Season of Shadows

by Yvonne Whittal

  Aware that Anton was observing her closely, she made an effort to control herself, and said quickly, 'I think I'd like to go to my room.'

  'As you wish,' he nodded coolly. 'We have the weekend ahead of us to finalise our plans.'

  If Laura had hoped to delay matters in some way, then she soon discovered that Anton had other plans. Within a matter of hours he had arranged, telephonically, for her to be released from her post as secretary to a firm of accountants and, through the Johannesburg branch of DeVere Enterprises, he found someone willing to take over the lease on her flat in Hillbrow. All that remained for Laura to do when she arrived in Johannesburg at the end of that week was to sell her furniture, settle her personal accounts, and pack her bags.

  This was all accomplished with frightening speed, and within less than a week she found herself flying back to Cape Town in Anton's private jet. The black limousine was at the airport to meet her, with Eddie, the bulky Coloured, at the wheel, but it was the child who leapt from the back of the car who caught and held Laura's attention. Sally ran swiftly across the space dividing them and into Laura's waiting arms.

  'I missed you!' she cried and laughed simultaneously. 'I'm so glad you're back at last.'

  'I missed you too,' Laura replied truthfully as she hugged the child close, but moments later she was glancing about her nervously.

  'Uncle Anton couldn't come,' Sally answered her unspoken question. 'He said he would see you at dinner this evening.'

  Irrational disappointment mingled with relief, but Laura thought no more about it and, indeed, she was not given the opportunity to dwell on the perturbing subject, for Sally was hardly silent for one moment during the drive from the airport to Bellavista.

  Laura was amazed at the speed with which Sally had overcome the shock of her parents' deaths, but then, of course, Sally had been accustomed to not seeing Robert and Elizabeth for lengthy periods of time, and this, Laura supposed, helped tremendously to heal the pain of the child's loss.

  Bellavista was bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, giving the house and the surrounding landscape that magical quality that nearly always succeeded in quickening her heart with appreciation. This was to be her home in future, and although she could not deny the pleasure this knowledge unwittingly aroused, there was another side to it that filled her with secret dread.

  Having to confront Anton at dinner that evening was an ordeal she was not looking forward to. She knew that he would wish to discuss the arrangements he had made with regard to their marriage, but to her it was a subject that did not bear thinking about. She delayed going down to dinner that evening for as long as possible, but when Sally marched into her room and announced, 'I'm hungry,' Laura had no option but to accompany her down the curved staircase with a sigh of resignation.

  They passed the entrance to the dining hall which was used only for large, formal dinners, and a few moments later they entered the small dining-room which was used more often when not entertaining scores of visitors as it was situated conveniently close to the kitchen.

  At their entrance Anton rose from his high-backed chair at the head of the table, and the wide breadth of his shoulders almost hid completely the heavy, gilt-framed portrait of one of his piratical ancestors who seemed to leer at Laura, with sinister intent, the moment they were seated.

  An involuntary shiver coursed its way along her spine and, glancing covertly at Anton, she noticed for the first time his extraordinary likeness to the man in the portrait. The grey eyes beneath the heavy dark brows possessed that same piercing quality, and the features had been chiselled, as if by the same hand, into harsh, unrelenting lines, but Laura was more concerned at that moment as to how many of his ancestor's devilish characteristics Anton had inherited.

  Anton poured wine from a crystal decanter into fragile, long-stemmed glasses while he made a few polite enquiries about her short stay in Johannesburg. She replied with an equal politeness, sipping at her wine to steady her nerves, and then the first course was served. An uncomfortable silence threatened, but Sally saved the situation by regaling them with an almost non-stop resume of the class outing that morning to the historical Castle. Her incessant chatter appeared to irritate Anton, and Laura supposed she should have silenced the child, but she was grateful for the diversion, and stubbornly remained silent, allowing Sally to continue.

  When coffee had been served, Anton was barely able to conceal his thunderous expression when he frowned down the length of the table at Sally. 'Isn't it time you went upstairs to bed?'

  Sally wiped the traces of milk from her mouth with the back of her hand, which further annoyed him, then her dark gaze went from Anton to Laura and back again as she remarked with astonishing shrewdness, 'I suppose you want to be alone.'

  'You suppose correctly,' Anton replied, his expression forbidding any argument the child might have wished to enter into.

  'Oh, well,' Sally shrugged reluctantly as she got up from the table, and, pouting a little sulkily, she said 'Goodnight' and went upstairs.

  'Shall we go through to my study?' Anton suggested the moment they were alone. 'We shan't be disturbed there.'

  In the book-lined study with its solid oak desk, leather chairs, and rugged stone fireplace, Laura felt as restless and uneasy as a hare with the hounds on its tail.

  'What I have to say won't take long,' Anton assured her as he seated himself behind the desk and motioned her into a chair. 'We'll be married here tomorrow afternoon at three with Graham and his wife, Gina, as witnesses. They've also offered to take care of Sally while we spend the weekend at my Gordon's Bay cottage. We'll leave immediately after the ceremony, so have a suitcase packed and ready.'

  'Do we have to go away?' Laura asked with difficulty, staring fixedly at the zebra-skin rug beneath her feet.

  'It would look odd if we didn't.'

  Her fingers curled nervously into the padded armrests of the chair. 'Anton, I…'

  Her throat dried up with fear. She tried again, but no sound came, and he interpreted her hesitation incorrectly.

  'You want to change your mind?' he questioned her coldly. 'They say it's a woman's prerogative, but I call it fanciful unreliability. No woman can be trusted, or relied upon to keep her word.'

  His cynicism moved her to an anger which loosened her tongue, and, rising jerkily to her feet, she said stiffly, 'It wasn't my intention to back out of our arrangement.'

  He followed her example and rose to his feet, his height placing her at a distinct disadvantage once again as he asked, 'Wasn't it?'

  'No, it was not!' she argued hotly.

  'Then let me guess,' he mocked her derisively. 'Like most women, you have expensive tastes, and you're disappointed at not having a white wedding with a lavish reception as you may have visualised. Is that it?'

  'No!' she insisted sharply, but when she saw no glimmer of understanding in his coldly cynical glance, she turned away exasperatedly. 'Oh, you wouldn't understand!'

  There was a tense little silence, then she felt him coming up behind her. 'Explain yourself.'

  For a moment she could not speak as his nearness set every nerve in her body vibrating inexplicably, then she said dully, 'I—I think every girl dreams secretly of her wedding day. I imagined I would one day marry someone who would care for me as much as I cared for him, but instead I find myself marrying for coldbloodedly calculated reasons.' She shuddered inwardly. 'It all seems so wrong!' His hands were on her shoulders, firm, strong, and relentless as he turned her to face him, but she could not raise her eyes higher than the knot in his grey tie.

  'Our reasons for marrying each other may be calculated, but there's no reason for it to be coldblooded.' His arm was about her waist, a steel band imprisoning her against the hard length of his body and, startled by the unexpected swiftness of his actions, she stood helpless as he raised her face with his free hand and kissed her hard on the mouth. Resentment flared within her, but Anton seemed to anticipate her struggles, for his hand shifted its po
sition to the nape of her neck, while his arm about her waist merely tightened like a vice. Her body grew taut with resistance, but he was obviously a man of experience, for he finally drew a response from her that left her trembling and breathless when she was at last released. 'See what I mean?' he smiled down at her mockingly.

  Flushed and ashamed of the emotions he had aroused in her, she asked coldly, 'May I go now, or was there something else you wanted to discuss with me?' He inclined his head slightly. 'You may go.' . She felt his eyes boring into her back as she walked towards the door, and the hard, frantic beat of her heart did not subside until a few seconds later when she was crossing the hall towards the stairs.

  The door between her bedroom and Sally's stood open, and when Laura approached it, the bedside light in Sally's room was snapped on.

  'You should have been asleep ages ago,' Laura rebuked her gently, going into the room and seating herself on the bed beside the child.

  'I'm too excited,' Sally announced, sitting up and hugging her knees.

  'Excited?' Laura frowned.

  'About tomorrow,' Sally explained, surprising Laura with her knowledge of the arrangements Anton had made. Those dark eyes glowed into Laura's as she asked, 'Aren't you excited, too?'

  'Oh, Sally—' she began, but she felt so ridiculously close to tears that she choked back the rest of her sentence. 'What's the matter?' Sally wanted to know, the happy light in her eyes faltering.

  Laura swallowed convulsively. 'Nothing—nothing at all.'

  'You looked as though you were going to cry,' Sally insisted suspiciously.

  Laura laughed shakily. 'I think I'm a little tired.'

  'And frightened,' she could have added, but Sally would not have understood why anyone should feel afraid on the eve of their wedding.

  'I think when I get married one day I'll be so excited that I won't be able to sleep a wink the night before,' Sally announced, happily quite unaware that Laura was thinking similar thoughts. She would not sleep a wink that night, but her sleeplessness would be as a result of fear, not excitement.

  'Your wedding day is still a long way off, darling, and I pray that—'

  'That what?' Sally prompted when Laura caught herself up in the act of saying that she hoped Sally would one day marry for love, and not out of duty.

  'That you enjoy your carefree childhood while it lasts,' Laura substituted hastily, lifting the sheets for Sally to slide under, and tucking her in carefully before she dropped a light kiss on her cheek. 'Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well.'

  She snapped off the light and returned to her own room, closing the interleading door so she would not disturb Sally while she bathed and prepared for bed.

  The night was long and dark, and filled with frightening visions of a future shared with a man who was almost a complete stranger to her; a man who neither knew nor cared one iota for her feelings. After tomorrow's ceremony she would be his to do with as he pleased, and the thought filled her with such dread that she almost cried out into the darkness. She had had a brief taste of his mastery that evening; a mastery which had, admittedly, stirred her emotions, but which had also succeeded in making her aware of that streak of cruelty in him which had frightened her so often during their brief meetings in the past. He would take, giving nothing in return, and that, she felt certain, would be the basis of their marriage.

  It was these disturbing thoughts that kept her awake until she could see the dawn sky through the lace at her window, then exhaustion claimed her, and she slept until Jemima woke her with a tray of breakfast shortly after eight.

  'This is a happy day for us all, Miss Laura,' Jemima announced, her starched white apron crackling as she approached the bed and placed the tray on Laura's knees. 'I speak for everyone when I say that we wish you and Mr Anton happiness.'

  'Thank you, Jemima,' Laura smiled, but, as the door closed behind the Coloured woman, she wondered what happiness she could expect from a marriage perpetrated for the sole purpose of providing a home for her young niece.

  The hours passed with alarming swiftness that morning. There was last-minute shopping to be done, and a wedding ring to select, and, through it all, Anton remained a remote, uncommunicative stranger in whose company she felt dreadfully ill at ease.

  That afternoon, with time to spare before she went downstairs, Laura stared at herself in the mirror and decided that she neither looked nor felt anything' remotely like a bride ought to on her wedding day. Her narrow-skirted dress with the lacy top was a rich, creamy colour instead of white, and, instead of joyous anticipation, there was fear and apprehension in the deep blue eyes that stared back at her.

  A sharp tap on her door made her jump nervously, and she turned to face the door warily as it was pushed open a fraction.

  'May I come in?' a bright, feminine voice enquired, and then, without waiting for a reply, a tall, attractive woman with dark, greying hair entered the room and closed the door firmly behind her. Her appraising glance took in Laura's confusion, and then she smiled with a warmth that melted some of the icy dread surrounding Laura's heart. 'We haven't met before,' she explained. 'I'm Georgina Abbot. My friends call me Gina, and my enemies dare to call me George.'

  She wrinkled her nose in comical distaste, and Laura laughed for the first time in days. 'I'm certain you haven't any enemies.'

  'You'd be surprised,' Gina remarked with a slight grimace, then she explained the reason for her presence in Laura's room. 'A girl shouldn't be alone at a time like this,' she stated emphatically, 'and while the men are indulging in those filthy cigars Graham always insists upon smoking, I thought that I would come up and keep you company.' There was a faint glimmer of uncertainty in the direct gaze of her green eyes as she asked, 'You don't mind, do you?'

  'I don't mind at all,' Laura assured her at once, grateful for the presence of someone to talk to, but then a more pressing thought came to mind. 'Do you know where Sally is?'

  'She's downstairs waiting anxiously to see you, but Anton has promised that she could come up and call you as soon as Mr Fuller has arrived.' Gina's critical glance took in Laura's appearance from her honey-brown hair, coiled in its usual knot at the nape of her neck, down to her cream and tan shoes. 'You look lovely, my dear,' she smiled warmly. 'Really lovely.'

  'Thank you,' Laura smiled back nervously.

  'Laura…' Gina hesitated, then a look of determination flashed across her otherwise serene face. 'Do you mind if I sit down?'

  'Please do,' Laura said hastily, drawing up a chair for Gina, and seating herself on the dressing-table stool.

  'Laura, I know why you're marrying Anton,' Gina said now without hesitation, ignoring Laura's faint gasp of surprised as she continued. 'It couldn't have been an easy decision to make, but I admire you for it.' She leaned forward in her chair with a hint of urgency in her manner. 'Anton may be a hard man in many ways, and often quite ruthless when necessary, but he's also a man of great integrity. If you find him cynical about many things, most especially women, then you must forgive him, my dear. He was hurt very badly once, and he's never quite regained his faith in women.'

  Laura stared at Gina for a moment, finding it difficult to believe that Anton DeVere had ever given his heart to a woman. She was only too aware that he possessed a virile masculinity and a sensuality of movement that would attract most women, and, according to the newspapers, there had been many women in his life, but none of them had remained long enough over the years for Laura to recall their names, let alone their appearances. Which one of those beauties, she wondered cynically, had succeeded in penetrating deep enough beneath that hard veneer to hurt him so badly?

  'Why are you telling me this?' Laura asked curiously.

  'Well… firstly, because I happen to be fond of Anton, and I'd like to see this marriage succeed. Secondly, because the success of this marriage will depend largely on your patience and understanding, and thirdly,' she smiled humorously, 'because I think I'm going to enjoy having you as a friend and neighbour.'


  A knock on the door ended their conversation abruptly, and an anxious little voice cried out, 'Aunty Laura, are you there?'

  'Come in, Sally.'

  The door was flung open and Sally almost stumbled into the room in her excitement, the pink, frilly dress enhancing the darkness of her eyes, and the sheen of- her almost black hair hanging in two neat plaits down her back.

  'Oh, you look beautiful!' she sighed, her eager glance taking in Laura's appearance, and then, remembering the purpose of her errand, she said excitedly, 'Uncle Anton says you may come down whenever you're ready. Mr Fuller has arrived and he's waiting downstairs.'

  Laura nodded, her throat suddenly too dry to speak.

  'We'll be down in a minute,' Gina intervened hurriedly, ushering the child from the room and returning swiftly to Laura's side.

  'Gina!' Laura cried out her name in a moment of panic, gripping the hands extended towards her as if they offered safety from a danger as yet unknown.

  'Courage, Laura, courage,' Gina whispered softly, her fingers tightening about Laura's, then she turned towards the door. 'Come down as soon as you're ready.'

  Courage. She had never lacked courage before, Laura thought as the door closed behind Gina's slim, elegant figure in the blue and white suit. She had never before lacked the courage to face up to her convictions, but at this precise moment she felt the cowardly desire to run, and never to stop running until she was safe somewhere where Anton would never find her. This was the supreme test of her courage, she realised, and taking a deep, steadying breath, she cast a final critical glance at herself in the mirror before leaving her room and going downstairs.

  In the living-room the Reverend Mr Fuller, Anton, and Graham and Gina Abbot awaited her arrival, and they turned to face her when she entered. 'Oh, God, what am I doing here?' she thought in a moment of blind panic as she paused just inside the doorway, and then she saw Sally, her eyes bright with excitement in her glowing, happy face. She had to go through with it for Sally's sake, she realised grimly, and she could only pray that she would find the courage to face what lay before her.