A Sudden Engagement by Penny Jordan

by A Sudden Engagement (lit)

  Kirsty's heart started to thump uncomfortably. Why did Simon want to see her? Hadn't her performance been good enough after all, or worse still had Drew suggested to him that in view of the fact that he was being reunited with Beverley it would be an embarrassment to them both if Kirsty remained with the company?

  She managed to shake her head in negation, although it was impossible for her to speak.

  'So I'm going to be the first one to congratulate you on a first-rate performance, am I?' Drew asked her in a metallically flat voice that seemed to hold neither approval nor praise.

  'I was . . .' Just behaving naturally, were the words trembling on the tip of her tongue, but she managed to silence them, and Drew filled the gap by supplying sardonically,

  'Just doing your job? Oh, you don't need to tell me that. I take back everything I said about your acting ability,' he added with a savagery that took her off guard. 'You've all the makings of another Rachel. For a moment there on stage you almost had me convinced. A word of warning, though.

  Actors are a hot-headed race. Carry on as convincingly as you were tonight and you'll have difficulty dislodging them from your life after the play is over.'

  Kirsty didn't reply. She could not. A huge lump had formed in her chest. Her body felt heavy and tired; her head ached, and she had an overwhelming desire to put her head on Drew's shoulder and burst into tears.

  'Nearly there. Looking forward to the coming adulation, are you?'

  What would he do if she told him the truth? That she no longer cared about her career; that much as she enjoyed acting she lacked the driving intensity that would take her to the top and that right now all she wanted from life was to be Drew's wife and to bear his children. Of course the theatre would always draw her, she would never lose that, but she acknowledged that now she would never feel as intense about it as she had done.

  Obviously not expecting a response to his question, Drew turned into the gates of the hotel and brought the Porsche to a halt outside the main door. A uniformed commissionaire stepped forward to open the door for her, taking the tip Drew proffered as he drove the car away to park it. An attractive receptionist pointed out the way to the suite where the party was being held. It was completely self-contamed, she explained, adding with an enthusiasm which at any other time Kirsty would have found thrilling,

  'My sister saw the performance tonight. She just rang to tell me that it was absolutely super and that I must get tickets. I've never been a great one for Shakespeare, but accorded to her this was really something!'

  Kirsty blinked a little as she preceded Drew into the crowded room. There were far more people in it than she had anticipated; Drew had obviously made an understatement when he mentioned that Simon invited a few outsiders.

  Cherry come rushing up to them and hugged her enthusiastically, and soon other members of the cast were thronging round them, congratulating them and telling Kirsty that she had been superb.

  'I don't know about bringing tears to the eyes of the audience,' Meg sniffed at one point. 'I was pretty close to them myself when you rejected her, Drew. It was all so emotional!'

  'Perhaps it wasn't simply acting,' Rachel remarked maliciously, watching Kirsty's face.

  'Kirsty darling, you were so good!'

  Kirsty dragged her eyes from Rachel's face to stare in bemused disbelief at her aunt and her husband.

  'Chalsea-Slade-but . . .' Her eyes widened even further when she saw her parents behind them.

  Ann Stannard hugged her emotionally. 'Darling, I couldn't believe that was my little girl up there! I was so proud of you.'

  'Me too,' her father agreed gruffly.

  'But you never said you were coming. You didn't even acknowledge the tickets I sent you.'

  'You'll have to blame Drew for that,' Chalsea told her, taking her sister's place to hug Kirsty warmly. 'He rang us and told us he wanted to surprise you. Although it seems that you have a surprise for us,' she added meaningfully.

  'Yes, you naughty girly,' Ann Stannard chided. 'But Drew has explained to us that you didn't want anyone to know about your engagement until after the play opened, and that it was only because Beverley Travers guessed that you made it official.'

  Drew had told her family they were engaged! Kirsty turned her head and encountered his grimly unsmiling face.

  'Now that we've all said our hellos, why don't we give them a few minutes on their own?' Slade suggested. He was looking at Drew and an unspoken message seemed to pass between them. 'We can all get together later on at the hotel for a celebration worthy of the event.'

  A little to Kirsty's surprise no one made any demur at Slade's suggestion. Even her mother seemed less inclined to fuss than usual, and Kirsty could tell that she approved of Drew, but then what mother wouldn't?

  'Come on, Kirsty,' Drew's fingers touched her arm, 'have you forgotten that we still have things to talk about?' he asked in a low voice.

  She hadn't, but why on earth had he complicated matters by telling her family that they were engaged?

  She didn't realise until he pushed her gently towards the door that he intended them to have their talk away from the hotel, but by that time they were already out of the foyer and on their way to the dark shadows of the parked Porsche.

  The road to Drew's farmhouse was familiar enough to her now for her to recognise it instantly, and as they traversed the short distance in silence, Kirsty had time to build up the anger that was all she had to sustain her through the coming ordeal. How dared Drew invite her family up here and then make a fool of her by Announcing their engagement-an engagement which he knew would soon be over?

  He assisted her from the car with his usual courtesy, but Kirsty could tell that he was unusually tense and distant with her. Perhaps he too was dreading the coming interview; dreading her making some sort of emotional scene. Well, he needn't be. She intended to behave with all the control at her disposal.

  Even so, it was nerve-racking having him head her to the comfortable sitting room, with its cosy lamps. She refused the drink he offered her, watching miserably as he poured himself one. His hand shook slightly and the knowledge that he too was on the edge nearly destroyed her poise completely.

  His glass was placed on the table before he had even taken a sip from it, his expression partially obscured as he turned towards the are.

  'Kirsty,' he began slowly, 'I want to . . .'

  'No, Drew,' she interrupted firmly, praying she wouldn't let herself down now. 'I want to tell you something.' She had tugged her ring off as she spoke and proffered it to him on the palm of her hand.

  'I do realise that now you've achieved your aim, there's no longer any need for me to go on wearing this, so l'd like you to take it back.'

  'Achieved my aim? What the hell are you talking about?' The violence of his words robbed her of breath. 'Look, Kirsty,' he said impatiently, 'you're not on stage now. I brought you here so that I could make one last desperate appeal to you . . .' He ran unsteady fingers through his hair and Kirsty had an uninterrupted view of the tension and anguish in his face. Pain exploded aside her that he should feel like that for Beverlay.

  'You don't have to appeal to me to set you free, drew she managed jerkily. 'I know you and Beverley were together in New York, I know . . .'

  'You know nothing,' Drew broke in ex- plosively, nothing at all.' His eyebrows snapped together suddenly. 'What do you mean you know we were in New York together? You know no such damned thing. She happened to be on the some plane as I was going out there, but apart from that 1 haven't seen her since she walked out of this house weeks age-and anyway, what's Beverley Travels got to do with us?'

  Kirsty gaped at him.

  'But, Drew, surely the whole purpose of our engagement-of my being hero-was to make Beverley jealous, so that you could get her back.

  You told me it was.'

  'I did?' All of a sudden his expression seemed to have changed, losing some of its anguished tension and instead becoming curiously watchful.
r />   'Then I'm afraid you're going to have to refresh my memory,' he told her quietly. 'When did I tell you?'

  'The night you brought me here after you'd announced our engagement. I told you I knew you had an ulterior motive, and you agreed.

  Surely you remember? I told you there was simply no way I was going to help you.'

  'I remember that bit all right,' Drew agreed in a very dry voice, 'but I . . . Tell me more about my motives in getting engaged to you, Kirsty,' he demanded thoughtfully. 'You guessed I had an ulterior motive, go on from there.'

  'If it had been anyone else I would have thought they were just trying to protect me because you knew . . . I . . .'

  'Because you were still a virgin and I knew it, whatever Beverley might care to imply, and I didn't want the rest of the cast believing you were my mistress, but of course I wouldn't be gentleman enough to do that-is that what you're saying?'

  Put like that it sounded almost insulting.

  'You were so angry with me in Winton,' Kirsty palliated. 'And with every right.' She bit her lip.

  'I had no right to try and do what I did. It was unforgivable-and childish. I was wrongly cast in the Howard play, and . . .'

  'Did it never occur to you that I might have another reason for forcing our engagement on you?'

  Kirsty stared up at him, puzzled.

  'Like what?'

  Wry self-mockery gleamed in his eyes, his smile slightly mocking. 'My dear Kirsty, you are one very dense young woman. Come over here.'

  Puzzled, she did as he bid, gasping as, when she got within arm's reach of him, he took hold of her shoulders, his hands sliding up into her hair as he drew her closer; close enough for her body to respond dismayingly to his proximity. Her lips parted automatically as his hovered over them, and then he was kissing her, gently at first, and more fiercely as his fingers tightened into her hair, tilting her head back, and her emotions ran out of control.

  It was several breathless seconds before he released her.

  'Doesn't that tell you anything?' he asked huskily.

  Her tongue touched dry lips nervously.

  'It tells me you find me desirable,' she managed at last. 'Even though I am a virgin.' There was bitterness in the final words and she found herself back in Drew's arms, her chin held firmly so that she was forced to meet his eyes.

  'Perhaps I ought to try a different tack,' he murmured dulcetly. 'When I kiss you, what do you feel? Merely desire?'

  Kirsty's face flamed. 'I . . .' She struggled to break free of his arms unsure of her ability to lie when he was looking right into her eyes. 'I . . .'

  'Will it help if I tell you that I love you and have done since you walked out of my bedroom and caused havoc in my life-something I once swore I'd never allow any woman to do-? It's quite true,' Drew promised softly, 'so true that unless you say something quickly I'll be forced to prove it with actions rather than words. Have you any idea what it's been like?' he groaned suddenly. 'Wanting you, loving you, and all the time terrified of losing you?'

  'Every idea,' Kirsty replied quietly. This time when his eyes searched hers she felt no need to hide her feelings.

  'When?' he asked softly, but she knew what he was asking.

  'Probably from the just time you touched me.

  I told myself it was merely your experience coupled with too much to drink, but deep down inside I know it wasn't, and then you got at my part as Hero and I hated you as I'd never hated anyone before. You see, I thought you were trying to trap me into making a fool of myself so that you could dismiss me from Much Ado and your life, with one doubly humiliating blow.’

  'When in reality I was trying to tie you to me with as many strings as I could, praying that in time I could make you love me. I already knew you wanted me,' he murmured, enjoying her blush. 'But as you were ten years younger than me and still a virgin I couldn't simply use sexual magnetism to trap you into a marriage you might later regret. But every time I thought I was making headway I came up against a brick wall.'

  'Because I thought you were using me to make Beverley Jealous!'

  'Didn't it occur to you ever that if I was I was using pretty drastic action?' he asked. 'And you still haven't told me you love mw,' he reminded her.

  'Don't you know?'

  'How should I? Because you responded to me physically he mocked gently. 'it was like wine to a man yearning for water. God, I wanted you, but I was terrified of losing my head; getting drunk on the wine of physical desire and frightening you away for ever. I want your love as well as your desire, Kirsty, and permanently-l'd never settle for anything less.'

  'You won't have to.'

  The shy words fell into a pool of silence which lasted so long that Kirsty thought after all she had misunderstood him and he didn't love her, until she looked up into his face and saw the raw hunger mingled with a relief that found an aching response inside her.

  'Dear God,' he exclaimed piously, 'I feel as though, having attempted to climb it for years, l've suddenly reached the peak of Everest, and I can see the whole world spread out below it.'

  'Was it worthwile?' Kirsty asked mischieviously.

  'I feel so good I can hardly believe It's true. Perhaps you might convince me?'

  Shyly at first and then with growing confidence, Kirsty slid her arms round him, lifting her face for his kiss. It was fiercely intense, burning away all the doubts and misunderstandings, and it left her breathless and weak with desire.

  'I want to make at least one thing clear.' Drew was releasing her reluctantly. 'There was never anything between Beverley and me of a romantic nature. She wanted to back one of my pays-that was the reason we were meeting in Winton. She wanted to keep it a secret, but I had second thoughts-I wasn't so desperate for a backer that I needed to sell myself in exchange,' he told her frankly. 'Oh, and by the way-that crit which started the whole thing off ?'

  'Yes?'

  'I'm afraid I have a confession to make.'

  Kirsty waited.

  'I didn't actually write it. Oh, l saw the play and made a few notes-you were no worse than the others and obviously very inexperienced; the person who wrote the crit from my notes got the names mixed up. The person intended to bear the full brunt of my criticism was the lead actress. I hear they dropped her from the play when it reached New York, but by the time I realised about the mistake it was too late to rectify it.

  That's why I asked Simon to give you a chance- although I must admit my reasons weren't entirely altruistic. I knew you'd make an excellent Hero, but I also wanted to keep you where I could see you. When Beverley announced that we'd been sleeping together, I made the most of it. I only wish she'd been right,' he added throatily. 'These last reeks have been hellish frustrating, especially when every time I closed my eyes all I could see was you.'

  'They haven't exactly been blissful for me either,' Kirsty told him shakily. 'I loved you so much . . .'

  'Show me.'

  It was half an hour later before Drew reluctantly released her. Her small moan of protest was smothered by his mouth, before he pushed her away gently.

  'Having waited this long, I think I can wait until you become Mrs Chalmers. Don't look like that-it won't be very long, I promise you, and now we'd better get back to that damned party before your father comes after me with his shotgun!'

  It was early in the morning before the party finally broke up. Kirsty would far rather have spent the time alone with Drew but she acknowledged the wisdom of returning to join the others. He had been surprised and then delighted when she told him that once they were married she would probably give up the stage? apart from the odd temporary role, perhaps, filling in when vacancies came along.

  'Not entirely, I hope,' he had counselled her. 'I want a partner, Kirsty, and I want you to be happy.'

  'I'll never have the dedication to get to the top,' Kirsty told him honestly, 'and I no longer want to.'

  'Kirsty, I've got a bone to pick with you,' Chelsea interrupted, wandering over to join them, he
r arm linked with her husband's. 'You told me you weren't going to fall in love until you were at least twenty-six,' she reminded her niece, 'and now I won't have enough time.'

  'What for?'

  'Why to produce a little flower girl, of course,' she grinned. 'Still, there is John Charles . . .'

  'Not unless he accompanies her down the aisle in his pram,' Drew gut in firmly. 'I'm not waiting long-and certainly not long enough for him to learn to walk. I couldn't he added huskily, with a look for Kirsty that melted her bones to fluid.

  'Something tells me we're de trop,' Slade murmured sotto voce, 'and besides . . .'

  'Besides what?' his wife enquired as he led her discreetly away.

  'I've just realised how long it is since I've been alone with your Mrs Ashford,' he murmured wickedly. 'Drew and Kirsty don't have the monopoly on romance, you know.'

  'I don't think they'd agree with you, somehow.'

  They both looked across the room to where Kirsty's head rested on Drew's shoulder.

  'No second thoughts?' Drew asked 'Just one.'

  Kirsty felt him stiffen and relented immediately, delighting in the power she had over him.

  'Mmm. I'm wondering if I made the right decision allowing you to bring me here. Oh, Drew,' she told him, her eyes suddenly darkening, 'just think-if we'd stayed at the farmhouse, by now . . .'

  'We'd have been lovers,' Drew finished for her. 'A special licence and soon we can be. I want it as much as you, Kirsty-more, perhaps,' he added wryly, 'but I want you as my wife; tied to me so firmly that you can't change your mind.'

  'I won't she promised against his lips, joy flooding her heart and mind. He loved her. Really loved her!

  He started to laugh.

  'What's the matter?' Kirsty demanded half fearfully.

  'Nothing. l'm just thinking that Shakespeare, were he to have witnessed our behaviour these last few weeks, would probably have called it Much Ado About Nothing-don't you agree?'