Then she found Nate had seen what was going through her mind, when curtly he told her, 'I'd advise you to read it first before you throw it away.'
'You know what he's written!' she exclaimed, certain from his remark that he must.
'As a matter of fact, yes,' he replied, and without another word left for wherever it was he was going.
For several minutes after the outer door had closed, she did not move; Nate's attitude had given her plenty to think about. She couldn't help but remember back to Friday, or to reflect that with the way he was being today, if he considered she had been compromised half a dozen times over, then never again would he ask 'Are you going to marry me?'
And so much for her thinking he was being more assertive than usual! The assertive manner was there, undoubtedly, but what sort of head of company was it who decided he intended to go out and get whatever it was he was being particularly assertive about, by going on holiday?
Jealousy picked at her that he was going on holiday with some woman he knew, and she couldn't take it. Needing
action, she leaned forward, took hold of his paper knife and slit open the envelope he had handed her, wondering sourly why it was sealed at all since Nate knew what Rex had written. A minute later, so did she.
'Dear Kathryn,' Rex had written, 'If you had got this far without tearing up any communication from me, then may I hope you don't hate me as much as I deserve?
To apologise for the terrible shock yeu received that awful day isn't sufficient, but I do humbly ask you to forgive the hurt I caused you
Lying here has given me plenty of time to think. Time to realise that while you are more special than at the time we were engaged I was able to see that the love we shared was not the love that true, everlasting marriages are made of. How otherwise could I have done what I did? How else could you keep away from the hospital?
There will always be a deep affection in my heart for you, Kathryn. Be happy, darling. Love, Rex.'
'Oh, Rex!' Kathryn whispered softly, and remembering all the good times they had shared, felt an affection stir in her heart too. She was glad he had seen they hadn't loved each other the way they should have done. She saw then what their relationship had been all about—it had been a skirmish into romance, possibly something that had to happen so that when real love came along they would both recognise it. One day Rex would find himself everlastingly in love, the way Nate had said Kingersbys gave their hearts only once. The way she, who was not a Kingersby, had given her heart. All she hoped was that when the time came for Rex to bestow his heart, he fared better with his love than she had.
'Read your letter?' was the first thing Nate asked when he came striding in nearly two hours later.
'Yes,' she replied. And since he seemed to be waiting for more she found some coolness of her own when she said, 'I
won't bother you with my reply—I'll post it.'
'Does the fact that you're answering it at all mean you're prepared to forgive him?' he asked abruptly.
And her coolness evaporated then, because that could only mean Nate's love for his brother had him wanting to protect Rex if she intended writing anything that would upset him.
'Yes,' she replied quietly. 'I—I find I still feel an affection for him.'
'But you don't love him?' The question came aggressively, and with the same rapidity as a rocket-projected missile.
Sorely tempted to say she did love Rex, reasoning that it 'might take any idea out of Nate's head that she might love him, she took her time in answering, which didn't suit him at all.
'Well?' he rapped impatiently. And looking at him, she just couldn't voice the he.
'I believe I told you once before that I no longer love him,' she said, and analysing what she did feel for Rex, she shrugged and explained, 'My feelings for him are—sisterly, I suppose.'
To her surprise, and had she not been looking at him she would have missed it, she could have sworn Nate's face took on a look of such instantaneous delight, for all it was quickly concealed, that it baffled her. But the change in his expression had been fleeting, quickly banished, and could never have been she thought, as straight away his face became stern and arrogant.
'Have you typed that dictation back yet?' he asked shortly, making her want to hit him suddenly, because fast she was, but not jet-engined.
On Friday morning she rose early, looked at the suit she intended to wear that day, a suit Nate had seen her in several times, and suddenly she wanted to wear something more eye-catching than that.
It was perverse of her to want to catch his attention, she knew that, when all week she had taken her impersonal attitude from him. Not once had he smiled at her. He had kept up that cool remoteness just as though he couldn't wait for today to end and with it her job with the company. Not once had she caught his eyes staring at her mouth as sometimes they had, staring as if he was remembering the kisses they had exchanged.
But having told herself the week had progressed as she wanted it, purely secretary and boss, no warmth emitted from either side, she found as she looked distastefully at the suit she was to put on that she wanted Nate to treat her differently from the robot she was sure was what he had seen her as ever since Monday morning.
She took a peep out of the window. It looked like being a beautiful day out there. And it was the weather that decided her on the blue crepey dress that was a shade dressy for the office, but acceptable.
Having washed her hair last night, although Thursday wasn't a regular hair-washing night, she sat before her dressing table mirror-brushing the shining cap around her ears, and was glad she had done so. And when she was ready at last she couldn't help the thought, as she looked at her reflection, that if she didn't get at least a tiny reaction, then she would know a robot was all Nate Kingersby considered her.
But if she had made an extra effort that morning, then Nate, who was in her office when she went in, was more immaculate than she had ever seen him. He was wearing a dark suit she had never seen before, and where she couldn't remember him wearing at work anything but coloured shirts, or a white shirt with a stripe in it, this morning he was wearing the crispest white shirt she had ever seen. His shoes too looked as though they had received an extra rub, even his thick dark hair looked as though he had tried to
tame it with a brush. The whole effect of him made her heart turn over, he looked so superb.
'G-Good morning,' Kathryn managed, trying to tear her eyes away.
'Good morning,' he replied. And it was there, the admiration her foolish heart wanted, there in his eyes as they swept from her shining head to her dainty shoes. 'May I say you're looking particularly lovely this morning?' he added.
But the glow that had warmed her had her feeling less of a robot, vanished abruptly when at ten o'clock Nate told her he was going out. And she was absolutely devastated that he could be so uncaring as to add, as if by the way, that he wouldn't be back that day.
'I might as well say goodbye now,' she said, striving not to cry, because it looked as if his head was so full of the holiday he was going on, he had forgotten this was her last day.
Pride would still have had her holding out her hand if he had, but he didn't. He merely looked at her as though he had a hundred and one things to sort out about his holiday, while she was just another secretary on her way out.
lAu revoirwas all he said, and went quickly, avoiding the hurt in her eyes.
Kathryn tried to rail against him when he had gone. She needed that anger; tried to scorn his Au revoir when he knew very well they wouldn't be seeing each other again. But she felt so heartsore she wasn't at all certain she was going to keep her tears down for very much longer.
The way Nate had so casually parted from her after all that lay between them was still occupying all her thoughts when just before eleven the phone rang, and she almost had heart failure to hear his voice ordering:
'Pack up and leave whatever you're in the middle of, Kathryn. Come and have a farewell drink with me
.'
'I . . .'
That was as far as she managed, her wits scattered to hear his voice so unexpectedly. Belatedly the thought came that it was usual to have a farewell lunchtime session on one's last day, although it was nowhere near lunch time. But she had done nothing about telling anyone else she was leaving, nor for that matter had she done anything about organising a get-together in the pub across the road.
'Did you hear me, Kathryn?'
'We've said our goodbyes,' she said, not wanting another casual Au revoir, although she was aching for one last chance to see him.
And then there was a change in Nate when his voice came again. He wasn't ordering her this time. A coaxing note was there that had her backbone turning to water.
'Would you disappoint your fellow workers just because you've seen enough of me?' he asked softly.
Her resistance was rapidly disappearing. She had to fasten on to something. 'Fellow workers?' she queried, and joy burst senselessly in her heart that he couldn't have meant her to leave without some sort of send-off. 'Have you arranged for people I know to be there?'
'I assure you, you'll soon be seeing a whole host of people you know,' he thrilled her by saying.
Bearing in mind that they worked flexi-time, that lunch-time was staggered between twelve and two, Kathryn saw she would have to be there at twelve to greet the first arrivals.
'I'll leave about five to twelve.' She gave in, simply because she wanted to.
'Leave now, Kathryn. We're not using the pub across the road.'
'But we always use the Crown for. . .' she started to say— only to be informed that they weren't today, as Nate mentioned a plushy hotel she would need to take her car to get to.
'Come now,' he ended, and was so commanding again as he put down the phone that she knew he would be angry if she disobeyed him.
She looked down at the matter in her typewriter. She had an urge brought about by the efficiency in her secretarial soul to stay and finish it, but was then swamped by an even bigger urge to see Nate as soon as possible. He had ordered her to 'Come now', after all, hadn't he? she quietened her secretary's conscience as she pulled the paper out of her machine and stuffed it away in a drawer.
Then she was in the cloakroom, washing her hands, tidying her hair, checking on her make-up, before going out to the car park.
At a quarter past eleven she was slowing down her Mini and looking for a place to park. The hotel was to her left, but a drayman's lorry was blocking up the entrance to the rear. She spotted a place near a church opposite just about right for her small car, she thought, and was in there with a nifty piece of parking while her heartbeats were telling her, for all she might look cool, it had recognised the excitement with which she was anticipating meeting Nate on the semi-business, semi-social occasion.
Locking the car, she turned and crossed the road, then composing her features she mounted the steps to the hotel. Pushing through the revolving door, she saw Nate at once standing there waiting for her, looking more dashing than she had ever seen him, his immaculate appearance added to in the shape of a red rose attached to the lapel of his jacket.
He smiled, and she didn't know if it was because he was pleased to see her, but thought it more probably because she had obeyed his instructions.
'Come with me,' he said, barely greeting her as he took hold of her arm and escorted her into some sort of an anteroom.
It passed through her mind to think it was going to be a
bit of a crush if all her colleagues assembled in this room. For apart from a two-seater settee and an easy chair, there was no other seating accommodation, and only one very small occasional table. Still, if Nate had arranged with the management that they use this room, having no argument with the smartness of the place, then most of them would have to stand and hold their drinks.
Nate closed the door and led her straight to the settee, then sat down with her, surprising her, for although she wasn't particularly bothered about a drink, she would have thought he would have gone to the bar or have rung for service.
Tension then became a tight knot inside her to have him sitting so close. The earliest anyone else could get here would be another hour's time. Oh, why had she rushed to do his bidding?
'Do you—er—think there's room for them all in here?' came blurting from her, conscious as she was that he had turned and was looking at her. 'It—er—might be a bit of a crush—don't you think?'
'It would be,' Nate agreed solemnly, too close for comfort, and to her astonishment, 'if we were expecting anyone else to turn up here.'
'Not exp . ..!' Her eyes flew to his, her surprise not diminished when fresh shock hit her that never had she seen Nate looking more purposeful. 'What—do you mean?' she gasped. 'On the phone you said ...'
'Forget for a moment what I told you over the phone, Kathryn, and listen to what I have to say now.'
'But. ..' She struggled with something not unlike fear, for the seriousness of his expression told her he had something of vital importance to say. But she was unable to forget he had got her there on the pretence that a whole crowd of people would be there, and yet here he was now saying . . .
Shock, fear, tension, all emotions went save the anger that replaced them. 'You think you'll stand less chance of us being disturbed if you give me the dressing down you think I deserve here for my not being a meek and mild secretary,' she challenged. The way he had looked at her last Friday shot into her head, that look that had said he intended to deal with her in his own way, and suddenly she was convinced that was why he had got her there.
But instead of starting to sort her out, Nate looked back at her, not a glimmer of a smile anywhere about him. 'You don't trust me an inch, do you?'
'No, I don't,' she fired back.
'Have you never fully believed how sincerely I regret the way we started out? Have you never believed how bitter the taste of remorse has been for me to swallow?'
Anger cooled as quickly as it had come. Did she not believe that? How could she not, when the very fact that he had twice intimated he would marry her told her how that word 'honour' rested with him?
'Y-Yes,' she said slowly, not wanting to. A feeling came over her that since they were to part, loving him as she did, how could she bear that he should not know himself believed? 'Yes, I believe you,' she added, her voice very low.
A slight easing came to his expression at that, but bis face was still unsmiling when he said, 'You found it in your heart to forgive my brother, Kathryn. My crime—the sin I committed against you was far greater.' He took hold of her hand, his touch burning although his hand was cool. 'Can you find room in your heart to try to forgive me?' he asked, his sincerity without question.
Kathryn wanted to say 'Why should I?' but they had been over all that before. And with his deep regret, his sincere wish that she try to forgive him, and with his hand now gripping hers, she just couldn't find any hate in her with which to revile him. And suddenly, looking into those
earnest blue eyes, she could find no bitterness in her with which to rail against him either. What he had done he had done because of love for a brother he thought she had broken.
'Oh, Nate,' she said, and saw then why he had brought her away from the office. This matter was a personal one— personal to Nate and her. He had wanted to have her forgiveness before she said goodbye to him for ever. That thought alone, that this time her goodbye to him would be final, had her battling desperately so he shouldn't see she was falling apart inside, had her exerting what will power she had to find some stiffening. She mustn't go weak at the knees just because he was holding her hand while waiting for her to add something to that 'Oh, Nate' that had left her. She must tell him she forgave him in an adult way, must shake hands and then go. She dredged up a surface smile. 'Life's too short to go around bearing a grudge, isn't it?' she succeeded in saying lightly.
But as her light tone reached him she saw at once from the pulse that beat in his temple that he just wasn't believin
g she didn't hold the past against him. Then even instinct was working against her, her heart stronger than her head, so that without her knowing it her hand was gripping his in return, and she could be no other than natural with him. She could not beat down that part of her that had the sincerity of her feelings coming through, that had her speaking softly:
'I forgive you, Nate, of course I do.' And as a light showed in his eyes how much her forgiveness meant to him, to his honour she had to remind herself, she smiled a natural smile, and told him, 'I'm glad you arranged this meeting. It's easier to talk here than in the office, isn't it? A-And I shouldn't like to have left with things--the way they were.'
'Kathryn—my dear!' The tenderness in Nate'svoice had
her bones ready to melt even before he added, 'The sweetness of you makes me more aware than ever of how deeply I've wronged you.' Then, his voice stronger, 'I shall work on getting you to trust me completely. But for the moment, will you try to trust me just a little?'
Knowing herself confused, for very soon she would be walking away from him, away from any chance of teaming to trust, she looked at him blankly. Then she knew he had seen she was lost to what he was talking about, and tried desperately hard to keep her emotions under control when he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, his eyes holding hers.
'You once told me in no uncertain terms, did you not, that you wouldn't marry me because you had little faith that I wouldn't leave you humiliated in front of the wedding guests by not turning up?' he asked, setting her heart banging against her ribs that he should suddenly switch the conversation back to the one of marriage.
'Yes,' she said, her voice barely audible as it came to her to wonder if he intended a last try to fully redeem his honour by asking her a third time to marry him. And to wonder if, with Nate still holding on to her hand, no animosity between them now, she would have the strength to say no!
'Then,' he said, his eyes positively burning into hers, some emotion there she couldn't recognise, 'since both you and I are here, our relatives and friends assembled over the road, will you, Kathryn, give me that little trust I ask for and come across the road with me?'
The Other Brother Page 17
