Finding an acceptable excuse for driving in to town that afternoon was no problem, but apprehension was knotting her stomach when she walked into the attorney's office and seated herself. He smiled at her across the wide expanse of his desk, and for a few minutes they discussed everything from the weather to Aunt Edwina's visit to Cape Town. His obvious reluctance to get to the point awakened a gnawing fear, and Hubert Walton, knowing that he could no longer prolong the inevitable, shuffled the papers before him, and faced her grimly.
'I have some information here which might interest you, but I don't think you're going to like it.'
'Whether I like it or not is of no consequence.' Her throat felt dry, but her palms were cold and damp as she leaned forward in her chair. 'I must know, Uncle Hubert.'
The attorney cleared his throat characteristically, and lowered his gaze. 'You were right about Rhyno and Barbara Owen being at university together. According to the information I received it was generally assumed that she was Rhyno's girl-friend.'
'Is that all?' Kate asked stiffly when a few seconds elapsed with only the hum of the air-conditioner filling the room.
'Are you sure you want me to go on?' Hubert asked hesitantly, a frown between his bushy eyebrows.
'Don't keep me in suspense,' she replied with a hint of sarcasm in her voice which was directed at no one in particular, and Hubert fiddled with his papers once more before he continued.
'Rhyno was in his final year at varsity and Barbara in her second year when she became pregnant and was forced to relinquish her studies.'
Shock, like a vicious blow in her midriff, robbed her momentarily of breath, and her hands unconsciously tightened on the arms of the chair. 'Was Rhyno the father of her child?'
'So everyone believed.'
Kate's mind was in a frantic turmoil, she couldn't think straight, and logic was something that deserted her completely at that moment. Fact and supposition mingled to form a horrifying picture that made her feel sick inside.
'Why didn't he marry her?' she questioned Hubert in a voice that sounded as cold as she felt.
'I'm afraid I can't answer that,' he shrugged.
'What happened to the child?'
'She's living with Barbara's parents in Cape Town.'
'Do you have their address?'
'Yes, it's in Rondebosch, if I'm not mistaken.' He found the address among his papers, scribbled it on to a slip of paper, and handed it to her with an anxious query in his eyes. 'You're not thinking of going there, are you?'
'No, but…' She hesitated, not quite sure yet what she wanted to do with the address he had given her, but she folded it between her trembling fingers and slipped it into her handbag. 'I might need the address some time in the future, one never knows,' she said at length, closing her handbag and raising her glance to his.
Hubert Walton looked uncomfortable and genuinely distressed. He had known Kate since the day that she was born, and nothing could have pained him more than to pass this information on to her. She was pale but composed as she sat there facing him, and he could not help but admire her.
'Kate, I'm—'
'Was there anything else?' she interrupted him quickly, sensing his discomfort.
'No,' he shook his head.
'Thanks for your help,' she said with forced brightness, getting unsteadily to her feet and extending her hand towards him.
His fingers tightened about hers. 'Don't thank me. I'm only sorry that I—' He paused abruptly and, releasing her hand, he gestured vaguely. 'You know what I mean.'
'I know what you mean,' Kate whispered, then she turned quickly and walked out of his office before those despicable tears spilled from her eyes.
She had driven a few kilometres out of town before she parked her Mercedes off the road and gave way to the tears which were blurring her vision. It was all very well suspecting something, but learning the truth was quite a different matter.
Was it the truth?
She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. That question had blasted its way into her mind, bringing with it that much-needed thread of logic, and while the late afternoon sun dipped towards the west, bathing the valley in a golden hue, Kate stared straight ahead of her with unseeing eyes while she tried to unravel the information she had received. Some of it was fact, and some of it was pure speculation, but it was difficult trying to decide on the reliability of the latter.
If Rhyno was the father of Barbara's child, then why had he not married her? It hurt like the very devil to think of it, but she had to; she had to try and make some sense out of this whole shocking business. She could somehow not imagine that Rhyno would have shirked his responsibilities to this extent, and yet Barbara had merely to call for him to hasten to her side.
She sighed and started the car. She was too puzzled and confused to think rationally at that moment. Perhaps tomorrow she would see it all in a different light when the pain was not so intense with every thought that flitted through her mind.
At the dinner table that evening Kate found herself studying Rhyno when she thought he was not looking, and instinct suddenly told her that he could not be the father of Barbara's child. She could not explain to herself afterwards why she felt so strongly about this, but she knew, and after that the hurt was not so intense. At the same time she also realised that she actually knew very little about the man she had married under such impossible circumstances, but she was determined that this was something which she would rectify as soon as possible.
'You've been staring at me all evening as if you've never seen me before,' Rhyno startled her with his observation when he got into bed beside her that evening.
'Perhaps I'm seeing you for the first time as you really are,' she parried his remark with that usual hint of sarcasm in her voice as a defence against the truth.
Rhyno stared hard at her and, when she would have turned her face away to avoid his intense scrutiny, his fingers trapped her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. 'What exactly do you mean by that?'
'I don't really know you very well, do I?' she explained lamely, her lashes veiling the expression in her eyes. 'We married each other to claim our inheritance, and for some weeks now you've been sharing my bed, but I still know very little about you.'
The pressure of his fingers lightened into a caress that made her pulse quicken, but his hard mouth curved with derisive mockery. 'You know all the important things, and the rest is none of your business.'
'Does Barbara have some sort of hold over you?' she questioned daringly, and the next instant his harsh laugh jarred her sensitive nerves.
'No woman will ever have a hold over me,' he told her bluntly, his fingers biting briefly into her shoulders before his hand slid down her body to mould her hips to his. 'Not even you, Kate.'
His mouth descended to silence her barbed reply, and then she was lost. She had realised some time ago that it was senseless to fight against the pleasure only he could give her, and she surrendered herself willingly to the intoxication of his lean, demanding body, but, as always, she held back subconsciously, not giving of herself entirely.
Kate drove across to La Reine a few days later, but she could not imagine what she hoped to find there. In all the years it had belonged to her father, she had entered the homestead only once, to deliver a message to the previous estate manager, but now, as she stared at the silent, gabled house, she felt the urge to enter again what had once been Rhyno's home.
She parked her car beside the honeysuckle hedge and approached the house hesitantly. It was all very well wanting to go inside, but how was she going to do that without a key? Rhyno would keep it locked, she was certain of that, yet when her hand touched the heavy brass handle on the front door it opened beneath her touch. Surprised, and more than a little concerned, she stepped into the hall where the stained glass windows above the door cast patterns on the yellow-wood floor. The house was obviously being cleaned and aired regularly, but it was ominously silent as she wandered through the vast rooms which were
sparsely furnished with bits and pieces from Solitaire. Her eyes searched for something belonging to Rhyno; something which might give her an indication as to what kind of man he was, but there was nothing except a few farming magazines in what was once the study. A few battered books had been stacked up in the shelves against the wall behind the desk, and one in particular caught her eye. It was a volume of poetry, and she removed it carefully, blowing the layer of dust off its cover before she examined it more closely.
She paged through it slowly, recognising some of her old favourites, and for a while she had no conception of time or place until a photograph slid from its hiding place between those yellowed pages. It was a photograph of a much younger Barbara sandwiched between a youthful-looking Rhyno and a fair-haired young man who not only looked handsome, but obviously knew it too. Kate's hand shook as she replaced the photograph, and only then did she notice the two lines of a poem which had been heavily underlined.
Hard is her heart as flint or stone,
She laughs to see me pale.
Did those words refer to Barbara? Surely not, Kate thought. Barbara was not like that at all. But who else? Those underlined sentences reflected the heart of a man who loved, and a stab of jealousy and pain tore at her insides.
'Were you looking for something?'
The book snapped shut between Kate's nervous fingers, and her heart leapt into her throat as she swung round to face the man who had entered the room so quietly. Her eyes were fixed on those harsh features, seeking vainly for a softening which was never there for her, and then, with a heart that was pounding heavily, she said lamely, 'I… the front door was open…'
'It was unlocked, but it was not open,' he corrected blandly, then a cynical smile curved his mouth. 'What did you hope to find, Kate?'
'Nothing, I—' She swallowed nervously and averted her eyes. 'I'd only been here once before, and I—I was curious.'
'Have you satisfied your curiosity?' Rhyno asked abruptly, removing the book from her nerveless fingers and returning it to the shelf.
Kate stared at his broad back in the blue checked shirt which seemed to be almost a size too small, and fought against the ache in her throat before she answered his question with a query of her own. 'Why are you treating me like a trespasser?'
'You are trespassing, Kate,' he stated bluntly, and turned in time to witness her cheeks reddening with humiliation.
'You don't consider that you're doing the same at Solitaire?' she hit back.
'I'm carrying out, to the letter, the instructions in your father's will.'
Anger brought an edge to her voice. 'I don't recall anything in my father's will which gave you access to my body.'
'You brought that on yourself when you disregarded our agreement.' His eyes mocked her ruthlessly. 'You must admit, though, that it's a delightful way of passing the time.'
'You filthy swine!' she spat out the words furiously, only to retreat the next instant when he advanced towards her purposefully.
'Shall I prove to you here and now how much you've enjoyed these past weeks?'
'If you touched me now I'd be physically ill,' she cried hoarsely, and fled from him, her eyes blinded by tears as she sped out of the house to where she had parked her car.
She grated the gears, reversed wildly, then drove away at a speed that made the car sway and bump crazily across the uneven track. She did not look back, but she had a feeling that Rhyno was watching her, and her foot went down automatically. The Mercedes leapt forward with a renewed burst of energy as if the devil himself were on its tail, but it skidded on the loose sand, and only by some miracle did Kate maintain control of the vehicle as it spun round and finally came to a halt in a cloud of dust with its nose facing the way she had come.
Distraught and shocked, she put her head down on to the steering wheel and wept a little hysterically. This type of irrational behaviour was quite unlike her, and she admonished herself severely when she finally regained control of herself. It was senseless allowing Rhyno to affect her in this way, but—oh, God, how did she cope with the knowledge that she had given her love where it was not wanted?
For the next few days Kate could think of nothing else but those underlined words of the poem. Hard is her heart as flint or stone, she laughs to see me pale. What did it mean? And why was the place marked with a photograph in which Barbara Owen appeared? There was so much to think about; so much that puzzled her, but she came no closer to finding an explanation for it all.
She was on her way to the breakfast-room early one morning when the telephone rang in the hall, and when she lifted the receiver it was Barbara's voice that said: 'Kate, I apologise for telephoning at this unearthly hour of the morning, but I must speak to Rhyno urgently.'
'I'll call him,' Kate answered her abruptly and, placing the receiver on the table, she crossed the hall and walked down the passage to their bedroom. Rhyno emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed, and she gave him no more than a cursory glance as she said stiffly, 'It's Barbara on the phone. She wants to speak to you urgently.'
She followed him from the room, but in the hall she turned off to the left to wait for him in the breakfast-room. His muted voice reached her ears, but she could not hear what he was saying, and as she stared at the bacon and eggs before her she promptly lost her appetite. What were they talking about, and what new scheme were they hatching to spend some time together?
Rhyno walked into the breakfast-room a few minutes later and helped himself to the omelette which he preferred, and a slice of toast. Kate watched him eat in silence, marvelling at his calm, unperturbed manner, and she hovered on the brink of questioning him about the call he had received from Barbara, but somehow she remained silent.
'I'll be leaving for Cape Town just as soon as I've had breakfast,' he informed her almost as if he had sensed her curiosity.
'Is that where Barbara telephoned from?'
'Yes.'
Kate wrung the table napkin between her hands without actually knowing what she was doing. 'I suppose you can't tell me what it is that makes you run to her aid the minute she calls?'
He looked up sharply, and his expression was grim as his eyes pinned her to her chair. 'I told you before, you wouldn't understand.'
'Try me.'
'I haven't the time or the inclination, Kate,' he brushed aside her suggestion with hurtful impatience. 'Now, if you'll pour me a cup of coffee, I can be on my way in a few minutes.'
Perilously close to tears, but determined not to show it, she poured his coffee and passed it to him. If only he would confide in her, she thought despairingly, but it seemed as though she was wishing for the impossible. Perhaps if she confronted him with what she knew it might help to bring it all out into the open, she decided, and when Rhyno pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, she followed his example.
'Rhyno?' she said hesitantly, not quite knowing how to begin.
'I'm in a hurry, Kate. What is it?'
She raised her hands in an appealing gesture, but his expression remained shuttered and unrelenting. She knew that it would be impossible to reach him, and her hands fell helplessly to her sides as she muttered lamely, 'Nothing.'
Rhyno gave her a withering look before he strode out of the room, and a few minutes later he was driving away from Solitaire to keep his appointment with Barbara.
During the winter months Kate nearly always spent her mornings in the study, catching up on the pile of paperwork, but this morning she could not concentrate on what she was doing. Her mind was elsewhere… in Rondebosch… and after an hour of indecision, she acted on an impulse and almost ran into her bedroom to find that address Hubert Walton had given her. It was time this distasteful situation was brought out into the open, and she knew now that there was only one way to do it. No matter how much it might hurt, she had to find out the truth behind these frequent and secretive meetings.
Half an hour after making this decision, she was speeding towards Cape Town. She had no idea, as yet, what she was
going to say, or do for that matter, but whatever happened she had to know the truth.
It was midday before she arrived in Cape Town, and then she had some difficulty in locating the Owen house in Rondebosch, but when at last she parked her car in the street outside their spacious home she was taut with nerves. Rhyno's car was parked in the driveway, and so was Barbara's. On the lawn, beneath a shady tree, a fair-haired little girl of six or seven was playing with her dolls, . and she looked up curiously when Kate pushed open the gate and closed it carefully behind her.
'Hello,' Kate smiled at her tentatively. 'What's your name?'
'Stephanie,' the child lisped without hesitation, leaving her dolls for a moment to inspect Kate more closely.
'Is your mummy at home?' Kate asked unnecessarily.
A chubby forefinger pointed in the direction of the house. 'She's in there.'
Kate thanked her and walked up the path towards the front door, but her movements were jerky, and her heart was beating so hard and fast that it almost choked her. What if she had made a mistake by coming here? What if it only made matters worse? What if…?
The front door stood open, and from inside the murmur of voices reached her ears. Her finger hovered on the bell button, but she changed her mind. The element of surprise would perhaps have the best effect, she decided as she stepped inside, and her footsteps were muted on the thick pile of the carpet as she crossed the hall and walked towards what was obviously the living-room.
She paused in the doorway, and her insides jerked violently, leaving her with a sick feeling at the pit of her stomach. Rhyno stood in the centre of the modernly furnished room with his back towards the door, and Barbara was in his arms with her head pressed into his shoulder. She was murmuring something to which Rhyno grunted his obvious approval, then she raised her head, and Kate had the satisfaction of seeing her face pale considerably when their eyes met over Rhyno's shoulder.
'Kate!' she exclaimed, and her voice sounded a pitch higher than usual when Rhyno released her abruptly and swung round to face the door. He looked a little pale beneath his tan, but it could have been Kate's imagination, for there was unmistakable anger in the taut line of his jaw, and the burning intensity of his eyes sent a little shudder of fear coursing through her. There was an awkward, tense silence which seemed to last for ages, then Barbara said unsteadily, 'We didn't expect you.'
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