Enemy in Camp

by Janet Dailey

  When she opened it she saw Penny sprawled across the bed on her stomach, her face buried in the neck of a stuffed elephant. Her waist-length blond hair was fanned across her shoulders and arms, trembling like a golden silk curtain in a strong breeze as the young body heaved in wracking sobs. Penny was at such a sensitive age when feelings could be hurt so easily. Only this time they had been stomped on. Victoria moved toward the bed, her heart wringing in sympathy…and guilt because of the unwitting part she had played.

  "Penny, I'm sorry," she murmured.

  A blotched, tear-drenched face was lifted from the furry hide of the stuffed toy. "Go away!" Penny pushed the long strands of hair from the corner of her mouth, choking on the sobs that wouldn't stop. "I don't want you here!"

  "I didn't mean to hurt you, Penny." Victoria knew the words were inadequate, but she wanted to comfort her young sister somehow. "It's the last thing I would do intentionally."

  "You don't care!" Penny accused. "Neither do I because I hate you! I hate you!" Those words hurt, even though they were issued in the heat of unbearable pain. Unable to stop the tears Penny hid her face again in the toy elephant.

  "Penny—" Victoria tried again.

  "Go away!" Penny hurled the elephant in her direction, then wrapped her arms around a stuffed giraffe, part of her menagerie of toy animals that adorned the room, and hugged it tightly, shielding her face behind its slim neck.

  Her aim was poor and the elephant missed Victoria by a foot. It was a second before she realized that she hadn't heard it hit the floor behind her. She turned and Dirk was standing inside the room, holding the stuffed animal he'd caught.

  "What are you doing here?" she hissed under her breath, "Penny doesn't want to see you."

  "I am exactly the person she wants to see," he corrected. "It's my apology she wants, not yours." He stepped out of the doorway to the bathroom so Victoria could leave.

  "I'm staying," she insisted, continuing to speak in the low undertone as he had done.

  Tossing the elephant in the corner, Dirk caught at her hand and pulled her toward the door. When she was level with him, he took hold of her shoulders and pushed her toward the bathroom.

  "No, you aren't. Penny and I are going to talk this out in private," he stated. "Since we aren't going to be able to have that shower together, you might as well take yours now and get cleaned up for dinner."

  He gave her a little shove into the bathroom and turned to the girl on the bed whose sobs had drowned out their muted conversation. But Victoria didn't immediately follow his orders. Instead, she stood in the bathroom and watched as Dirk walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it. His hand reached out to stroke the back of Penny's head.

  "Hey, golden girl," he murmured softly.

  Penny's muffled reply was a hurt, "How could you?"

  "Broken hearts hurt, don't they?" Dirk smiled as he gently turned the sobbing girl on her side.

  Victoria watched Penny look up at him. Her sister's chin quivered, then her arms were reaching out for him and Dirk gathered her into the comforting circle. The stuffed animals were forsaken in favor of crying on the hard pillow of his chest. Strangely it didn't make Victoria feel better that Dirk was the one who was able to comfort her sister when her efforts had failed. She closed the bathroom door to Penny's room and locked it.

  In her bedroom, she mulled over her confusing reaction. It wasn't jealousy. Was it envy? Did she wish that Dirk would be that gentle with her, comforting her, instead of turning her world topsy-turvy with his kisses? Laying out a pair of white slacks and a slate gray velour top, Victoria took her robe and entered the bathroom.

  There were only muted sounds from Penny's room, indistinguishable. They were soon drowned out by the water rushing from the shower spray. It wasn't the most relaxing shower Victoria had ever taken. Every time she closed her eyes she kept imagining Dirk standing beneath the jets of water with her. The pelting spray reminded her flesh of how it had tingled under his caressing hands, awakening yearnings that until now had been easily controlled.

  Her stomach was tied in knots when she stepped out of the shower. With the faucets turned off there was a murmur of voices from the adjoining bedroom, both Dirk's and Penny's. She heard Penny blow her nose, which obviously meant the crying was over. Victoria found such irony in the situation. A touch, a soft word from Dirk and Penny found solace. Yet those same two things set her afire with an entirely different result.

  Entering her bedroom, she shut the door to the bathroom to keep out the faint sounds coming from Penny's room. She didn't want to be tempted to eavesdrop. Victoria dressed swiftly and applied only a minimum of makeup. As she left her room she hesitated and glanced at her sister's door. After another second's indecision, she walked over and tried the door knob. It was still locked.

  She bit at her lips and rapped lightly on the door. "Penny?"

  There was a long pause before her sister managed a husky answer. "Yes."

  Now what? "W-will you be coming down for dinner?" Two sets of footsteps began climbing the stairs. Victoria turned to see her parents come into view.

  "Yes, Penny will have dinner with us." It was Dirk who answered for her sister, his raised voice carrying easily through the closed door.

  An eyebrow arched quickly as Lena Beaumont sent Victoria a sharply questioning look. "Is Dirk in Penny's bedroom?"

  "Yes." Nervously Victoria brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. "She was upset, and he's been talking to her."

  "It seems to me that some progress might have been made," Charles Beaumont remarked to his wife. "If Dirk is playing the 'big brother' part, then Penny might be getting over her infatuation for him."

  "True," her mother agreed thoughtfully, then smiled at Victoria. "You were always so much more self-reliant than Penny, but I've often felt that she needed the guidance of an older brother."

  "That isn't true," Victoria denied. "When I needed a big brother there wasn't anyone around to play the role so I had to learn to rely on no one but myself." It hadn't taken Victoria long to learn the art of camouflage to hide her vulnerable feelings. Her appearance of self-reliance was mainly a pose to avoid excessive exposure to hurt. "I'm going downstairs."

  "We'll be there directly," her mother promised, eyeing Victoria closely as she passed them to descend the stairs. She had heard the serious note in Victoria's otherwise offhand reply and was reassessing the older daughter she thought she knew so well.

  In the kitchen the housekeeper was hurrying about, trying to make up for the time she had let slip away. Victoria volunteered her help and Josie sent her into the dining room to set the table. She was positioning the water goblets around the place settings when Penny walked into the room. Her eyelids were still puffy from crying and her cheeks had a freshly washed glow, but her eyes were bright and clear in their regard.

  "Tory, I didn't mean those things I said to you. I'm sorry," Penny apologized.

  "I know you didn't," Victoria assured her with a quick smile.

  "I guessed that you did—" her younger sister smiled, self-consciously "—but I wanted to tell you so myself."

  "You were hurt and wanted to hurt back. I know what it's like."

  "I'm sorry. I feel better for saying it," Penny shrugged with vague embarrassment.

  "I'm sorry too," Victoria offered. Slowly it dawned on her that while Penny might have wanted to make this apology, she had been prompted into doing it by Dirk. Victoria resented his part in this.

  "Want some help?" Penny volunteered.

  "Uhh…no," Victoria refused with a vague shake of her head. "Josie has everything in hand and I'm almost finished here."

  "Okay," she nodded and turned to wander aimlessly out of the room.

  Sighing, Victoria finished setting out the water goblets and returned to the kitchen for the condiments. She hadn't meant it to sound like a rejection. It wasn't until Penny had left the dining room that it had occurred to Victoria that her sister might have wanted an excuse to stay and tal
k. As she reentered the dining room carrying the twin sets of salt and pepper shakers, Dirk walked in. While she tried to maintain an outward show of composure, her nerves were honed to a sharp edge of awareness.

  "Have you seen Penny?" he inquired.

  "Yes, she was here a minute ago." Victoria set a pair of salt and pepper shakers at one end of the table and had to walk to the opposite end with the remaining pair, which brought her close to where Dirk was standing.

  "Did she talk to you?"

  Feeling his narrowed look, Victoria didn't meet it. "Yes, and she took back everything she said and apologized. Am I supposed to thank you for that?" The baiting question was an automatic defense mechanism that Victoria couldn't control. Since she couldn't be indifferent to him she was subconsciously trying to erect a barrier of animosity.

  "What is this?" He grabbed at her arm and Victoria glanced pointedly at the hand that imprisoned her in its grip.

  "What?" She feigned cool innocence.

  Dirk swore under his breath, his lips compressing into a thin line. "I knew I shouldn't have given you time to repair that break in your shell."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Victoria insisted.

  "That wall of reserve you hide behind. I have to keep cracking open this brittle shell you enclose yourself in. One of these times I'm going to shatter it into so many pieces you won't be able to put it together again," he threatened.

  He could, too. But for now it remained in place, "Josie needs my help in the kitchen, would you mind?" She glanced again at the hand that restrained her. Dirk released her and she returned smoothly into the kitchen where she could lick her wounds in relative privacy.

  AFTER DINNER, Josie refused her help in washing up and shooed her out of the kitchen into the living room where the others were having coffee. A cushion on the sofa beside Penny was vacant and Victoria immediately took it. It wasn't exactly ideal since she was facing Dirk, seated in an armchair, His hard gaze probed every time it rested on her until she felt like a pin cushion. Victoria didn't taste the coffee she drank, but it kept her from participating in the conversation.

  "What's your opinion about the energy situation, Tory?" Dirk unexpectedly directed his question at her.

  "I don't discuss political issues," She reminded him.

  "I didn't ask you to discuss it. I merely asked your opinion," he challenged with a quirking brow.

  She hesitated a fraction of a second, covering it by placing her cup on its saucer. "I have heard my father say—"

  Dirk never allowed her to complete it.

  "Charles, you may have spent a lot of money for her college education, but somewhere along the way someone forgot to teach her to think for herself."

  "And someone neglected to inform you that a guest shouldn't be rude!" Victoria flared in retaliation.

  "Tory," her mother murmured in a quiet reminder of her own manners.

  "No, don't suppress it," Dirk insisted. "If you're angry, let it out," he urged.

  Penny frowned. "Why are you two fighting?"

  "We aren't fighting." Victoria controlled her temper with an effort. She set her cup and saucer on the coffee table. "Would you excuse me? I have to wash my hair for Mrs. Bourns's party."

  "It's difficult to fight when your opponent keeps running, Penny," Dirk observed.

  As she flashed him a silvery glare she encountered the curious look her parents exchanged. Admittedly she was running, but it was preferable to being cornered. She escaped into the foyer and ascended the stairs to her bedroom.

  Within seconds Penny was knocking at her door. "What's the matter, Tory? Why did you leave?" she questioned.

  "I told you, I have to fix my hair for the party tomorrow," Victoria repeated, an excuse that was valid, but it was a task she could have easily accomplished the next morning.

  "Why are you so angry with Dirk?" she persisted.

  "He was rude."

  "I thought you and he were—"

  "Well, you thought wrong!" Victoria interrupted sharply and Penny drew back to frown at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

  "If I thought I had any kind of chance at all with him, I'd be downstairs trying to figure out how to be alone with him. Are you scared, Tory?" Penny guessed.

  Her mouth opened to vigorously deny it, but she said, "I don't want to talk about it. Would you mind? I'd…like to be alone."

  Her sister hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure." She backed up toward the door. "I'll be in my room if you change your mind."

  "Thanks."

  When Penny left Victoria sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the floor. The truth was that she wished she was downstairs with Dirk, alone. He had her so mixed up that she didn't know what she wanted anymore unless it was the peace she had known before he had entered her life.

  DRAPING THE MACRAME SHAWL around her shoulders, Victoria adjusted the long tan fringes to hang straight against the cinnamon-colored material of her dress. Since the party was formal, she'd styled her hair in a sophisticated coil that emphasized the classic perfection of her features. Satisfied with the results the mirror reflected, she crossed her bedroom to the door. As she stepped into the upstairs foyer, Dirk came out of his room. His gaze swept over her appearance not missing a single detail.

  "You'll dazzle them," he concluded but on a caustic note. "The party gives you a perfect excuse to parade your diamonds, doesn't it?"

  The diamond-studded earrings happened to be the only jewelry she was wearing. They had been a gift from her parents on her twenty-first birthday. She treasured them because of their sentimental value, not their monetary worth, which was probably considerable. It was typical of Dirk to stress the latter.

  In an effort to return the barbed compliment, Victoria gave him a raking look. Resplendent in black, Dirk wore the formal attire with casual ease. Instead of looking more civilized, he looked more dangerous.

  "You look stunning yourself," she remarked. "You're lucky, rented tuxedos generally don't fit that well."

  Her gibe drew a throaty chuckle from him. "You are still trying to put me in my place, aren't you?" Dirk mocked. "Would you like to pretend I'm your chauffeur? I understand heiresses often have affairs with their drivers."

  "You have seen too many movies," she retorted.

  "By the way, the tux happens to be my own. It comes in handy when I have to lecture at a formal dinner," he explained, a wicked light glinting in his dark eyes. "Luckily I brought it along. Too bad I had to disappoint you by not renting one."

  "I'm not disappointed," Victoria replied coolly. "Since we seem to be explaining things, the earrings were a birthday present from my parents."

  "I didn't think they came from an admirer."

  "Why not?" she demanded.

  "As inhibited as you are I can't imagine you being that seriously involved with someone."

  "There is a great deal you don't know about me," Victoria murmured tightly.

  "But I intend to find it out," Dirk warned and offered her his arm. "I believe they are waiting for us downstairs. I heard the carriage drive up just before I came out."

  She let her hand rest on the black material of his sleeve as they descended the stairs together. Her parents were waiting in the foyer along with Penny and a girl friend she had asked to keep her company while they attended the party.

  Since the horse-drawn cab was waiting for them, outside, the goodbyes were hurried. Within minutes Victoria was seated beside Dirk in the carriage. A purpling twilight was spreading across the sky, the first star winking down at them.

  "It's going to be a lovely night," her mother remarked.

  "Yes, it is," Dirk agreed and shifted to curve a possessive arm around Victoria's shoulders. She stiffened, then forced herself to relax in feigned unconcern.

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  Chapter Nine

  USING THE STANDARDS SET by previous parties given by Daphne Bourns, this one was small consisting of roughly twenty couples. While it was less crowded, it did
n't seem less noisy. The minute they walked in they were swept into the tide of the event.

  Daphne attempted to introduce Dirk around, but her obligation as hostess soon called her away, and Victoria's father finished the task. Dirk's arm remained firmly around her waist, taking her with him to whatever cluster of guests her father led him to meet. Other than stating he was a guest and identifying him as a journalist to those who didn't recognize the name, her father didn't offer any more. But the determined way he kept Victoria beside him started the gossips' tongues wagging.

  A uniformed caterer finally caught up with them toward the end of the introductions and offered them a glass of champagne from the silver tray he carried. Dirk refused, but Victoria took a glass. She sipped the bubbly wine as a substitute for talking, offering a smile or a nod in acknowledgement of the conversation buzzing around her. Under those conditions it didn't take long to empty the glass. A second caterer was there with a towel-wrapped bottle of champagne to fill it.

  "Do you plan on getting drunk?" Dirk inquired, bending his head slightly toward her in an attitude that suggested intimate conversation to any onlookers, of which there were many.

  "Wouldn't it meet with your approval if I did?" she challenged over the rim of the glass.

  "It might make you more amenable," he conceded, "but, no, I wouldn't approve."

  "Amenable, ha!" Victoria drank half of the wine in the shallow glass, nearly choking on the tickling bubbles. "Why don't you join me instead of criticizing all the time?"

  "I prefer to get drunk on the sight of you." His gaze ran over her faintly golden features with caressing thoroughness.

  Her heart did a crazy tattoo against her ribs as she tried to mock his comment. "Really, that's a terrible line. It reeks of an old Hollywood movie."

  "I always thought it did, too," Dirk agreed softly. "But after meeting you I've changed my mind."

  "You don't expect me to believe that," she taunted.

  "Why not? You remind me of liquor with your whiskey-light hair and the clouded ice of your eyes. A fine aged whiskey from an old bourbon family," he continued with a glinting light in his dark eyes. "The first contact with you leaves the impression of something tall and cool, but one taste and you burn all the way down, Tory."