Late Harvest

by Yvonne Whittal

  'That's generous of you.'

  Was that sarcasm she heard in his voice, or merely surprise? she wondered as she unscrewed the flask's cap and poured coffee into the mugs. She felt nervous and ill at ease, and not quite sure that she was doing the right thing, but when she handed him his coffee his tired face struck a sensitive chord.

  'Why don't you go home and get some rest?' she suggested tentatively. 'I'll stay here for a while.'

  He leaned back in his chair with the mug between his hands, and shook his head. 'I can't leave you here alone, Kate.'

  The ice was miraculously broken, and they were back on the old footing. She knew it when anger and resentment rose within her like a tidal wave. 'I've gone through this ritual for quite a number of years now, and my father never once doubted my capabilities.'

  'Sheathe your claws, Kate,' he ordered harshly. 'I was referring to you as a woman, and your safety if you should remain here alone.'

  Her anger subsided as swiftly as it had risen, and her eyes were laughing at him now. 'Do you imagine someone might be hiding behind the vats to pounce on me?'

  'You never know.'

  'Don't be silly,' she argued. 'The workers are a superstitious lot, and very few of them would risk coming here at night.'

  'What makes you say that?'

  'They believe the underground cellars are haunted.' She seated herself on the corner of the desk, and when he didn't reply she glanced at him curiously. 'Didn't you know?'

  'That's ridiculous,' he said abruptly, thrusting his pipe into his mouth and lighting it. 'This building was erected in your father's time.'

  'This section, yes,' she nodded, 'but the section where the vats are situated is over two hundred years old, and the workers firmly believe that any building that old must have a ghost.'

  'All the more reason, then, why I can't leave you here on your own,' he mocked her.

  'I don't believe in ghosts,' she retorted abruptly, raising her mug to her lips and sipping at the hot coffee.

  'Perhaps not, but I have a better solution,' Rhyno announced. 'Why don't you stay and keep me company? I've a long night ahead of me, and the hours drag when one is on one's own.' A cloud of smoke drifted towards the high ceiling, and the pleasant aroma of his pipe tobacco hovered about her. 'What about it, Kate?'

  Her eyes met his and she wondered if he knew why she had joined him there in the cellars, but she thrust this uncomfortable thought from her and said soberly, 'I'll stay, if you like.'

  They sat there in silence for some minutes, then he placed his empty mug on the desk blotter. 'You make a good cup of coffee.'

  'Thanks,' she said without looking at him.

  'We don't have much to say to each other, do we?'

  'No,' she sighed, putting her own mug aside, and turning her head to look at him just in time to see a faint smile curving his mouth, but it disappeared so swiftly that she could almost have imagined it.

  'If you're going to keep me company all night, then we shall have to think of something,' Rhyno announced drily, and she grasped at the first thing that came to mind.

  'Tell me about yourself,' she said. 'Why did you go to school in Cape Town instead of here in Stellenbosch?'

  His mouth twitched, but his eyes remained expressionless. 'Who told you that?'

  'My father,' she replied, not particularly interested in the topic of conversation she had chosen.

  'I started off my education here in Stellenbosch, but when my mother sold La Reine to your father I was sent to a school in Cape Town,' he explained tolerantly. 'Someone who obviously thought a great deal of my mother paid for my education right through to university, and it was this person's wish that I attend a private school in Cape Town.'

  Kate's interest quickened, and she thought at once of her father. He had had a very high opinion of Naomi van der Bijl, but whether he would have taken a hand in the education of her son was something she could not be certain of, and she cast the thought aside, labelling it ridiculous.

  'Do you know who this person is?' she asked cautiously.

  'No.'

  'Have you never tried to find out?'

  'I've tried, but without much success,' he replied, placing his pipe in the ashtray and leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his dark head.

  His action made his shirt pull tightly across his muscled chest, and she looked away, remembering only too vividly the feel of its hardness against her soft breasts.

  Directing her thoughts rather frantically in a different direction, she asked, 'What made you study viticulture?'

  'An interest in winemaking, naturally, and the vague hope that I might one day be able to work on a farm such as La Reine.'

  'So when my father advertised for an estate manager you jumped at the opportunity.'

  'Not quite,' his abrupt reply doused that flicker of cynicism within her. 'I had a good job with a reasonably bright future ahead of me, whereas here I had no future, only the pleasure of working on the farm I'd loved so much as a child.'

  'What made you decide eventually to take the job?'

  His hard mouth twisted into a semblance of a smile, as if her question amused and angered him simultaneously. 'I applied for the job, and when your father asked me to come for an interview I was impressed by his knowledge.'

  'And seeing La Reine again naturally influenced your decision,' she added without rancour this time.

  There was a prolonged silence, then Rhyno sat forward in his chair with his arms resting on the desk so that his hands almost touched her thigh. 'You still resent me, don't you.'

  It was a statement, not a question, and it shook her considerably. She knew he was watching her intently, but she could not meet his eyes, and her hands tightened on the edge of the desk as she paused to analyse her feelings.

  'I don't resent you so much at the moment,' she replied quietly and truthfully. 'I'm well aware of the fact that I need your help now that my father is no longer here, but I do resent having to marry you to eventually gain my rightful inheritance.'

  'When you speak of your rightful inheritance, do you feel you've been cheated out of La Reine?'

  'No, I don't.' Her eyes widened, and when they met his they were filled with unmistakable sincerity. 'My father always said that La Reine would never be mine, and I accepted that. La Reine's wines are processed here on Solitaire, but that's all there is to it.'

  Rhyno frowned, and his dark brows almost met to form a sombre line. 'Do you think your father had intentions of selling La Reine at some time or another?'

  'Perhaps,' she gestured helplessly with her hands, 'but he changed his mind, of course, when you came along.'

  He nodded abruptly, and his eyes mocked her as he referred to himself as 'The villain of the piece'.

  Kate sustained his glance for a moment, not denying, nor agreeing with his remark, but his mood changed abruptly, and when his penetrating gaze aroused that odd fluttering in her breast she slid off the desk and asked abruptly, 'When do you have to check the tanks?'

  'Right now,' he said, glancing at his wrist watch. 'Want to come along?'

  'Just try and stop me,' she announced, and they left the office together to test and taste the young wines during this critical period in the fermentation tanks.

  Kate spent the night in the cellars with Rhyno. In between the four-hourly checks they discussed winemaking techniques, drank coffee, and eventually took turns to sleep for a few hours on the comfortable camp bed in the corner of the office. When morning came they were both a little hollow-eyed and tired, but the reward they would eventually receive would be worth it all.

  They had shared a common interest that night, but somehow it had brought them no closer together than they had been before, and their relationship drifted back to what it had been before their marriage.

  'At least you're speaking to each other again,' Aunt Edwina remarked one morning when Kate had tea with her out on the terrace. 'I couldn't have taken those chilly silences a day longer.'

/>   Kate felt amused, but she said nothing. Aunt Edwina would never understand the turmoil going on inside her; how could she, when Kate could not even understand it herself at times?

  Kate had been married more than a month when she met Gavin in town one afternoon while she was wading through her shopping list. She had not seen him since that night when Rhyno had literally dragged her from his presence in the restaurant and, quite frankly, she had never dreamed that he would still want to have anything to do with her after the way she had treated him.

  She felt a little awkward when she found herself face to face with him in the street, but his blue eyes laughed at her in that familiar way, and she found herself relaxing.

  'Is there time for you to have tea with me somewhere?' he asked.

  'Of course there is,' she said at once.

  Gavin ordered tea in the tea-room across the street, and when it was brought to their table Kate poured.

  'I haven't seen you in weeks,' he said when she passed him his cup.

  'We've been rather busy out at Solitaire,' she replied vaguely, stirring her own tea and taking a sip.

  'Kate…' his gaze travelled to the wedding ring on her finger, 'I'm afraid I didn't take the news of your marriage very well, but we can still be friends, can't we?'

  'I'd like that, Gavin,' she smiled, wondering if he cared enough to wait, but she shelved the thought hastily.

  'Are you happy, Kate? he questioned unexpectedly, and her eyes widened in surprise.

  'Why do you ask?'

  'Just curious,' he shrugged, and when she made no attempt to answer him, he repeated his question a little more urgently. 'Are you happy?'

  'I'm as happy as anyone could hope to be, I suppose,' she replied with extreme caution.

  His eyes met hers intently across the rim of his cup. 'Your marriage isn't a success, then?'

  'I never said that,' she argued hastily, but Gavin merely smiled with something close to satisfaction.

  'You can't fool me, Kate.'

  'Gavin, you're mistaken, I—'

  'All right, I won't persist in that direction,' he hastily interrupted her protest, 'but I want you to know that I'll be hanging around just in case, and all you have to do is call.'

  She stared at him contemplatively for a moment, then she smiled mischievously. 'You say that almost as if you hope my marriage is going to fail!'

  'Not quite,' he grinned back at her, 'but if it does, then I'll be there to pick up the pieces.'

  'How melodramatic!' Kate laughed, and that unfamiliar tension eased slightly between them.

  'When do I see you again?' Gavin demanded at length, his blue gaze capturing hers.

  'What about coming out to Solitaire for dinner on Friday evening?' she suggested after only a brief hesitation.

  'I thought you were never going to ask,' he grinned.

  'See you at six-thirty on Friday, then,' she said, gathering up her parcels and getting to her feet. 'And thanks for the tea,' she added when Gavin accompanied her out to where she had parked her car.

  When Kate drove back to Solitaire that afternoon she wondered whether she had not been a little too impulsive in issuing that invitation to Gavin. A vague feeling of uneasiness told her that Rhyno was not going to be pleased, but to the devil with Rhyno, she decided eventually when Solitaire's entrance loomed up ahead of her.

  That evening after dinner, while they lingered over coffee at the table, she made her announcement.

  'I've invited Gavin to come and have dinner with us on Friday evening,' she said with the light of an anticipated battle flickering in her sapphire blue eyes.

  Aunt Edwina opened her mouth to say something, but Rhyno forestalled her with an abrupt, 'You've been seeing him?'

  'I met him quite by chance this afternoon while I was out shopping, and he invited me to have tea with him,' she answered truthfully as she withstood Rhyno's narrowed, angry gaze.

  'Do you think it's wise?'

  'Do you mean inviting Gavin here, or having tea with him in town?' she mocked him, but her mockery was wasted on Rhyno, for his expression remained shuttered.

  'Both, I should say.'

  Her chin rose defiantly. 'Being married to you, Rhyno, doesn't mean that I have to ignore the existence of my friends.'

  'I wouldn't dream of suggesting such a thing,' he replied smoothly, but Kate was instantly aware of that undercurrent of controlled anger in his voice, and she chose to ignore it.

  'I'm glad you're taking it that way,' she replied sarcastically, ignoring Aunt Edwina's warning signals.

  'I dare say you wouldn't have any objection if I invite Barbara Owen to join us that same evening?'

  Kate was momentarily deflated. Of all things she had never expected this, but she recovered her composure swiftly, and said brightly, 'No objection at all.'

  'That's settled, then,' he agreed, his expression ominous as he pushed back his chair and got to his feet. 'I'll give her a call and issue the invitation.'

  He walked out of the dining hall and closed the door firmly behind him. For a few seconds after his departure there was absolute silence in the room, then Aunt Edwina said reprovingly, 'I hope you realise that what you're doing could only lead to trouble.'

  Kate's brows rose a fraction. 'Good heavens, Aunt Edwina, since when is it wrong to invite one's friends over for dinner one evening?'

  'Mutual friends, yes,' her aunt agreed anxiously, 'but you know what Gavin has meant to you in the past, and even I know that Barbara Owen was Rhyno's…'

  'Mistress?' Kate filled in for her aunt when she paused uncomfortably.

  Edwina shrank visibly from the word. 'I wouldn't know about that, but I do know that he saw her often.'

  'Don't look so worried, Aunt Edwina,' Kate laughed unconcernedly. 'I'm quite convinced we shall spend a highly entertaining evening together.'

  Aunt Edwina looked doubtful, and some of her doubt spilled over on to Kate when, later that evening, she lay in bed and wondered just what she had hoped to achieve by inviting Gavin to Solitaire. Surely, as she had said to Rhyno, there was no need for them to ignore the existence of their friends, but why, then, did she have this pinched feeling in her chest at the thought of Barbara Owen coming to Solitaire?

  She pondered this question until late that night, but the answer evaded her. She heard Rhyno's footsteps coming down the passage, and moments later there was a strip of light beneath the dressing-room door. She listened to him moving about as she had done almost every night since their marriage, but on this occasion he seemed exceedingly restless for some reason. Long after he had showered she could still hear him moving about, and she found his restlessness infectious. She thought she heard him pause once beside the door, and her heart seemed to leap into her throat, but he resumed his pacing a moment later, and it was some time after midnight before he switched off his light and went to bed.

  The silence enveloped Kate, and settled her nerves. She sighed deeply and rolled over on to her side, hoping to go to sleep, but her thoughts continued to revolve around Rhyno and Barbara Owen. Were they lovers, or merely friends? The latter was highly unlikely, Kate decided at length. Rhyno's virile masculinity was undeniable, and Barbara Owen was an extremely attractive woman. Put two elements like that together, and a platonic relationship wouldn't stand a chance.

  The thought of Rhyno making love to Barbara made Kate squirm inwardly. It had never troubled her before, but for some unknown reason it troubled her now, and it was a thought she preferred not to dwell on.

  Rhyno would be a masterful lover! The thought came unbidden into her mind, forcing her to recall the feel of his hard body against her own, and the bruising intimacy of his mouth against hers. In his anger his arms had been like a crushing vice about her, but what, she wondered crazily, would it feel like to have those strong hands caressing her instead of dishing out punishment?

  She was venturing into dangerous territory, she warned herself when she felt her pulse quicken. If the mere thought of Rhyno's caresses c
ould do this to her, then heaven help her if it ever became reality for some unlikely reason.

  Kate felt nervous and edgy all day Friday, and instead of looking forward to the evening, she began to dread it. She dressed with care, convinced that she was going to dislike Barbara Owen intensely, and determined not to be overshadowed, but instead she found her utterly charming and pleasant when they met.

  Dark-haired and green-eyed, she had a tall, shapely figure which would make her the envy of most models. She was sophisticated and beautiful, and Kate concluded her assessment of this woman by guessing her age some-where between twenty-five and thirty.

  'I can't tell you how thrilled I was to receive Rhyno's invitation,' she told Kate in her warm, honeyed voice soon after her arrival. 'I've heard so much about Solitaire and its superb wines, but I never dreamed I would one day actually have the opportunity of seeing this historic house.'

  Gavin, who had never made a secret of the fact that old houses bored him to tears, asked with some surprise, 'Do old, historic houses interest you, Miss Owen?'

  'They fascinate me,' Barbara confessed at once. 'They possess a character and nobility one could never find anywhere else.'

  'If you're interested then I'm sure my niece would take you on a quick tour of the house before dinner,' Aunt Edwina suggested, and Barbara's eager glance swung in Kate's direction.

  'Would you, Kate?'

  'I'd be happy to,' Kate replied a little stiffly and, conscious of Rhyno's dark gaze resting on her, she rose to her feet. 'Would you excuse us, please?' she murmured to Gavin.

  Kate led the way from the living-room and showed Barbara through the house, explaining the architecture and the layout as they went along. She pointed out where improvements and alterations had been made over the years and, no matter how much she. tried, she could not fault the genuine interest Barbara displayed in Solitaire's homestead. Her questions were intelligent and… dammit … Kate was actually beginning to like her!

  'The kitchen was originally situated in this spot, but it was destroyed by fire in 1785, along with the servants' quarters,' Kate explained when they stepped into the open courtyard which led off the existing kitchen, and a little spark of devilment made her add: 'The charred remains of the three Malay servants were supposedly buried under this stone floor, and some people believe they still roam about restlessly at night.'