Rachel Lindsay - Moonlight and Magic

by Rachel Lindsay

Janey giggled, and instantly the vision was brought down to earth. Giving Jane a wink, she waited with her father as the bridesmaids left for the church in their Rolls.

  It was not until she entered the church and heard the organ pealing out the solemn strains of the bridal march that she was able to relax; for the first time in many weeks experiencing a feeling of peace. It was as if her unhappiness became insignificant in this atmosphere of reverence. The indefinable odour of a church compounded of waxed wood, flowers and freshly polished brass filled her nostrils and she breathed deeply, the trembling flowers in her hands becoming still.

  Slowly the ceremony went on, the minister's voice booming in sepulchral tones as he led the young couple to the altar. Jane stepped forward to take the bride's bouquet, cradling it carefully until it was time to enter the vestry. Here in the small crowded room the legalities of the ceremony were completed, and then, in a flurry of hugs and kisses and the triumphant notes of Mendelssohn's march, they walked down the aisle.

  Now Jane was able to see everyone clearly, as the bride made her slow, triumphal progress down the nave. In the shadow of one of the pillars she saw Bob, his usually smiling face strained and embarrassed. The corners of her mouth quirked with amusement. Like most men he found weddings a strain!

  There was still a slight smile on her mouth as she took the last few steps and she was almost at the door before she noticed the man standing at the back of the church, holding himself aloof from the crowds. Their eyes met, hers dilated with fear, his narrow, probing. She trembled so violently that she was unable to walk, and the three little bridesmaids bumped against her. It was only their proximity that urged her into motion again, and keeping her head averted she walked out.

  What was Stephen Drake doing here? Had Janey invited him in the hope that it might heal the breach between them? If so it had been ridiculous thing to do. And what must Bob think? Though he had never questioned her about Stephen she knew he was aware of her feelings for the man.

  As she drove back to the Beltons' house anger overcame dismay, giving her the necessary impetus to get through the next hour. The wedding breakfast seemed never-ending, and though she was unable to eat any of the sumptuous food, she drank two glasses of champagne. The sharp and painful outlines of reality became blurred, softening her attitude to Bob, making it easy for her to smile at him, to let him hold her hand.

  'You look so beautiful,' he murmured. 'I wish you'd let me take care of you.'

  'You're doing very well,' she said, tilting her glass at him. 'I don't want anything more, thanks.'

  'I wasn't thinking about food and drink!'

  'Please, Bob, don't.' She sipped her champagne, wrinkling her nose at the bubbles. 'I don't want to talk seriously about anything at the moment. This is Janey's wedding, remember? Let's just think about her.'

  'Why not just think about weddings?'

  She shook her head, and with a sigh he picked up his own glass. 'Did you see Stephen Drake in church?' he asked.

  She nodded. 'I was surprised Janey invited him. Is Claire Saunders here too?'

  'Not as far as I know. Though if he came with her it would explain the invitation.'

  'If you want an explanation,' Jane said lightly. 'Stephen's coming over to us now.'

  She watched him approach, only her sudden instinctive movement towards Bob indicating that she was not inwardly as calm as she outwardly appeared. How handsome he looked in his grey jacket and stiff white shirt, its very formality heightening his air of detachment. Not that there was anything very detached in his expression, for he seemed anxious, a flush on his cheekbones, his mouth not quite steady.

  'Hello, Stephen,' she said lightly. 'Bob and I were just talking about you. I don't think you remember Bob, do you?'

  She effected the introductions and the two men looked at one another warily.

  'Bob Foster,' Stephen echoed the name. 'Are you connected with Foster's Agency?'

  Bob nodded, and Stephen looked from him to Jane.

  Intercepting the look, Bob put his hand on her arm. 'Jane works for me, though I'm trying to persuade her to do it in a less professional capacity!'

  'Bob, don't,' Jane said quickly. 'I'm sure Stephen isn't interested in our affairs.'

  'But I am,' Stephen intervened. 'Extremely interested. Would I be precipitate in offering my congratulations?'

  Pride would not let Jane say no, but honesty would not let her say yes, and she prevaricated by raising her glass to her lips and allowing Bob to answer for her.

  'A bit precipitate, I'm afraid. Jane's not an easy girl to persuade. But I'm hoping.'

  'Aren't we all?' Stephen said, and with an abrupt movement turned away. Jane watched him disappear through the crowd, longing to run after him, to fling herself into his arms and beg him to tell her that he still loved her.

  'But he never loved me,' she told herself fiercely. 'Never, never.'

  The control she had kept upon herself was in danger of breaking, the champagne gaiety threatening to dissolve beneath the weight of her depression.

  'Would you like to sit down?' Bob said in her ear, and without waiting for an answer pushed her into a chair that had just become vacant. 'What about another drink?'

  She shook her head. 'I'll be all right in a minute. It's just the heat and the excitement.'

  'And Stephen Drake.' His voice was low. 'Don't pretend with me, Jane. Stephen's the reason, isn't he?'

  'The reason?'

  'For turning me down. You fell in love with him on the cruise. I knew that when I saw the way he behaved at the Savoy. No man would have been so offhand with you unless he was fighting himself. What went wrong?'

  'Nothing. Please, Bob, I don't want to talk about it. It was just the unexpectedness of seeing him that upset me. I'll be all right soon.'

  She closed her eyes, but felt no relief. Her meeting with Stephen made her realize the futility of contemplating a future with Bob. As long as the sight of him could make her feel this way she had no chance of happiness with another man. The only solution was one she had been putting off for the last month: another country. Perhaps when they were oceans apart she would be able to make a new life for herself.

  People milled around her, and conversation and laughter echoed loud in her ears. It became suddenly too much for her to bear and she stood up and thrust her glass into Bob's hands. 'Do you mind if I leave you for a bit? I must get away from this.'

  'If you want a shoulder to lean on I'm still willing to oblige.'

  'Leaning won't help. I've got to work this out alone.'

  'Alone?' He caught her hand. 'You don't really mean alone, do you, Jane?'

  'Yes, Bob, I do. I'm not the right girl for you, and it's wrong of me to pretend I ever can be.'

  'You can,' he said softly. 'But will you?'

  She shook her head and, touching his cheek with a shaking hand, slipped through the crowds and across the lawn. Lightfooted, she sped over the grass, through the formal rose gardens and down to the less cultivated part of the grounds. It was very beautiful here with flowers growing rough in the grass and a small brook bubbling over its bed of pebbles. A wooden seat stood beside a weeping willow and she sat down on it, her skirts falling around her in a pink cloud, her blonde hair falling forward to hide her face as she bent her head.

  For a long while she sat beside the water, gaining peace from its incessant movement. A breeze began to play among the leaves, rustling them and lifting the edges of the chiffon around her feet. In the far distance she could hear the occasional hum of a car and knew that she would have to return to the house to say goodbye to Janey before she left on her honeymoon.

  How disappointed her friend would be that her invitation to Stephen had not done what she had hoped. Jane stirred and reached for her handbag. She opened her compact and carefully smoothed powder underneath her eyes, making sure the tears had not blurred her mascara.

  'I wouldn't worry about the way you look,' a deep voice said behind her. With automatic gestures she closed
the compact and put it back into her handbag before raising her head and looking at Stephen, who was standing a few yards away.

  'I didn't know you were here.'

  'I've been looking for you,' he replied. 'I must have gone through every room in that damned house.'

  'You were clever to find me.'

  'I'd have found you, no matter where you were,' he said roughly. 'I've got to talk to you.'

  'We've nothing to say to each other.'

  'You mightn't have anything to say to me, but I've a lot to say to you!' He strode over and looked as though he wanted to pull her to her feet, but thought better of it.

  'First of all I owe you an apology for misjudging you. If you hadn't hurt my pride I'd never have acted the way I did. It was a shock finding out you didn't have the courage to tell me who you were and—'

  'It wasn't a question of courage,' she interrupted. 'I'd promised my father.'

  'I realized that when Janey—'

  'When Janey…? Do you mean she's been to see you?'

  "Yes. She came a few days ago. I wanted to see you at once, but she made me promise to wait until today. She wanted to feel that we'd come together cm her wedding day.' His voice died, but he came close and caught her hands. 'Will you forgive me, Jane?'

  She tilted her head and looked into his face, loving him more dearly at this moment than at any time before, yet knowing that no matter how she loved him they had no future together.

  'Of course I'll forgive you, Stephen.'

  'Thank God for that Oh, my darling —'

  'No, don't call me that.' She pulled her hands away from his and moved back. 'Because I forgive you it doesn't mean things can be the same between us.'

  'But why not? You're not in love with Foster, are you?'

  'I don't change my affections as quickly as that. And I don't think you can change so quickly either. You doubted me, Stephen, and that hurts me very much. You didn't believe in me until Janey had been to see you, but what did she say to make you change your mind? Did she tell you I was still pining for you? That I wasn't interested in your money? Did she—'

  'Stop it,' he said sharply. 'Janey only came to tell me what a swine I was! In the course of the conversation she also happened to mention Colin and the Lorenz Diamond.' Stephen's voice was heavy with anguish. 'Don't you understand what I'm trying to tell you? I didn't know the truth until I'd spoken to her.'

  'What did you have to know, Stephen?' she said contemptuously. 'Couldn't you trust your heart? I told you once before that you can't have a real relationship without trust and understanding. You knew why I was nice to Colin, why I was in his cabin that night, and yet you still didn't believe in me, you still had to wait for Janey to come and make you see reason. Well, if that's the sort of love you can offer I don't want it. I don't want it,' she reiterated.

  'You've got it all wrong.' He strode over to her, his hands heavy on her shoulders, the vein in his forehead pulsing as it always did when he was moved. 'Do you think I was waiting for someone to make me see reason? Do you think I'm the sort of man who would never admit when he was wrong?'

  'Look how long it's taken you. Months! That night in the Savoy you treated me as if I were a stranger.'

  'I didn't know about Colin then! That night at the Savoy I still believed everything I'd said to you on the ship.'

  She looked at him in amazement, and his eyes looked directly into hers.

  'I left the ship the moment we docked at Athens,' he said, 'and went to stay on one of the islands with a friend of mine. I was in a damnable state of nerves. You did some pretty drastic things to me, Jane, and when I left the ship I was as near to a breakdown as I've ever been in my life. I realized the truth of what my doctors had been telling me: I'd no emotional reserves to draw on and would collapse in a crisis. Well, you were the crisis and I did collapse. I lived on the island for three weeks, and in all that time I never saw a newspaper, never listened to a radio and was completely incommunicado with the paper. By the time I returned to England the Waterman affair was dead. Damn it, Jane, you know there's nothing more dead than yesterday's news, and that's how it was with Colin.'

  'Didn't Frank Preston tell you anything?'

  'Why would he talk about you? Particularly since I'd cabled to him the morning I left the ship to give you six months' salary.'

  'I see. And of course he assumed you were so annoyed about my masquerading as the Belton heiress that you never wanted to talk about me again.'

  He nodded, the pressure of his hands relaxing but his fingers still warm on her skin.

  Though she longed to believe him, there was something else she had to know. 'Didn't Claire say anything to you? I know you've been seeing her a great deal.'

  'I'e been seeing a lot of women a great deal,' he said roughly. 'But none of it helped. They only made it worse because I kept comparing them with you.' The pressure of his hands was heavier again. 'Claire never said a word about Colin and I didn't see any reason to mention him either.'

  'You know why she didn't tell you, don't you?'

  For the first time humour lightened his face. 'At the risk of appearing conceited I must confess that I do. She knew it would take very little for me to come running after you. My God, Jane, you don't know how near I've been to doing it. Even if Janey hadn't told me the truth I'd have come to find you. In fact, I'd already asked Preston for your address.'

  She longed to believe him, yet found it difficult, and seeing her doubt, he sighed. 'Ask Janey. When she came into my office I'd just scribbled your address down on my pad. In fact the first thing I asked her when she came in was where I could find you that day.'

  He pulled her closer, her pink chiffon skirts brushing against his leg. 'We've wasted so much time, don't let's waste any more. There's a lot we've got to talk about, but it can wait until later. Now there's only one thing I want to do, and that's hold you in my arms like this' - his body was warm against hers - 'and kiss you like this.' His mouth touched her own, their breath mingling. 'The last time I held you in my arms I behaved like —'

  'Don't let's talk about that either!'

  She put her arms round his neck and caressed his hair and the side of his face. Their kiss was long and deep but tender - the kiss a man gives to the woman who means the ultimate in his life, whom he wants to share not only his passion but his love.

  She was the first to draw back, smoothing her hair, wiping away a tear.

  'How will you like being Mrs Stephen Drake?' he asked her huskily. 'I won't let you go on working, Jane. I want to look after you and protect you.'

  'And I want to look after you,' she said, and knew a longing to give him all the love and understanding he lacked.

  Stephen caught her hand and raised it to his lips, then close together they walked across the lawn towards the house, stopping behind a flowering shrub that hid them from the crowded terrace.

  'This is going to be for ever, Jane,' he said quietly. 'From now on your work is going to be me.'

  'From now on my life is going to be you,' she corrected, and felt his arms come around her again, his face blotting out the sky and the sun.

  'Oh, Stephen,' she said, and as his lips came down on hers she was enveloped in a happiness that could never be penetrated, never be dissolved.