The Spotted Plume

by Yvonne Whittal

  'I was hoping no such thing, and you know it,' Jennifer replied with a coolness that surprised even herself, but her cheeks were flaming with indignation and anger.

  'Then why are you blushing?' Carla persisted cleverly. 'Guilty conscience?'

  Jennifer was momentarily at a loss for words. She was conscious only of the proud tilt of Hunter's dark head, of the savage expression in his eyes, and the blue shirt that seemed to stretch too tightly across the width of his powerful shoulders. Faded blue denims hugged lean hips and muscular thighs, and when her senses began to respond to his physical appearance, she hastily turned her attention back to the girl at his side.

  'My conscience is clear, Carla,' she managed stiffly, 'but I most certainly wouldn't want yours.'

  Hunter could make of that what he liked, she decided as she stepped past them and entered the house. If he was going to make a fool of himself over a girl as fickle as the one he had been involved with before, then it was entirely his own business, but—oh, God, she didn't want him to be hurt again, and she was totally powerless to prevent it.

  'Are you not feeling well, Mrs Maynard?' Jennifer asked when she entered Alice's bedroom to find her lying on her bed with an expression on her face which was a mixture of annoyance and possible pain. 'Would you like me to massage your leg for you?'

  Alice shook her head and patted the space on the bed beside her. 'Sit down here and talk to me.'

  'What's upset you?' Jennifer asked at length when she was seated on the bed beside Hunter's mother.

  'It's not what, but whom, my dear,' Alice replied agitatedly. 'I've never been able to tolerate Carla, and I seem to be able to tolerate her even less now.'

  Jennifer smiled, but her amusement was tinged with fear. 'Has Agnes' prediction something to do with the way you feel?'

  'You're so right, it has,' Alice sighed, drawing herself up against the pillows. 'I don't know what I'll do, Jennifer, if Hunter should decide to marry that girl.'

  'You should credit him with more sense than to make a fool of himself twice,' she reprimanded the woman lying staring up at her, but the reprimand was also intended for herself.

  'I'd like to, but I've been watching them together lately,' Alice confessed with a measure of distaste. 'He's known Carla since she was a child, and she's always seemed to amuse him in some way, but lately he's actually been encouraging her.'

  Fear had a stranglehold on Jennifer's throat as she asked, 'Encouraging her in what way, Mrs Maynard?'

  'Well, just look how he allows her to claw at him and kiss him in public. In the past he used to put her in her place and hold her at arm's length, but lately—' Alice Maynard snorted angrily. 'I don't know what's got into him, and if he's not careful he's going to land himself in a great deal of unhappiness once again.'

  'Perhaps you're worrying unnecessarily,' Jennifer offered faintly.

  'Am I, Jennifer?' Their glances met and held until Jennifer was forced to look away. 'You see, you can't truthfully say that I'm troubled unnecessarily, and that fickle little witch seems to be able to do with him just as she likes these days.'

  It was with this troubling thought that Jennifer somehow managed to get through the rest of the day, and with it came the memory of Carla's gold chain in Stanley's possession. What did it mean?

  A few days later she had cause to confront Hunter in his study after she had settled Alice Maynard for the night, and her tentative knock on the door was followed by an abrupt command to enter.

  Jennifer swallowed nervously and went in, closing the door quietly behind her, then she faced him across the wide expanse of his desk, her eyes drawn by his compelling glance.

  'May I speak with you for a moment?'

  'Is it important?' he barked at her, almost succeeding in stripping her of her composure which had become rather fragile since her arrival at Vogelsvlei.

  'Dr. Tremayne would like to see your mother at the hospital tomorrow morning, and I wondered if you would object if I took her in my Fiat.'

  His dark brows met in a frown. 'What time does she have to be at the hospital?'

  'Ten-thirty.'

  'I'll take you,' he came to an abrupt decision, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desk blotter.

  'In your truck?' she asked, having visions of herself being deposited out in the open on the back of the dusty four-wheel-drive vehicle he used constantly about the farm.

  'In my car,' his cutting voice sliced into her thoughts, then he added mockingly, 'I do have one, you know.'

  Her cheeks grew pink under his mocking stare. 'I'm sorry.'

  'We'll leave at ten, if that will suit you both.'

  There was a note of dismissal in his voice, and she said hastily, 'That would be fine, thank you.'

  'I suppose you're anxious to see Mike Hoffman again,' his rasping voice stopped her on her way to the door, and she turned to face him once more, controlled anger replacing her initial surprise.

  'I can't deny that it would be nice seeing him again. We were great friends once,' she replied, unable to prevent herself from deliberately adding fuel to the fire of his suspicions. She knew that she had succeeded by the sardonic expression which had settled on his hard features, and she despised herself for it.

  'You're hoping, I suppose, that you could pick up where you left off all that time ago?'

  'Yes, of course.'

  His mouth tightened as he rose from behind his desk. 'You have no shame, have you?'

  'I've never done anything I need be ashamed of,' she replied wearily, knowing that her truthful replies were being twisted out of proportion to suit his own purpose.

  'That's exactly what I said,' he replied harshly, his eyes burning their way down the length of her with disgusting insolence. 'You have no shame because you don't consider your actions shameful.'

  She swallowed down the pain that rose in her throat, and said huskily, 'You're accusing me of being something that I'm not, and never have been.'

  'What else am I to think when you tell me that you and Mike Hoffman were once such great friends?' he demanded, thrusting his clenched fists into the pockets of his corded pants and glaring at her as if she were something to be despised. 'Mike has made no secret of the fact that all the women who have gone through his hands have at some time or another succumbed sufficiently to his charms to be lured into his bed.'

  There was an awful silence while her colour came and went. It was typical of Mike to pass on such intimate information about himself. Some might call it boasting, but to Mike it simply meant being truthful, and when she found her voice at last, she said huskily, 'All but one, Mr Maynard.'

  'You surely don't expect me to believe that, do you?' he demanded, his eyes narrowed slits of fire that seemed to be scorching her very soul.

  'You can believe what you like,' she finally shrugged. 'I didn't come here to discuss my personal life with you, but to arrange for your mother to get to the hospital tomorrow, and now that that's settled, I'll wish you goodnight.'

  'Just a minute.' Hunter moved with breathtaking speed to place a restraining hand of steel on the door which she was about to open, and his menacing nearness made her nerve ends quiver. 'I would like to make one thing very clear to you. You will leave Vogelsvlei the moment Dr Tremayne gives the signal that my mother is capable of taking care of herself.'

  She lowered her gold-tipped lashes to veil the pain in her eyes. 'In one way or another, Mr Maynard, you've made that abundantly clear right from the first moment we met, and it will be my pleasure to accommodate you in that respect.'

  'Get out!' he thundered, flinging the door wide.

  'With pleasure, just don't burst a blood vessel,' she replied with heavy sarcasm, but instead of allowing her to leave as he had instructed, one large hand closed about her aching throat, and it exerted just enough pressure to give her a certain amount of difficulty with her breathing.

  He was suddenly so close to her that she could feel his thighs brushing against her own, and his lips were drawn back in ang
er against strong white teeth. She was afraid, but she dared not show it, although she was certain that he must feel the rapid beat of her pulse beneath his restricting fingers.

  'I shall not tolerate your insolence for very much longer,' he warned thickly.

  'You won't have to,' she managed to force the words past the strangling pressure of his hand, but her voice was a mere whisper.

  He was breathing heavily, she could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her small breasts which were suddenly straining against the thin cotton of her overall, but what disturbed her most was the sight of his pupils enlarging to the extent that she could barely see the rim of blue surrounding them. The pressure of his hand against her throat relaxed and moved in an unconscious caress that made her senses leap in response until her entire body was filled with the aching need to know the touch of his lips and hands. Her pulses were drumming out a wild, alien message while she stared hypnotically up into those dark eyes devouring her with such ferocity, and then, surprisingly, she felt him tremble against her. With a sharp intake of breath he lowered his head, but before his lips could touch hers he thrust her from him with an exclamation of disgust.

  'Get out of here before I throw you out!' he ordered harshly, and, feeling oddly bewildered and lost, she turned and walked blindly out of his study on trembling, unsteady legs.

  Alone in her room, some minutes later, she tried to analyse what had happened between them, but one thing stood out as if it had been printed in bold, black letters on a snow-white sheet of paper. Hunter was not as immune to her as he would have her believe. 'He has all the desires and instincts of a man,' she recalled Stanley's words of a few days ago, and what had happened down there in his study had proved Stanley right. Hunter had shown quite clearly that her nearness had disturbed him emotionally. It had disgusted him, but it had been there all the same, and it was a strange feeling to know that she had the power, however small, to move him in this way.

  This could lead nowhere, of course, and she knew that. He still despised her; perhaps much more now than before, and her chances of convincing him to the contrary were suddenly much slimmer. There was only one woman Hunter seemed to believe in implicitly, and that was Carla; Carla, who Jennifer was sure would not hesitate to lie and cheat her way into his affections, only to leave him hurt and disillusioned once again.

  'Oh, damn!' Jennifer muttered, thumping her pillow repeatedly to give vent to her feelings. 'Damn Carla; damn that other woman, and damn Hunter for being so stubbornly blind to the truth when he's come face to face with it!'

  Taking her aggression out on her pillow did nothing to alleviate her frustration and heartache and, not being one given to unnecessary tears, she took a cold, refreshing shower and went to bed.

  Jennifer was surprised and faintly amused the following morning when she saw the large silver Mercedes parked just below the verandah steps, and she had great difficulty in avoiding Hunter's coldly cynical glance as she helped his mother from the house and into the back seat of the car. This meant, of course, that she would have to sit in front with Hunter, and at that moment she was not so sure that she wanted to be within touching distance of him. He had a devastating effect on her receptive nerves at the best of times, but, in his grey, lightweight suit, white silk shirt and matching grey tie, he made her feel rather weak in the knees. He was so tall, so strong, and those incredibly blue eyes beneath those dark brows seldom left her in peace.

  The trip to Oudtshoorn was accomplished swiftly and in comfort, but Jennifer had been intensely conscious of the muscled thigh not far from her own, the strong hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, and the chiselled profile of the man seated beside her. What would he look like, she found herself wondering, if his features were to soften in tenderness?

  Mike Hoffman assisted Dr Tremayne during the lengthy and thorough examination of Alice Maynard, and Jennifer remained at her side when she was wheeled to the X-ray department. This alleviated the necessity of having to sit out the time in the reception foyer with Hunter, but her thoughts somehow never strayed far from him and her heart leapt crazily when they finally emerged from the lift to find him pacing the floor restlessly.

  'In another week or so you might try putting some weight on that leg, but I insist that you use a walking stick at first,' Dr Tremayne was saying.

  'What nonsense!' Alice exclaimed crossly. 'I'm sure I could walk perfectly now if I tried.'

  'But you're not going to try, Mrs Maynard,' Dr Tremayne warned. 'You're going to do as I say.'

  'You're all a lot of bullies in the medical profession,' Alice complained.

  'Now that's not true, and you know it,' Dr Tremayne protested.

  'It's true,' Alice insisted. 'You've bullied me for weeks now. First you put me in that dreadful traction, then you wouldn't let me go home unless I had a qualified nurse to look after me, and now you think you can tell me when I may or may not use my own legs.'

  Hunter placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. 'It's all been for your own good, Mother.'

  'Yes, of course,' Alice sighed resignedly, then she glanced at Mike, who was doing his best not to smile. 'And you, young man? What do you have to say for yourself?'

  Mike Hoffman suddenly radiated that familiar charm which Jennifer knew so well, and she knew, too, that he used it mostly when he was out to get something.

  'I was hoping, Mrs Maynard,' Mike replied suavely, 'that you would give me the opportunity of persuading you to allow me to take Jennifer out to dinner this evening.'

  'Mike!' Jennifer gasped in shocked surprise, aware suddenly of Hunter's narrowed glance resting on her person. 'You know I can't—'

  'Of course you can, Jennifer,' Alice Maynard interrupted. 'You have my permission, Dr Hoffman, to take Jennifer out to dinner, but on condition that you bring her back safely to Vogelsvlei.'

  'You have my word on that,' Mike bowed towards her gallantly and, after excusing himself, he winked brazenly at Jennifer and said: 'I'll call for you at six.'

  'But I—'

  'Why protest, Sister Casey?' Hunter murmured mockingly from his position directly behind her as she stood staring after Mike's retreating figure. 'This is what you were hoping for, isn't it?'

  Helpless frustration welled up inside her, but there was nothing she could do about it with Alice Maynard and Dr Tremayne looking on. They had fortunately not heard Hunter's remark, and Jennifer tried to behave as if nothing had happened, but Hunter's accusations, although unspoken, were almost tangible.

  It was Dr Tremayne who broke the awkward little silence by announcing, 'I'm going to make an appointment for you to see a specialist in Port Elizabeth.'

  'What on earth do I have to see a specialist for?' Alice demanded agitatedly. 'I'm perfectly happy with what you've done for me.'

  'I'm very glad to hear that you're satisfied even though you accused me of being a bully a few moments ago,' Dr Tremayne teased. 'However, I'm the one who won't be entirely satisfied until a specialist has given you a thorough examination once more.'

  'This is just an added nuisance,' Alice protested, but Dr Tremayne had already turned to speak to Hunter.

  'If you could collect the X-rays tomorrow afternoon, then I should be able to give you the date and time of Mrs Maynard's appointment, and it would save time if you took the X-rays along with you.'

  Hunter nodded with obvious impatience, and a few minutes later he was driving them back to Vogelsvlei in stony silence. At the luncheon table he spoke only when he was spoken to, and, when he excused himself later, Alice Maynard mumbled something about teaching him a lesson which was totally bewildering to Jennifer.

  She did not see Hunter during the rest of the afternoon, but he was leaning against the rails at the far end of the verandah when Mike came to collect her at six that evening. Her heart lurched violently at the sight of him, but Mike had taken her arm and was ushering her towards his sporty Jaguar. She tried to appear indifferent, but, with those hard, accusing eyes following her every step of th
e way, she felt guilty for no reason at all. Hunter was making her feel like someone going off on a cheap romantic escapade, instead of which she was going to spend the evening with an old and trusted friend who had never so much as touched her hand in anything other than a platonic fashion.

  If only she could make Hunter understand how wrong he was, but what would be the use? He believed whatever he pleased, and right this minute he was convinced that she was on her way to a few hours of passion in Mike Hoffman's bed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Having dinner with Mike Hoffman was the antidote Jennifer had needed desperately. He was someone she could talk to; someone she could confide in. But most of all he was someone she could relax and be herself with. Their relationship with each other had always been comfortable, and without the usual tensions between a man and a woman. Perhaps it was due to the fact that they understood each other so well, she decided as their eyes met across the candlelit table in a quiet corner of the restaurant.

  'Are you still cut up over Colin's death?' Mike asked unexpectedly, and the smile left her eyes.

  'I shall always regret the fact that such a brilliant surgeon should have lost his life in such a silly accident, but—'

  'You're no longer pining for him,' Mike filled in for her when she stopped speaking so abruptly.

  'No,' she admitted.

  'Has someone else taken his place?'

  'No.' It was a deliberate lie, but when she saw the look in his eyes she laughed ruefully and shook her head. 'I never was much good at hiding things from you, was I?'

  'It's Hunter Maynard, isn't it.'

  It was a statement, not a question, and she looked at him in shocked surprise as she asked, 'What on earth gave you that idea?'

  'Men do occasionally have a sixth sense about these things, you know.'

  They stared at each other for a time, then she lowered her glance a little guiltily. 'Mike, I want you to know that I loved and respected Colin very much, and I'm sure we could have made each other very happy.'

  'But?' Mike added humorously.