by Anne Hampson
'Where are we going?' she asked as Scott began to walk on again.
'Into the remote fastnesses of the grounds,' he answered teasingly. 'Into the darkness and the privacy of the tropical garden, where we'll find a quiet spot and—er—talk.'
She stopped again, but Scott gripped her arm tightly and she was propelled towards the darkness, and the loneliness of the grounds, away from the lights and music and the laughing, chattering guests who were staying at Coral Gables.
'I don't want to—to talk,' she said, trying once more to stop in her tracks.
'Then we won't talk.' His grip tightened and she almost cried out. This man was not the Scott she had known. He couldn't possibly be! No one could change so much as this— 'We'll make love instead!' And before she could grasp his intention she was in his arms, and his mouth forced itself against hers, pressing hard until she felt her lips must surely be bruised. She struggled, naturally, but to no avail. Tears stung her eyes as the previous gentleness of Scott's kisses came back to her. Tender he had been, and his arms about her were a mere caress. But now he was the demanding master, in full command of the situation, determined to make her aware of his strength.
'Let me go!' she cried when at last his lips moved to her neck and then lower to where he was finding the curve partly revealed by the low V of her neckline. 'Let me go, I say! You're forgetting again that I'm married!'
He gave a short crisp laugh and took her chin in his hand, forcing it up.
'Married… and are you in love?'
'Of—of course—'
'Liar! And because you're not in love there's no reason why we shouldn't enjoy ourselves. Your husband will never know—'
'You must be mad! That—that person, Alma, might be that sort, but I am not!' Her eyes blazed; she stamped her foot hard on the ground. 'If you don't let me go I shall scream!'
'You'll not scream,' he returned with confidence. 'Kiss me again—'
'Again?' she quivered. 'I haven't kissed you at all yet!'
'Ah, but you have, many times. Have the past four years been so long that your memory's dulled?'
'Let me go,' she pleaded, spent now and breathless. Her body felt crushed, so strong was his hold on her. 'Take me back, Scott, please.'
'Do you really want to go back?' His low voice mocked; it was clear that he expected her to capitulate and she felt choked with disgust. The man was hateful!
'Most certainly I want to go back.'
His lips found hers again, cruel and fierce.
'Sure?' he whispered in a moment, and this time she found she could not answer. For his kiss had stirred her senses, and her emotions; his arms about her, strong and ruthless in their hold, had set her pulses racing. She felt as if all her own strength was giving way under the domination of his. Was this what she desired, after all? Was this the mastery she had decided she required in the man she would eventually marry? No, she told herself fiercely… and yet the next moment she was as putty in his embrace, responding to his kisses and the pressure of his lean lithe body against hers. The wild throbbing of her heart was threatening to choke her when at last sanity returned and she began to struggle in his arms. But how useless it was to expend her last remaining strength!
'You might just as well give in,' he said as if reading her thoughts. 'I'm the master, Jane, and you shall succumb to my will.' Inexorable tones, and emphasized. Jane felt defeated under the impression that he meant to prove to her that he was after all strong enough to conquer her.
'You've changed so much, Scott,' was all she could find to say when he at last afforded her the opportunity to speak.
'That again?' Not the slightest measure of contrition, not the least flicker of apology or regret in his eyes as they considered her in the faint light afforded by the stars shining down from a clear Caribbean sky. 'Of course I've changed. And for the better, I hope. Didn't you enjoy being mastered?'
Too disgusted to speak, Jane fell into a brooding silence. And after a short while she saw his face slowly soften and a faint smile touch the hard outline of his mouth. He reminded her quietly that she had not answered his question and she managed to say,
'No, I didn't enjoy being—being mastered.'
'Jane… you little liar,' he returned softly, and he touched her forehead with gentle fingers, pushing them through her hair for a moment before letting the palm of his hand come to rest on her clear wide brow. 'You were afraid, I know, but deep down you enjoyed it. No,' he said when she would have interrupted him, 'don't lie again. It's not like you to be dishonest.'
She caught her lip between her teeth. This sudden gentleness, taking her by surprise after the way he had treated her, seemed to deprive her of speech. All she knew was that this was a moment of sweet contentment; Scott was the man she had known before and not the cynic he had turned out to be. But quite suddenly she remembered she was supposed to be married and with a little inward gasp she wondered just what Scott was thinking about her. Did he conclude that she too was one of those who went from one to another? The idea hurt excruciatingly and brought forth the rushing reminder that she had a husband.
'You—we shouldn't…' she added, and then tailed off, puzzled by his expression.
'Feeling guilty?' The gentle tone was replaced by that of the cynic and Jane felt her whole body sag. What was this man doing to her? 'My dear Jane, isn't it a little late for regrets and self-recrimination? You and I shall find pleasure together; your husband will find pleasure with another woman. That's how it is today, so let us be in the fashion and take what life has to offer.'
She stared up into his face, her mouth quivering and a dampness settling on her brow where his hand had been. She knew for sure that the interlude of gentleness was now regretted by Scott. It was part of his old self that he wanted to cast off, for ever. Tears stung her eyes; she was only now fully conscious of what she had lost. The old gentle Scott Kingsley had been a rare product in this present-day world, a man in a million.
And she had let him go.
'Will you take me back now?' she begged, in a hopeless, trembling tone. 'Please, Scott.'
'I said I'd force you to succumb to my will,' he reminded her, a curious inflection in his voice and an equally curious expression in his eyes as he looked searchingly into hers.
'I hope you didn't mean it.'
'Shan't we find pleasure together?'
She frowned and shook her head.
'It's absurd even to suggest such a thing.'
'Because you're married?' he said, the strange inflection returning to his voice.
'Not only that. I'm not the sort of girl you assume me to be.'
A small pause and then, with taunting satire,
'You're an old-fashioned girl? Is that what you're telling me?'
Her misted eyes were raised to his.
'You probably don't believe me, because you're so cynical and contemptuous of women, but I am an old-fashioned girl, as you like to term it.'
His underlip rolled in a sneer.
'There aren't any old-fashioned girls left, Jane.'
She said unhappily,
'Do you enjoy being like this—so lacking in ideals?'
The blue eyes glittered.
'I once said that experience breeds cynicism; it also strips a man of his ideals.'
'It seems to me that you've met the wrong types of women.'
'Basically, there's only one type.'
'That's nonsense!'
'All right,' he conceded, 'there are one or two types—but they're all branches of the same tree. You have the good-time woman whose object it is to get rich quick; you have the one who prefers to legalize her wantonness, so she casts her net wide to find a rich husband; then you have the most honest of the three—the one who owns that sex is her business, her means of livelihood-'
'Stop!' she cried. 'I hate you when you talk like this!'
'Hate?' with a raising of his brows. 'Do you have emotions strong enough for hate? Remember, my dear,' he continue
d softly, 'that you're married. Any strong emotions should be kept for your husband.'
She looked at him.
'And yet, only a few moments ago, you suggested we—we enjoy ourselves with one another.' That was difficult to say, but once she had begun she did not see how she could cut off her words.
'Do we need to have strong emotions for that? After all, it would only be a calculated situation—'
'Stop it!' she flashed again, clenching her fists. 'I won't listen! Take me back, at once!'
He shrugged.
'Obviously you're not in the right mood for making love, so back we shall go.' But he pulled her close against him and bent to kiss her, and this time there was a touch of gentleness mingling with the mastery, and there was a touch of persuasion as well, which she resisted, but with difficulty. 'Probably another time,' he murmured, his lips caressing her face. 'Yes, I'm sure your mood will change.'
'It never will!' She again remembered her 'husband' and added, 'You keep on forgetting I'm married.'
That short crisp laugh rang out again.
'We both keep on forgetting you're married.'
Startled by his tone, she. stared at him, wide-eyed and fearful.
'Scott,' she began quiveringly. And she went no further because he interrupted her, speaking slowly and with a hint of amusement in his voice,
'Yes, Jane, I know. I'm not quite without intelligence; Les…' The straight brows were raised, the blue eyes alight. 'Need I continue? You're blushing already—and it's not one of your pretty blushes, but the blush of shame. I don't want to increase your embarrassment—'
'How long have you known?' He had released her altogether and she stepped back, away from him.
'Why, from the first, of course. You made a few slips—like hesitating before saying "husband", but of course it was the room which set me thinking, even before you and I met that first day.'
'The room?'
'I picked up the book from the desk just after my arrival. The receptionist had gone off for the moment and there was no one there. I noticed that room seventeen, which was next to that given to the manager and his wife, had not been occupied by any guest for the past week. Now, the hotel was supposed to be full. I was given the one and only available room. As I was coming from the hotel a short while later I heard the receptionist turn a single man away… and yet room seventeen was unoccupied—or so it would appear, by the entries in the book. I was puzzled, but before I had time to seek out the manager I met you—' Scott spread his hands. 'It was all explained. You're not very clever, Jane. Someone, some time, was going to discover that room seventeen was never given over to a guest. My man Sanders comes round periodically and he'd have noted the odd circumstance.'
Jane had gone white while he was speaking, and now she placed a trembling hand unconsciously on Scott's sleeve.
'Please… you won't—won't dismiss my brother?'
He shook his head thoughtfully.
'Not if you treat me with the respect due to me, and if you do as you're told. As I said, we should find pleasure with one another.'
The colour returned to her cheeks.
'You're despicable!'
A long brown forefinger was wagged close to her face.
'That respect I mentioned. Remember it—or else!'
CHAPTER FIVE
For several hours after going to bed Jane lay awake. The incredible change in Scott's character occupied her thoughts for a long while, and then she found herself thinking about Alma and Scott's casual acceptance of the fact that she had someone else as well as him. She went over in detail the scene of ardour, blushing in the dark on recalling the things Scott had said to her. And lastly she dwelt on his assertion that they would find pleasure with one another. He had repeated this just before leaving her, and although she had turned on him angrily he had merely laughed and prophesied that she would come to a different frame of mind eventually. The final words had been,
'And don't tell your brother that I know of the deception. It doesn't serve my purpose for him to be enlightened. Understand?'
'But—'
'Understand?'
She had nodded and left him, admitting after a short while that it was best for her brother to remain in ignorance, at least for the present. Jane knew him well, and although he had daringly entered into the deception, she was well aware that a disclosure of his deceit would weigh so heavily upon him that without doubt he would throw up his job. Did Scott also suspect this? He had said a strange thing—that it did not serve his purpose for Les to be told that his deception was known by his employer. Scott had previously stated that Les would prove to be an asset to the company, so it did seem that in this lay the explanation for his refusing to allow Jane to disclose the truth to her brother.
The first light of dawn was filtering through the curtains when at last she dozed. But it was a fitful sleep into which she eventually fell and on meeting her brother at the breakfast table she was not surprised when he questioned her, his good-natured face anxious and his eyes dark with concern.
'No,' she replied, 'there's nothing wrong with me. I just didn't sleep very well, that's all.'
'Scott,' he began, 'he was with you a very long time. His girl-friend came back and seemed to be looking for him.'
'We were in the garden, talking.' Jane fidgeted with her toast, spreading the butter without actually knowing what she was doing.
'Talking?'
'Just chatting,' she replied carelessly.
'Jane… you're not—I mean, you and he—?'
'Les, I told you that Scott has no interest in me any more.' She managed to inject a lightness into her voice, but Les said anxiously,
'You yourself? How do you feel about him?'
She shrugged.
'How does one usually feel about an old flame? We parted because we weren't suited. It wasn't as if we were engaged or anything serious like that.'
'But he did ask you to marry him. I can't imagine Scott Kingsley going that far unless he was sure of what he was doing. And he's never married. Isn't that significant?'
'Not particularly. He prefers to have a good time, like many other men.'
'You're sure you're happy about this business—about you and me being married, I mean?'
'I'm not happy,' she admitted. 'You knew from the first that I hated the deception, but I agreed to it finally and I'm willing to abide by my decision.'
'If you were able to tell Scott you were free it might make a difference to your life. To be the wife of a man like him would appeal to a great many women.'
Jane sighed inwardly. It was difficult to obey Scott's injunction not to tell Les that he, Scott, was aware of the deception.
'Scott would never want to marry me, so there's no need for you to be anxious, Les. And now, please let the matter drop. There are other more important things to discuss. Is everything arranged for the barbecue tonight?'
'Almost. But of course I shall be busy all day. Will Scott be coming, do you think?'
'I shouldn't be surprised.'
'Then it must be perfect. I'm hoping great things might come out of this job, Jane,' he confided suddenly, his voice lightening and an eagerness entering his eyes. 'Scott seems very taken with what I've already done. He's remarked on several changes I've made, so he's obviously taking notice. The company have much larger hotels than this and I'd love to manage a really grand place.'
Jane said nothing. It was just as she had thought. The secret must be kept, for otherwise her brother's whole future could be jeopardized.
Half an hour later she was on her way to Driftwood House, her thoughts darting about in all directions but always returning to the moment when she would come face to face with her employer. How would he react to seeing her, in the cold light of the morning? She herself must surely colour, since the whole scene would rise before her, the scene in the dark garden of Coral Gables, when Scott had held her in his arms and forced his kisses on her. That she would go through the
most embarrassing few moments of her life there was no doubt at all.
Just as she suspected, Scott greeted her with that look of sardonic amusement, enjoying her discomfiture, his eyes never leaving her flushed face.
'Well, how are we this morning?'
'I'm very well, thank you.'
'You didn't sleep well, obviously,' he observed after a while. 'Thinking of me?'
She sent him a speaking glance and said coldly,
'I have other more interesting things to think about.'
He laughed.
'Such as?'
Jane was in his study; she asked what she must do.
'You said there was a report to type,' she reminded him.
His eyes narrowed.
'Don't adopt that attitude with me,' he recommended softly. 'You work for me; I've warned you to remember this.'
Jane averted her head.
'I'd like to keep the whole thing on a business footing,' she said at length. 'As you say, I work for you, as your secretary, and our relationship should begin and end with this.'
'A business footing, eh?' Scott became thoughtful. There was an enigmatical quality about him that she had noticed before and once again she wished for nothing so much as to be able to understand him. 'Perhaps you're right, Jane. We'll see.' And he instantly became brisk, giving her orders for the day. She said automatically,
'Shall I type the report first?' and just as automatically she was at the door, opening it and passing through, her footsteps silent on the thick carpet. The door closed and she moved along the corridor to her own room where she dropped the report on her desk and sat down at the typewriter. Slowly she removed the cover, aware of tears on her lashes. A business footing… The last thing she wanted, yet she had requested it. And Scott had half agreed, appearing indifferent, as though the matter were no longer of any real interest to him. Last night, though, he had been quite emphatic about their finding pleasure with one another, as he had put it. Not like him to switch about, she mused, eyes narrowing. The game he was obviously playing with her was affording him some amusement, no doubt, but if he had any plans up his sleeve for her eventual surrender then he could think again! Her ideals meant a lot to her and she had no intention of allowing Scott or any other man to rob her of them.
