Jane spent Saturday morning in her room, reading and trying to figure out how to get through the weekend. There was the usual sound of splashing and laughter from the pool. When there was a knock on her door, Jane assumed it was Mrs. Armitage come to enquire whether she would have a luncheon tray in her room. She called out, "Come in," and was surprised to see, when the door opened, Simon standing in the doorway. Her heart turned over as she looked at him and realized how drawn and unhappy he looked. Jane had been stretched out on the chaise tongue and she started to get up.
"No, please, don't let me disturb you," Simon said.
He walked over to the window and stood looking out, his back to her. His voice was so low that Jane had to strain to hear his words. "I know how difficult this last week has been for you," he said, "and I appreciate the help you have given me in getting through it."
"But Simon, I haven't done anything," Jane answered, sincerely.
"You've been here, that's the important thing. Now, I've come to ask another favour. I've asked Mrs. Armitage to serve lunch around the pool. I will have to put in an appearance and it would help me immensely if you would come."
Jane answered quickly, "Of course, Simon."
He turned then and came towards her, pulling her to her feet and then taking her into his arms. He stood there quietly holding her, as he had that first day when she returned from Toronto. There was no passion in his embrace and Jane had the strange feeling, as she had on that other occasion, that he was somehow drawing strength from her. Finally he let her go, and turning towards the door, said simply, "Lunch is at one o'clock," and going out he closed the door softly behind him. Jane stood looking at the closed door, her heart racing. The old Simon, passionate and demanding, was something she could understand. This new Simon, with the puzzling air of defeat about him, was something that she didn't know how to cope with.
When Jane arrived at the poolside at one o'clock, in her black bathing suit, everyone was already assembled and Mrs. Armitage was handing around cocktails. She flashed a harried smile at Jane as she offered a tray containing martinis. Mona. was stretched out in a lounge chair, David was sitting on the patio at her feet and the rest of the group, quiet for once, sat in chairs or loungers around the pool, sipping their drinks. Except Simon, who paced up and down, his drink in his hand on the far side of the pool. When Jane appeared, David got up and shouted to her, "You've got to get that suit wet, Jane. Come on. I'll race you to the end of the pool."
Now everyone was watching her and Jane felt terribly shy, but remembering Simon's plea, she decided that the best thing to do was to appear natural, so she put her glass down on the nearest table and said, "You're on." It was no contest. David was an expert swimmer and he soon left Jane far behind. They emerged from the pool dripping and laughing. They made an attractive picture, both golden-haired and glowing. The others smiled, except Mona and Simon who glowered at them both. Jane, as she glanced at them, felt like crying. Mona she could understand, but she couldn't understand Simon's obvious displeasure. After all, she was only doing what he had asked her to do.
Conversation during lunch was desultory. It was still a little early in the day for the "group," as Jane had come to call them to herself, to reach their usual boisterous high spirits.
As they were drinking their coffee, Mrs. Armitage appeared at the patio door. "Excuse me, Mr. Wade. There's a telephone call for you." Simon muttered an excuse and left the table. He returned a short time later, frowning slightly. He turned to Jane. "That was John Baxter. It seems our guests ran into Daphne at the Culloden Inn last night and were invited to the Baxter house this afternoon for riding and cocktails. He just wanted to be sure that they had passed the invitation on to you and I."
Mona's tinkling laugh rang out. "Darling, of course I meant to invite you… later," and she glanced obliquely at Jane. The implication was obvious. Simon would have been invited, but not Jane.
Jane flushed, but she spoke up quickly. "I hope you will thank John for me, but I couldn't possibly accept. I haven't ridden in years and even then it was only two or three occasions."
Simon looked at her meaningfully, "I have already accepted on your behalf. You don't have to ride, if you'd rather not, but I would appreciate it if you would at least come."
His meaning was clear and Jane could do nothing else but accept, especially when she remembered Simon's words in her bedroom that morning. She murmured quietly, "Very well then, of course I will come."
After lunch they all dispersed to change for the afternoon. Jane had no idea what she should wear, but since it was to be an afternoon of riding she decided that she really had no choice. Her jeans were the only appropriate thing that she had in her wardrobe. She also remembered that whenever she had seen Daphne, she had always been wearing jeans. She added a madras cotton blouse and tied her hair back with a matching scarf.
When they gathered in the parking area, Jane was glad to see that everyone was dressed very casually. They all wore jeans with the exception of Anna, Mona's secretary, who wore a pair of shapeless woolen slacks, topped by a flowered blouse. She was loudly assuring everyone that no one was going to get her on a horse. Then Mona appeared in faultlessly tailored riding breeches topped by a white silk blouse that had been left almost completely unbuttoned. As if it had been prearranged, she walked over to Simon's Jaguar and got in.
David approached Jane and made a deep bow, "Madam, your chariot awaits," and he gestured towards the Rolls Royce. Jane had assumed that it was Mona's car, and she asked in surprise, "Oh, David, is that yours?"
"I'm afraid so," he laughed. "I admit it's a little ostentatious, but cars are my weakness, cars and beautiful blondes."
Jane laughed. "I never thought I would ride in a Rolls Royce."
"Then come along. After this, who knows what else you may do that you never thought you would."
Simon had been standing next to the silver Jaguar, and when he saw Jane and David walking towards the Rolls, he jumped in the car beside Mona and roared down the driveway in a cloud of dust.
Driving with David in the Rolls was quite different from driving with Simon in the Jaguar. David maintained a stately pace, "In keeping," he explained, "with the dignity of the car."
When they pulled up in front of the colonial mansion, John Baxter was waiting to greet them. He stood on the porch talking to Simon and a short distance away, Mona and Daphne were deep in conversation. Daphne, when she saw Jane getting out of the Rolls with David, shot her a look of pure venom. Simon was also frowning, but John Baxter came down the steps, his hand outstretched. "Jane, how good to see you again. You must introduce me to this astute young man who delivered you in the way you deserve."
Jane laughed and made the introductions. With David on one side of her and John on the other she suddenly felt confident enough to brave the open hostility displayed by Mona and Daphne. Simon was another matter. Her heart ached at his obvious displeasure with her.
Bill and Anna had arrived and after further introductions, they moved inside. This time John didn't take them into his private study, but into a huge, high-ceilinged drawing room, decorated starkly in the very latest style. The deep piled rug was a bright orange and the white walls were adorned with modern paintings, most of which consisted of splashes of colour on a white background, framed in chrome. There was a great deal of chrome and glass everywhere. A huge round coffee table in the centre of the room was of glass and chrome, as were all of the side tables. Lamps were chrome globes of various sizes. The furniture in the room consisted of several conversation areas made up of modular pieces arranged in different geometric designs. Scattered about the room were columns of glass supporting metal sculptures. There were no drapes on the tall, narrow windows. "By heaven," David said, in an awed voice.
John sighed, "I know David, it's dreadful, isn't it? But Daphne did the decorating and she and her friends seem to like it. I don't come into this room, not if I can help it, anyway."
David said quickly, "Oh, but I
didn't mean…"
But John broke in. "It's all right, my boy. I agree with you completely."
A small bar, again of chrome and glass, filled one corner of the room. It was manned by an elderly servant in a white coat. John invited his guests to give their orders to the bar man and soon most of them were clustered in that corner. John put his hand on Jane's arm. "Did you really like that drink I made for you the last time you were here—the Starboard Light? Could I make you another?"
Jane smiled at him, "Oh, yes, please John."
As he hurried off to make her drink Jane was left alone, but only for a moment. Suddenly Simon was in front of her, looking down into her face with a brooding expression. Jane caught her breath. It was incredible that just being this close to him sent her heart racing. She looked up at him pleadingly, "Simon, I don't know why you're angry with me, but please, don't be."
She could see the struggle going on within him; she could see it in the changing expression of those deep, piercing blue eyes as they held her gaze. Finally, he smiled a little and reached out and touched her arm. His reply was disjointed, "I'm not angry, Jane. It's just… I know I have no right… but, I can't seem to get five minutes alone with you anymore…" His eyes darkened again, "And you seem to be having a hell of a good time with that matinee idol."
Jane put her hand over his and laughed, "Simon, he's just a nice boy, and they won't be here forever, you know."
At that moment, John returned with her drink, and seeing Simon without one he said, "Simon, I'm sorry. I thought you had been looked after. Get yourself a drink, won't you?"
Without a word Simon left them. John looked around the room doubtfully. "I would ask you to sit down, but I don't trust those fool chairs. I'm sure if I go down into one of them I'd never get up. Let's go out to the conservatory. It's the only part of this room I like." French doors at the end of the room led to a glass-enclosed room full of lush tropical greenery. John led Jane to a comfortable wicker couch, covered in chintz. "Thank heaven Daphne left this room alone, although I guess there isn't much you can do with a conservatory," he laughed. Then he suddenly became serious, and turning towards Jane he said, "My dear, I've been worried about you since I heard that Mona had returned. Has it been difficult for you?"
Jane felt her throat tighten and her eyes clouded with tears. She thought she had gotten over that weakness that had plagued her after her father's death, but this man was so like him—his concern, his tenderness and gentle kindness. They left her feeling very vulnerable and yet very safe. She knew that if she ever needed help, John Baxter would be there.
She made a feeble attempt to smile. "Oh well, our work goes on much as it did before. I guess it is a little distracting, especially to Simon who needs solitude in order to write…" And her voice trailed off.
"I wasn't speaking so much of that. I know Mona. She can be a very cruel woman and I can't see her tolerating a rival."
Jane flushed, and said quickly, "A rival?"
John reached over and patted her hand. "Come, come, my dear, I've seen you and Simon together. I may be getting along in years, but I can still recognize what I see in your eyes when you look at each other, and although Simon and Mona are divorced, she isn't the kind of woman to give a man up easily, even a man for whom she has no further feeling."
Before Jane could answer, Daphne appeared in the doorway, a drink in her hand. "Daddy, are we going riding today?"
John sprang to his feet, looking almost guilty. "Of course, my dear. I must change. Perhaps Miss Sullivan would like to freshen up. Can I leave her in your hands?"
Daphne's smile was strangely angelic as she looked at Jane. "Of course, Daddy," she answered.
Jane followed Daphne back into the drawing room, where they were joined by Mona and Anna. Daphne led the way to a door opening off the main entrance hall which proved to be a small powder room exquisitely fitted in pale green marble and gold. Anna continued to assure them that she didn't intend to go near the stables, but would spend her afternoon in the drawing room keeping the bartender busy.
"But you'll come won't you, Jane?" Daphne asked sweetly. "Even if you don't want to ride, I'm sure you'd enjoy seeing the horses."
Jane was amazed at the sudden change in Daphne's attitude, but was more than willing to meet her halfway.
"Yes, of course I'll come," she said, smiling at the younger girl, "and if you can find a quiet old horse, I might even try riding."
She was looking in the mirror, combing her hair as she answered Daphne and she thought she caught a quick exchange of glances between Daphne and Mona, but then she told herself that she was imagining things.
"Well, let's go then," said Daphne briskly. "I'm not standing around all afternoon waiting for the men to tear themselves away from the bar."
"Are you sure you won't change your mind, Anna?" Mona asked her secretary.
"Never," Anna answered, and left them to return to the drawing room and the bar.
The three women crowded into Daphne's car and she drove off at her usual excessive speed in the direction of the barns. Jane couldn't help wondering why they were in such a great hurry to reach the barns before the rest of the party.
Daphne was out of the car almost before it came to a stop and called to a groom who was standing in the doorway of the barn.
"Sam, saddle up Lightning right away, please."
"Lightning? Are you sure miss?" the groom asked in surprise.
"Do what you're told and don't ask questions," Daphne answered him sharply.
The name Lightning rang a bell in Jane's mind. Wasn't that similar to the name of the horse that John Baxter had been riding the day she first met him? But Daphne turned to Jane with a smile. "Poor old Lightning doesn't get called upon very often. She's a little tame for an experienced rider, but I'm sure you'll get along just fine with her."
When the groom led the horse out, Jane could almost swear that it was the same horse that John had been riding that Saturday afternoon, but then she told herself that she must be mistaken. Daphne would never let her ride a horse that skittish, when she knew how inexperienced a rider she was.
The groom held the horse still while Jane mounted and at that moment, the Jaguar, with Simon driving and John Baxter sitting next to him, turned into the lane leading to the barns. Jane had one glimpse of the shock on both of their faces and then Lightning bolted, around the side of the barn and across the fields.
The rest of that ride would always be a blur to her. She tried desperately to remember what she had been taught about riding in those long ago days when she had ridden as a child. Her instinct told her simply to hold on as best she could. She had no idea how long it lasted, it seemed like an eternity. Then, to her horror she saw a fence ahead of them, a fence that the frightened horse was evidently determined to jump, and then there was nothing, just an impenetrable darkness pressing down on her, holding her in a grip like a vise.
The next thing that Jane was aware of was pain, an oppressive pain in her head and a diffuse aching that seemed to permeate her whole body. As she struggled to open her eyes, strange pictures danced before them, like the flickerings of a faulty T.V. set. For a moment she saw a strange man in a business suit bending over her, then a glimpse of John's face, tenderness and concern in his eyes. Then nothingness again. She had no idea how much time had elapsed before she made her way again, like a swimmer pushing herself, straining towards consciousness. The picture this time was more in focus. It was Simon, seated by the side of the bed, his dark head leaning on his hands, his elbows resting on the side of the bed. She must have made some sound, some movement, because suddenly he looked up, and when she saw the haggard, drawn face, the tortured look in the brilliant blue eyes and realized that the suffering he was undergoing was because of her, her own eyes filled with tears. "Oh, darling," he said brokenly, "are you in pain?"
She tried to shake her head to reassure him, but found that she hadn't the strength. Instead, she struggled to form words and finally was able to whi
sper, "Simon… I'm all right." He took her hand and held it against his face. She could hardly bear the intensity of his eyes as they seemed to devour her face.
"Don't try to talk," he said. "Rest now. I'll be right here beside you." She found her eyes closing again, hard as she tried to keep them open, and she drifted off again, this time into a deep sleep.
When Jane awoke again feeling much more normal, although the aching of her body and the pain in her head persisted, she saw that Simon indeed was still there beside her, fast asleep, his head resting on the bed. She could not resist the impulse—she reached out and stroked his crisp, black hair. He stirred then and sat up, rubbing the side of his neck, his eyes still closed. Then, he must have realized where he was and his eyes opened. They searched her face and then he smiled that slow, delighted smile that always tugged at her heart. "Well, you look better this morning. How do you feel?"
"I'm not sure," she answered doubtfully. "What happened to me?"
"You were thrown. It seems you have a concussion and a few bruises, which is the least you deserve. Whatever possessed you to insist on riding Heat Lightning?" His voice had become stern.
Jane was puzzled by the question. She was still not able to think very quickly, but finally it penetrated that Daphne and Mona must have told everyone that it was her idea to ride Heat Lightning. She made a quick decision. Nothing would be gained now by challenging their statement. She shrugged, "Just showing off, I guess."
"Oh, Jane," he said, and the pain in his voice was almost more than she could bear. "You could have been killed."
Again quick tears sprang to her eyes and she turned her head away from him to hide them. Just then there was a quiet knock on the door and John Baxter entered. When he saw that Jane was awake, he smiled. "Well, I see our patient is better this morning. Simon, you should go and get some rest. I've had one of the guest rooms prepared for you. I'll stay with Jane until the doctor comes."
Summer Storm Page 10
