Carver's Bride

by Nicola West

  Helplessly, Linzi sought Jason's eyes. What was she to say? Should she descend to Ceri's level, enter into a slanging match, hurl at her the accusations which would make it quite clear just how Ceri had been planning her downfall? Something in Linzi's heart shrank from doing that— it would sully the love that she now believed existed between herself and Jason. She could not bring herself to fight over him with Ceri, like two dogs over a bone, could not bring into this room, still filled with the emanations of their love, the sordid machinations that had so nearly driven them apart for ever.

  She turned her head aside. Surely Jason wouldn't allow this to go on—wouldn't allow Ceri to' harangue her in this way. Not so soon after he had held her in his arms and loved her?

  Jason,' she appealed, but the expression on his face baffled her.

  'No, let Ceri go on. I'm finding this interesting.'

  Ceri whipped round, her face triumphant. 'Thank you, Jason!' She turned back to Linzi. 'You see! He may not be able to resist you physically, but that's as far as it goes! Oh yes, I know—I saw you! You really ought to draw the curtains if you don't want everyone to know!' Linzi's eyes flew to the window, still unsheltered against the night, and her face flamed. 'Or perhaps you did want to be seen?' Ceri continued spitefully. 'Perhaps it's an added bonus— or perhaps you had some ideas of forcing Jason's hand? A shotgun wedding, perhaps, with witnesses. What a pity that your only witness should be me—and I'll never tell!' The pretty face was ugly now, and Linzi turned away, sickened. 'Yes, he's attracted to you all right—but then what man wouldn't be? That doesn't mean a thing! As I told you before, I'm the one he always comes back to— and that's the way it's going to stay.' She crossed the room and slipped her arm through Jason's, hugging it possessively. 'Isn't it, darling?'

  Rigid now, Linzi watched as Jason looked down at the dark-haired girl, so tiny beside his bulk. He made no move to remove her; no shift in his stance took him any further from her side. But his face was expressionless as he let his eyes move slowly over the upturned face. She was willing him to kiss her, Linzi divined suddenly, and knew she was right as Ceri lifted herself on her toes, moving sensuously against him as she did so.

  'Is it?' Jason said at last, reflectively. 'Well, you seem to know a lot more about this than I do, Ceri. Why don't you tell me more?'

  Ceri's face changed. She pouted and shrugged her shoulders, pale against the dark red of her low-cut dress.

  'Why, Jason, you're teasing me,' she exclaimed reproachfully. 'All right, so I spoilt your little bit of fun just now. But you're not going to hold that against me, are you?' She wriggled closer. 'After all, we can have plenty of fun ourselves, once she's gone.'

  'Mm, I suppose we could,' he agreed thoughtfully. 'But I'm still waiting for you to tell me just why she should go. She is supposed to be working for me, after all!'

  Linzi gasped. Just what was he playing at? Had he been stringing her along—taking what she'd so recklessly offered, an opportunist after all, intending that nothing should come of it? Was he still intent on revenge for what had happened five years ago? Tears stung her eyes as she watched him standing close to Ceri. The pretty, spoilt little Welsh girl was going to win after all—and now it seemed that there had never been any real doubt about it.

  But Ceri, it seemed, was equally put out by Jason's ambiguous answer. She turned away, tossing her head a little, and flashed a glance of pure malice at Linzi. The firelight glinted on her dark curls and the ruby colour of her skirt glowed as she flounced away from Jason and flung herself into his armchair, slanting a provocative look up at him under her lashes.

  'You're just being naughty now,' she grumbled. 'Teasing me. . . . Jason, why don't you just tell her to go?' she coaxed. 'We were so happy before she came along. We don't need anyone else, Jason. Just think how it used to be . . . you and me, alone here, the world shut out. . .. Don't you remember how it used to be?'

  'Yes, I remember.' Jason paced to the window and drew the curtains across, closing out the storm which still lashed against the glass. 'But that's in the past now, Ceri. Like a lot of other things.' And as he turned and his eyes met Linzi's across the darkened room, her heart leapt.

  Ceri was out of her chair in a flash, and this time all her barriers were down. Her breast heaved as she faced Jason, and Linzi guessed that this was the first time he had ever seen the real Ceri, malevolent and spiteful. Half frightened, she crouched back on the sofa.

  'What do you mean?' Ceri breathed. 'In the past—me? Us? Jason, you don't know what you're saying! It's not in the past!'

  'I'm afraid it is,' Jason answered calmly. 'I told you the other day—I've been telling you for weeks, months. What we had was fun, Ceri, I'm not denying it ‑' His eyes sought Linzi's again, almost in supplication. 'But that was all it was. You understood that as well as I did.'

  'No! Never! I never intended ‑' Ceri broke off, her face flaming.

  'You never meant it to stay on that level. You decided you wanted to marry me—because you needed my money to keep Penrhys Court.' Ceri gasped, but Jason went on inexorably. 'That was the real reason, wasn't it? The reason you did your best to prevent me inviting Linzi here. The reason you told her lies to get rid of her.'

  'Lies?'

  'Yes, lies.' Jason crossed the room now and laid his hand on Linzi's shoulder. 'Oh, it isn't hard to guess where she got those ideas about me and little Sian. It still hurts that she believed them ‑' His fingers tightened momentarily and Linzi bowed her head. 'But how can I blame her? It's you who are to blame. You and that brother of yours.'

  Ceri stared at them. Her fury seemed to twist her whole body, making it look ugly and deformed. Her eyes narrowed almost to slits, and her hands turned into claws as she lifted them. To Linzi's fascinated gaze she seemed almost to turn into a witch as she hissed at them'.

  'So you're taking her! She's won after all—or thinks she has. But do you know everything about her, Jason Carver? Do you know, for instance, what she was doing when she was in New York? The kind of pictures she was posing for there?' She turned a look of contemptuous anger on Linzi. 'Why not ask her? Or—better still—why not go and look in that rucksack you told me she'd left behind? I dare you, Jason Carver—if you want to know just what sort of a girl Linzi Berwick is, go and look in her rucksack/'

  The silence was electric. Linzi stared at Ceri, and then, trembling in every inch of her body, turned her head slowly and looked up at Jason. His eyes were fixed on her, baffled and questioning. He glanced from her to Ceri and saw the look of triumph in the dark eyes. And as he turned back to her Linzi, with a gesture of despair, dropped her head into her hands.

  'Linzi?' he said slowly, his voice rough and toneless. 'Linzi? What does she mean?'

  But Linzi couldn't answer. There was no way she could explain, no way she could convince him. She could only beg, silently, that he wouldn't take up Ceri's challenge— that he wouldn't go to look.

  But she might have known that that was hopeless. And when Jason left her side and strode heavily out of the room, she raised her face from her hands and looked bleakly at the older girl. She knew that at last the battle was over. It was impossible for her to stay any longer. She couldn't—she just couldn't—stay in the room while Jason pieced together those torn photographs, like some obscene jigsaw. She couldn't face the disappointment in his eyes— or the triumph in Ceri's.

  'How did you know they were there?' she whispered.

  Ceri's face was smug. 'Selwyn told me, of course. I was taking a chance that you hadn't thrown them out—but it was a chance worth taking. And it would have been easy enough to get replacements!' She paused, then said softly: 'You'd better go now. Before he comes back. It's the only way.'

  'I don't know what you think you'll gain by this,' Linzi said shakily. 'Jason will never marry you now.'

  'That remains to be seen. At least he'll never marry you.' Ceri lifted her pretty shoulders delicately. 'And he'll need some comfort, won't he?'

  'You disgust me!'


  'Do you know,' Ceri replied insolently, 'that doesn't worry me at all. Not one tiny bit.' She crossed to the door.' He'll be back soon. And I wouldn't like to be you when he comes.'

  Defeated, Linzi walked to the door. She passed Ceri without a word; crossed the hall, praying that Hugh wouldn't appear; and let herself out through the front door into the wild darkness beyond. Half-blinded by tears, holding up her arms against the teeming rain, she blundered unseeingly across the yard to her car.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The rain was now coming down almost too hard for the wipers to be effective. Uncaring, Linzi drove out of the yard and turned into the lane. She didn't know where she was going, hadn't even considered it. She-wanted only to get away, away from Ceri's sneering triumph, away from the disillusionment in Jason's eyes when he saw the photographs. She should never have come at all, she told herself unhappily as she peered through the streaming windscreen. It had all been one terrible mistake, from start to finish. And the moments of rapture that she had experienced in Jason's arms made her loss all the more painful.

  How could she have forgotten about the photographs? They were the very reason why she'd left Bron Melyn in the first place, yet since Richard had come that morning and told her about Sian she hadn't given them a thought. She might have known that the threat was still there; that as soon as Ceri and Selwyn discovered she was back the blackmail would be re-applied. But then she'd never really expected things to turn out as they had, she reminded herself. She'd thought that Jason would have remained bitter and angry, accepting her apology while not allowing it to make the slightest difference. As, indeed, he had done to begin with.

  He had changed only when she had made her own positive approach to his physical desire for her. Knowing that he wanted her, she had made a deliberate assault on his senses, and it had worked as she'd known it must. And now even that-would go against her. Jason would see the photographs, remember her apparently expert arousal of him—and draw the obvious conclusions. He would never again believe that she was still inexperienced, and all trust between them would be irrevocably destroyed.

  Hopelessly, Linzi drove around the lanes, taking turnings without any real idea of where she was heading. In a very short time she realised that she was lost—but the knowledge ran off her mind as the rain was running off the car. What did it matter where she went? What did anything matter any more?

  The dark hedges loomed above her as she twisted and turned through the winding lanes. What was Jason doing now? she wondered. Burning the evidence of her depravation, presumably; aided by Ceri, now soft and compliant again, ready to give the comfort she'd known he would need. And Ceri would accomplish that only too well, Linzi reflected bitterly. She was a born comforter, and with Linzi out of the way—for good this time—she would be making absolutely certain of her position in Jason's bruised affections.

  Well, none of it would affect her any more. Somehow, it must be forgotten, put behind her. But that wasn't going to be so easy. It hadn't been easy five years ago, when she'd determinedly pushed away her schoolgirl crush and made a new life for herself. Then, she hadn't had any real idea of what she was giving up. Now she was only too well aware, and the knowledge was like a knife twisting in her heart.

  Absorbed in her painful thoughts, Linzi only slowly became aware of the rough going of the car. Startled, she glanced out of the side window and realised that the hedges had vanished, and the relatively smooth surface of the tarmac lane had given way to uneven metalling. At some point, it dawned on her, she had come over the cattle grid and was now driving on the hill itself.

  But which hill? She had no idea where she had been heading when she took her last turn; no idea which of the many lanes she had been in, or which track she was on now. Fighting a sudden panic, she felt the wheels of the Mini give a violent jolt, slip sideways and, as she clung to the steering-wheel, lurch into a deep pothole. The engine raced as the front wheels scrabbled at loose stones, but the car didn't move. It was firmly and irrevocably stuck.

  Breathing hard, Linzi switched off the engine. The headlights still beamed ahead, cutting through what was now an eerie mist, but even as she watched the mist thickened and became dense fog which swirled around the car, probing the windows with long ghostly fingers and forming phantom shapes in front of her horrified eyes.

  Reluctantly, she switched off the headlights, realising that it wouldn't help to run down the battery. The darkness was now impenetrable, with no glimmer of light anywhere, and Linzi fought down the rising hysteria of fear. There was nothing to be afraid of, she told herself unconvincingly. These were the mountains she loved, the hills that had welcomed her with such a glorious display of purple and gold. But their friendliness had vanished now; they were cold and hostile.

  Well, she couldn't stay here all night. Already she was shivering, and although her luggage was still in the car she didn't fancy fumbling about to find warmer clothes. She couldn't be too far from the lane, anyway. All she had to do was walk back down the track and, sooner or later, she would come to a house.

  Linzi reached forward to find the torch she always carried on the glove shelf. It was working, though not very bright, but ought to be enough to last until she reached civilisation. With a shivering glance at the swirling fog, she scrambled out of the car and locked it, wondering rather ruefully why she was bothering, since surely no one would be coming up here at this time and in these conditions. Then, turning her back on it, she set off along the track.

  The track was rough, with boulders sticking up in it and loose rocks and stones among the running water and puddles that the heavy rain had caused. Linzi was thankful for her flat driving-shoes, but even so the going was difficult and she realised just how useful her boots would have been. Slipping and sliding, she made her way slowly along, picking out a way with the help of the torch. Now and then a startled sheep got up from the short turf and bounded away, startling Linzi even more. She slithered along, turning her ankle over more than once, and almost falling several times. She began to wonder if she had been wise to leave the car.

  It seemed a very long way to the cattle grid. She supposed she must have crossed it several minutes before realising what had happened. But it was surprising that, even absorbed as she was, she hadn't noticed the extreme roughness of the track before reaching such a high point. It was even more surprising that the Mini had got so far. If she had seen the track in daylight she would never have dreamed of driving the little car along it.

  She stumbled on, half crying. The rain and fog had soaked her through,, her feet were sodden, and her hair hung lankly round her face, sending cold drips down her neck. The wind seemed to blow right through her, chilling her to the bone. And still she hadn't reached the cattle grid!

  It was some time before Linzi admitted the truth at last. At some point she must have diverged from her track. Intent on picking out a way, she hadn't noticed any turnings; yet there must have been one—maybe more, she thought wretchedly—and she must have gone astray. Goodness knew where she was wandering now, but it wasn't going to lead her off the hill. The only thing to do was turn and get back to the car and start again.

  It was over half an hour before she could bring herself to acknowledge the fact that she couldn't find the car.

  Somehow she'd got herself hopelessly, entirely lost. If only she could find the car, she thought desperately, she could get back into it, stay there until morning and then find her way off the hill and get help. But unless she had an enormous stroke of good luck, it didn't seem likely that she was going to see her little Mini again. She was doomed to wander here—for ever, it seemed.

  Linzi almost gave way to panic then. Still frightened by the loneliness, the eeriness of the fog and the sheer unfriendliness of the wild, empty mountains that surrounded her, she saw herself wandering here alone until, exhausted, she collapsed in the mud. She pictured herself falling, spraining an ankle or, worse still, breaking a leg and lying there helpless, unable to move, growing colder and cold
er. Who would find her? Who would even come to look for her? Jason would assume she had gone back to London. And even if he tried to telephone her, he would believe that once again she was simply not answering.

  Linzi had completely lost hope now of ever finding her way. Recklessly, she plunged about, losing the track which had by then petered out into a narrow sheep-track through the heather. She found herself sliding down a steep slope, scrambling up again. She had no idea where she might be heading, knew only that she must keep moving. She even wondered why; but the instinct for survival kept her staggering on her feet.

  The torchlight was growing dim now. Once or twice it flickered and she gave a sob of fear. She dared not let it run down altogether, and reluctantly she switched it off. Instantly, the darkness and fog closed in upon her, seeming almost to press physically down on her head, and she stood rooted to the spot, afraid to move.

  After a few minutes her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and she started forward again. She could just make out the dim shapes of rocks and sheep, though she couldn't tell which they were until they either got up and moved away, proving that they were sheep, or remained solidly where they were. She wondered if it might be possible to find a sheep that wouldn't move away, but would let her crouch against it. It didn't seem likely.

  Very cautiously now, Linzi felt her way forward, all the time afraid that she would tumble into some hollow, even over a small cliff. The heather caught at her ankles and scratched them below the cord trousers, which were by now soaked and heavy as they flapped around her legs. More than once, she blundered into a gorse bush and had to extricate herself, painfully aware that some of the thorns remained in her hands.

  She longed for Jason. With him, even the wild mountains and the sinister fog would be friends. He would know just which way to go, just where to find safety. Without him, she was lost and bewildered, and with a flash of insight she realised that this would apply all through her life; without Jason she would always blunder along, knowing neither where she was going nor how to get there.