Her smile of greeting wavered as she met the polite mask, and exchanged the murmured conventional words as his hand fleetingly touched hers.
Lady Ravenscar was saying: 'Here is Bertram come to see what is delaying us. As you see, the prodigal is returned, Bertram, and thank you, I shall take your arm with pleasure. Felix can look after Frances,' and giving them a smile she allowed herself to be escorted into the dining room.
Thank you very much, thought Frances in dismay, but perhaps Frances doesn't want Felix to look after her, and judging from his face her feelings were reciprocated. As she began to move Felix Ravenscar detained her with a hard grip on her arm.
'Wait just one moment! I want to have a word with you he said grimly, swinging her back out of sight. 'What the devil are you doing here?' he demanded, his voice low and intense.
Frances stared at him helplessly, a confused set of emotions fighting for dominance within her. Everything was happening too quickly for her to grasp, but one thing was certain—this man was angry, and for some inexplicable reason, the anger was directed at herself.
'What is it? I don't understand . . .' she began.
'Who invited you here?' and he gave a furious shake.
A footfall made them break apart and Simkin's flat tones broke in to the sudden silence.
'We are about to serve, Mr Felix.'
'Thank you, Simkin, we'll be through in a moment."
Face expressionless, Simkin inclined his head and walked into the dining room, tray in hands, and as he disappeared from view Frances said coldly;
"My invitation came from your mother, who did you think it came from?" and without waiting for a reply she made to go, shaken by the amount of suppressed violence emanating from him.
Laughter broke from the dining room and with a muttered oath, Felix Ravenscar said sharply:
'I'll talk to you later—it's impossible now.
Frances stared. 'Always supposing that I want to talk to you, Mr Ravenscar!' She looked pointedly down at his hand on her arm and after a momentary hesitation she was released. 'If it wasn't for the fact that it would cause your mother distress, I would leave now. As it is, I will try and excuse your boorish manner and trust that you keep your hands and your extraordinary behaviour to yourself,' and on this note she left him and entered the dining room.
CHAPTER THREE
The first course was being removed when Lady Ravenscar brought the conversation round to where she wanted it. In a lull in the proceedings she gazed down the table at her son, remarking with deceptive innocence:
'I expect you were surprised to find Frances here this evening, Felix.'
He looked up, glancing briefly at Frances sitting by his side, before returning his regard to his mother. 'Yes, you could say I was surprised. Mother."
To put it mildly, thought Frances, and if she hadn't been so upset and infuriated, she would have laughed.
The remaining guests were looking interested and Gareth Williams, his methodical doctor's mind coming to their aid, spoke for them all.
'Do explain, Margaret. We were all surprised, and delighted, to meet Frances. Why should Felix be especially surprised?"
'And why should Miss Heron be thanked?’
This question afforded Lady Ravenscar immense pleasure, despite the formal use of the name. 'Because Frances is the young girl who helped me when I was ill,' she replied calmly.
Felix Ravenscar's composure was carefully maintained, only a slight movement of his jaw muscle denoted a momentary reaction. Frances" opinion of his acting ability, already high, went up another notch. She rejoiced inwardly. Now he could eat humble pie and like it.
'You have been enjoying yourself, Mother, with your little secrets, haven't you?' he said teasingly, and turning to Frances continued: 'May I add my thanks for coming so ably to her assistance that day?'
The sincerity of his voice jolted her, stabbing at the feeling of superiority and triumph she felt justified in showing as she returned his look, and she dropped her eyes to her plate, murmuring something non-committal. Then reason came to her rescue. Like any normal son, Felix Ravenscar cared for his mother, and would be quite naturally sincere in his thanks . . . and that made no difference to her outraged feelings over the way he had acted on seeing her here. Why had he been so angry? She puzzled over this while tackling a delicious Dover sole.
Someone else was also doing some puzzling.
'You've lost me, Margaret,' complained Lady Ravenscar's brother-in-law. 'Where does the coincidence come in ? Blast if I can see one!'
Lady Ravenscar's eyes twinkled. 'Frances belongs to the acting profession, Bertram.' She paused for effect. 'But the coincidence is more than that. She has just been given a leading role in a play to be serialized on the television . . .'
It seemed that something was expected of her, so Frances gave a hesitant smile, aware of many eyes upon her, especially an unamiable pair on her right.
'. . . and Felix is to direct it,' Lady Ravenscar added gently.
Frances choked and gratefully took the glass of wine handed to her by the son of the house . . . and by the time she had regained her breath the feeling of superiority had fled. As the amazing words sank in she turned and looked at him, unable to hide her dismay. As he raised his brows in question she whispered:
'You? You're the director ofPenruth ?'
'Yes. Didn't you know?'
'How could I know?' she demanded vehemently under her breath. 'No one told me . . .' and her voice trailed and she turned her attention back to the sole, which now tasted like sawdust. Anxiety swept over her in waves, her mind flashing back to the audition to see if there had been any indication, however small, that could have given her a clue. It was hardly any consolation that she could find none. What right has the director to pass himself off as an actor! she thought in disgust, squashing the knowledge that she had assumed this and that he hadn't actually said anything to that effect.
What a mess! This arrogant, dictatorial, infuriating man was her boss!
Frances became aware that Felix Ravenscar was answering some questions about the play and then his mother said.
'I couldn't resist it, Felix. The anticipation of you meeting each other has quite made my day, and you nearly spoilt it all by being late!' She passed on her gaze to Frances. 'Do forgive me, child, but when you told me aboutPenruth I knew that Felix would be directing it and decided, quite on the spur of the moment, to give you both a surprise.'
'You've done that, Mother,' Felix Ravenscar said, giving his sardonic smile, and the meal progressed to general conversation. He turned a few seconds later, murmuring: 'It will look decidedly odd if you refuse to talk to me all evening. Try and make an effort, there's a good girl.'
Frances counted to ten. He's your boss, remember that, she told herself grimly. Your boss for the next ten weeks or more!
She said with tolerable composure: 'I'm quite out of polite conversation, I'm afraid.'
'Then try some that's impolite. I'm sure you'll have no difficulty.'
Frances took a deep breath. He didn't like her any more than she did him. 'Why were you so angry this evening?' she asked at last, deciding that attack was better than defence.
He hesitated and then gave a shrug. 'I thought you were using my mother as a means of meeting me.'
This was the last explanation she was expecting. 'I didn't connect you with Lady Ravenscar,' she said flatly. 'How could I when I didn't even know your surname? And if I had known it, there would have been no difference . . . it would have meant nothing to me, nothing at all.'
'How devastating to my ego,' he replied whimsically. 'Do allow me to give you some more of this wine. I can recommend it.'
'I thought you were an actor,' Frances persisted, setting her jaw stubbornly.
'I was once. I cut my teeth in the live theatre, first as an actor, then as a producer.' He handed her the glass and she found herself sipping the wine obediently. 'I had the chance to work in television on a one-off thing, which wa
s fairly successful. At that time the medium was young and expanding rapidly, new ideas were needed; I was asked to stay on and did so. Now that the industry is gaining maturity and the people in the top jobs firmly established, the openings are fewer. I was lucky to come in when I did.'
When he dropped his cynical manner the man was interesting, Frances thought, and very clever at changing the subject!
'You can't seriously ask me to believe that after being clasped to your manly bosom for a few minutes in a lift I formed an instant passion for you and devised the ingenious plan of getting myself invited here tonight?' She raised her brows incredulously and used her best drawl. 'Come, come, Mr Ravenscar—I can believe that you're aware of your masculine charms, but that's laying it on a trifle thick, isn't it?'
A vegetable dish was on its way round the table and appeared between them. When they had been served and the dish sent on its way, he replied.
'You'd be surprised at the things some actresses get up to,' and showing slight amusement in his voice, added: 'I didn't for one moment think that I personally was the attraction, purely my influence.'
'Really? Well, I can assure you that's not my line at all,' she responded cuttingly. 'Why didn't you say who you were when I told you I was looking for Tom Deverell?'
'I wasn't running the show. Tom was.'
She gave him a pitying smile. 'Oh, come, I'm not that naive. I'm sure Mr Deverell discussed the auditions with you.' She paused and looked at him curiously. 'In fact, I don't see how I got the job. I received the distinct feeling that you didn't like me overmuch, Mr Ravenscar.'
'I never allow personal feelings to overrule business, Miss Heron. The casting of Mary Trewith was whittled down to between two, and you won . . . Tom was struck all of a heap by the colour of your hair.'
She smiled sweetly, 'Which does not come out of a bottle,' and before he could speak further Frances turned her shoulder and became absorbed in the conversation on her left, Doctor Williams being only too pleased to include her in his discussion on the merits of a recent best-selling novel.
Frances finished the remainder of the meal not fully concentrating on what was going on around her, although participating quite adequately, or so she hoped. It was indicative of the man's personality that even against her will she was acutely aware of Felix Ravenscar next to her, and she was also aware of Lady Ravenscar's indulgent smiles as she periodically gazed down the table in their direction.
Obviously this son is the apple of her eye, thought Frances with grim amusement, and she expects me to feel the same way! She's in for a disappointment—and if the fleeting thought passed through her head that had Frances met him under different circumstances her feelings would be different, she crushed it. After all, there were plenty of men who had a good voice and knew how to use it, had charm—not that she had seen much of that!—were knowledgeable, amusing and showed a sharpness of intellect that was abrasive and stimulating. Plenty of men . . . or so she told herself.
When she found herself next to Gareth on removing from the dining room, he brought the subject round to her new job.
'You're lucky to be working for Felix,' he told her quietly. 'He's an excellent director.'
'That's reassuring to know,' admitted Frances, touched by the other's kindly concern. 'I only know the reputation of theatrical producers.'
'From what I can gather,' Gareth went on, 'he's one of the top men in TV and the technical staff are all eager to work with him, which means something, you know . . . technicians are good judges and only want to work with the best.' He smiled and leaned forward confidentially. 'Don't be put off by Margaret's obvious indulgence. Felix is a good son and worthy of her pride. I've known him, and his sister Jessica, for many years.'
Frances smiled back. You make a good advocate,' she teased, and later studied the two men as they stood side by side at the bookcase, in conversation. Although both were dark there the similarity ended. Felix was the taller of the two, and there was a lazy disregard towards undue movement as he rested his arm along the shelf, sipping his drink. Gareth had an unleashed energy just bristling to spring forth, never in repose for long, his hands moved expressively as he spoke, and his dark eyes were rarely still.
After a while Lady Ravenscar made a request for her son to play for them. Felix tossed back his drink in one movement and crossed over to her.
'I think the birthday girl should perform,' he told her, holding out his hand, 'after all, she's the most accomplished pianist among us.'
'No, Felix, not tonight. I am holding court and need to be entertained.'
'As court physician, Gareth should I humour Her Majesty?'
Gareth gave him a push towards the piano, saying: 'Most definitely and he joined Frances on the settee.
'Do you play, Doctor Williams?' asked Frances, and he shook his head.
'No. I have no aptitude and no time.' He nodded in the direction of Felix who was settling himself at the piano. 'He could have been good had he concentrated on music as a career, but then Felix seems as if he could be good at anything he tackles!' and then they were silent as the piano playing began.
Frances lay back against the cushions, allowing the Chopin Nocturne to wash over her, half-closed eyes fixed on the figure at the piano.
As the last notes died away a spontaneous murmur of approval went round the room, but before it had a chance to grow Felix was encouraging Gareth to raise his Welsh voice, and needing no persuasion, Gareth joined him at the piano and they raced into some well-known and loved songs, with everyone joining in. Frances was quietly enchanted by the whole thing.
When the evening began to draw to a close, amid general goodbyes, she made her own to her hostess who gave her to understand that she was expected to visit again at the earliest opportunity.
'I realize that it will not be for some time, but I want to hear all aboutPenruth and Cornwall,' Lady Ravenscar announced, 'and your opinion of Felix as a director.'
'She's hardly likely to tell you that. Mother,' came the dry observation as Felix came up from behind with Frances' cloak, his own coat already on. 'And you wouldn't believe her if it wasn't complimentary,' he added teasingly.
'Oh, wouldn't I?' argued Lady Ravenscar, giving him a shrewd look. 'I know your faults only too well! Goodnight, my son, and God bless.'
'Goodnight, Mother, take care,' Felix said gently, giving her a kiss.
'You are driving Frances home, I hope?' his mother asked quickly, and he replied: 'Of course,' holding out the cloak and lifting Frances' hair free from the collar as she secured the clasp.
'Such pretty hair, Felix, don't you agree?' said Lady Ravenscar admiringly, and with complete composure her son replied.
'It is indeed, and not, I can assure you, out of a bottle.'
His mother looked horrified. 'I should think not! Why do you say that, Felix?'
He smiled and would not answer, merely drawing Frances towards the door, ordering over his shoulder: 'Now, Mother, don't come out, it's far too cold.'
Frances received a brief impression of Lady Ravenscar standing with a bejeweled hand to her throat, the other leaning slightly on her cane, a deeply satisfied look on her face, before she was herself hustled out.
Frances had made no demur regarding the lift home, knowing it was useless to argue. If Felix Ravenscar said that they would talk later, then talk later was what they would do.
She shivered slightly beneath the cloak as she waited for him to unlock the car door. It was a sleek black Lancia, somehow eminently suitable to the image she was being given of this man—comfortable, high-powered but not overtly showy.
She turned and looked back at the house, dark now, and remembered her feelings as she had climbed the steps those few hours ago, wondering as she rang the bell what the evening held for her.
Now she knew. It held the knowledge that her future was tied up with a man who seemed determined to antagonize her.
'Miss Heron?'
Frances turned round to find that he was wait
ing, passenger door held wide, and as she climbed in she said: 'There's no need for this, you know, I could easily have gone home by taxi.'
When he joined her the remark was ignored and he asked calmly:
'Where do you live?'
'Lambeth.' Frances settled back, resigned, and had to admit that it was very comfortable and pleasant being driven home like this. She also realized, rather ruefully, that any righteous indignation she might have felt earlier by his unjustified anger at their meeting had fast dissipated beneath the soothing balm of good food and wine. Apart from the sticky beginning she had to concede that the evening had been very pleasant, and under such circumstances anger was hard to sustain. Especially as good sense ordained that if Felix Ravenscar was to be her boss then it would be madness to start off on the wrong foot. Here she gave a small sigh. She had already done that. Very well, it would be madness not to try and smooth things over between them.
His laconic: 'North or south?' broke into her reverie and she roused herself to say quickly: 'South . . . near the County Court.'
'I know it.' He manipulated the car with ease through the streets and there was silence until he swung into Chelsea Bridge Road.
"I now realise that you were late for the audition because you helped my mother,' he stated at last.’I am right, aren't I?'
'Well, yes . . .'
'Which makes me very thankful that we didn't turn you away unheard. That would have been on my conscience. I doubt we should be celebrating her birthday today had you not whisked her home as you did.' He paused. 'You obviously must have realised that you were putting the audition in jeopardy, yet you still accompanied her. There are not many who would be so unselfish.'
Frances supposed this to be a compliment, but it was said in such a tone that indicated that the fact was hard to credit. She looked out across the Thames at the lights reflected on the water as they motored across Vauxhall Bridge, and couldn't resist commenting: 'What a good job you didn't know before, or I might have thought I'd been given the part inPenruth as a reward for services rendered.
Scorpio Summer Page 5
