The Way of a Tyrant

Home > Romance > The Way of a Tyrant > Page 14
The Way of a Tyrant Page 14

by Anne Hampson


  In this exotic setting Jane and Hal dined and danced, watched the floor show and danced again. Half-way through the evening Scott walked in, alone, and glanced all around, his eyes at last finding what they sought. With his customary easy languid strides he was soon dispensing with the distance between him and the table at which Jane and Hal sat.

  'Good evening, Jane—Hal.'

  'Good evening. Care to join us?' Hal's invitation was half-hearted, to say the least, and Scott regarded him with sudden hauteur.

  'Yes, I would,' he replied, eyes flitting to Jane who was moving her chair round a little in order to make room for the extra chair to be brought to the tiny table.

  Scott sat down and for a few minutes they all watched the limbo dance. It was performed with the legs wide open and, Jane had learned, was originally a love dance brought to the island by slaves from Africa. The men moved their bodies with grace and rhythm, easing themselves under the long bar that was very close to the ground.

  Scott asked what Jane and Hal were drinking and ordered; Les came and joined them, managing to squeeze in another chair. He drank one of the many ambrosial concoctions based on the island's splendid rum.

  When the limbo dance was over Scott stood up, in­viting Jane to dance. She caught the amused glance of her brother and also Hal's swift frown as she slipped into the arms of her employer.

  'You appear to have forgotten my order,' he said crisply once they were away from the table, and occu­pying part of the space on which the floor show had been performed.

  'Order?' she flashed.

  'I told you to act in a more seemly manner where Hal Charlton was concerned.'

  'And what have I done?' she demanded curtly.

  'You were sitting with him at a table for two. And until you saw me you had your heads practically touching—like lovers.'

  Jane felt his fingers on her back; they dug in like rods of iron.

  'That's not true,' she denied with reserve and dig­nity. 'We were chatting, and as there was noise going on all around we had to be close.'

  'You're supposed to be married! If any man should have been sitting with you it should have been Les.'

  'He was busy.'

  'You said you liked this fellow Hal Charlton. Was that the truth?'

  She paused, but fleetingly.

  'Yes, it was.' If he could be convinced, she thought, it would put an end once and for all to his amorous approaches.

  'I see.' The two small words were bitten out and the blue eyes were cold and hard as steel. 'You don't care that he has a reputation?'

  'Most men have,' she shrugged, and added as the thought occurred to her, 'You yourself have said more than once that it doesn't matter any more. People don't have ideals.'

  'But you do—or so you told me,' he reminded her tersely.

  'I'm not saying I'll go as far as marrying Hal,' she said, and again felt the hard fingers press into her back.

  'You can't—as things are,' he reminded her tautly.

  'No…' Should she inform him that he could expect a confession from her brother very soon? It would be enjoyable to watch his reaction, to remind him—just in case the fact had not occurred to him—that he would no longer be in a position to impose his will upon her, since his hold over her would be removed. However, the confession being entirely Les's affair, Jane held her tongue, but she did say, veering the subject a little, 'If you're thinking of anything so authoritative as for­bidding me to see Hal, then I wouldn't if I were you. I'm becoming a little tired of being ordered about.'

  His brows lifted, not with arrogance but surprise, although Jane suspected this was assumed.

  'You amaze me,' he mocked. 'Obviously some change has taken place. I seem to remember—'

  'Oh, please!' she snapped irritably. 'Forget all that nonsense—'

  'So it was nonsense,' he cut in swiftly, a curious ex­pression in his eyes. 'You admit it—after all this time?'

  'I don't want to be domineered and ordered about—no woman in her right mind does!'

  'All right, all right,' soothingly as, with a hand be­neath her elbow, he guided her away from the noisy throng, towards the pale golden shore. 'There's no need to go into hysterics over it.'

  'I'm not in hysterics!'

  'You'll not deny you're in a foul temper, though?' His mocking glance changed to one of amusement. 'You're an over-emotional girl, Jane. Whoever takes you on for a wife is in for the very devil of a time… unless,' he added with a sort of dry humour, 'he has the sense to beat you right at the start.' He laughed at her anger and infuriated her even more by patting one bright red cheek. 'I should have done, I'm thinking—once I'd discovered this side of your nature.'

  She could have said no, he wouldn't, as at that time his only aim was to pander and please. But of course she remained silent, not only because she had no wish to pursue a topic which was embarrassing for her but also because she was now not at all sure that he was any less without strength of character four years ago than he was now. Les had maintained that Scott had loved her so much that he had let her have all her own way, and this Jane was very much inclined to accept.

  Scott was walking on, making her go with him as his hand was kept under her elbow. The night was magical, the tropical moon high and bright, like polished silver; and the stars, lustrous and scintillating, streaked across the deep midnight blue of the Caribbean sky. Music and perfume floated through the soft warm air.

  The atmosphere was suddenly overpowering, the man by her side projecting his personality without con­scious effort, or even knowledge. Jane felt as if she were to be caught in a web woven by all the magical threads of nature but held invitingly open by the man at her side.

  'I want to go back,' she said impulsively just as Scott decided to halt under the very same coconut palm where their first meeting in Barbados had taken place. 'Take—take me back!'

  He stared, then laughed, deriving amusement from the fear in her eyes.

  'Rather a belated request, isn't it?'

  'I—wasn't looking wh-where we were going.'

  'Not a soul anywhere… just you and me and the sea and sky. It might be a desert island…' And before she could twist away in anticipation of what he in­tended she was caught to him and kissed with a passion so intense that she actually felt her senses leaving her. Never in the old days had he displayed ardour such as this. So gentle he had been, so afraid of hurting her, either mentally or physically. But not so now; his arms were hawsers, merciless, unyielding, his lips ruthlessly demanding, cruel in their possessiveness. After an eter­nity Scott held her from him, his eyes smouldering embers of desire, his voice vibrant and throaty. 'Thank your lucky stars we're not alone on a desert island, for if we were then all those ideals of yours would be lost—' he stopped and a low laugh escaped him '—along with your virtue, my lovely, desirable Jane!'

  CHAPTER TEN

  Utterly drained and with her heart beating over­rate, Jane managed to break away from the hands holding her.

  'Don't run!' Scott caught her up in a second. 'You're going to look foolish, racing back like that.'

  'And what are you going to look like?' she quivered, more shaken by her own emotions than by the effect of his.

  'I should just leave you,' he replied smoothly, and she did wonder how he could have recovered his com­posure so swiftly. 'You'd go back on your own—and everyone would look askance, wondering what had got into you.'

  'You're detestable! I shall be very glad when I'm free to go home, as I shall be soon—' Too late she broke off; her wrist was caught and she was swung round and brought roughly to a standstill.

  'What did you say?' Soft tones but menacing. Jane felt as afraid of him in this mood as she had been a few minutes earlier. What a lot she had learned about Scott since coming to Barbados—Scott, the 'spineless jellyfish' that she had branded him. She could have laughed at the memory of her own derogatory opinion of him.

  'It was nothing—'

  'What did you say?' he broke in to
repeat in the same dangerously quiet tone.

  She was on the verge of tears, and blinked rapidly as she looked up into his inscrutable countenance.

  'You'll know soon enough—' Jane broke off and ut­tered a little cry of protest as, losing his patience, Scott gave her a shake.

  'Now,' he said between his teeth, 'will you expand on what you were about to say?'

  Defeated, she told him that Les was soon to make a full confession.

  'He's fallen in love with Gwen, you see,' she added, a catch in her voice caused partly by suppressed tears and partly by her inner trembling as a result of the shaking he had given her.

  'He wants to marry her?' he asked, for the moment diverted from the main issue.

  'Yes, I expect so.'

  'I see…' He became thoughtful; Jane wondered if he were realizing that his hold over her was about to be severed, and that from then on he would no longer be in a position to order her about. He would of course still be her employer—for as long as she decided to remain with him—but he would certainly not be able to treat her as he had treated her this evening. 'Has he considered just how difficult it's going to be for him to face everyone?'

  'No, I don't believe he has.' She herself had not dwelt much on this aspect of the situation. Les had made a few friends on the island and it was going to be extremely awkward to confess to them that Jane was his sister and not his wife.

  'He does know that I might sack him?'

  Her heart contracted.

  'He's prepared for this, I suppose, but we had begun to assume that your satisfaction with the way the hotel were being run—' She stopped, arrested by the widen­ing of his eyes as an expression of inquiry replaced the previous unreadable quality in his gaze. 'I've done it again,' she added absurdly at length.

  'Apparently you have. I'm extremely interested to know more. Your mention of hotels in the plural signifies that your friends, the Shores, are fairly confident I'll condone the deception?'

  Reluctantly she admitted that this was so.

  'We naturally talked about it one day,' she added, and as he appeared ready to lose his temper she de­cided to tell him all that had been said.

  'So because I consider an employee of mine to be efficient I must overlook anything so serious as the deceit that's been practised,' he said grimly at last. 'Their confidence amazes me! I've a good mind to clear the whole lot of you out!'

  'No—please don't,' she begged, on the point of tears. 'The Shores acted in all good faith when they recom­mended Les for the post. They believed him to be almost engaged to Carolyn—that was the girl he'd been keeping company with for some months.'

  Scott was silent for a space after she had finished speaking. His mouth was set and his eyes implacable. Her heart sank as she visualized David and Susan losing their jobs because of what they had done for Les.

  At last Scott spoke, to say he would have to think more about the whole matter, and perhaps discuss it with one or two other directors of the firm.

  'Need you?' she cried. 'They won't find any extenu­ating circumstances at all.'

  'What makes you think I shall?' he countered, look­ing coolly at her.

  'You've seen what David and Susan—the Shores—have done. You must admit you've been very pleased with the way they've run the hotel?'

  'I pay for efficiency,' he said abruptly. 'Therefore I expect it. The way you talk I should be grateful to the Shores!'

  Swiftly she shook her head.

  'No, I didn't mean it like that—' She stopped and shrugged helplessly. 'You're not in the mood to under­stand,' she added flatly at length.

  'You're quite right; I'm not.' He looked at her in silence for a moment. 'What are your own plans?'

  So the fact had hit him that she would soon be out of his power. Strangely, and for some quite incom­prehensible reason, this failed to afford her the satisfac­tion she had expected.

  'I thought of going home,' she told him quietly.

  A deep ineffable hush fell, broken only by the gentle lapping of the sea on the curving shoreline.

  'So you'd let me down?' he said at last in a very quiet tone.

  'You would soon get someone to take my place.' Already she wished she had not said what she had. The thought of leaving and never seeing Scott again created a bleak picture indeed.

  'You'd also leave Hal, whom you say you're fond of?' His eyes fixed hers now and she averted her head.

  'The friendship hasn't ripened into anything that can't be broken,' she murmured.

  'So you lied when you told me you cared for him?'

  'I said liked. No, I didn't lie,' she was quick to add, feeling that unless she used Hal she would surely give away her love for Scott.

  'So you're determined to leave Barbados?'

  She hesitated, then common sense intervened to remind her that to remain must bring further heart­ache—nothing more. True, she had at one point fell to wondering if she had a chance with Scott, and Les most certainly seemed convinced that she had. But if Scott wanted her for his wife he had only to say so; it was as simple as that. No, all he wanted was for her to be another Alma—a woman to have fun with, and then cast aside when a new and more attractive face caught his attention.

  'Yes,' she managed at last. 'I'm determined to leave the island.'

  'I see,' tautly and with a most formidable light in his eyes. 'Then there's nothing more to say. Come, let's get back. Your boy-friend will be wondering where you've got to.'

  Les was troubled; he looked at his sister's shadowed face and said,

  'You really feel that he'll sack David and Susan?'

  'I can't say for sure,' she replied, frowning. 'I've told you everything that was said—or nearly everything. Scott was certainly angry about the whole deception—theirs as well as ours.'

  'I don't know why you had to let it out like that! It was my affair entirely.'

  'It came out by accident,' Jane said, repeating what she had already told him. She was having the greatest difficulty with her patience, for Les was being most unreasonable about her slip. 'You've no idea just how great the strain has been,' she added, but although he raised his eyebrows in inquiry she had no intention of elaborating. To inform Les that Scott had known of the deception right from the start would not only throw Les into confusion and embarrassment but would also result in his deep censure and condemnation of her conduct in not being frank with him about the matter. 'When do you propose telling him?' she asked, and he hesitated, frowning heavily.

  'It'll have to be soon, now that you've already spilled the beans,' he replied caustically. 'It can't possibly be postponed.'

  'You'd have postponed it, if you could?'

  He shrugged and said he really didn't know. On thinking about the Shores' position he had in fact felt he must consult them first, and see what they thought about it.

  'Of course,' he added, 'I fully intended to tell Gwen the truth, whether I'd decided to postpone telling Scott or not.

  Jane left him a few moments later and went to bed. Les had not mentioned anything about his own sus­picion that Scott still cared for her, but then he had been fully absorbed by the unwelcome news she had given him.

  It was to prove to be another restless night for Jane, and naturally this registered when she arrived at Drift­wood House the following morning with dark smudges under her eyes and a pallor in her cheeks. Appearing cool and composed as usual, Scott looked her over for a few seconds before saying,

  'You haven't slept, obviously. I hope your con­centration isn't going to suffer.'

  He sounded heartless, she thought, blinking rapidly.

  'I shall do my work with my customary efficiency,' she told him in a tight little voice.

  'I'm relieved to hear it. There's a great deal to be done.'

  And he worked her harder than ever before. But aside from the almost harsh exterior he exhibited towards her Jane sensed a sort of flatness about him that was totally out of character. He seemed to be fighting some depression of spirits
and surging into her mind was the recollection that she had formerly gained the impression that he was a lonely man despite his work and the 'pleasures' to which he had so cynically referred. What had happened to Alma? Jane won­dered. Had she finished with Scott?—or had he finished with her?

  Jane was musing on these and other questions when Scott's sharp voice brought her back to the fact that she was supposed to be taking a letter.

  'Pay attention! You haven't got that last sentence. Read out what you've put down there.'

  She swallowed the hard little lump in her throat and obeyed. Silence prevailed for one awful moment after she had finished.

  'I'm sorry—' she began. 'If—if you'll repeat—?'

  'What's the matter with you?' he demanded, glaring at her. 'What you have got down's all wrong!'

  She opened her mouth to voice another apology, then closed it again.

  Scott drew an exasperated breath, and started again. Jane went off, when she had taken the letter, and typed it out in her own room. She was just getting up with the intention of having it signed when, on glancing out of the window, she saw Scott walking in the garden. It seemed an aimless perambulation, his head being bent and his arms swinging loosely at his sides. Jane's heart contracted, but the next moment she was asking herself why she should be concerned about a man whose treat­ment of her had resulted in her decision to leave the island of which she had become so fond. It would be a terrible wrench, and it was Scott's fault alone. If he were dejected—and she was sure he was—then his dejection must have something to do with Alma. Perhaps after all he had felt something deeper than mere desire—although not for the life of her could Jane imagine him falling in love with the girl. She was both artificial and affected, and added to this she would never be faithful to Scott—or to any other man she might choose to marry.

 

‹ Prev