For some unaccountable reason Ruth wanted to hit him, and somewhere deep inside her she was aware of a hurt, the nature of which she had not known before—a desire for a family of her own.
‘You’re welcome to come and look around any time you like,’ she told him distantly. ‘The door is always open.’
‘Always?’ he queried mockingly. ‘That must be rather draughty at times.’
‘I mean that I don’t lock the doors,’ she told him with quiet fury.
‘Really? Then you should. An attractive young girl like you alone in the house with the doors unlocked? That’s asking for trouble. But then, you do seem to ask for trouble, don’t you?’
Ruth gave a gasp of astonishment at this further example of the man’s blatant rudeness. But it was Gareth who came to her rescue.
‘She’s not the only one who’s asking for trouble,’ he said in a threatening tone of voice. ‘I’d ask you to watch what you’re saying, or you’ll have me to reckon with.’
‘Really?’ came the mocking voice. ‘And what will you do? Challenge me to a duel for the lady’s sake?’
‘Come outside and I’ll show you what,’ Gareth answered belligerently.
At this, the D.O. intervened. ‘Come now, Gareth, that’s no way to talk. I’m sure Ross didn’t mean anything. Let’s all have another drink.’
But Ruth felt she’d had enough of Ross Hamilton for one day. She rose to her feet.
‘I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me, I really think I must be going. I’ve had a busy day and I’m feeling tired.’ There was a general movement from the men as they rose politely. Jill laughed.
‘Good gracious, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say you’re tired.’
‘Well, I am now,’ Ruth retorted.
Gareth offered to see her home, and she protested that there was no need, but he said goodnight to the company and left the table. Ruth saw a faint smile of sardonic amusement on Ross Hamilton’s face which once again infuriated her.
Outside, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness for that! I couldn’t have stayed another minute in the company of that odious man.’
‘Neither could I,’ murmured Gareth.
‘But you’ve got to work under him. I only hope he doesn’t take it out on you. If he does I shall feel guilty.’
Gareth laughed. ‘There’s no need. I’ll guarantee I know as much about Forestry as he does, and if he tries to intimidate me, he’ll find he’s bitten off more than he can chew.’ He put his arm around her waist as he walked her to his car. ‘One thing’s for sure—you won’t be one of his fan club members, and for that, many thanks.’
She smiled absently. ‘I wonder if he meant what he said—about getting married?’ she mused.
Gareth opened the car door for her. ‘Very likely. Maybe it’s Linda. As I said before, perhaps that’s why he came here. On the other hand he might have just said it to warn the girls off, although if he’s the Don Juan he’s reputed to be—’
‘Oh, my goodness, what a picture! The girls all swooning over him to such an extent he has to protect himself. Well, he had no need to warn me off—and I should think he well knew it.’
‘Jill will no doubt spread it around. Mind you, he didn’t exactly say he was engaged to be married, only that he was thinking about it.’
He put the car in gear and drove off in the direction of Ruth’s home.
‘Well, let’s forget him for a while, shall we?’ she pleaded. ‘He isn’t that important.’
Gareth’s left hand let go the steering wheel to touch hers. ‘You’re darned right he isn’t.’
As it was still quite early, coupled with the fact that, had it not been for her Gareth would still be in the company at the Club, Ruth asked him in for a coffee. Ross Hamilton’s name was not mentioned again, but Ruth found she could not get him out of her mind.
They re-kindled the log fire in the living room and sat on the hearthrug and drank their coffee.
‘What are you doing over the week-end?’ Gareth asked.
‘Working. I must—I’ve lost such a lot of time lately, and I’ve got to start thinking of buying a house—or find a flat big enough to house me as well as all my paraphernalia. I think my best bet is an old house or cottage with a garage or outhouse I can convert into a studio.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Oh, what a business! I’m not looking forward to it at all—the disruption and everything.’
Gareth drained his cup and set it down by the side of her empty one, then he stretched himself out fully on the rug and looked up at her.
‘Ruthie, why don’t you marry me—let me take care of everything?’
She smiled and shook her head slowly. ‘Don’t keep on asking me, Gareth. I hate having to keep saying no to you.’
‘Then why not say yes? Don’t you want to get married?’
She frowned. ‘I—I don’t know. I—’ She sighed again. ‘I don’t really know what I want at the moment.’
‘I do.’
Suddenly Gareth pulled her down towards him and took her in his arms.
‘No, Gareth—please—’ she protested, not sure quite what his intentions were.
He brought his lips down on hers. ‘This is what you need—love. You need loving. Let me, Ruth, let me.’
He kissed her again, more ardently, but she struggled against him and sat up, her heart pounding.
‘Gareth, you mustn’t do that, otherwise I won’t be able to have you here. Please go now, anyway. I want an early night. Go back to the Club, they’ll still all be there. I—I’m sorry I brought you out.’
He grinned and gave her a long look. ‘I think I had better go—but not back to the Club.’ He stood up and gave her his hand to pull her to her feet. ‘Am I forgiven?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘And you’ll be at the Club tomorrow night as usual?’
There was usually dancing and one or two other items of entertainment.
‘I might,’ Ruth told him. ‘But I’ll make my own way there.’
He kissed her gently on the cheek. ‘I’ll let myself out See you tomorrow—I hope.’
When he had gone she sat down again on the hearthrug and tried to stem the tide of varying emotions which coursed madly through her veins. Gareth was right—she did want love. She wanted very much to be loved. But not Gareth, though she was filled with confusion at the way she had found herself almost responding to him. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling so unsettled, so emotionally disturbed? Granted that she had a somewhat erratic temperament, she had never felt like this in her life before.
Into her mind, unbidden, came a picture of the tall, insolent figure of Ross Hamilton leaning against a tree. It was his fault. He had made her angry, he had somehow stirred up inside her all kinds of feelings and emotions. Did he speak to all women in the same way that he had spoken to her?
Rather than put another log on the fire she made her way to bed, but try as she might she could not put thoughts of Ross Hamilton out of her mind altogether and as she felt herself drifting off to sleep, there was his face with that mocking half-smile only two inches from hers.
CHAPTER TWO
Throughout all next day Ruth cogitated as to whether to go to the Foresters’ Club that evening. Most of the Forestry crowd went regularly, and until now Ruth had been no exception. She tried to analyse her uncertainty, and would not accept the half-framed thought that it was because Ross Hamilton might also be there. She was feeling restless because she knew she had to find somewhere else to live, that was it. And, of course, she was missing her father. She had not realised how ghastly it could be to live alone, not having anyone to talk to at intervals, no sounding board.
In the end, she decided she would go to the Club. Ross Hamilton probably wouldn’t be there, anyway, and even if he were, it didn’t matter to her. She would simply ignore him.
Although the Club dances were informal, the women, generally speaking, liked to dress up a little. Ruth thought she would, f
or a change. It seemed a long time since she had worn anything except her sweater and jeans. She washed her hair, and after some experimenting decided to do it up. She set it in large rollers and sat under her home dryer and manicured her nails. She then had a leisurely bath and proceeded to pile up her hair and put on her make-up before slipping into a dress she had designed and made herself. The colour was a clear, bright scarlet which suited her dark colouring well, and hung in soft, three-tier folds terminating in points at the front and back. She had painstakingly edged the whole material with a contrasting white narrow border and had ruched the bodice, simply adding shoulder straps which she had tied into small bows at the top, although she had cunningly stitched them underneath as a guard against any joker who might try unfastening them. At her throat she wore a white necklace, adding for good measure a red and white flower made out of the same materials as the dress.
Donning a pair of white sandals, she surveyed herself in the long mirror.
‘Not bad at all,’ she murmured to herself. ‘Though I say it as shouldn’t. If Mr. High-and-mighty Hamilton saw me now he would hardly recognise me!’
She smiled experimentally, showing white even teeth between her creamy coral lips.
‘Mm. Well, that’s something Ross Hamilton is hardly likely to see,’ she decided, replacing the smile with a scowl. ‘But he probably won’t be there, anyway, so what am I talking about?’
She slipped on a white velvet jacket and drove herself to the Club. Already she could see Gareth’s car in the car park, and he was the first person to greet her as she entered the door. His eyes widened as he took in her appearance.
‘Wow! You’re a knock-out, Ruth. I’m going to have my work cut out to keep the wolves at bay tonight.’
She laughed. ‘What wolves? Apart from yourself, that is?’
He took her hand. ‘Come and dance. It’s a nice smoochy waltz, and I feel like being smoochy with you.’
‘Well, I don’t feel like being smoochy with anyone,’ she told him, taking the sting out of her words with a smile. ‘So don’t get too amorous.’
The room was fairly full. As they danced to the romantic tune taken from an old, popular musical, Ruth could see many familiar faces, but nowhere could she see the new Head Forester.
‘I wonder if Hamilton will show up?’ Gareth said, as though reading her thoughts.
Ruth shrugged her bare shoulders. ‘I don’t care either one way or the other.’
Gareth grunted. ‘Well, I think there are quite a few here who do. You should have heard Jill and her friend Lucy at lunchtime.’
Ruth sighed. ‘Gareth, can’t we talk about something else? Or just dance?’
‘Sure. I forgot he’s like a red rag to a bull to you. Although,’ he added, with a grin, ‘the way you’re dressed tonight it could well be the other way around.’
Ruth did not reply to this. Really, Gareth was not very original at times.
It was about an hour later that Linda made another of her dramatic entrances, this time closely followed by Ross Hamilton. There was no smile on the man’s granite face—Ruth wondered if he knew how to smile properly, as when he did smile it went no further than a suggestive, faint curve at one side of his mouth. His gaze ranged the room, looking, no doubt for an empty table.
Linda posed in the doorway, looking—as one of the men at Ruth’s table said—terrific, in a long flowing dress of emerald green, its open neck, loop-buttoned to a high waistline with a wide pointed collar and long sleeves. Modest, but at the same time alluring. Ruth suddenly became conscious of her own bare arms and shoulders and the youthful cut of her dress. For the first time in her life she felt at a disadvantage. Linda obviously knew how to dress for her man. She looked the epitome of sophistication as well as managing to combine modesty with allurement. She had even done her hair differently, her blonde tresses falling to her shoulders in soft curls and waves. Ruth glanced down at her , own dress and felt like a teenager only trying to look sophisticated by doing up her hair.
‘Ought we make room for them here?’ murmured Hugh.
‘Oh, no—’ Ruth said automatically.
‘Him, yes, but her—no!’ added Jill.
Hugh flashed a mocking smile from one to the other. ‘You women—jealous as hell when there’s another attractive woman around.’
‘And you men—’ retaliated his wife, ‘your eyes popping out of your head at the sight of a well-dressed woman.’
Gareth put his arm about Ruth’s bare shoulders. ‘Well, personally, my eyes aren’t popping out of my head,’ he said. ‘I’ve got all I want here. Ruth dresses to please herself. Linda is obviously trying to look all modest and feminine, but you’re not going to tell me that that’s all Hamilton wants—modesty and femininity.’
‘Well, it’s not a bad start,’ Hugh said with a wink, evidently teasing his wife quite a bit.
At that moment the music started again. Gareth gave Ruth a hug. ‘Come on, sweetheart, let’s dance. And save our seats—’ he added to Hugh as Ruth rose to her feet.
‘I suppose we’ll have to get used to it,’ Gareth murmured as he led her on to an as yet almost empty floor.
‘To what?’ she asked, though she had an idea of what he meant.
‘To having Hamilton around.’
‘At work as well as play,’ Ruth amended. Then she asked: ‘Does it bother you that he’s friendly with Linda?’
He shrugged. ‘Lord, no. I’ve told you, I’ve been out with her a few times, but there was never anything serious.’ He gave a rather wicked grin. ‘All the same, don’t be surprised—or worried—if I date her again. I don’t see why Hamilton should come here and have things all his own way.’
‘You mean you’d date her to spite him?’
He shrugged. ‘Well, something like that. Not if you’re free, of course,’ he added swiftly.
Ruth caught a glimpse of bright green as Linda and Ross Hamilton moved down the room, evidently having seen some empty seats. Then, as the dancing area became more crowded, the same flash of colour could be seen among those dancing. Once, the pair passed close to Gareth and Ruth, and Ross glanced from one to the other without a sign of recognition in his lazy eyes. Linda did not even appear to have seen them.
‘It’s an act she puts on,’ Gareth said when Ruth remarked upon it.
‘And do you think he was putting on an act, too?’ Ruth demanded angrily.
Gareth grinned. ‘Maybe he took his cue from you. I didn’t see you smiling—and I only caught a glimpse of them. Anyway, what does it matter?’
‘Not in the slightest, except that the manners of both of them are deplorable.’
She tried to get a sight of him to see how he danced, but it wasn’t possible, then the tempo changed to beat, and everybody began their individual steps and gyrations.
When the music stopped Ruth and Gareth were at the farthest end of the room from their table, and as they approached they saw that Ross Hamilton and Linda were sitting there. Judging by the two extra chairs, Jill and Hugh had made room for the pair. Ruth halted involuntarily.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Gareth. ‘Do you want to go and find somewhere else to sit?’
Ruth thought for a moment, then her chin lifted. ‘No,’ she answered. ‘Why should we? We’re surely more than a match for those two, and besides, it might upset Jill and Hugh.’
‘You’re right.’
They continued on their way. When they reached the table Hugh and Ross Hamilton rose politely. Linda smiled in a superior fashion, but Ross Hamilton’s lazy blue eyes ranged up and down Ruth’s figure in such a way, she wondered wildly whether the dress was transparent She sat down swiftly, only to catch his glance flitting from one bare shoulder to the other.
To her utter annoyance Ruth felt her face grow warm. From her evening bag she brought out a white lace fan someone had bought her as a present from Spain and began to fan her hot face.
‘Whew! It’s hot in here tonight,’ she remarked to cover up the real reaso
n for her colour.
Ross’s gaze shifted to Gareth. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your young friend?’ he asked smoothly.
Ruth’s eyes blazed. This was an obvious comment on the fact that she was dressed in something other than her sweater and jeans. She snapped her fan shut and wanted to bring it down hard on his brown hands, cupped one inside the other as he leaned his elbows on the table.
Gareth was looking from Ruth to Ross Hamilton, a puzzled frown on his face, as though he could not be quite sure whether the other man genuinely did not recognise her.
‘You must be joking,’ he said, ‘though, of course, you don’t know her as well as we do. Look a little closer. The face is the same. It’s only the hair-do that’s different.’
Thankfully, Ruth noticed he didn’t mention her clothes. Ross Hamilton peered more closely at her from across the table, his bright blue eyes flicking over her features. Ruth compressed her lips and her eyes blazed. Then his eyes narrowed for a second, before he made a great show of suddenly recognising her.
‘Good gracious me, if it isn’t the angry young lady I met in the inclosure! And last night, of course,’ he added. ‘But what a transformation! No wonder I didn’t recognise her. Do you know who you remind me of?’ he asked Ruth.
She took a deep, angry breath. ‘No, and I’m not interested.’
But he went on as if she had never spoken: ‘A Spanish dancer I met in Barcelona. The same colouring, the dress, the fan—and the wonderful colour in your cheeks. It suits you.’
She knew he was goading her, and when the music started again, she glanced at Gareth. But Ross Hamilton was too quick for him.
‘May I have the pleasure of this dance, Miss Medway? I’m sure your boy-friend won’t mind just this once.’
‘Well, I—no, of course not. But it’s up to Ruth, not me,’ Gareth answered.
A swift refusal came to Ruth’s lips, but she caught a mute signal from Gareth that it might be policy to agree. Jill and Hugh rose to dance, and she heard Gareth say to Linda: ‘May I?’ Rather than sit alone with the new Forester at the table, or make an obvious excuse to go to the ladies’ powder room, Ruth didn’t feel she had much alternative other than to dance with him. In any case, he seemed to have taken her lack of outright refusal as an acceptance. He had risen, taken her hand and was pulling her gently to her feet.
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