Bitter Enchantment

by Yvonne Whittal

  'Yes, he would!' she muttered aloud, his chiselled, unrelenting features flashing before her tired eyes as she returned her cup to the saucer with a clatter and passed a weary hand across her brow. Men like Jason Kerr did not reach the heights of their profession by retreating sympathetically in the face of someone else's loss, and it was more than likely that not even the frailty of an old woman would deter him from the steps he intended taking.

  Burying her face in her hands, she leaned her elbows on the desk, and it was in this utterly dejected position that Adrian Louw found her some minutes later.

  'Have I chosen the wrong moment to pay you a visit?' he asked, putting his head around the study door and taking in the papers strewn across the large mahogany desk.

  'No, Adrian,' she assured him with a brief smile, remaining seated as he stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind him. 'I could do with a bit of company at the moment,' she added.

  'I would have come sooner, but I thought you might want to be left alone for a while,' he explained, seating himself on the corner of the desk where she had cleared a space for him.

  'That was very sweet and thoughtful of you, Adrian, and I do appreciate it.'

  'You look tired,' he remarked after a while, but the next instant he looked rueful. 'That's not very complimentary, I know, but I happen to be concerned about you,' he explained away his statement.

  Amusement curved Melanie's lips, but did not quite succeed in reaching her eyes. 'There's no need for you to be concerned.'

  His fingers tilted her chin upwards, forcing her to meet his hazel eyes. 'When are you going to get it into this pretty little head of yours that I love you?'

  'Please, Adrian, I don't—'

  'I know, I know,' he interrupted, releasing her with a pained expression on his boyish face. 'This isn't the right time for such a confession, and besides, you love me like a brother,' he took the words right out of her mouth. 'Why is it that every girl I meet thinks of me only in terms of a brother?' he asked of no one in particular.

  Melanie stared at him for a moment, taking in his leanness and the coppery tint in his hair. It was not the first time that he had mentioned his love for her, but, try as she would, she was unable to conjure up more than a deep fondness for Adrian. He was fun to be with, but she constantly shied away from the thought of a deeper relationship with him. She should perhaps have ended their friendship when she realised that he was becoming serious, but somehow she never had the heart to do so, and Adrian had continued proposing to her at regular intervals during the past six months.

  'One day there'll be a girl who'll think of you only as a husband, and that would be the right girl for you,' she said gently.

  'I don't agree with you, but now is not the time to argue about it,' he shrugged, glancing about him and changing the subject. 'What have you been doing?'

  'Sorting through my father's personal papers,' she told him with a sigh, her expression becoming guarded as she thought of something. 'Adrian, you're in finance, and perhaps you could clear up a few things for me.'

  'You know I'd be only too willing to help you in any way I possibly can,' he replied instantly, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke through the corner of his mouth. 'What's the problem?'

  'What happens if one wants to make a loan?' she asked without hesitation as she considered the possibility of making a loan elsewhere which would enable her to keep Greystone Manor while at the same time repaying her father's debt to Jason Kerr.

  'Are you asking this from a purely theoretical point of view, or…?'

  'Theoretical, of course,' she assured him hastily.

  'Well, then it depends on the size of the loan. If it's a small loan there are various organisations one could approach, but if it's a large loan…'

  'Let's say, for argument's sake, that it's a loan of… thirty thousand rand,' she interrupted cautiously. 'What happens then?'

  'Then you'll have to have someone, or something, to stand security for you.'

  'When you say "something", do you mean this house, for instance?' Melanie asked, the hopelessness of the situation becoming only too clear to her.

  'This house, yes, or any other possession which might cover the amount of the loan,' Adrian drove his point home.

  'And if one possesses nothing of value?' she persisted, averting her glance to avoid the question in Adrian's eyes.

  'Then one can forget about the loan.'

  'I see…'

  While fidgeting with the pile of papers in front of her, Melanie faced the glaring truth. There was nothing she could do to prevent Jason Kerr from selling Greystone Manor. Granted, the property was worth much more than the amount owing to Jason Kerr, and the remainder of the proceeds would at least enable them to set up a home elsewhere, but nothing would ever be able to take the place of the home she had loved since childhood.

  'Melanie, you're not in some kind of financial predicament, are you? I mean—' Adrian hesitated, biting his lip as she raised her cool glance to his, then he crushed his cigarette into the ashtray with an angry gesture and rose to his feet to pace the floor with his hands thrust deep into his pockets. 'Damn it, Melanie, I know your father has left things in a bit of a mess, but if it's money you need—'

  'Do you have thirty thousand rand?' she cut across his words with a hint of mockery in her voice.

  'No…' he shook his head, staring hard at her for a moment. 'But I could get it for you.'

  'With Greystone Manor as security?' she demanded, suppressing the desire to laugh a little hysterically.

  'Naturally,' Adrian replied firmly, his hazel eyes questioning her. 'You haven't answered me yet. Do you need that kind of money urgently?'

  'No,' she lied, unable to confide in him for some reason she could not explain even to herself.

  'Sure?' Adrian persisted, eyeing her a little doubtfully.

  'Of course I'm sure,' she insisted, directing his thoughts in a different direction by indicating the piles of papers on the desk. 'Give me a hand with these, will you?'

  For almost an hour they worked in comparative silence, sorting the papers into sizes and tying them together in neat bundles. With some sort of order restored to the study, Melanie went through to the kitchen to make them a cup of coffee.

  'You'll let me know if there's any way in which I can help you?' Adrian persisted, returning briefly to the subject they had discussed as Melanie walked with him through the hall to the front door some time later.

  'It's kind of you to say so, Adrian, but—'

  'No buts,' he instructed firmly, gripping her shoulders and turning her to face him. 'And that's an order.' She nodded reluctantly, murmuring her thanks moments before he kissed her lightly on the lips, and then he was gone, sprinting through the rain to where he had parked his old Chev in the driveway. As the lights swept through the gate she closed the door and locked it, depression folding about her like a cloak now that she was alone once more. There was nothing she could do to save Greystone Manor, a little voice kept telling her, but she refused to give up hope until she had gone through every scrap of paper in her father's study.

  As she had done every other night during the past few weeks, Melanie slept badly, and dawn found her seated in a chair beside the window, with deep shadows beneath her eyes as she stared out across the silent garden. The rain had ceased during the night, and the wind had died down, but the evidence of the torrential rain they had had over the past two days was clearly seen in the pools of water that refused to drain away into the saturated soil. This was most probably the last time the Reef would have rain before winter set in, and the cold, frosty nights would change the lawn from a succulent green to a drab brown.

  Glancing at the clock beside her bed, Melanie noticed with relief that it was after six. The night had passed slowly and relentlessly, and Greystone Manor would at last come alive to greet a new day, but there was no joy in the thought for Melanie as she tightened the belt of her dressing-gown and left her room, her slippers makin
g no sound on the carpeted floor as she walked down the passage to her grandmother's room.

  'How is she this morning?' Melanie asked, finding Sister Wilson drawing the curtains aside as she entered the room.

  'I'm very much better, thank you, child,' her grandmother replied from the shadows of the bed before Sister Wilson had time to do so.

  'Granny Bridget, you had me worried!' Melanie exclaimed, hurrying towards the bed and snapping on the bedside light in order to take a closer look at her grandmother, but the light brought her own features into sharp focus, accentuating the dark smudges beneath her eyes, and the hollows beneath cheekbones which were not normally so prominent.

  'You should get Dr Forbes to prescribe something for you as well,' Granny Bridget remarked shrewdly, gesturing with a thin hand that she should sit down on the side of the bed. 'You look as though you haven't shut an eye all night.'

  The truth of her statement brought a smile to Melanie's lips. There was seldom anything she could hide from this shrewd old woman, and the necessity to do so had never arisen till now.

  'I'll be all right now that I know you're going to be fine.'

  'Of course I'm going to be fine,' Bridget Ryan insisted, patting Melanie's hand. 'It isn't any use letting things get one down. Life has to go on, and we still have each other and Greystone Manor. Your fate I can't determine, my dear, but over my dead body will they take Greystone Manor from us.'

  Granny Bridget's statement was like a sword thrusting through Melanie's heart, and fear spread its icy fingers along her veins. It might well be over her grandmother's dead body that Jason Kerr sold Greystone Manor, she thought, and the responsibility weighed heavily on her weary shoulders.

  'Gran, why did Daddy start gambling on the stock market?' she asked despairingly, trying to understand the reasoning of the father she had loved and respected.

  'Who knows, child, what bug bites a man and induces him to gamble away what he's worked hard to preserve all his life. Perhaps it's the need for power which money can bring, or just plain greed. In your father's case, I wouldn't like to hazard a guess. He's not here to defend himself, poor boy,' the old woman's voice broke slightly and Melanie was instantly contrite.

  'I'm sorry, Gran,' she whispered, stroking the grey head and marvelling at the silkiness of the hair beneath her fingertips. 'I shouldn't have mentioned the subject.'

  'No, no,' Bridget Ryan insisted with a firmness in her voice once more. 'It's better to talk about the things that trouble us. It never pays to bottle it all up inside until we're fit to explode.'

  Melanie leaned forward and kissed her spontaneously on her wrinkled cheek. 'You're a darling, Granny Bridget, and I don't know what I would have done without you.'

  'I don't know what I would have done without you, my child. And you, Sister Wilson,' she added as the sister appeared at the other side of her bed to take her pulse. 'You've both been so good to me.'

  'No more talking now,' Sister Wilson brushed aside the compliment. 'You must rest, Mrs Ryan.'

  'And I must go and get dressed.' Melanie rose reluctantly. 'See you later, Gran.'

  Bathed and dressed in a pair of old slacks and sweater, Melanie made her way downstairs an hour later. A slice of toast and a cup of coffee was all she could manage for breakfast while her grandmother's statement kept revolving through her mind.

  'Over my dead body will they take Greystone Manor from us.'

  Over my dead body!

  Melanie moaned softly, burying her face in her hands. What was she going to do if she found nothing with which to prevent Jason Kerr from carrying out her father's instructions? Would he be lenient if circumstances were explained to him, or would he do what had to be done regardless of the consequences?

  To give up Greystone Manor would not be easy, but the fear of what it would do to her grandmother was far greater. She had to do something. She had to find a solution to the problem… but where?… and how? Somewhere among her father's papers there had to be something everyone had overlooked, and she could only pray that, if there was something, she would find it and find it soon!

  CHAPTER TWO

  The taxi drove off at speed and Melanie swallowed hard as she turned to stare up at the building before her. Somewhere inside that mass of concrete and steel Jason Kerr was awaiting her arrival, and she did not relish the idea of confronting him with the news of her fruitless search through her father's personal papers. Out of sheer desperation she had called on her father's lawyer the previous day, but their discussion had merely confirmed what she had already known. Greystone Manor would have to be sold in order to settle her father's debt, unless she could persuade Jason Kerr otherwise.

  Mechanised glass doors slid open silently at her approach and, after she had made an enquiry at the desk, the lift bore her up to Jason Kerr's private sanctum on the tenth floor at a nauseating speed. With a heart that drummed loudly against her ribs, Melanie walked across the carpeted floor towards the elderly but elegantly dressed woman seated at the desk behind the glass partition. She gave her name and, moments later, found herself ushered into Jason Kerr's large office. The man himself rose behind his desk at her entrance and, with his back to the window, she was alarmingly aware of his height and breadth as she approached him, her footsteps silenced by the thick pile beneath her feet. He gestured abruptly towards the straight-backed chair, and only then did she realise how shaky her legs were as she lowered herself into it and watched him seat himself once more in the padded swivel chair behind his desk.

  'I think it would be preferable if we don't waste time with preliminaries and get to the point,' he said abruptly, barely giving her time to compose herself. 'Have you managed to obtain the money elsewhere?'

  Melanie would have given anything in the world to have been able to place a cheque for the required amount into the hands of the austere-looking man seated across the desk from her, but she had to admit defeat. 'No, I'm afraid I haven't been able to find that amount elsewhere.'

  'Then you leave me no alternative but to do as your father instructed,' he informed her with cold deliberation, pushing back his chair as if the matter was settled, and Melanie knew that she could no longer delay her request for time.

  'Mr Kerr…' she began haltingly, mentally brushing aside the remnants of her pride. 'I love Greystone Manor and would hate to part with it, but for my grandmother's sake, more than mine, I must beg you not to sell our home. Not yet, anyway.'

  'I don't think I follow you, Miss Ryan.'

  His voice and his manner offered no encouragement, and she lowered her eyes hastily before the intensity of his gaze.

  'My grandmother is old, Mr Kerr, and she's not well. Greystone Manor has been her home since she married my grandfather, and she loves every nook and cranny of it. My father's death, and… everything prior to that has been a tremendous shock to her.' She swallowed nervously. 'If… if you sell Greystone Manor now, it… it would mean her certain death.'

  Jason Kerr looked slightly incredulous as he picked up his gold pen and twisted it about in his strong, well-shaped hands. 'Are you suggesting that I postpone the selling of your home?'

  'Yes, I am,' she replied, lowering her gaze once more as she added hastily, 'You're quite at liberty, of course, to add interest on to the amount owing to you.'

  For a time only the muted sounds of the traffic could be heard, then he dropped his pen on to the blotter and came round his desk towards her, making her aware of the superb cut of his dark suit as it clung to his broad shoulders and slim hips.

  'It seems to me you have given this matter a great deal of thought?'

  'I had no alternative but to give it a lot of thought,' she admitted, feeling incredibly small as this harsh-faced man towered over her. 'I know how strongly my grandmother feels about Greystone Manor. She hasn't been well lately, and I'm afraid of what another shock might do to her.'

  'So what it boils down to is this,' he began, his eyes glittering strangely. 'You want me to wait for an unlimited period… until a
fter your grandmother's death, to put it bluntly… before I sell Greystone Manor?'

  Hope fluttered faintly in her breast. 'Would you consider it?'

  'I might,' came his abrupt reply as he thrust his hands into his pockets and paced the floor with a restlessness she had somehow expected from someone who exuded such energy. 'I presume your grandmother is unaware of this transaction between your late father and myself?'

  'She must never know,' Melanie said simply, glancing down at her clenched hands and realising for the first time how tense she was. 'Mr Kerr, would you do as I ask? For an old woman's sake; an old woman whose life is coming swiftly to an end?'

  'If I do,' he said at length, ushering her out of the uncomfortable, straight-backed chair into a padded armchair which seemed to enfold her luxuriously, 'then I shall be entitled to some sort of compensation.'

  'Compensation?' she blinked up at him confusedly. 'I… don't think I understand.'

  'Don't you?'

  His hard mouth twisted derisively, but it was his eyes that gave her her answer in no uncertain terms as they slid slowly and deliberately down the length of her, leaving her with the sickening sensation that she had been stripped systematically of her neat beige suit down to her lace underwear. She had heard too much about him not to grasp his meaning at last, and she drew a deep breath, like someone coming up for air from the depths of the ocean.

  'Mr Kerr, you're not asking me to… to…?'

  'To become my mistress?' he filled in for her blandly, a hint of mockery in his glance as he observed her heightened colour. 'Would you?'

  'No!' she bit out the word. 'Never!'

  'I thought not,' Jason Kerr remarked calmly in the wake of her outburst, seating himself on the arm of the chair close to her and extending his cigarette case towards her. Melanie declined with a shake of her head, and he lit one for himself, blowing the smoke through his nostrils. 'No, Miss Ryan,' he continued at last. 'The compensation I'm seeking is marriage. Marry me, and your grandmother remains at Greystone Manor for as long as she lives.'