A Bid for Love & A Chance of Happiness

by J. B. Sherrard

  Her confused thoughts were interrupted by Tom who approached quietly and muttered in her ear, "Is that your famous professor?"

  Petra nodded.

  "But he's—I mean—isn't he the son, Peregrine Arden?"

  Petra nodded again miserably. Her day was ruined. All the happy anticipation which had buoyed her up for the past few days drained away leaving her feeling sick, depressed and empty.

  "Has he recognised you?" whispered Tom, his eyes alight with amusement as he remembered Petra's account of her meeting with Peregrine.

  "Of course he has," snapped Petra. "For goodness' sake, Tom, if you've nothing helpful to say, go away."

  At that moment Professor Romilly turned his attention back to Petra and noting her angry flush and the scowl she directed at Tom he said, "How did you envisage the afternoon, Miss Hinton? Introdction, lecture and slides followed by questions?"

  "Yes, Professor." She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes, Professor, that would be just right." And then seeing a hint of gentleness soften his gaze, she coloured again, furious as she realised he was sorry for her. He'd seen Tom's amusement at the ludicrous situation and he was sorry for her. To Petra this was the ultimate humiliation, and she knew her feelings were clearly demonstrated by the blush that painted her cheeks.

  Anxious to do something, she looked at her watch. It was two twenty-five. David Hellman, armed with the slides, disappeared to the lecture theatre and Tom followed him, to take his place in the staff seats. Silence slipped round them, the only two people in the staff-room and Petra said awkwardly, "We're all looking forward to your lecture very much. I think you'll find the theatre's full."

  "Thank you," he replied gravely. "I'm looking forward to it, too. Time to go?"

  Petra nodded and led the way through the college to the lecture theatre, packed with expectant students. They paused for a moment outside the door and the professor said softly, "Wish me luck."

  Petra glanced up in surprise, but as there was no mockery in his dark eyes she smiled faintly and said, "Good luck, Professor."

  They entered to a tumultuous round of applause and when it finally faded and Nicholas Romilly had taken his place at the lectern, Petra took a deep breath and stepped forward to introduce him.

  She had taken immense care in her choice of clothes and before all her confidence had been crushed by the discovery that Nicholas Romilly and Peregrine Arden were somehow one and the same person, she had been pleased with how she looked. Her morale had been high as she regarded herself in the mirror at home. The cut of her skirt pleased her, flaring from the hip to fall in gentle fullness round her legs, her silk blouse, soft and creamy, had been bought specially for this occasion and made her feel chic and sophisticated. She had set out to make a good impression on the professor she had to entertain, and now that she realised all that was wasted effort, she was determined no one in the audience should feel her humiliation.

  With a resolute lift of her chin, her confidence boosted a little by the faint rustle of her silk blouse and the swing of her skirt, she launched into her prepared introduction. There was complete silence as she spoke and when she half-turned to say "and so ladies and gentlemen, I am proud and honoured to give you Professor Nicholas Romilly," she was rewarded by a brief smile in acknowledgement of the build-up she had given him.

  Nicholas Romilly's lecture was superb. He held his audience from the first moment, explaining clearly but without over-simplification how he worked and to what end.

  He made use of slides throughout the lecture, to illustrate a point or an idea, and because of this he spoke in a darkened hall with only the reading light on the lectern to illuminate his mobile and expressive face. His voice, deep and musical, carried clearly through the hall, without apparent effort, and the light and shade of his tone kept his listeners attentive and interested. Everyone in the lecture theatre was captivated and when he came on to more detailed discussion of his most recent dig on one of the outlying Greek islands, Thessos, his own enthusiasm was reflected in the hall.

  First he told them the legend attached to the island. There was a beautiful young princess, so the story goes, who was to marry a prince from a neighbouring city-state. But before the wedding took place he was carried off in a raid by some pirates. She sent sailors out to find him and to bring him back, but he was never found.

  "Refusing to accept that he was lost to her and so marry another man her father had chosen, she ran away and sailed to the island of Thessos where she lived alone, waiting for him. While she waited for his return she had a palace built for him and a temple to Poseidon, the god of the sea. Her lover never did come back, but she lived there in readiness until she died."

  Nicholas Romilly paused and a smile lit his face. "Those are the legendary origins of the settlement on Thessos. Now I propose to discuss the more tangible evidence that we found."

  Tom had asked Petra if Professor Romilly could speak. Now he had his answer.

  When at last he drew his talk to a close, he was greeted by thunderous applause. Students and staff alike rose to their feet. Petra too applauded, all antagonism towards the man temporarily displaced in her enthusiasm for what he had said. She had read several of his books, and had been impressed with their lucidity, but they lacked the direct impact of the man's personality. His own burning enthusiasm for his subject infected his audience and whether or not they had been interested in archaeology before, that interest was kindled now. And Petra was too generous not to pay him tribute.

  Questions poured in from all over the floor of the theatre and with great patience he answered them clearly, trying to leave the questioner satisfied before moving on to the next question.

  At last, Miss Danvers caught Petra's eye and was invited to propose a vote of thanks, after which Petra waited while the theatre emptied and Nicholas Romilly collected up the notes he had before him, but to which he had seldom referred, and the slides David Hellman had projected during the course of the lecture.

  At last he turned to Petra and said, "Well, that seemed to go all right. What happens next?"

  "Back to the staff-room, I think, but you may find quite a crowd waiting for you on the way."

  He smiled, and his dark face was lit for a moment with pure mischief. "It's nice to receive such a welcome."

  Chapter Three

  It took some time for them to regain the sanctuary of the staff-room. A large group of students, mostly those from Petra's own third year history group, were indeed waiting outside the lecture theatre and Nicholas Romilly was not the man to pass by and refuse to answer questions; but at last they closed the door and were left only to face the staff. Most of them however, after congratulating the professor on his lecture, drifted away, leaving Petra alone with her guest.

  "What happens next?" he asked again as he accepted a cup of coffee and sat down in a chair by the fire.

  "Well, nothing for an hour or so, then there's the Principal's reception. If you'd care to go to your room and rest until then, I'll come and collect you for that."

  "Rest?" The professor raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Do I look that tired?"

  "No, of course not," said Petra hastily, some of her former antagonism returning; it was infuriating the way this man had the knack of twisting even the simplest words. "I just thought you might want to change or something," she added lamely. If not she would have to entertain him alone for nearly an hour and a half, and the thought appalled her.

  As if she had spoken this thought he said, "Well, you needn't worry about entertaining me, I'll be good and go to my room."

  It was said so innocently that Petra looked up sharply, trying to detect the mockery which must lie behind his words, but apart from a tell-tale twitch at one corner of his mouth, Nicholas Romilly remained serious-faced.

  "I'll show you the way," she said and led him up to one of the guestrooms in the staff wing.

  He paused at the door, turning back to her and said, "Now you won't forget me, will you?"

  T
his sally drew an unwilling smile from Petra and Nicholas smiled too.

  "No," she replied. "I'll be back between six and half past."

  By the time Petra returned to collect her guest she had been home and changed into a more sophisticated dress. The Principal's reception was not a formal affair, but Petra had been warned by Miss Danvers that the women tended to dress up for the occasion.

  As she had bathed and changed, the sole content of her thought was Nicholas Romilly. How did he equate with the arrogant, cold-hearted Peregrine Arden? There must be an explanation, for though the man was the same, his behaviour was entirely inconsistent. She wondered if he would mention Mrs. Arden and their previous encounter. He could have done so earlier, but apart from a veiled reference to it when they were introduced, he had made no move to explain or justify himself.

  'He may be a brilliant lecturer and archaeologist,' she thought, 'but that doesn't mean he has no responsibilities as a son. Even if he's away for months at a time, particularly if he's away for months at a time, he should see that his mother is provided for and cared for.'

  Petra had reached the same verdict as before, but this time she wasn't quite as confident that there could be no valid excuse; her judgment was tinged with uncertainty and it worried her. At the back of her mind were his words, "You know nothing of the situation," and though she had decided there was nothing she could know which would excuse the conditions in which Mrs. Arden lived, the words nagged her and she wondered if she had been quite fair. Still, she had to make the evening tolerable for both of them and she resolved that she wouldn't refer to Mrs. Arden, if he didn't.

  Wearing a clinging dress of midnight blue, scooped low at the neck hinting at what it concealed rather than revealing anything, and with her hair a golden sheen about her face, she knocked on Professor Romilly's door.

  "Ready, Professor?" she enquired as he opened it to her.

  "Yes, indeed." He paused for a moment as his eyes swept over her with undisguised approval, and then said, "Do you think, Miss Hinton, that as we're to spend the next hour or so together we could manage Christian names?"

  Taken off guard, Petra said, "Of course, if you like."

  "I do like," said Nicholas and before she could move he leaned forward and, bending his head, kissed her on the cheek. "Good evening, Petra."

  Her hand flew involuntarily to her cheek and she stepped back, needing a deep breath before she could reply, "Good evening, Nicholas."

  "Better," he said with a grin. "Now, lead me into the lion's den."

  Nicholas mixed easily at the reception to which the fourth year students, the staff and other visiting speakers had been invited. He was charming and relaxed, talking easily with everyone, and Petra decided she could slip away once he was established and join Tom who was waving to her from across the room.

  But as she moved from Nicholas' side, he put out a hand to stay her and asked her opinion on his answer to a particular question.

  "Don't go off and leave me," he murmured as Miss Danvers approached. "You're supposed to be looking after me, remember?"

  "You are perfectly well able to look after yourself," snapped Petra, but she remained at his side while he listened with complete attention to Miss Danvers' congratulations on the success of his lecture.

  "You've lit a fire of enthusiasm today," she cried. "Several of the students have been asking about joining the dig in the summer vacation."

  "If they can get themselves there, I'll be delighted to see them," said Nicholas cheerfully, "but don't let them think it's all treasure hunting. It's extremely hard work and at times back-breaking and boring."

  "Don't worry, Professor, it'll only be the dedicated ones who make the effort, but it would be a marvellous experience for them."

  "I agree entirely," said Nicholas. "There's nothing like practical field work to give insight into the whole subject. Don't you agree, Petra?"

  Petra, whose attention was about to be claimed by the approaching Tom, turned back to the conversation and having had the question repeated, agreed.

  "Have you ever been involved in a dig, Petra?" Nicholas asked, refusing to let Tom detach her from him.

  "Yes, in Northumberland. A Roman villa."

  Tom, realising he couldn't take Petra out of the circle of conversation, joined it, and Petra was forced to introduce him to Nicholas.

  "I think we met once before briefly, didn't we?" Nicholas asked innocently as they shook hands.

  "We weren't actually introduced," said Tom coldly as he remembered the scene in the hall outside Petra's flat.

  "No, of course not," went on Nicholas smoothly. "You were busy at the time, I recall."

  There was a glint of malicious amusement in his eyes as he saw the colour flood Petra's face, and she in turn glowered at him, furious that she had never been able to control her blushes whether induced by anger or embarrassment.

  Tom, however, was not easily deterred and he said lightly, "A group of us are planning to go out to dinner once this do is over. Petra's invited, of course. Perhaps you'd like to join us too, Professor?"

  Nicholas smiled with regret. "Thank you, no. I already have a table booked for dinner and Petra's very kindly consented to keep me company—after all Miss Danvers did say she was mine for today—" and seeing Petra was opening her mouth to protest he went on smoothly, "And we still have so much to discuss—haven't we, Petra?" His eyes, suddenly hard and dark as they had been when she had met him as Peregrine Arden challenged her, dared her to admit that he had not already asked her out to dinner.

  For a long moment she was on the point of taking up the challenge and turning him down, but she was still intrigued by his dual identity and so she said to Tom, "I'm sorry, Tom."

  Tom's eyes glittered angrily for a moment. He was as certain as he could be that no such arrangement had been made and he could feel Petra was drawn to this tall man who seemed able to dictate her actions all of a sudden; but he controlled his anger with the thought that he could see Petra every day and so was able to say, "I'm sorry too, Petra. See you tomorrow. Don't forget my lecture at ten, will you?" He gave them a tight-lipped smile and returned to the group he had been with earlier.

  Petra found she was clutching her handbag tightly, her knuckles clenched white round the handle. She felt angry with both men. Both of them assumed that they could command her attendance at the dinner-table without so much as a request, and she was on the point of turning back to Nicholas and saying she had changed her mind when he spoke again.

  "Can we go soon? I really do want to talk to you in peace. We do have a mutual concern, remember?"

  Petra sighed. "Perhaps we should give it another ten minutes," she said, "then I think we could slip away."

  "Then let's have another drink before we leave," and taking her arm, Nicholas piloted her across to the table where some of the students were dispensing drinks.

  As he handed her a glass, Petra managed to free her arm from his grasp, yet even when he was no longer holding her, she seemed to feel the grip of his fingers on her flesh, a tingling patch on her skin.

  "Now, where do you suggest we go to eat?" he said as they moved back into the crowd.

  "I thought you'd booked a table?" said Petra raising her eyes to his in surprise.

  "I'd got as far as thinking about it," Nicholas conceded with a twinkle. "But I must admit I was going to consult you on the subject as I don't know the town."

  Petra was at a loss for a moment, not quite knowing what to suggest.

  "Where will your friends go, do you think?" asked Nicholas.

  Petra shrugged. "I don't know. Angelo's probably. They can dance there, too."

  "Then," said Nicholas with decision, "I suggest we choose somewhere else!"

  When they emerged from the college buildings, they were almost swept off their feet by the gale howling in from the sea. It was bitterly cold and the wind knifed through them. Petra clutched her coat about her and her hair streamed into her face.

  "This way
," said Nicholas and once more taking her arm, he hurried her across to the car park where his car was waiting. Once they were both safely inside, he glanced across at her in the darkness and said, "That's some gale out there." The car rocked violently as he spoke, shaken by a sudden gust of wind.

  Petra said, "It can blow up very quickly in this part of the world. There are some nights when the windows rattle so hard I'm afraid they'll blow in."

  "Sounds as if you're in for a rattling night." Nicholas smiled as he started the engine. "Now, where do we go?"

  Sincerely hoping she had guessed correctly about Tom's crowd choosing Angelo's, Petra directed him to another restaurant, Papillon, further along the coast road. As they drove along the promenade, windswept and deserted, they saw the pounding surf flung high above the road, sparklets gleaming in the light of the street lamps.

  When they reached the restaurant they were given a quiet table in a corner.

  It wasn't until they were eating their main course that Nicholas broached the subject of Mrs. Arden.

  "I want to talk to you about—my mother." There was an almost imperceptible pause before he said the last two words, and Petra looked across at him, wondering if she really wanted to hear his excuses, whatever they might be.

  He put down his knife and fork and said quietly, "Even a condemned man may speak in his own defence."

  The ever ready colour suffused Petra's cheeks. "You aren't a condemned man," she said testily.

  "Aren't I?" Nicholas' dark eyes held hers for a long moment, seeming to search her soul. "Haven't you already condemned me as a cold-hearted son who neglects his mother, when, whatever his feelings about her, he has the moral duty to see she is cared for?"