Rachel Lindsay - Moonlight and Magic

by Rachel Lindsay

  Again and again he kissed her, until her senses cried out that unless she could stop him, it would be too late. With all her strength she pushed against him and he released her so abruptly that she staggered back against the rail.

  'I'm sorry,' he said thickly. 'I shouldn't have done that. It's the ship… I told you it destroyed one's barriers, didn't I?'

  Without another word he strode across the deck and disappeared down one of the companionways, leaving Jane alone with the shadows and the sea and her own turbulent thoughts.

  CHAPTER SIX

  In the morning Jane found her behaviour of the night before inexplicable. Sunlight made her fears ridiculous, and she was angry that she had not told Stephen all that Claire had said. Her belief that he would guess what she felt for him was merely the outcome of her own knowledge and had nothing whatever to do with reality. Indeed, he was far more likely to suspect her emotions if she were to go on behaving in this childish way. The only possible solution was to put up a sophisticated front, to let him see that she did not care what his reason was for asking her to spend the day in Cannes with him.

  As soon as she had finished breakfast she went on deck and, ignoring the bustle around the swimming pool, settled herself in a deck-chair in the lee of a dinghy which swung in davits above her head and made an ideal shady spot.

  Hardly had she opened her magazine and started to read than a shadow fell across the page and Colin squatted on the deck beside her.

  'You know I'm keeping a place for you by the pool,' he said reproachfully. 'You've no right to hide yourself away like this.'

  She laughed. 'If I intended to hide I can assure you I'd do it more successfully. I just don't fancy sitting in the blazing sun.'

  He grunted and looked at her in such open admiration that she was uncomfortably aware of the briefness of her pink bikini.

  'When you blush you look like a strawberry,' he grinned, and leaned closer. 'I like the way you've framed your hair with that white bandage.'

  Embarrassment was forgotten in amusement. 'It's not a bandage, it's a bandeau. When I put oil on my face it stops my hair getting greasy.'

  'You don't need any oil, you're a lovely sherry colour already. It's unusual for a blonde to tan the way you do.'

  'What compliments, Colin! I can see why you've got your reputation.'

  'I hope you don't believe all you've read about me in the papers. I've settled down considerably in the last few years.'

  'Not enough to be caught, though. You're still a matrimonial catch.'

  He squinted at her in the sunlight. 'I'm glad you think so. You're quite a catch yourself.' He placed his hand on her arm and she noted with surprise how beautifully shaped it was, more like a girl's than a man's, with tapering fingers and filbert nails.

  Footsteps sounded on the deck and she tried to draw her arm away, but he refused to let go, only relaxing his grip as Claire's drawling voice came across to diem.

  'I thought I'd find you here, Colin. Have you forgotten we're in a deck quoits competition?'

  He got to his feet unconcernedly. 'I'm afraid I had. Sorry, Claire.'

  'If you don't want to play I'll find another partner.'

  Don't be silly. Of course I'll play.'

  With a smile at Jane he allowed Claire to lead him away, and she watched them go, her amusement tinged by puzzlement. For someone who professed herself to be uninterested in Colin, Claire was surprisingly possessive of him, but perhaps she was the sort of girl who was possessive of any man the moment another woman looked at him?

  'She's welcome to all the men on board,' Jane thought irritably, and concentrated on her magazine again.

  Even in the shade it was warm, and her hair clung to the back of her neck in damp curls. The sea was as smooth as satin, and the gentle movement of the ship caused no breeze. The print blurred before her eyes and she closed them and leaned her head back. The splash of water in the pool, the sound of laughter and the occasional call of a bird high in the sky magnified itself in her ears and then receded as she fell asleep.

  She awoke with a start, conscious of someone watching her and, tilting her head, saw Stephen. Quickly she sat up.

  'You startled me!' she exclaimed.

  'I'm sorry. I was going to creep away when you woke up.'

  'How long have you been here?'

  'Only a moment. Why?'

  'I hate being watched when I'm asleep. It's - it's embarrassing.'

  He laughed, his teeth gleaming white in his dark face. 'You've no need to feel embarrassed. You look far prettier asleep than most people do when they're awake.'

  He pulled up another chair and stretched out on it. 'I'm glad you're awake, though, because I want to apologize for my behaviour last night.'

  'There's no need. In fact, I was the one who behaved stupidly.'

  He shook his head. 'I shouldn't have kissed you the way I did. But you looked so sophisticated and beautiful that I forgot you're only a child.'

  'I'm not a child,' she protested, 'though I'm willing to admit I behaved childishly last night.' She did not look at him and fixed her eyes on the distant horizon. 'You were right when you accused me of ignoring you in the dining- room. I was angry with you because you - because you—'' She hesitated and then said in a rush: I know I made a fool of myself falling into the swimming-pool, but there was no need to take pity on me.'

  'Pity on you?'

  "Yes. That's why you asked me to spend the day with you in Cannes, wasn't it?'

  Hoping he would deny it, she was sad when he did nothing of the sort.

  'I suppose Claire told you,' he said slowly. 'I should have realized she would.'

  There was a long pause and Jane was intensely aware of him beside her. She longed to get up and run away, but knew that to do so would make her appear even more childish. How could she be so irrational over him? How could she, who had always prided herself on her logic and sensible attitude to men, have allowed herself to become so emotionally involved with this stranger? For that was what he was, she told herself firmly, a stranger; a man she hardly knew, with whom she had spent no more than a few brief hours. He had been extremely nice to her, but viewing it objectively she saw he had done no more than any man would have done in similar circumstances - befriended a lonely little heiress who had made a fool of herself. He regarded her as a member of his own circle - albeit a young one - and as such had tried to help her.

  She could not help wondering what his attitude would have been if the real Janey Belton had been here instead of herself, for Janey would have needed no befriending, no helping hand. Perpetually surrounded by luxury and cosseted by wealth, Janey had the belief that the world was her oyster, a belief that only someone in her position could have. With bitterness Jane acknowledged that it took more than the donning of clothes and the assuming of a name to bridge the gap between one social sphere and another.

  'You can't blame me because of my reasons for asking you out yesterday.'

  Stephen's voice broke into her reverie with such abruptness that she started visibly and her magazine fell to the floor. He bent to pick it up and placed it on her lap, remaining in the half-turned position so that he was looking at her.

  'I came on this cruise because I was ordered to, not because I wanted to. My one intention was to be alone, and that seemed thwarted when I kept bumping into a silly little blonde. I had heard a great deal about her and I was quite sure I wouldn't like her, yet strangely enough I found her charming and exceedingly entertaining.' His thin mouth quirked in a smile and then straightened as if he realized that to laugh now might be misconstrued. 'Certainly I asked you out because I was sorry for you. Any man worthy of the name would be sorry for a girl who made a spectacle of herself. But you can't blame me because my invitation was prompted by sympathy. And anyway, if I hadn't felt sympathy I'd never have had the courage to ask you out.'

  She was surprised at his use of such a word. 'Why would it require courage?'

  'Because you're only nineteen. I'
m almost old enough to be your father.'

  With a superhuman effort she restrained herself from telling him her real age.

  'You're only thirty-five,' she said. 'There's no reason to talk as if you're Methuselah.'

  Thanks,' he said gruffly. 'But age isn't always a question of years. Sometimes I feel so old and tired that I don't think I'll ever be able to enjoy anything again. When a man starts to think along those lines there are three courses open to him: work until he drops, drink until he's insensible or—' he hesitated '—or fall for a girl who's still young enough to feel the joy of life.' He pushed back his chair with a violent gesture and stood up, blotting out the sun. 'The problem is, Jane, that the first two courses don't appeal to me. Even if I wanted to work any more I can't I've been warned to take it easy for the next few months, not to talk or think about business, and not even to look at a damned newspaper! As to drink…' he shrugged, 'I'm not the type. So that only leaves the third solution.'

  She stared at him, not seeing any tenderness in his face, only a look of anger that he should find himself in this position. If ever a man did not want to be upset by his own emotions that man was Stephen Drake. Unwittingly she had, in some miraculous way, managed to infiltrate behind the wall he had built around himself, and he was hating her for it Excitement welled in her, causing her body to tremble, her palms to grow damp. She did not know what to say and intuitively knew that to say nothing would be best.

  'Come and sit down, Stephen.' Her voice was light and controlled, as if they had only been discussing the weather. 'You look tired, and it isn't good for you to stand in the sun.'

  He sank down on his chair again and closed his eyes. A muscle at the side of his face was throbbing and beneath his tan the colour had drained from his face. There was no doubt that the doctors were right when they had ordered him to rest, for this scene between them had exhausted him. She longed to put out her hand and touch him, but knew that such a gesture would be unwelcome; for the moment she must allow any gesture to come from him. Fear and happiness warred within her, and the need to tell him the truth about herself was so strong that she could not bear it any longer.

  'Stephen, I—'

  'Excuse me, but would you be Miss Belton?' She turned sharply and saw a steward behind her, a blue and white envelope in his hand.

  'Yes, I'm Janey Belton.'

  'This cable has just come for you, miss.'

  Handing her the envelope, he walked away, and Jane opened it quickly and read the message:

  'man recovered consciousness few minutes only but no further information stop have learned person in question booked at last moment stop look for names not on passenger list stop loving father cedric.'

  Jane crumpled the telegram and, walking over to the rail, threw it overboard, watching the blue and white paper bob on the waves until it flattened out and disappeared.

  'Look on the passenger list.' But there was no need for her to do that, for she knew the person who had decided to come on the cruise at the last moment. Not only knew him but loved him. She swung round and looked at the recumbent figure a few yards away from her. 'Stephen,' she whispered. 'It can't be Stephen.'

  Unsteadily she returned to her chair and sat down. It was impossible. What need would he have to steal the Lorenz Diamond, or to involve himself in any of the other robberies that had taken place? It could not be lack of money. Yet why else would he steal? Unbidden, the memory of one of their, earlier conversations returned to her mind. 'The only thing that makes life worth living is the danger in it, the knowledge that it's you against everyone else, the knowledge that you can lose everything by one mistake.'

  Could it be possible that Stephen, satiated with power, feeling there was no competitor his equal, had decided to pit his wits against Scotland Yard? It was so ridiculous an idea that she dismissed it from her mind. Love was making her fanciful. The only reason Stephen had boarded the ship at the last minute was because he had not wanted to come at all. There was no criminal reason behind it, no secret motivation other than a dislike of doing nothing for weeks on end; though from the look of him lying so pale and still beside her, if he had not followed his doctors' orders he would have collapsed. The strain of controlling an empire was too much for a man who knew himself to be alone, even if his loneliness was of his own making.

  Beside her Stephen stirred. 'I must have fallen asleep. I'm sorry, Jane.'

  'That's all right. You shouldn't get so het up about things. It's bad for you.'

  'You sound like my doctors!' he laughed. 'I hope you're not going to start fussing over me?'

  'Never. You're old enough to look after yourself.'

  'You're not.' His gaze was contemplative. 'I'm surprised your father let you come away alone. A pretty girl shouldn't be allowed out without a chaperone.'

  Nervously Jane wondered whether any news had leaked out of Janey's friendship with Ted Wills.

  'I wouldn't let myself have a chaperone, thanks, Victoria's been dead a long time! Anyway, I'm used to being on my own.'

  'Is your mother dead?' he asked gently.

  'Yes.' Jane remembered her own mother and was overwhelmed with sadness. 'She died when I was fourteen. It's a bad age to lose a mother, particularly for a girl.'

  'Any time's a bad age to lose a mother,' he said. 'I'm approaching senility, yet I'd hate to think of losing mine. You'll like my mother, Jane,' he said with a change of tone. 'She's an inveterate globetrotter, though, and I never know where she's going to be from one month to the next.'

  'I'd like to meet her,' Jane said eagerly.

  'I'll fix it up when we get back. I suppose you're staying on the ship all the time, are you?'

  'Why, yes. I didn't know one could do anything else.'

  'Some of the passengers are leaving at Athens. I intended to do the same, but I'm not sine now whether I will.'

  Again there was a scowl on his face and again she said nothing. Getting Stephen to fall in love with her had been an accident, a happy stroke of fate, but getting him to admit it and accept it would require all her skill and feminine wiles.

  She stood up. 'I'll go and change. It's nearly time for lunch.'

  'What about meeeting me in the bar for a drink?'

  'Do you think I'm old enough for more than orange juice?'

  'From the subtle way you're handling me,' he said gruffly, 'I've a good mind to offer you Pernod!'

  She was still smiling at his remark when she entered her cabin and changed into a green sundress. Her face was shiny, but she left it that way, only colouring her mouth with vivid coral lipstick that matched her nails. Short nails they were, broken by the typewriter, the fingers blunt and capable; not the hands of an heiress, she thought disconcertedly, and closed the cabin door behind her.

  The bar was on the top deck next to the ballroom. One wall was made of glass and afforded a magnificent view of the horizon. Sitting on the scarlet and orange leather seats, one had the impression of riding the waves alone. As usual every seat was occupied and the noise overwhelming as she entered and looked round for Stephen. Disconcerted, she saw that he was sitting next to Colin and Claire, and she walked over to him.

  Jane had been pleased with her appearance until now, but looking at the other girl she conceded the smartness of silk trews and shirt in matching scarlet, the waist banded by a wide black sash with long, fringed ends.

  'She makes me feel as though I should be wearing broderie anglaise and baby talcum powder!* Jane thought crossly, and seeing the waiter hovering next to her defiantly ordered a Campari soda.

  Stephen looked surprised. 'It's rather a bitter drink.'

  'I prefer it to milk,' Jane said, annoyed as he saw him grin.

  Colin coughed and proffered a packet of cigarettes. 'You'll be delighted to hear that we won our game of quoits. Claire's a dab hand at throwing the ring.'

  'It's about time I tried to catch one,' Claire drawled. 'Seeing girls like Janey growing up makes me feel my age.'

  'Come off it.' There was
coldness in Colin's precise voice. 'A girl these days isn't old at twenty-seven.'

  'A girl's as old as her experience.'

  Listening to the conversation, Jane wondered whether there was more to it than appeared on the surface, for there was a raggedness in Claire's voice that spoke of ill-controlled temper. Could she really be worried that she was unmarried? She looked so beautiful with her glossy dark hair and pale madonna-like face that Jane dismissed the thought as ridiculous.

  Claire leaned forward and picked up her drink, a mint frappe. Her hands curved round the glass and a heavy gold coin bracelet on one wrist clicked against the table.

  'How lovely that is,' Jane exclaimed. 'I've always wanted a coin bracelet.'

  'My father used to collect them,' Claire shrugged, 'and when he died my mother let me have these.'

  Jane's scalp prickled with excitement. The noise of the people around her receded and her own thoughts seemed so loud that she was afraid lest they became audible.

  'Can I have a look at the bracelet?' she asked casually.

  Claire held out her hand and Jane examined the coins. Some were the size of shillings, some the size of half- crowns. Many of them were embossed and one or two inlaid with jewels, but there was none with an 'L', and Jane sat back in her seat. It had been a childish hope anyway. The criminal she was looking for would certainly not be a woman.

  'I didn't know you were keen on coins,' Stephen said to her. 'I've a pretty good collection myself.'

  'You have?' Jane's heart thumped. She wanted him to continue, yet was afraid of what he might say if he did.

  'It's a hobby of mine,' he went on. 'At least it began as a hobby, but now it's almost an investment.'