by Jane Corrie
They had moved on a few paces from the shop when Sylvia suddenly said, 'Wait here, I won't be a moment,' and disappeared into the jewellery shop they had been looking at a moment ago.
Cassy had a nasty feeling that she knew what Sylvia's intention was. It was more or less obvious by the way she had made them walk away from the shop, and then slipped back on her own. Only too well did she know her penchant for doing something on the spur of the moment, and this time Cassy was sure she was about to buy something for her, as she could not envisage her buying their escort any such gift.
Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Sylvia joined them and thrust a little package into her hand. 'I couldn't resist buying them for you, Cassy,' she said happily. 'I know you don't often wear earrings, but these are the same orange colour you're so fond of.'
Highly embarrassed, Cassy wanted to slap Sylvia for her thoughtlessness. She had entirely forgotten that they were supposed to be at loggerheads with one another, and even if a temporary truce had been called, one did not buy such gifts for someone one considered a traitor.
There was another side to consider, of course, and one that had not occurred to Cassy, but that had definitely occurred to Justin Pride, and it was not long before she was acquainted with this fact.
`Shopping over?' queried Justin, with one eyebrow
raised in query at Sylvia after she rejoined them, and received a firm nod from both girls, but a more emphatic one from Cassy. 'Good, well, we'll start with the tour. I think we'll take in the Queen's Staircase next. I expect you've heard of that?' he asked, yet his query was more confined to Sylvia than to Cassy, and she wasn't sure whether it was her imagination or not, but she sensed a kind of reserve behind his quick glance in her direction, that might have been there earlier, but if so, she had failed to detect it.
At this thought she felt a surge of resentment flow through her. Whatever she was supposed to have done, it was none of his business. Judging from what Sylvia had told her about his way of life, he was hardly in a position to judge, was he? she asked herself furiously. The sooner this tour was over, the better, she told herself, and no matter what Sylvia had in mind for future tours, if they included this man then she would cry off. They could always pretend that they had had another row, couldn't they?
They walked along Bay Street, and turned into an avenue called Elizabeth Avenue, and across another street, and eventually found themselves in a cool section of the city. The way to the Queen's Staircase was along a pathway cut out of sheer rock, as was the staircase itself.
On either side of them loomed the steep sides of the solid rock limestone from which sprouted ferns of a light emerald green, and relieved the otherwise grim face of the reddish-brown stone. At the sides of the path grew palm trees and other plants, making the whole scene represent an oasis in the middle of the thriving city. Yet even here the straw sellers had their
markets, and several stalls were set up at the side of the toad.
The bright colours of their wares gave a carnival atmosphere to the proceedings, and a gaily painted landau, drawn by a horse decked out with what looked like a spray of flowers on his head, completed the scene. 'Shall I see if he's hired?' asked Justin. 'We could finish the rest of this afternoon's tour with him, if you like.'
However, before the driver could be approached another party of tourists beat them to it. 'Oh, never mind, Justin,' said Sylvia. To be honest, I'd rather walk—well, as far as we can, anyway, wouldn't you, Cassy?' she asked, and received an absentminded nod from Cassy who was staring up at the steps ahead of them. Sixty-five in all, and carved out of the rocks by slaves, and Sylvia, following her glance, shivered. `Who said, "the good old days"?' she queried, and turned to Justin. 'They're called the Queen's Steps after Queen Victoria, aren't they? Something to do with the abolition of slavery, wasn't it?' she asked him
Justin smiled at her. 'I see you've been doing your homework,' he said. 'Yes, that's so, but the steps were originally carved to give the garrison troops a quick getaway from Fincastle Fort. We'll take a look at the fort next. These are not the original steps, by the way, as you can see they have since been replaced.'
As they neared the steps, a small waterfall was seen at one side of the steps, and seeing Cassy's eyes lingering on it, Justin remarked, 'It shows up much better at night, they floodlight it.'
They ascended the steps and several times had to move swiftly aside to avoid getting in the way of the
numerous camera shots that were being taken by other tourists from the top of the steps, and also from the bottom.
`No cameras?' quizzed Justin, as they once again moved aside to avoid ruining a picture.
`I've left mine at the hotel,' wailed Sylvia. 'Still, I expect we can always come back again at some other time,' she added hopefully, and looked at Cassy.
Cassy however, was not yet ready to commit herself on any further tours, be it a revisit to the one they were now taking, or any other tour, not unless they went on their own, and in that case she had no objection.
When they arrived at the top of the steps, they stopped to admire the view of the cool passageway through the rocks that they had just walked through, and Sylvia, who had moved aside from them in order to get a better view, found herself approached by a couple of American tourists who asked if she would mind taking a snap of them on the steps, and she cheerfully obliged, taking not only one, but several, in different poses with the Queen's Staircase in the background for the grateful couple.
Cassy and Justin stood aside and watched the proceedings, Justin with an indulgent air, and Cassy with a slightly worried one, for she hoped Sylvia had remembered to include the heads of the couple in the snaps as well as the feet, having had some experience of such catastrophes in the past with Sylvia' s enthusiastic if not very brilliant photography.
`Is it going to be worth it?' asked Justin, in a low voice that only Cassy could hear, and she was jerked out of her musings with a start as she tried to work
out whether he was referring to Sylvia's photographic efforts or to some other matter, and she was left in no doubt when he added, 'Surely there are other ways of making your fortune without hurting someone who's as fond of you as she is.' He did not look at her as he said this, but at Sylvia, still happily engrossed in her voluntary task.
Cassy stared at him, then blinked as the full implication of what he was saying hit her. She drew in a deep breath before she answered, 'I fail to see what it's got to do with you—and I have no intention of discussing our private business with a stranger,' she added haughtily, wanting to shout out at him that it wasn't her fault if he had been stupid enough to believe the story Sylvia had told him.
`I might be a stranger now,' he said, still in that low yet penetrating voice, 'but you're going to know me pretty well before you leave—I can promise you that,' he threatened.
Sylvia joined them before Cassy could reply to this extremely provocative statement, and this was just as well since she was having a hard time believing the evidence of her own ears, and could have been forgiven for thinking she had imagined the whole episode. One thing she was certain of, and that was that she would make certain that she was never alone with this man again, even if it meant chaining Sylvia to her side for the rest of the tour!
CHAPTER FOUR
CASSY listened to the short history lesson being given by Justin Pride on the small fort they were now looking at, and found great difficulty in keeping her mind on the salient facts being pointed out. Afterwards, all she could recall was the lovely view from the fort to the bay beyond, and a glimpse of several luxury liners anchored there.
'Like the other two forts around the city,' went on Justin's voice breaking into her musings, 'not one of those cannons was ever used. The threatened invasion never took place.'
All this Cassy heard, without any of the narration really penetrating her thoughts. He could have been giving a lecture on some kind of Swiss cheese for all the attention he was getting from Cassy, and her
eyes remained fixed on, the panorama before her.
Although her eyes rested on the blue of the bay and the delta-like ridges on which bright greenery grew, and on to the elegant lines of the luxury ships, her whole being was centred on the short but highly charged interchange she had had with the man now answering Sylvia's questions.
It was as well for Cassy that Sylvia was taking an interest, and she did not know what she would have done if Sylvia had directed any attention back to her, but fortunately she had noticed nothing unusual in Cassy's reticence.
Above the natural resentment she felt at the man's unasked-for intervention, not to mention the charge he had laid at her door, of her seeming selfishness in obtaining her goal regardless of Sylvia' s feelings, she knew a deep sense of hurt that anyone could accuse her of such machinations. She had been made to feel a thief stealing a slice of fortune that rightly belonged to someone else, and it was of no avail reminding herself that she was a victim of Sylvia's fertile imagination. Had her accuser been anyone else but this censorious male, she doubted if the farcical situation would have affected her in quite this way.
Her feelings were so acute at this point that she was very much inclined to enlighten him as to the true state of affairs, and only just prevented herself from doing so on the thought that it was, after all, a selfish wish on her part, and although Sylvia had done a stupid thing, she had to concede that she had been partly responsible in forcing her to take such an action.
She drew an inward sigh of frustration at the thought that none of this would have happened if she had not been so taken up with her own affairs, and had not let the kennels take precedence over all else, including Sylvia's unhappiness at the sort of life she was leading. She straightened her shoulders. Well, she would have to put up with the consequences now, it was the least she could do, and why she should let this autocratic specimen's opinion influence her like this, she did not know.
Her brooding eyes left the scene in front of her and rested on Justin as he smiled at something Sylvia had said, and she noted how white his strong even teeth were against his deep tan. Oh, he was attractive, all
right, and she could imagine his success with the opposite sex; they would positively hang on to his every word—as much, she thought sardonically, as Sylvia was doing at that very moment, even though she had no idea that she was behaving like a moonstruck female —such was the man's attraction. It might also, she admitted unwillingly to herself, be the reason why she so wanted him to look kindly on her, and not look on her as a kind of parasite that had latched itself on to the money waggon.
The thought somewhat shook her, and she firmed her lips together. It was not like her to be taken in by a handsome face, it was what was behind the façade that mattered, not what was on the surface. At this point her brooding eyes met his, and brought home his astounding prophecy of her getting to know him better before she left the island. To her utter consternation, she felt herself flush under the gaze of those relentless eyes of his, and wished the ground would open up and swallow her.
`Next stop, the Water Tower,' he said, as he shepherded the girls down the short flight of steps that led to the fort, and Cassy wished miserably that she could somehow lose herself among the jostling crowd ascending and descending the same steps.
For the rest of that afternoon's tour Cassy might just as well have been back at the hotel for all the notice she took of the remainder of the tour. Seeing yet not seeing the wonderful panoramic view from the top of the Tower that overlooked the whole island, she promised herself grimly that she would come again, as she felt a spurt of resentment against the man who had so
successfully ruined what might have been a wonderful start to her island holiday.
When at last a halt was called, and a suggestion of going back to the hotel for tea was made by Justin, Cassy tried to come up with an excuse as to why she should not accompany them back to their hotel, but could not think of a good enough one, apart from being blatantly honest and declaring that she had had enough of Justin Pride's company for one day, and she had to go along with the suggestion, but her moody blue eyes said more than words when they met the challenging grey ones of the cause of her discomfort.
There was, however, just one tiny consolation, and that was that the afternoon's tour was over, and she could in all justification leave after tea and return to her own hotel, where, she pronaised herself fervently, she would stay for the rest of the day. If Sylvia was going to be on her own for dinner, and this was quite likely, she thought, as she was sure the extremely busy Justin Pride would have his own plan of amusement for the evening's 'entertainment, then she would suggest Sylvia come over to her hotel for dinner.
With this firm resolution in mind, it was disconcerting for Cassy to find that she was given no choice in the matter whatsoever, and her planned retreat was quite definitely baulked. Her attempt at a hasty departure directly after tea, with a, 'Well, I must get back to my hotel. I haven't unpacked properly yet,' met with an equally casual, 'We'll pick you up at eight,' from Justin, who had stood up when Cassy had, fully intending to run her back to her hotel.
The thought of even that short ride in his company was more than Cassy was prepared to take, and
she assured him that she could get a taxi, there were plenty to be had. With that hurdle out of the way, she made a stand against the next one, and excused herself from whatever Justin had in mind for that evening. 'I think threesomes are boring, don't you?' she remarked lightly to him, with a look that told him that she would prefer to be on her own, but she need not have bothered !
`Oh, that's no problem,' he answered, in the tone of voice that told her that she was on a losing streak. `We'll make it a foursome,' making Cassy want to hurl the cream jug at him. His added rider of, 'Evening dress, by the way,' increased her resentment of him, but did give her a ray of hope.
`Then you'll have to excuse me,' she said triumphantly, 'I've no such garments with me.'
`Oh, you can wear one of mine,' broke in the ever helpful Sylvia, for which she received a baleful glance from Cassy. 'We're the same size, aren't we?' she went on, quite unperturbed by the look Cassy sent her. 'The white one will suit you—you know the one I mean,' she added confidently, and a fuming Cassy had to accept the situation.
The dress Sylvia had so kindly lent Cassy was of a fine lacelike material with an underskirt of silk, and very definitely suited Cassy's chestnut colouring, although she was totally unaware of this as she gave herself a last-minute check in the mirror before going down to the lounge to await the threatened collection.
Her deep blue eyes flicked unemotionally over her reflection, noting how the line of the dress clung intimately to her figure, and how, even though she was about an inch taller than Sylvia, it nicely covered her
ankles, leaving her ample space for either walking or dancing. As to the latter, she could wriggle her hips and beat time to the music, which appeared to be all that was required in the modern fashion, but as far as the actual art of dancing went, she didn't have a clue. Cassy had never had cause to regret this state of affairs before, but it certainly would have been a help if she could dance, for it might have been one way of releasing her from Justin Pride's company—always assuming her partner, whoever he was, was of an energetic nature.
A glance at her watch told her that it was time she put in an appearance in the lounge, and she picked up the white lace shawl Sylvia had thoughtfully provided her with to go with the dress, collected her handbag, and after locking her door, made her way down to the lounge.
Any hope she might have harboured that there might have been a change of plan, or that Sylvia had a headache and had cried off, or that Justin Pride's august presence was required elsewhere, were quickly dashed by the tall form of the man himself as he unfolded his long lean length out of the chair he had accommodated to await her arrival.
Cassy took her time in walking towards him, feeling very unsure of herself, and the flutter she felt in her heart region was purely
and simply nerves, she assured herself stoutly, although she had thought him handsome before, but now, dressed in full evening regalia, he was outstanding. That she was not the only one of this opinion was borne out by the stir of interest from a group of women at the end of the lounge, either waiting for their menfolk to desert the bar and join
them, or out for an evening on their own.
Her veiled eyes gave none of her thoughts away as he casually caught her elbow in an action that spoke of possessiveness as they walked out of the lounge and out of the hotel to the waiting car without a word being spoken. In spite of Cassy's determination not to be overawed by this man's presence, she felt a spurt of feminine pride as she caught the wistful looks sent in their direction from the other women.
By now night had fallen. Sunset, to Cassy's surprise, had been around seven-thirty, which was early by English time standards. When they reached the car Cassy, seeing Sylvia sitting in the back of the car, started to join her, but Justin directed her to the front seat beside him, and for a moment she hesitated before complying, then as she took her seat she found that the space beside Sylvia was occupied by a young man who leaned forward with a greeting to her.
As she returned the greeting, Cassy felt slightly foolish, but it was not her fault that his dark evening suit had concealed his presence. She did wonder, however, why he was sitting in the back with Sylvia when he was supposed to be her date for the evening.
'This is Greg Storn, Cassy,' said Sylvia, introducing them. `He's going to teach me to play golf, so I'll know what's what,' she added lightly on an amused note.
Unfortunately Cassy could derive no amusement from this news, since she was beginning to develop a very unwelcome premonition as to who her partner was going to be for that evening, and by the time they had arrived at the Bridge Inn, the hotel Justin had chosen to take them for dinner, she had the answer !
