'I think he's old enough to take care of himself, don't you?' she remarked defiantly, but the ominous tightening of his jaw made her heart jerk with fear.
'There's not much love lost between my cousin and myself, as you must have gathered by now, but I wouldn't like to see him hurt.'
'What makes you think I want to hurt him?' she demanded incredulously.
'You're out looking for excitement, Sister Casey, and he's the only one around who's gullible enough to fall for your beguiling little ways.'
Jennifer was not quite sure whether to laugh or cry, but the question was resolved when anger took over, and she asked with chilling politeness, 'Have you quite finished?'
'Not quite,' Hunter smiled dangerously. 'I'd like to give you something to take along with you to Feather-stone.'
She received no warning as to his intentions, and she was totally defenceless when she found herself trapped between Hunter and the wall behind her. His hard mouth swooped down on to hers and drew an involuntary response from her even as his hands roamed insultingly over her taut body. She tried to push him away with her hands flat against his hard chest, but he was as immovable as a rock, and he did not stop until she trembled with something close to desire at the sensual pressure of his fingers through the fine silk at her breasts.
'It's a good thing you're wearing non-smudgeable lipstick, isn't it?' he laughed harshly when he released her.
'You're despicable!' she hissed up at him, trying desperately to control her pulse rate and to regain what little composure she still had left.
'Don't dawdle on your way down,' he mocked her ruthlessly. 'Stanley's becoming rather impatient in his desire to get his hands on your worthless body.'
He could not have inflicted more pain if he had struck her, and she recoiled from him, the blood draining slowly from her face to leave her deathly pale. She tried to speak, but couldn't, and she turned instead without a word to join Stanley on the verandah where he was waiting for her. For some obscure reason Hunter had reduced her to something cheap and dirty, and the experience had left her with the taste of bitterness in her mouth.
'I'm going now, Mrs Maynard,' she said to the woman seated in her favourite cane chair on the cool verandah.
'Enjoy yourself, my dear,' Alice smiled up at her, then her glance sharpened. 'You look rather pale, Jennifer. Is something wrong?'
'It must be the heat,' Jennifer brushed aside her query. 'I shan't be back till late this afternoon.'
'Aunt Alice was right,' Stanley remarked, observing her closely when she sat beside him in his car. 'You do look quite pale.'
'I'll be all right in a minute,' she insisted, wishing he would start the car and drive away from Vogelsvlei.
'Did something happen?' he persisted with concern. 'Something to upset you, perhaps?'
Jennifer sighed inwardly and turned towards him in her seat to ask sharply, 'Are you taking me out to Featherstone, or are we going to sit here all afternoon discussing my appearance?'
'All right, I won't pry,' Stanley nodded agreeably, 'but it wouldn't surprise me at all if Hunter hasn't something to do with it. His mother and young Carla are the only women to escape the sharp edge of his tongue.'
His expression was tight-lipped as he started the car and drove away from Vogelsvlei, and it was some minutes before Jennifer remarked thoughtfully, 'One can't really blame him for not speaking harshly to Carla. She's very beautiful.'
'She's also a little vixen,' Stanley returned at once. 'And Hunter will be getting just what he deserves the day he marries her.'
Agnes' prediction sprang to the surface of her mind once more, but this time with stinging clarity as she asked tentatively, 'Are they going to be married?'
'So Carla says.'
Jennifer's hands tightened almost convulsively in her lap. 'What does Hunter say about it?'
'Hunter isn't a man who talks about himself, and neither does he tolerate being questioned about his personal life.'
'You know him well, though,' she pursued the topic with care. 'Would you say that he's in love with Carla?'
'Love?' Stanley snorted disparagingly. 'Hunter has a heart of stone, my dear Jennifer. He has all the natural desires and instincts of a man, but when it comes to love he's like a slab of lifeless concrete.' He laughed harshly. 'He'll take what he can get from a woman, but when she has nothing more to give he'll drop her flat.'
Inwardly shocked by his remark, but outwardly calm, she said: 'You make him sound quite inhuman.'
'And isn't he just that?' Stanley demanded, glancing at her swiftly before returning his attention to the road.
'Sometimes, yes, but—'
'But what?' he demanded sharply, swerving the car off the road unexpectedly, and switching off the engine before he swung round in his seat to face her with a suspicious gleam in his eyes. 'Don't tell me you have been silly enough to fall in love with Hunter?'
'Don't be ridiculous!' she denied crossly, shutting her mind to that taunting little voice that called her a liar. 'I can't stand him most of the time,' she added almost vehemently.
'Well, that's a relief anyway,' Stanley sighed, capturing one of her hands. 'It gets rather tiring to have to compete with my cousin all the time.'
'Stanley…' she began nervously, then she took a firm grip on her flagging courage and said gently but firmly, 'There's no question of competition where I'm concerned. I would like to enjoy your company, but I can't do that if you're going to read something more into our friendship than I'm prepared to give.'
His crestfallen expression was a clear indication that she had been correct in her assumption, but he recovered himself swiftly and nodded agreeably. 'I appreciate your honesty, Jennifer.'
He started the car again and drove on in silence; a silence during which Jennifer's mind went back towards the early part of their conversation.
Carla von Brandis had told Stanley that she and Hunter were to be married. Could she be believed, or was it merely wishful thinking which had driven her to impart this information? Jennifer wondered about it, but, if she had to judge, she would say that Carla had quite possibly spoken the truth. Hunter had never once shown any sign of displeasure in Carla's company, and neither did he reject her cloying manner, so what reason would there be for Carla to lie? It was a painful thought, but one Jennifer would have to accept. It was quite possible, of course, that Hunter was fond of Carla in his fashion, and if Agnes' prediction should come true, then Hunter and Carla would be married before the end of the year.
'Featherstone is just beyond those trees,' Stanley's voice interrupted her thoughts, and it was with pain-filled eyes that she glanced in the direction he was indicating.
CHAPTER FIVE
Featherstone's homestead was not as impressive as Vogelsvlei's, but it possessed a charm of its own with its gables and turrets and wide, trellised verandah. The interior had none of the polished splendour which Jennifer had encountered in Alice Maynard's home, but it had a comfortable, lived-in atmosphere that appealed a great deal to her.
'Jennifer!' Kate Maynard exclaimed, smiling broadly as she welcomed Jennifer into her home. 'How nice to have you here at last as our guest.'
'It's very nice to be here, Mrs Maynard,' Jennifer replied with polite sincerity.
'How is Alice?'
'She's very much better.'
'I believe she's walking on crutches now.'
'That's quite correct,' Jennifer acknowledged. 'It won't be long now before she'll walk with the aid of a stick only, judging by the way she's progressing.'
'I hope that doesn't mean you will be leaving Oudtshoorn soon?' Stanley asked quickly.
'I'm afraid it does,' Jennifer nodded, avoiding those hungry eyes. 'I doubt if I shall be here for another three weeks.'
Mother and son exchanged quick glances, then Kate said: 'I'd be delighted if you would consider spending a few weeks here with us before returning to Cape Town, Jennifer.'
'It's kind of you to suggest it, Mrs Maynard,' Jennifer replie
d politely, 'but I'm afraid I shall have to return to Cape Town at once.'
'That's a pity,' Kate frowned, 'but you could always come for a holiday, I suppose.'
'You will consider that, won't you, Jennifer?' Stanley asked with an eagerness she could not avoid noticing, and quite suddenly she pitied him.
'Yes, of course,' she agreed, hiding her initial reluctance, 'and thank you very much for the invitation.'
A smile lit up his lean face and, glancing at his mother, he said: 'What about something long and cool to drink?'
'That's an excellent idea,' Kate replied at once. 'I'll bring it out into the garden.'
Contrary to what Jennifer had hoped, she found herself alone with Stanley for most of the afternoon, but her initial wariness soon vanished. Keeping in mind what she had told him on the way to Featherstone, he never once stepped over the line of friendship, and she appreciated this. He was, she found, relaxing to be with, and often amusing as he kept her entertained with beliefs and anecdotes from the past during the ostrich feather boom, and she learnt, too, that his father had been killed by one of his own infuriated ostriches. Had it been due to carelessness? Jennifer wondered briefly, recalling Alice's remarks concerning her late brother-in-law.
'You like the view of the Outeniqua mountains?' Stanley queried as he intercepted her glance while they strolled back towards the house from one of the nearby grazing camps, and when she nodded, he said: 'Outeniqua means 'little brown men with skin bags of honey', and naturally it's referring to the Bushmen.' His hand on her arm drew her to a halt. 'Did you know that an ostrich eggshell is one of the most valued possessions of the nomadic Bushmen of the Kalahari?'
Jennifer narrowed her eyes against the glare of the sun as she glanced up at him and shook her head. 'I didn't know, but I presume they use them for storing water. How on earth do they prevent the water from spilling out, though?'
'They seal the opening with beeswax,' he explained, and as he removed his hand from his trouser pocket to gesture expressively, something fell to the ground at their feet.
It was a gold chain and, with a muttered oath, he bent down quickly to retrieve it, but not before Jennifer had glimpsed the name, twisted in fine gold wire, attached to the chain.
Carla. There was only one girl by that name that Jennifer knew of, but what was her chain doing in this man's trouser pocket?
Her enquiring glance met Stanley's, but he looked away with a measure of discomfort and mumbled, 'Shall we return to the house?'
'I think so,' Jennifer nodded. 'It's also time I returned to Vogelsvlei.'
'But it's still early,' Stanley protested, fully recovered now after that moment of awkwardness.
'No, it's not,' she contradicted, glancing at her wrist watch. 'It's a quarter past four, and Mrs Maynard likes to wash and change before dinner in the evenings.'
'It took me so long to get you here that I feel disinclined to let you go,' Stanley teased, then he placed his hand beneath her elbow as they approached the house. 'You will come again, won't you, Jennifer?'
'If I'm invited, yes.'
His smile broadened. 'I shall issue you with a daily invitation.'
'Don't be silly,' she laughed, but her expression sobered when she thought of the perplexing incident she had witnessed moments ago. Stanley's eyes were watchful, almost wary and, shedding her thoughts, she said abruptly, 'I'd like to pay my respects to your mother, then you really must take me back to Vogelsvlei.'
'Your wish is my command,' he bowed slightly in an attempt at lightheartedness, but there was a new wariness in his manner, and Jennifer was beginning to suspect the cause of it.
That night, alone in her room, she allowed her thoughts to dwell on what had occurred at Featherstone that afternoon. For some reason, she knew not what, Stanley carried Carla's chain around with him in his pocket. He could, of course, have picked it up with the intention of returning it to her, but if he had obtained it by innocent means, then why had he not offered her some sort of explanation instead of remaining silent and obviously disturbed by what he knew she had seen? There was only one other explanation Jennifer could find for Carla's chain being in Stanley's possession. Carla must have given it to him, and for some or other reason he cherished it to such an extent that he carried it with him constantly.
It didn't make sense, she decided at last. None of it made any sense! Carla was, quite obviously, setting her cap at Hunter, yet Stanley walked around with one of her personal trinkets in his pocket. Was she placing too much significance on what she had seen? Jennifer wondered. Or was Carla playing a double game?
Jennifer felt almost feverish at the thought of what it would do to Hunter if her suspicions were correct. He had suffered a woman's treachery once before, but what would it do to him if he encountered it once again from someone he had thought he could trust?
She tightened the belt of her dressing-gown about her waist, and stepped out on to the balcony to draw the cool, fresh air deep into her lungs. The breeze caressed her throbbing temples, and she closed her eyes for a moment as she leaned against one of the pillars supporting the railings.
A step on the gravel below her made her stare searchingly into the darkness, but she could see no one until the glowing tip of a cigarette made her realise that Hunter was standing below her, staring out across the garden. He seldom smoked except when he was disturbed, and this was obviously one of those moments. She could see him now; a tall, dark shadow moving across the path, the gravel crunching beneath his feet, and his harsh features visible for a moment when he drew hard on his cigarette once more. He turned to glance up at the house, and she stepped back hastily into the shadows, her heart leaping uncomfortably into her throat at the thought that he might have seen her, but he turned away and walked farther into the shadows.
She watched him go with an aching tenderness and a concern she had felt for no one before. It was ridiculous, of course. He would despise her tender feelings, just as he would mock her concern, and she would rather suffer his insults than have him suspect the emotions he had awakened in her.
With a sigh on her lips she turned away and, closing the doors behind her, she went to bed, but it was a long time before she went to sleep. It was not until she heard Hunter's heavy step in the passage, in fact, that she gained a certain amount of peace within herself, and her eyelids drooped some minutes later.
Alice Maynard and Jennifer were having tea out on the shady verandah the following morning when Carla's red car sped towards the house and came to a halt below the steps with its usual crunching of tyres on the gravel.
'Hello there!' Carla greeted airily as she bounced up the steps. 'Where's Hunter?'
'He's busy somewhere on the farm,' Alice replied stiffly as she observed the young girl's quivering impatience.
'But he knew I'd be calling round this morning,' Carla pouted angrily.
'My dear child, Hunter is far too busy to sit around waiting for you.'
Carla's glowering glance met Alice's. 'I never said I expected him to sit around and wait for me, Mrs Maynard, but I—'
'Why don't you find yourself something to do?' Alice interrupted, her eyes unexpectedly hard. 'You've had a good education, and you shouldn't have any difficulty finding yourself a job somewhere.'
A look of distaste flashed across Carla's beautiful face. 'There's no necessity for me to work.'
'So you spend your time keeping others out of theirs,' Alice Maynard remarked cuttingly, and turning to Jennifer she said: 'Help me up, please. I think I'd like to lie down for a while.'
The atmosphere was heavy with animosity as Jennifer assisted Alice to her feet and handed her her crutches. This was the first time she had ever witnessed a clash of sorts between Carla and Alice, but she could not deny that the younger girl's manner had been a source of irritation to her as well.
'You know,' Carla scowled when they were alone on the verandah, 'one of the first things I'll do when Hunter and I are married is to put that old woman out of this house!'
<
br /> A tremor of shock rippled through Jennifer, but it was followed by a vicious stab of pain. Carla had made it sound as if her marriage to Hunter was something quite definite, but it was also the latter part of her statement that disturbed Jennifer, and she said anxiously, 'You can't do that! You can't turn Mrs Maynard out of her own home.'
'I can, you know,' Carla insisted, her sensuous mouth thinning. 'She's been a thorn in my side for much too long.'
'I don't think Hunter will agree with you on this issue,' Jennifer remarked with a measure of distaste.
'I always get what I want,' Carla smiled confidently, 'and Hunter will do whatever I ask him to.'
Jennifer considered Carla's statement in thoughtful silence, but somehow she could not imagine Hunter going weak in the knees at a command from the young Carla, and she shook her head as she said contemplatively, 'I doubt it.'
'What do you doubt, Sister Casey?' Hunter demanded, and she looked up sharply to see him negotiate the steps on to the verandah in two lithe strides, and his presence, as always, quickened her pulse rate and alerted her to his virile masculinity.
'Darling!' Carla intervened, leaping to her feet to drap herself against his large frame. 'I thought you'd never come!'
He afforded Carla a brief, smiling glance before he returned his attention to Jennifer, who had managed, at last, to rise a little shakily to her feet. 'You haven't answered my question, Sister Casey.'
To answer his question she would have to reveal the discussion she had had with Carla and, glancing helplessly at the girl, she said haltingly, 'I—well, I—'
'What she was saying, darling, was that she doubted whether you would be home before lunch,' Carla intervened, choosing a devious method to come to Jennifer's rescue. 'Silly of her, wasn't it, because here you are.'
'Very silly of her, yes, and rather presumptuous,' Hunter agreed, his cold eyes never leaving Jennifer's.
'To tell the truth, Hunter, I think she was hoping that I'd leave without seeing you,' Carla continued, her smile sweet, but her glance challenging as it met Jennifer's.
The Spotted Plume Page 7
