'I'm not sure I like that. I thought artists were always supposed to paint what they see and feel.'
'Also what they know,' he said quietly.
She moved back a step and squinted at the portrait. 'There's not much about me to know. My life's an open book.'
'Not even a few pages stuck together?'
She laughed. 'That's a crazy thing to say. I've got no secrets from you.'
'I should hope not.' He pulled her into his arms. 'Are you really pleased with it?'
'It's swell.' She looked beyond his shoulder to the painting. 'The only criticism I can make is that I never wore a dress as low as that. You really used an artist's licence there. Couldn't you paint a frill or something?'
'A frill?' he roared. 'A frill, when it took me days to get the colour of your skin? I'll be blowed if I'll hide it with a frill!' His eyes rested on her throat. 'You have a lovely skin, Carolyn, soft and pink. I'm only sorry I had to paint in the curve of your breasts from imagination.'
She turned scarlet. 'Don't try and embarrass me, you won't succeed.'
'No?' His hands pressed against her waist and then slowly moved up the front of her bodice to undo the buttons of her blouse. Carolyn closed her eyes and suffered his touch. It was gentle and soft and almost against her will a faint stirring of excitement quickened her pulses. She swayed against him and his hands grew harder.
'When are you going to marry me?' he whispered passionately. 'I want you, Carolyn. I'm mad with wanting you.'
'Are you sure, Derek?'
'Never more sure of anything in my life. There's no reason for us to wait now Piotr's better.'
She buried her face in his shoulder. 'Perhaps after Christmas. As soon as Jeffrey and Ella are married.'
'Promise?'
'I promise,' she said slowly.
He pulled her close and his lips were warm and moist on hers, his beard soft against her skin. It was a penetrating kiss that demanded a response and for an instant, as she remembered Alvin, she struggled against him. But he was strong and determined, and with a half audible sigh she wound her arms round his neck and closed her eyes. Perhaps after all it would be possible to find forgetfulness in this man's arms.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
With Christmas approaching, Royston Manor was a hive of activity. The warm aroma of baking seeped through the house and mingled with the smell of wax polish and furniture cream. Carolyn ordered boxes of Christmas crackers and decorations from London and they arrived in large cartons to stand in the hall.
'You're letting yourself go, aren't you?' Jeffrey asked two weeks before Christmas. 'Are you hoping to celebrate the success of my musical?'
'Have they fixed the date?'
"Yes. I heard definitely this morning. The ninth of January's the big day, so get yourself a party dress.' He pointed to the cartons. 'When are you going to hang all this stuff up?'
'Right now, if you'll give me a hand.'
'Can't,' he said regretfully. 'The office awaits me. Boy, I can't wait to give it up. This show's got to be a success, Carolyn. It means everything to me.'
'I'm sure it will.'
He squeezed her arm. 'You're a nice little thing. I wish you weren't…'.He stopped, shook his head and walked out.
Carolyn sighed. She knew he had been going to comment on her engagement to Derek. Poor Derek! No one seemed to like him and they certainly made it obvious when he came to the house. When she was married it would have to be different; she would insist on that. She undid a cardboard box, took out a handful of streamers and ran upstairs to Piotr's room. He was perched on the edge of the bed swinging his leg with Margaret watching.
'How are you this morning, baby?'
'Fine. When can I come down for good?'
'In a couple of weeks.' She showed him the streamers. 'Look at these. I'm going to hang them all over the house.'
'Oh, Caro, can I help? I'll be ever so careful on the ladder.'
She laughed. 'The only ladders you can climb are in snakes and ladders!'
'But can't I even watch?' the little boy begged.
'We'll see. Perhaps you can lie on the drawing-room couch and make some paper chains for me.'
'Goodie, goodie!' Piotr flung his arms around her and Carolyn hugged him close. His skin was damp and she looked at him critically.
'Do you feel O.K., honey?'
'Sure. I just get a pain in my tummy off and on.'
Carolyn looked at Margaret and the woman shook her head. 'It's nothing. He'll be better when he can have some exercise.'
Carolyn picked Piotr up in her arms. 'I'll take you down with me right now and we can get busy.'
'He should really stay in bed this morning,' Margaret protested.
'I don't see why. It won't do him any harm to lie downstairs.'
Carefully Carolyn carried her stepson to the drawing-room. A bright fire burned in the grate and she settled him on the settee with a mound of coloured streamers. Betty had placed the ladder in readiness and she dragged it over to the wall, picked up a hammer and some drawing pins and mounted the steps. She worked busily and after half an hour the room began to take on a more colourful appearance. Red and blue paper chains festooned the walls and silver tinsel draped the mirror and the side lights.
'Why not put some above the curtains?' Piotr asked.
'A good idea, but I'll have to climb on to the top step to reach.'
Panting, she carried the ladder across the room. The windows were high Victorian ones and the velour curtains that draped them were drab and heavy.
'These can sure do with some brightening.'
She mounted the steps with a small box of coloured baubles and carefully began to pin them across the pelmet It was a difficult task and her arms were stretched to breaking point. She paused for a moment to wipe her forehead and as she half turned her head. She heard footsteps cross the hall. They were light and swift.
'Is that you, Ella?' she called. 'I'm here, in the drawing- room.'
The door opened and Alvin came in. Carolyn trembled and held tightly to the curtain.
'If you've called for Jeffrey,' she said, 'he's already left.'
'I know. He forgot some papers and telephoned me to collect them.'
'That was daring of him!'
'Very.' Alvin's voice was expressionless. "With the approach of his musical he's presumably no longer afraid of me!'
'What a blow to your pride!' She picked up the hammer from the top step, but she was trembling so much that it slipped from her fingers and fell with a clatter on the parquet. Alvin came across and picked it up.
'You wouldn't be afraid of me be any chance, would you?' he asked as he handed it back to her.
'Why should I be afraid of you? You can't harm me.'
'I wouldn't be too sure of that. There's danger in becoming too complacent, Carolyn.'
'What's complacent?' Piotr called.
Alvin swung round. 'It means when you're smug.'
'What's smug?'
Alvin's mouth quirked. 'Do you know, I think you've got me stumped there.'
'Smug,' Carolyn said loudly, 'is what your Uncle Alvin is.'
'Do you mean stinking rich?'
'Piotr! What a thing to say!'
'Margaret does.'
'Then Margaret should know better.' Annoyed with herself for changing colour, Carolyn began to fix the baubles on the curtain again.
'Are you decorating your house for Christmas?' Piotr asked Alvin.
'No, I'm spending it in London.'
'Then you can't come to our party. Caro's invited fifty children and they'll be staying here a whole week.'
Carolyn pretended not to hear the conversation, but she was conscious of Alvin back towards her.
'Is this true?' he asked. 'Or is Piotr letting his imagination run away with him?'
'It's perfectly true, but not fifty children, only twenty. They're from a home in Chichester. You'll miss a lot of fun, but I daresay you've better things to do.'
'If the p
ast could be completely undone there's a great deal I'd like to do.'
'Oh, you and the past,' she said impatiently. 'Why don't you look to the future?'
'We can't all be opportunists!'
Angrily she lifted a paper frill and stood on the topmost step. Her awareness of Alvin's proximity made her movements jerky and she stretched out and grabbed the pelmet. Sharply she tapped a drawing-pin into the fabric; the hammer missed the pin and hit her nail.
'Damn!' She jerked back; her foot slipped and she came crashing down into Alvin's arms. She could feel him shudder at the impact, but he barely moved his ground and only by the quickness of his breathing did she guess that she must have hurt him.
'I'm sorry,' she gasped. 'I missed my footing.'
'I didn't think you'd fall on top of me for any other reason!' She struggled to free herself, but he held her tightly. 'Haven't you any regrets?' he whispered. 'If you had the past six months to live over again would you do the same?'
She saw Piotr staring at them curiously and pulled away from Alvin. 'Of course I would. Exactly the same.'
'Lord!' he said passionately. 'How can such beauty and innocence hide so much deceit?'
'Deceit about what?' she asked. 'I don't understand you, Alvin. Every time we meet you fling accusations at me and never explain them. What have I done?'
'You ask me that?' He moved away abruptly. 'If I were in my right senses I'd never speak to you again!'
'Well, don't! Leave me alone!'
"You'd like me to do that, wouldn't you?' he said forcibly. 'But I'm damned if I will I I'm going to show you up if it's the last thing I do!'
'If you're still harping on Peter———— ' She stopped as Betty came in.
'It's your chauffeur, Mr. Tyssen. He says Mrs. Anderson is finding it cold in the car.'
'I'm coming right away.' He moved over to the couch. Have a nice Christmas, Piotr, and don't eat too many sweets.'
Without a backward glance at Carolyn he left the room.
Try as she might Carolyn could make no sense of her conversation with Alvin. Surely he still did not think her a gold- digger? Jeffrey and Mrs. Nichols no longer believed it and Ella never even had. Yet Alvin continued to insinuate that she was deceitful and calculating! Ella might be right when she said that Rosemary had deeply hurt her brother's pride. Indeed, from his behaviour it seemed as though he had still not recovered from the effect of being jilted. Perhaps this was his way of hitting back?
Later that afternoon she asked Mrs. Nichols whether she thought this could be the reason for Alvin's behaviour. 'And don't pretend you haven't noticed the way he acts towards me,' she added. 'It sticks out a mile.'
'I know. But I can't understand it myself.'
'But even you don't believe I married Peter because I knew Piotr was going to inherit some money.'
'Perhaps I see you from a less biased point of view.'
'But what's he got to be biased about?' Carolyn asked. 'I didn't take Rosemary away from him.'
'I know. But you've got charge of her son.'
It was an aspect Carolyn had not considered. Yet even while she did so, she dismissed it. If what Mrs. Nichols had said was true, Alvin would have showed it in his behaviour to Piotr. But though he hadn't been with the little boy very much, on the few occasions when he had, he had acted kindly and gently. In fact, surprisingly so.
'It can't be because of Piotr,' she said.
'Why worry about it? He means nothing in your life.'
'You can say that again! I think he's an insufferable bore.'
Mrs. Nichols lit a cigarette. 'You know, Carolyn, pride can be an awful thing. I wouldn't like to think it would make you do something… something silly.'
'Such as?'
There was a long moment of silence before Mrs. Nichols spoke. 'Such as marrying Derek,' she said finally.
Carolyn leaned forward. 'Why don't you like him?'
'I don't dislike him. I just don't think he's the man for you. And as for his sister…'
'It's probably your dislike of Margaret that's colouring your opinion of him.'
'Perhaps. He's a personable man with a lot of charm, but he's weak and his sister's got the upper hand.'
'You're wrong there. He just humours her because she's been ill.'
'I don't believe it,' Mrs. Nichols said flatly. 'Tell me one occasion when he's disagreed with her. Why, he knows very well you don't want her here, yet he's never asked her to go.'
'I've already talked to him about her,' Carolyn said loyally, 'and she'll be leaving as soon as Piotr's better.'
'Thank goodness for that.' Mrs. Nichols flicked the ash into the fire. 'I hear you almost obliterated Alvin this morning?'
'Who told you?'
'Piotr, of course.' His grandmother chuckled. 'With a great deal of dramatic embellishments. He also said there was someone waiting in the car for him.'
'Yes. Romaine Anderson. It looks as if she's getting what she wants.' Carolyn could not keep the scorn out of her voice. 'Derek's painting her portrait and I guess she's used that fact to move in on Alvin permanently.'
'Not according to Ella. He only gave her permission to stay at the house while Derek needed her every day.' She smiled. 'And I gather he's already regretting that.'
'He'll be caught and trussed up in matrimony before he knows where he is.'
Mrs. Nichols laughed. 'Perhaps Romaine deserves him! She's worked hard enough.
Abruptly Carolyn stood up, afraid that if she continued to talk about Alvin she would give her true feelings away. 'I think I'll go and bath Piotr. I said I would.'
'Braving Margaret's wrath?'
'You said it!'
Carolyn ran upstairs. Piotr was not in his nursery or bedroom and with some annoyance she heard his laugh coming from the bathroom. She had distinctly told Margaret she would put him to bed tonight, yet the woman had deliberately ignored her wishes. Without bothering to knock she pushed open the door and went in. Margaret was kneeling on the floor.
'I didn't think you were coming up, Carolyn, or I'd have waited.'
'It's only half-past five.'
'Oh dear, my watch must be fast'
Piotr slid to the bottom of the bath. I'm learning to swim.'
'That's wonderful, darling. Show me.'
He slid forward. 'I'm crossing the Atlantic, and going quicker than the boats.'
'Why not the Channel?'
'That's not so big, and the Atlantic's colder.'
Margaret leaned forward, pulled out the plug and hoisted Piotr out of the bath.
'Come along, young man. It's time you were dried. If you'll wait in the bedroom, Carolyn, we'll be in in a minute.'
'That's all right,' Carolyn said easily, 'I'll wait here.' She sat on the edge of the bath, knocking a toy duck into the water as she did so.
'My duck!' Piotr screamed. 'Pull him out or he'll drown!'
'Ducks like water,' Margaret said tartly. 'Stop screaming.'
Carolyn bent to lift the duck and her fingers touched the bath water. She withdrew them quickly. 'Gee, the water's like ice. You couldn't have put much hot in.'
'Piotr doesn't like it too warm.'
'Yes, I do,' Piotr said, 'but you told me only sissies have it hot'
Margaret's sallow face reddened. 'I've never known a child argue as much as this one.'
'I like a kid with spirit,' Carolyn said. She slipped to her knees and began to rub him dry. 'I'll put him to bed, Margaret.'
'There's his temperature to take and—— '
'I know. Do I have to keep on reminding you that I'm a nurse?'
Margaret closed the door sharply behind her.
'When is she going?' Piotr whispered. 'I want you to look after me.'
'I will, honey. Just wait until after Christmas. Isn't Margaret kind to you?'
'She's very kind,' the little boy said seriously, 'and she's going to tell Cook off for sending such small dinners. Do you know I only had a tiny piece of meat and a potato for lunch today?'
'Don't tell fibs, Piotr. I'm sure Cook sent up more.'
'She didn't. That's why Margaret had to give me some medicine to stop me feeling hungry.'
Carolyn buttoned on his pyjamas and bundled him out of the bathroom and into bed.
'I'll have a word with Cook,' she promised, 'and see to your dinners myself. In a couple of weeks there'll just be the two of us here.'
Piotr held her close. 'I love you, Caro.'
'I love you too!'
She switched off the light, watched him settle down and then left the room.
Christmas was a family affair. The twenty orphans arrived at lunchtime on Christmas Eve and though two assistants came with them Margaret took control into her capable hands.
It was not until the evening, when all the children were in bed, that Carolyn started to put all the presents beneath the huge fir tree that sparkled in one corner of the drawing-room. It had not been any problem to buy gifts for everyone, and for the first time Carolyn appreciated having plenty of money. Gone was the need to plan her shopping list with one eye on the budget; whatever she wanted she had bought.
All the children, including Piotr, would get a toy and a constructive game, while for Mrs. Nichols and Ella and Margaret she had bought gold brooches and for Jeffrey a portable stereo record player. Derek's present had been the only one she had found difficult to decide on, and it had come to her forcibly how little she knew of his tastes. She had finally taken the easy way out, and had bought a triple set of artist's oil colours.
As she started arranging the gaily wrapped gifts beneath the tree, Ella came over to help her. These days she looked a different person. Knowing Jeffrey loved her had given her an inner glow reflected not only on her face but also in her manner; she was less retiring, more confident in giving an opinion and able to make jokes and participate fully in the conversation.
'It's a good thing you've got Margaret to help you with the children,' she said as she knelt on the floor beside Carolyn. 'She certainly knows how to keep them in order.' 'Too much so,' Carolyn replied. 'I think she's too strict.'
'Make sure she doesn't live with you when you're married. She'd be the worst possible kind of mother-in-law!'
It was so difficult to talk about her marriage to Derek that she deliberately changed the subject. 'Have you decided where you're going for your honeymoon yet? Last time I asked Jeffrey he said Blackpool Tower!'
Rachel Lindsay - Mask of Gold Page 18
