Shadows in the Grass

by Beverley Harper

Dallas turned suddenly cold. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Scotland, man. It’s where you’re from, isn’t it?’

  ‘How . . . What gives you that idea?’

  ‘Your name. It’s quite unusual. Gaelic, isn’t it? Grampian region, if I’m not mistaken. Small place south of Elgin. Am I right?’

  ‘You are much better informed than I, sir.’

  ‘Hardly. The accent gives you away.’

  Dallas remained silent.

  ‘Lothians, Edinburgh, I would say. Did you hear about Lady de Iongh? Terrible business.’

  ‘Lady . . .’

  ‘Come, man, the whole country knows of it. Lord Dalrymple is scarcely able to show his face.’

  Dallas felt his heart constrict.

  ‘They’re looking for his son. Young fellow, about your age. Same name. Bit of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?’ He turned to Dallas, his face hard. ‘Be aware that I’m watching you, Granger, if that is what you call yourself now. The scandal of your actions has rocked the whole of Britain. Lord de Iongh is a personal friend and your own father is known to me. I give you the benefit of any doubt because it is common gossip that Alison is, shall we say, free with her favours. A man should not be accused of such a crime if he is, in fact, innocent. My observations this evening lead me to the conclusion that you have quite an eye for the ladies. Believe me, I would not hesitate to have you arrested if, for one moment, I thought that the accusations against you were well-founded. It is only fair that you know that.’

  Dallas leaned against the railing and stared at lights along the French coastline. ‘My lord, there is no truth in the charges brought against me,’ he said softly. ‘I am guilty of nothing but stupidity.’

  ‘You are responsible for a damned sight more than that, sir,’ Lord Diamond snapped. ‘You have bedded another man’s wife.’

  Dallas dropped his head momentarily, before looking back at the older man. ‘What you say is true and I am not proud of myself. However, I am not the first to be guilty of that misdemeanour. Nor, in all likelihood, will I be the last.’

  ‘That is no excuse, sir.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Dallas agreed. ‘But she was damned hard to deny.’

  Lord Diamond puffed for a moment, then flicked his cigar stub into the waters below. ‘She’s a vixen and you were out of your depth. I daresay few your age could have said no. I trust she was worth it.’

  ‘Nothing, and no-one, is worth this much trouble,’ Dallas said bitterly.

  Lord Diamond’s tone softened slightly. ‘Put it behind you, lad. You are paying a high price and it’s no more than is fitting. However, unless I miss my guess, you do not deserve to be hanged.’

  ‘No, sir. I do not,’ Dallas agreed quietly. ‘Nor do I deserve the future I must now face.’

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion. It is mine that the suffering you have brought to Lord de Iongh should not go unpunished.’

  ‘My punishment goes further than you can imagine,’ Dallas replied, thinking of Lorna in particular. ‘However, what is done is done and now I must make the best of things. That is all I am trying to do.’

  Lord Diamond nodded. ‘We will say no more of this. Your secret is safe with me, for the moment. Goodnight, Granger.’

  ‘Goodnight, my lord.’

  Dallas stayed at the railing for some time, his thoughts swirling. He was still not safe. Would Lord Diamond keep his word? Despair settled on him like the cold night air. What bad luck that he was travelling to South Africa on the same ship as a man astute enough to have guessed his real identity. The Diamonds would disembark at Cape Town. All the more reason for Dallas to make for Durban. The further from British authority, the better.

  The cold drove him into his cabin a little after one in the morning. By then he had come to the regrettable conclusion that, tempting as the idea might be, Jette was off-limits. Dallas could not risk anything that might cause Lord Diamond to think ill of him. Commonsense applauded the wisdom of that decision. The rest of him was profoundly depressed. Avoiding Jette Petersen was the last thing his healthy young body felt like doing.

  It turned out to be easier than he expected during the next week. Jette was much in demand and, although she occasionally threw a questioning look in his direction, seemed perfectly happy with the attentions of others. Dallas remained polite and charming, but distant. He made no attempt to compete with Jeremy Hardcastle or Logan Burton, both of whom had made their interest abundantly clear. Although unintentional, the stance adopted by Dallas only served to intrigue Jette.

  On their second Friday at sea they sighted the North African coast of Morocco. That same night there was to be a dance in the games room. Jeremy Hardcastle had virtually monopolised Jette’s attention during dinner but before leaving the table she turned to Dallas and said, ‘I did not have the pleasure of dancing with you last week, Mr Granger. I do hope you are planning to rectify that this evening.’

  ‘Of course.’ On the other side of her, Dallas saw the first officer’s expression harden. He did not like the idea of sharing Jette with anybody else.

  ‘Excellent.’ Jette smiled. ‘I will save the first waltz for you.’

  There was nothing Dallas could do but accept. As he claimed her for the dance, he noticed Lord Diamond staring at him, an unreadable expression in his intelligent eyes.

  ‘You are avoiding me,’ Jette accused as soon as they swirled away. ‘Have I offended you?’

  ‘Not at all. Though you are hardly short of admirers.’

  She gave a small smile of acknowledgment. ‘Perhaps not. But I would add one more if that were possible.’

  Dallas laughed. It was quite spontaneous. He liked the Danish widow immensely, finding her candour refreshing. ‘Madam, were you not taught that greed is bad for one?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ she said gaily. ‘Such a lesson was indeed drummed into my head. But in truth, Mr Granger, I was also taught that in order to get what is wanted, it is sometimes necessary to help oneself.’

  ‘Tut!’ he chided gently. ‘You already have our dashing first officer eating out of your hand. The intrepid Mr Burton is smitten. Our two military men beg for crumbs. Even Monsieur Arnaud seems to be making a miraculous recovery. What more could you want?’

  Jette glanced up through thick lashes. ‘A woman’s wants, Mr Granger, should remain her secret. Until she is ready to share them, that is.’

  Dallas felt his heart skip a beat. Once again, Jette’s words could be taken either of two ways. ‘I am certain, madam, that any of those gentlemen would be more than willing to share a secret with you.’

  Impatience crept into her voice. ‘Most men are so obvious they bore me. But you? There is something rather . . . reserved in your manner that is both challenging and intriguing. I am a woman who hates mystery and warn you, sir, my intention is to ferret the reason from you. Will you walk with me on deck a little later?’

  Alarm bells were ringing in Dallas’s mind. He ignored them. ‘It would be my pleasure.’ He thought briefly of Lorna but pushed her memory aside. She was the past.

  After their dance Jette announced cheerfully to Jeremy Hardcastle, ‘Mr Granger has offered to see me safely to my cabin. Isn’t that sweet of him, Jeremy? I know how busy you are. Now you need not bother yourself with my well-being.’

  Hardcastle looked angry but gave a stiff bow and, a short while later, left the dance.

  When Dallas walked with Jette towards her cabin, she took his arm and said, ‘Let us stroll for a while.’

  The weather had become progressively warmer as they steamed south, grey skies giving way to clear blue. At night twinkling stars and the cloudy slash of the Milky Way seemed to sit within reach overhead. A new moon perched on the horizon, a silvery sliver of light scything through the velvet black sky.

  ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ Jette murmured. ‘I do so love Africa.’

  The air had a softness Dallas had never felt before. ‘Is Natal like this?’

  ‘Oh, much better. At night you can smell f
lowers and the damp earth, listen to crickets and frogs. It’s wonderful.’

  ‘You can do all that in Europe,’ he teased.

  ‘Tch! Where’s your sense of romance? Africa is different. Bird calls are unlike any other. You hear all manner of sounds, some quite frightening until you learn to identify them. That’s part of the magic. There’s a danger which heightens your appreciation of being alive.’ She gave a small laugh. ‘A lesson for all of us, Mr Granger. Where else can you go with the possibility that life could be snuffed out at any moment? It makes you want to live every second to the full. You’ll fall in love with Africa, I promise.’ Jette tossed her head, and hair, which she’d left loose and flowing giving her a gypsy appearance, rippled and settled softly around her face. ‘There’s a wildness, an unrestrained feeling which sets you free. Unless I’m mistaken that same wildness lurks behind your reserve, it just needs to be released.’ Her fingers tightened ever so slightly on his arm. ‘Or has someone already done that?’

  No mistake this time. ‘Perhaps,’ he murmured, bending his head towards hers to create more intimacy. ‘Although only a fool would lay claim to having nothing left to learn.’

  Jette’s laugh tinkled as she looked up at him. ‘And you are not a fool, are you, Mr Granger?’

  A reply did not make it past his lips. Jeremy Hardcastle blocked their way. Eyes blazing with jealousy, his words were harsh. ‘So, you walk with this young puppy yet refuse my earlier offer. Tell me, madam, do you enjoy humiliating others in public?’

  Jette did not resort to feminine flutters. She stood her ground and spoke plainly. ‘I’ll walk with whom I please, Mr Hardcastle. And it pleases me to walk with Mr Granger. Now, if you’ll excuse us.’

  Hardcastle did not move. ‘You led me to believe that the honour would be mine.’

  ‘No, Mr Hardcastle, I most certainly did not. You came to that conclusion on your own.’

  Jeremy Hardcastle was in a fit of jealous rage. Dallas eased Jette’s hand from his arm, hoping the man could control himself. ‘Let us pass, Hardcastle.’

  ‘That I will not, sir.’ He stepped towards Jette, a determined look on his face.

  She appeared quite unmoved but her fingers once again found Dallas’s arm.

  ‘Your attention is unwelcome, Hardcastle. The lady has made that perfectly plain. Let us proceed, there’s a good chap.’

  The first officer rounded on Dallas. ‘You dare to challenge me? Very well, I accept. The best man can take her.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. You know the rules.’ Dallas was standing directly in front of Hardcastle. ‘Leave the lady alone.’ He dodged a wickedly fast right jab and grabbed Hardcastle by the upper arms. ‘I will fight if you insist but implore that you think again.’

  The strength of his grip, steady eyes and calm voice broke through Hardcastle’s anger. He shook Dallas off. ‘Fortunately for you my position forbids me to take this matter further. Should I ever catch up with you ashore it will be a different story.’ The officer turned back to Jette and bowed. ‘Goodnight, madam. Since you prefer a boy to a man, I wish you luck. You are likely to need it.’ With that, he strode past them.

  In the soft light outside her cabin, Jette’s eyes glowed with excitement as she gazed into Dallas’s face. She reminded him of Alison de Iongh and the thought made him angry. ‘It might be wise, madam, if you place a barrier against your door. A duplicate key will be easy for Hardcastle to obtain and the man clearly cannot control his impulses.’

  She noticed his annoyance but seemed unaffected by it. ‘And you can?’ Jette challenged.

  ‘Indeed, madam. Goodnight to you.’ Before bending over her hand he caught the look of surprise on her face. She’d been playing with him, of that he had no doubt, and the game had backfired. A fleeting feeling of disappointment ran through Dallas but he hardened his resolve. Once bitten. He had no intention of becoming Jette’s plaything. She should know that he could not be trifled with. Turning away, Dallas thought of going back to the games room but decided against it. Instead, he went to his own cabin.

  As the door closed behind him, a dark figure moved from the shadows. Lord Diamond had witnessed the entire incident. Young Dalrymple had acquitted himself well. That boy is no rapist, he decided. Making his way back to the dance, Lord Diamond was deep in thought. While he could never condone the cuckolding of de Iongh, neither could he fully blame Dallas. A lad sows wild oats where he can – Diamond had planted a few in his time – and a beautiful, willing woman was damned near impossible to refuse. Tonight Granger had proved that he could control both anger and desire. There was maturity and honour in the young nobleman, traits highly prized by Diamond. Given the chance, he would do what he could to clear Dallas of the charges standing against him. He’d never restore the boy’s reputation – that damage would never completely go away – but he’d do his best. As for Jette Petersen? The Danish woman was trouble, no doubt about it. Lord Diamond was reasonably certain that she would find her way into young Granger’s bed, if not tonight, then soon. He chuckled. ‘Lucky devil!’ A night with Jette could be a truly rewarding, if somewhat exhausting, experience.

  The man was as good a judge of human nature as any. Thirty minutes after saying goodnight to Jette, Dallas heard a soft tap on his door.

  She stood looking at him for a moment, as if gauging his mood, before speaking. ‘I cannot sleep. Have I annoyed you in some way?’ She brushed past into his cabin. ‘Oh!’ Jette exclaimed, looking around. ‘This is much grander than mine.’ She sank into a chair, her eyes large in the heart-shaped face that looked up at him. ‘Please do not be angry with me. I’d like us to be friends.’ Dallas was still clothed. ‘I didn’t wake you?’

  ‘No. I was thinking of returning to the dance.’

  ‘I too thought of doing so. But Jeremy may be there.’

  ‘A word to the captain, madam, would see to it that he did not bother you again.’

  ‘Oh, I have no wish to make trouble for him.’

  ‘Why not? He was planning exactly that for you.’

  She shook her head slightly. ‘No, no. I don’t believe that. Jeremy is a little . . . impulsive perhaps, but he is a gentleman.’

  Dallas found Jette’s nearness disconcerting.

  She smiled up at him. ‘I only came here to make peace between us.’

  ‘There is no need. I was pleased to be of assistance.’

  ‘But you are angry with me. I can see it on your face.’

  ‘No, madam, you misunderstand. I was angry with Hardcastle and I am also annoyed at myself.’

  ‘At yourself!’ Her eyes widened in genuine puzzlement. ‘Why?’

  ‘You travel alone. Protection is needed.’ Dallas was acting on instinct, wary of Jette yet sure that she would only ever please herself. At least she wasn’t married, so where was the harm in taking what was offered? What could go wrong?

  ‘Does the need to protect me displease you?’ The coyness of her words could not mask the desire that throbbed in her low voice.

  ‘Not at all. I am happy to be of service.’ Dallas took a deep breath and plunged in. ‘And yet, within myself I find the same base instinct that overcame Hardcastle. Madam, I am no better than he.’

  Satisfaction gleamed in her huge dark eyes. ‘Do not trouble yourself with such thoughts, for you have proved yourself many times more honourable. You flatter me, sir, with your admiration for I am much older than you.’

  Dallas crossed the cabin and knelt by her side. ‘Your age is of no consequence. It is the woman I much admire.’

  ‘You are bold indeed, Mr Granger. Bold and direct. Allow me to be the same. I think we understand each other, do we not? Perhaps I shock you but it is not in my nature to be timid. We both want the same thing.’

  Dallas rose to his feet and held out a hand. She took it in both of hers and he pulled her up. ‘Since we are of like mind, madam, perhaps you should try calling me Dallas.’

  ‘Indeed.’ She stepped closer and wound her arms around his neck. ‘And
you should call me Jette.’

  ‘An offer not to be refused, since I have no intention of knowing you from head to toe without being able to call your name in my pleasure.’ Dallas bent his head and kissed her parted lips.

  When they broke apart Jette gave a gurgle of delight. ‘I see you are young in years only, Dallas, for your lips tell a different story.’

  Dallas picked her up and carried her to his bed. ‘It is my body, Jette, that is aching to speak to you.’

  Lord Diamond was right in every respect. By the time Jette left for her own cabin shortly before dawn, Dallas was incapable of raising a smile, let alone any other part of his anatomy. They had made love more or less continuously throughout the rest of the night. She found ways to stimulate him that he wouldn’t have believed possible. His entire body became her playground and he responded again and again to teasing fingers and lips. Her need of him had seemed insatiable and she displayed no coyness in providing Dallas with every pleasure imaginable, and then some. Leaving, she blew him a kiss, her eyes languid with satisfaction and pleasure.

  Dallas knew she was trouble. A woman like Jette could never be content with one man, no matter how much he tried to please her. Physically, emotionally and intellectually, she would always seek out the stimulation of change. For now at least, her attention was on him and, as long as that lasted, Dallas was only too happy to enjoy it. The lessons learned with Alison and the alarm bells that warned him of Jette were ignored.

  And Lorna? She was out of reach. He’d betrayed her trust and she was lost to him. Lorna would remain in his heart forever. It was all he had left of her.

  They spent two days and one night in the seaport of Casablanca. Captain Aujoulat had been right in one respect, it wasn’t much more than a fishing village. Still, the place had a distinct Arab flavour with a small mosque, narrow streets and sun-dappled courtyards. Its one and only souk displayed a disappointingly limited array of goods for sale. Yet the air vibrated with unfamiliar sounds – ironworkers and coppersmiths hammering, donkeys braying, roosters crowing, reedy music and raised voices shouting a strange foreign language. The Marie Clare’s arrival brought out the whole town. Tourism was a new concept to Casablancans but their natural inclination to barter had the Arab inhabitants offering everything from their sisters to lanterns made of silver. A scent of spices, fragrant and exotic, filled the air. Unwisely, Dallas sampled a bowl of food offered for sale by a doe-eyed boy. It was couscous with chunks of leather-tough meat, probably goat, and flavoured with mint leaves. Pungent and spicy, it burned his mouth, but with Jette’s amused urging, he finished the lot.