Perilous Refuge

by Patricia Wilson

  He glanced up keenly at Ross. 'I hope this child knows what she's letting herself in for. She realises, I hope, that you'll one day be head of a multi-million-dollar company? A cottage in the country is no possibility for you.'

  'She knows all the drawbacks,' Ross replied sardonically. 'It's no use trying to put her off. We're engaged, it's official and we'll be married two days from now.' 'I'm not trying to put her off,' Tom Maclean murmured just as sardonically. 'I can safely leave that to Dee.'

  It was clear that her future mother-in-law was not about to step forward. She looked utterly out of place in this old inn. The low beams were blackened and gleaming with age, a great fire roared against the cold outside, a Christmas tree glittered in the comer and the whole building had an old-world elegance, in spite of the predictability of the food.

  Deirdre Maclean had a glitter of her own, diamonds and spite, Helen decided. She was beautiful, middle-aged, perfectly groomed and made up. In a slim-fitting suit of dark red, a mink coat draped carelessly around her shoulders, she looked outraged at her surroundings and equally outraged at her son's fiancée.

  Suddenly Helen was very glad of the heavy diamond ring on her finger, a ring that until now she had felt quite of place and rather frightening. Deirdre Maclean resented her and she needed all the security she could get.

  A warm strong arm came round her shoulders and Ross urged her forward.

  'We might as well get it over with,' he murmured drily. 'She's chosen her stance, right beside the Christmas tree and away from the nasty revealing lights.'

  Helen shot a look at Tom Maclean as Ross uttered these derisive words but he was still standing there, his arrogant amusement apparent in the cold blue eyes. 'This is Deirdre,' Ross announced, his lips twisting ironically. 'Hold your hand out nicely, Helen. There's a chance she'll shake it.'

  'I'm your mother, Ross!' Dee Maclean snapped, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

  'You surprise me. I can't really believe that. Any mother of mine would be happy to meet my fiancée.'

  'I am happy to meet her. Really, Ross, you're impossible.' She leaned forward and pecked at Helen's cheek, leaving behind a trail of exclusive perfume, and Ross gave a snort of laughter before turning to the other member of the party.

  'What brings you to this cold little place, Donna?' he enquired with the same taunting edge to his voice.

  His tone brought an angry blush to the cheeks of the girl who had stood steadfastly beside his mother. 'Maybe I came to take one last look at you.'

  'Donna Street

  , Helen,' Ross introduced. 'An old friend of the family.'

  'An old friend of Ross,' the girl corrected, her eyes still not leaving his darkly handsome face.

  So this was the girl they had wanted him to marry?

  She was beautiful, blonde and exotic, clearly a product of the same wealthy background. The eyes that flickered over Helen's were almost black, filled with anger and distress. They lingered on Helen's ring and then moved with cold deliberation all over Helen's clothes.

  'She looks scared, darling. I thought you were holding her upright.' The voice was riled with very sweet spite, and Ross tightened his arm around Helen's shoulders.

  'I'm just holding on to her firmly. It occurred to me that after one look at this family gathering she might just walk out. In England we keep our displeasure tastefully hidden.'

  'You're American! You don't belong here!' Donna snapped, her sweet amusement suddenly deserting her. 'And to think I never noticed,' he mocked. 'Have you ordered?' he added, glancing at his father.

  'No. I thought we'd wait for you.'

  'Then let's order now,' Ross suggested, signalling to a waiter who hovered in the background. 'There's a restaurant here. With any luck, there may be some left-over quiche.' he murmured to Helen.

  She was too tightened up to be amused. It was not normal to be disliked so much but she could see the reason for it. Donna was a protégée of Deirdre Maclean, the girl she had chosen as suitable for Ross, and Donna was obviously in love with him, hurt and furious to meet his English fiancée. What Tom Maclean thought was impossible to decide. Like Ross he was cool, enigmatic and powerful. Any displeasure he felt would be worked off in action, not words. She realised that she had not said one single word as yet.

  'Do you live in this little village, Helen?' Deirdre Maclean asked politely as they sat down to eat. Her attitude suggested that she expected as much and looked upon it with despair.

  'No. Two villages away, as a matter of fact.' Helen had made up her mind that she was not about to be browbeaten, and she saw a quick smile flit across Ross's lips as he heard her tone of voice.

  'Does she know what being a Maclean means?'

  'Ask her,' Ross suggested in amusement. 'She speaks English.'

  'You were his secretary,' Deirdre pointed out almost accusingly.

  'Well, that's why I'm marrying her,' Ross assured his mother. 'A good secretary knows all your secrets. Dad can vouch for that.' .

  Helen expected an angry retort but Tom Maclean's face was filled with wry amusement. Evidently he was used to these skirmishes. Helen wasn't and it was beginning to annoy her. She set her lips firmly and ate her meal.

  'We should have brought our own family along, Helen,' Ross said with elaborate regret. 'We're outnumbered here.'

  'You have a family, Helen? I was sure that Ross had said your parents were no longer alive.' Deirdre Maclean was instantly alert, ready to snoop, and Helen took a long, firm breath.

  'I have a small family. My sister and my daughter.' The announcement fell into a pool of silence. It seemed to ricochet from one to the other. Donna's eyes were fastened on Ross with sheer disbelief and Deirdre froze. 'You have a child!' Deirdre Maclean stared at Ross as if he were certifiable and he raised cool dark brows.

  'Tansy is three. A quick calculation will tell you that she's not mine, yet. She's going to be, though. If I play my cards right she'll let me have her cast-off teddy-bear pyjamas.'

  All at once Tom Maclean started to laugh. He had a loud laugh, unexpectedly pleasing, and his eyes were no longer cold as he looked at Helen.

  'A ready-made granddaughter. Is she going to be at this wedding, then? I'd like to see her. I always wanted a daughter but Dee's figure was too important. What's your sister like?' He looked at Helen with a new-found interest. 'Is she a beauty, too?'

  'She is,' Ross assured him. 'It runs in the family.

  Watch out for Tina, though, she doesn't have Helen's gentle ways. She'll eat you for breakfast and never notice it. Back off there.'

  'I can hardly wait.' Tom Maclean chortled. 'I guess I'm looking forward to this wedding after all.'

  'Returning to your roots?' Ross asked slyly. 'It's running through my mind.'

  'You'll never leave America!' Deirdre said hotly, her outraged eyes moving from Helen to her husband.

  'We'll see.' The way he said it reminded Helen of Ross, coldly taunting, sure of himself. 'I guess I'm going to have grandchildren, one adopted and plenty real, and I'll want to see them. I reckon Helen is a bit too English to settle in the States.'

  'Then it's going to be an odd marriage,' Donna Street

  put in triumphantly, smiling across knowingly. 'Maybe she should think again? Maclean International is in New York. Ross will have to be there.'

  'He won't,' Tom Maclean informed her shortly. 'I'm there. Ross is working to a plan. Europe's about to boom and we're pushing hard to get right in. Time's coming when I'll want to come home. I'm building up this end.'

  'And what do I do?' Deirdre forgot all about Helen, an unhappy anger on her face.

  'Why, honey, you'll adjust,' her husband told her with that sort of cool, indifferent assurance that informed Helen he would not step aside from any plans. She also knew that all was not well in this family. Ross was happier with her own little family, probably because they were so close-knit, and the thought warmed her as she would never have imagined. Was he lonely? Did he really need this marriage far more tha
n he had admitted? She glanced across at him and he was watching her. Their eyes met and held and for a moment she thought she read something there of a deep unhappiness. It was fleeting, probably imagined, but it made him human, understandable, and for the first time ever she smiled into his eyes.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The wedding was three days before Christmas Eve, a civil ceremony after all, and Helen's nerve held out only because Tina was so enthusiastic. Standing beside Ross, in a deep blue suit that deepened the blue of her eyes, a spray of orchids pinned across the lapels, she felt the need to run, to escape while she could, but although the thought of Miles and his threats kept her standing and answering, making her promises, she had the certain feeling that Ross knew.

  He was more than usually silent, a silent domination that was almost menacing, and only when the ceremony was over and they were speeding to the reception in his car did he in any way relax.

  'Hungry?' He glanced partly over his shoulder at Tina and Tansy on the back seat, and Tansy nodded vigorously. She had been quiet and rather overawed at the event itself, not understanding anything but feeling the tension as surely as a child picked up unusual vibes. Now she was unwilling to speak at all.

  'She's only dumbstruck,' Tina observed as Helen glanced round a little anxiously. 'You've got to admit, chief, it was an event.'

  It had been an event. Deirdre Maclean had bristled with hostility, her duties as a witness performed grudgingly and very stiffly. Tom Maclean had seemed to delight in both the event and his wife's discomfiture, and Tina had witnessed it all from her seat at the back of the room with Tansy on her knee.

  Donna Street

  had come too, her eyes disparaging and icy as Ross made his vows, her silence as telling as any announcement. She had barely responded to Tina's greeting and Tansy had openly cringed at her hostility.

  'Your foot is well on the way to your mouth,' Helen warned quickly, not looking at Ross.

  'Keep it moving in that direction,' Ross suggested wryly. 'Maybe we should have had a big wedding with plenty of guests to drown out the acid looks.'

  'Who cares?' Tina asked blithely, her normal attitude to life restored under the protective canopy of Ross and his power. 'You're married. It's wonderful. Let them all come. We'll take them on!'

  Ross began to laugh softly, flashing Tina a look of approval through the rear-view mirror. 'I like to hear fighting talk. Will you "take them on"?' he added softly, for Helen's ears alone.

  'I don't think they're going to concern me,' she said quietly. 'I long ago learned to ignore what I don't like.'

  She felt him stiffen by her side and wished back her thoughtless words. She needed Ross. They all did, but it was useless to pretend that this was an ordinary marriage and that her mother-in-law had upset her. She had been too filled with doubts and worried to really contemplate Deirdre Maclean's antagonism.

  'Yes. Out of one safe nest into another,' Ross murmured coolly. 'Well, it's legal now, Helen. And final,' he added under his breath.

  She heard him, though, and it occurred to her that he was not quite as happy about the arrangement as he had appeared to be. Perhaps seeing Donna again had unsettled him. It brought her out of her own attitude, a shiver of unease washing over her. How would she cope with this marriage? What sort of life had Ross planned for himself? She had thought only of her own problems, of safety for Tansy. Would he really be content to settle for that?

  Having met his parents she had doubts about his words. Tom Maclean might be a determined and powerful man but he had indicated that his plans had been made with Ross. If anyone was pushing for their own way it was Deirdre, and she had no hold on Ross whatsoever as far as Helen could tell. She glanced at him anxiously but all she saw was a hard, handsome profile, cold grey eyes fixed on the road.

  They were driving to a small reception in a restaurant quite a few miles from town, and the others had gone on ahead. What were they thinking? Were they as completely taken in by this as Tina? Today she moved into her new home. By tomorrow evening all her own things would be there, arranged as she and Tina had planned. The door on the past was closed, Miles shut out, but her safety brought with it worries she had long lost. 'She would have to share her life with Ross and it alarmed her.

  The 'quiet' reception was a crowded affair, the private room full to overflowing as they walked in, and Donna drifted forward to smile up at Ross with a look of triumph.

  'Surprise, darling!' she greeted. 'It seemed such a lonely little meal to have planned, just the seven of us. I got in touch with a few of our friends after lunch the other day. I knew you'd want to introduce Helen and your ready-made family.'

  'You're so thoughtful.' Ross glanced round the room.

  It seemed to Helen that there were at least forty people there and she felt Tansy clutch at her skirt. There was no need to have Donna's action explained. She was showing Ross how foolish he was, how he was tying himself down. He turned to Tansy but Helen got there first, picking her up and holding her close.

  'Go and meet your friends,' she advised Ross with a cool smile. 'I'll give Tansy all the moral support she needs.'

  'I know who my friends are.' His lips were tight and annoyed, his eyes telling her that he had not missed the way she had cut him out. He reached out and deliberately took Tansy into his arms, turning to Tina. 'Come along, sister-in-law. We'll come back for the bride in a minute.'

  It gave Donna the chance she was looking for. 'Did I do the wrong thing?' she asked archly as Ross pushed his way into the laughing crowd. 'I thought he would like to see his buddies. Quite a few of us are in London.'

  'Really? I thought you flew in with his parents?' 'Oh, this time I did, but I'll stay, of course. I'm never far away from Ross. We're too entwined to be separated for long.'

  'Of course,' Helen said coolly. 'An old family friend. I know just what you mean. It must be a comfort for him. I can see how much he's enjoying it.'

  She couldn't help a little smile. Ross looked on the edge of murder, his face darkening when he looked up and saw her in close conversation with Donna. He came back quickly, handing Tansy over and pulling Helen to the laden tables.

  'I don't know about the bride,' he growled, 'but the bridegroom's hungry.'

  'You always were insatiable, Ross.'

  Donna's comment brought a wry smile to his face. 'But then, we know each other so well, don't we?' He took Helen's arm again and led her off, but she was not deceived at all even if she had been meant to be. There was more than friendship here. Donna Street

  had intended to marry Ross and she was not about to give up now. The small matter of his marriage to Helen was apparently dismissed as a minor hitch.

  Helen was glad to see the end of the reception. She had spoken to people she would never meet again, had smiled until her face was stiff, and Tansy was fretful, intimidated by the crowd. She couldn't seem to find Tina and was relieved finally to see her talking to Tom Maclean. She signalled discreetly. Ross had gone to fetch the car round to the front. It was time to go and she slipped into the comparative quiet of the foyer to wait, Tansy snuggled to her shoulder.

  'Why have you done this, Ross? You knew I'd come over to you as soon as you got settled in England. It wasn't all that much of a quarrel.'

  Helen stopped dead as she heard Donna's voice, a softly pleading tone in it that she had not heard before. They were standing by a small alcove set into the foyer and the gloom of a snowy afternoon made Helen almost invisible to them, completely invisible as they were intent solely on each other.

  'Our lives have been made up of a series of quarrels,' Ross pointed out sardonically. 'The last was just another along the way. It didn't influence me.'

  'It influenced you enough to rush into this marriage.' Donna's words trembled, close to tears. 'Just because you've been sleeping with her...'

  'Helen is as pure as driven snow,' Ross interrupted in obvious amusement.

  'You mean she's frigid? She looks it with that icily composed face, that i
mpossible "old maid" hairdo. She's so different from us, darling.'

  'She's got everything I want.' His voice was darkly quiet, still amused, and Helen heard Donna catch her breath.

  'A family! You devil! You're just like Tom. A family is a good shield, isn't it?'

  'You've got a wild imagination, Donna.'

  'Wild enough to know you'll want me around, and I'll be here, Ross. I'm not going away.' She flung her arms around his neck, pressing a long kiss against his lips, and Ross was laughing softly as he held her away.

  'I never imagined you would, honey. I know your every move. Do you think I didn't expect you?'

  Helen stepped slowly back into the crowded room.

  Tansy was sleeping against her and Helen clutched her tightly, clinging to what she had. Inside a pain had flowered, a pain she had never felt before in her life, jealousy twisting and turning. She had felt sick as Ross held Donna, physically ill. She looked round blindly for Tina, wanting to get away without Ross, knowing it was impossible. She had stepped from behind her wall of safety only to rediscover that it was frightening and painful outside.