Spellbound

by Margaret Way

  'I'm going to give it a try,' said Lucy, something in her gentle maimer implacable.

  'With Strasberg to hold your hand?'

  'You're not being fair about Julian.' Lucie looked him full in the eyes. 'He knows how much I love dancing. There's never been anything else.'

  'But the agony if you fail!' Genuine concern racked Joel's haggard young face.

  'Then I'll find something else. I won't be free until I know I can't do it.'

  'So you're not going to give up this torment?'

  'I'm growing stronger every day. Even if I never dance professionally again, I need the therapy.'

  'Of course you do!' Suddenly Joel changed tack. 'It's just that I feel you've suffered enough.'

  'I think we ought to go back to your mother Joel.'

  Lucie stood up. 'We can talk some more inside.'

  He, too, stood up quickly, stretching his lithe body. 'I'm sure we'll find her choking back happy tears.'

  As a prediction it was accurate. Avril Tennant was seated in the living room, flushed and misty-eyed.

  'It does my heart good to see you together!'

  Lucie made no comment, but Joel looked happier and more relaxed than his mother had seen him in a long time.

  'You'll stay to lunch, won't you, my dear?'

  'Of course she will!' Joel informed his mother, not even allowing Lucie a say in the matter. 'Why hasn't this happened before?'

  'You never wanted to bring Lucie home, as I recall,' a deep voice surprised them from the doorway leading into the entrance hall.

  'Why, Grant!' Avril Tennant looked up startled and gave a nervous smile. 'Where did you spring from?'

  'I had to come home, as it happened,' Grant Tennant made no further effort to explain. 'So this is Lucie?' He walked into the room, a big, heavily set man in the dark suit of a business man, and no one had to look hard to see the strength and the rapier intelligence. It clung to the man like an actual aura.

  'How do you do, Mr Tennant?' Lucie gave him her hand, aware of the piercing, downbent scrutiny.

  'You look fragile enough to break.' He held her hand gently, yet still managed to convey great firmness. 'I'm so glad that we've met at last.'

  Joel didn't want us to, she thought, but remained silent, her violet eyes softening in response to his welcome.

  'Have you managed to forgive my son?' he asked quietly.

  'Really, Dad!'

  'Have you?' Grant Tennant tightened his broad hand.

  'There is no anger in me, Mr Tennant,' Lucie said quietly.

  'You wouldn't allow it.' He nodded his head in satisfaction. 'My son is very lucky.'

  'Lucie is staying to lunch,' Avril Tennant twittered, uncomfortably aware that Joel was muttering to himself angrily.

  'In that case I'll stay.' Grant Tennant looked across at his sullen son without dismay. 'At least it will give me an opportunity to get to know Lucie better.'

  They dined without haste and Lucie found herself, to her surprise, being won over by Joel's father. An overbearing, insensitive ogre he was not. He set out to put Lucie at her ease, in the process displaying a good measure of charm. Avril Tennant too became far more relaxed, younger and prettier, the incarnation of the perfect hostess. Only Joel held aloof, looking around the table, studying each one in turn. Lucie did not think he made more than half a dozen remarks, but at least these were unmarred by hostility. Lucie felt he had grown up in his father's giant shadow and had become sullen and resentful because of it. Physically they could not have been less alike; father and son. Grant Tennant was a big man, well over six feet with a heavy yet controlled physique, while Joel might have considered it a misfortune to be boyishly slim and only of medium height. Where Grant Tennant's features were strong and deliberate, his son's were rather delicate in comparison, an impression heightened by his very fair colouring. He was his mother's son and dressed up would undoubtedly look the debonair, rich playboy.

  'Forgive me, my dear, if I do this badly,' Grant Tennant said finally, 'but I would like to make sure you don't suffer financially. It's all we can spare you. If you would be good enough to tell me what your hospitalisation and aftercare cost you, it would ease all our burden if I could settle it now. I don't think I need tell you, we've all been very much distressed.'

  Lucie was not surprised at his offer, but she did not wish to take anything. 'You may think you have to, Mr Tennant,' she said gently, 'but really there's no need.'

  'I can't agree.' Grant Tennant shook his leonine head. 'You must allow us to do this for you.'

  'Please, dear,' Avril Tennant added her entreaties to her husband's. 'It's important to us all that we be allowed to help.'

  'After all, I'm the one who nearly killed you!' Joel suddenly stood up.

  'I daresay you destroyed a career.' Grant Tennant transfixed his son with a look. 'Sit down, Joel. You must consider someone else's wellbeing above your own, and Lucie is looking anxious.'

  In fact Lucie's oval face had whitened. 'May I think about it, Mr Tennant?' she asked to gain time.

  'You're going to have to decide now, Lucie,' the deep voice boomed, but he smiled, a kindly and at depth troubled smile.

  'Then five hundred dollars would help a great deal.'

  'I don't imagine that was all it was,' Grant Tennant said dryly.

  'Be sure it will help.'

  Afterwards, when Lucie arrived back at Julian's she opened her bag and took out the folded cheque, gazing in perturbation at the amount written in a bold, distinguished hand: 'Five thousand dollars.'

  'Peanuts to him, I should think,' Jessie quickly put her own thoughts into words. 'If I were you, dear, all things considered I'd take it.'

  'Oh, Jessie!' Lucie sighed.

  'I know how you feel,' Jessie said quickly. 'But look at it this way. It would ease their collective conscience. You know how badly they feel. Now they want to be assured they can make something easier.'

  'I don't care to be under an obligation, Jessie.'

  'You prefer taking it from Julian?' Jessie looked at the girl carefully.

  'Yes, I do.' Lucie answered without hesitation. 'Julian will want it back even if he makes me slave for it. I want it that way.'

  'You can't afford too much pride, sweetie,' Jessie pointed out gently. 'The operation alone cost a lot of money. If it makes the Tennants happy to pay for it, I'd let them. You're paying far too much already.' Like the loss of a brilliant career, Jessie thought, her eyes kindling.

  'I'll speak to Julian.' Lucie bent her head and sighed deeply and quiveringly like a child.

  'Gosh! Will you be requiring a referee?'

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Julian, as usual, was blunt, barely controlling a demon anger.

  'Send it back,' he ordered.

  'I suppose I'd better.' Lucie's nails bit into her palms.

  'Why did you take it in the first place?' Julian regarded her with apparent impatience.

  'I think because they needed me to.'

  'Conscience money.'

  There was no answer to that. It was. She stared right past his wide shoulders, thinking for a moment that he wanted to slap her. 'So I owe it to you?'

  'No one else.' He grimaced at her, then suddenly smiled; deliberate, blazing charm. 'Let's go out tonight. Carlo and Marianne are having a party. We might look in on it for an hour or so.'

  'Do you good,' Jessie said warmly, apparently judging it safe to come back into the living room.

  'I don't think so.' Lucie had a genuine fear that Camilla might be there.

  'You're going, little mouse!' Julian reached for her slight shoulders, making her look up at him. 'You've had nothing, no relaxation, all these long weeks.'

  'I've had Jessie . . . and you.'

  'And Joel, for instance. I expect he was hysterical to see you.'

  'As it happens, he was.'

  'My poor darling!' Julian gave a brilliantly acid imitation of Joel's tones. 'There's not a thing you have to fuss about. Marry me and we'll live on my dad for
ever!'

  'I had no idea his father was a wealthy man,' Lucie pointed out.

  'Of course not.' Julian agreed. 'Ethereal little creatures like you aren't supposed to poke around in people's backgrounds. His father is a millionaire many times over.'

  'So why don't we take the money?' Jessie said, like someone who had been eavesdropping,

  'You amaze me, Jessie.' Julian gave her a cool look. 'As it stands, Lucie has only to be beholden to me, one of her own people. We have to keep her free of Joel and his family at all costs. I'm sure Lucie realises by now that Joel is unstable.'

  'Of course I'm very much in the dark,' Jessie said, sipping her drink. 'Look at it this way, I've never met Joel.'

  'And how could you?' Julian stretched with real elegance. 'He's been in hiding for weeks.' His beautiful mouth twisted sardonically.

  'He wanted to come to me,' Lucie said, 'but he was afraid.'

  'Meaning exactly that. His fear was cowardly. He was unquestionably first and last thinking about himself.'

  'Well, he's paid for it,' Lucie avoided looking at Julian by looking at Jessie. 'I scarcely recognised him, he looked so haggard.'

  'But attractive,' said Julian with a mocking catch in his voice. 'I know I'm not worthy of you, darling; I know I've hurt you, but it's all over. Let the two of us hang up our dancing shoes. I've only to step forward for Dad to include me in the team. No one who sees you could fail to love you. You'll win the family over and we'll get married.'

  'Stop, Julian,' Lucie said inaudibly.

  'Are you sure you weren't there?' Jessie enquired, quite startled at the way he had hit on Joel's reported words.

  'I know what sort of a person Joel is,' Julian said sombrely,' and I want him to leave Lucie alone.'

  Lucie retreated to her room, bothered by the certainty that Joel would not leave her alone. Now that he was certain she was whole. Why not admit it to herself? Had her accident confined her to a wheelchair, as indeed it could have, Joel would never have sent his mother after her. Or was she being unfair to him, colouring her own judgment with Julian's contempt?

  There was very little in her wardrobe. Why was he asking her? She was not really a party person. She didn't drink, she didn't smoke, she had never been a gossiper, or a splendid extrovert, a show-business type. All she had ever done in her life was work.

  In the end, Jessie had to come to her rescue.

  'What you need is a dash of colour!' Jessie fixed the girl with her clear eyes. Lucie was wearing a polo-necked black sweater with a black velvet evening skirt.

  'You can say that again!' Lucie agreed wryly. 'All I've got is that silver pendant.'

  'Not to worry, I've got something.' Jessie hurried off, a big woman, but remarkably light on her feet.

  When she returned Lucie was debating what to do with her hair, leave it loose in a straight silken fall or pull it back in its usual chignon.

  'Here, pet, try this.' Jessie withdrew the most beautiful triangular silk shawl, rose-coloured and heavily embroidered with blossoms and sprays of foliage in the Chinese manner and deeply fringed in black silk.

  'How—how exquisite!' Lucie exclaimed.

  'Bought it in Hong" Kong,' Jessie shook it out. 'Won't even go around me, but I just loved the look and feel 6f it.' She passed it to Lucie, who took it reverently and with a truly professional twirl set it about her shoulders.

  'I'm not often wrong,' Jessie said. 'That looks absolutely perfect!'

  'Doesn't it?' Lucie turned" slowly, lingeringly, unconsciously in part. The rose-coloured silk lit the black background and Lucie's pearl-coloured skin. She looked beautiful and exotic, and gave Jessie another idea.

  'What say I pinch a few of Julian's camellias?'

  'Not the white one.' Lucie broke off her unconscious allure.

  'No, I'll keep away from them. It's that deep pink I want. Do your hair in a low chignon and we'll pin the camellias behind your ears.'

  'If you say so,' Lucie smiled. 'I'm so glad you came into my life, Jessie. I've never had a family.'

  Her words spoken so naturally and spontaneously gave Jessie a rush of great pleasure. She had been an only child herself, nursing an invalid mother through all the years of her youth, then standing by helplessly when her mother finally, agonisingly died.

  Julian saw her pick the camellias but said nothing. He had been right about Jessie from the beginning. She was one of the long breed of women who had truly earned the accolade treasure.

  'What about two behind one ear?' Jessie stood back, considering. 'I always think fresh flowers are beautiful on young girls.'

  'Let's see.' Jessie's enthusiasm was infectious. Lucie leant nearer the mirror, then pinned two perfect deep pink camellias to the back and above her left ear. Her violet eyes were wide and serious, intent on her task, so she didn't see Jessie's transparent admiration.

  'I've had a lot of compliments in my time,' Jessie said, 'but now I think I'd give them all back just to hear, gosh, you're beautiful!'

  Julian's expression, however, disconcerted Lucie.

  'All right?' she asked hesitantly.

  'Oh, come on!' Jessie stared at her incredulously. 'You look terrific. Doesn't she, Julian?'

  'Of course.' Julian still had that disquieting expression on his face. 'So that's why you raided the terrace?'

  Jessie gave a smug little smile. 'Well, be on your way, the pair of you, so I can make my own plans.'

  'Which are?' Julian's voice suddenly gentled.

  'Parkinson. He's got that wonderful old lady on tonight—you know, that actress. Must be ninety and still beautiful.'

  Lucie flung her arm around Jessie and hugged her. 'I don't know that you shouldn't be on the show yourself!'

  'Are you going to be warm enough?' Julian was back to assessing Lucie's fragile figure.

  'I think so.' Her sweet, glowing smile faded a little. Julian was scrutinising her so closely.

  'Put this around you anyway until we're in the car.' With complete and direct authority he draped his own jacket around her narrow shoulders. 'Don't wait up for us, Jessie. We'll be late.'

  It was a brilliant night out, cold, but with a veritable sky full of stars. Before she got in the car Lucie looked up at him. 'Do you want your jacket now?'

  'No,' he shrugged nonchalantly, so throbbingly vibrant one could well believe he never felt the cold. 'I've been thinking of a ballet to put on. One to bring the audiences in in droves. Something traditional, romantic—and God, Lucienne, you're romantic!'

  'Always the mockery.' She made a plaintive sound.

  'In spite of which you have some feeling for me.' He opened the door of his supercar and Lucie bent her head and slid into the chequered velour and leather seat. A dedicated car fancier could have told her it was a Porsche 928S, but Lucie, an undistinguished driver, always thought of it as a car to be feared as well as gaped at. Julian had already told her only a 'complete incompetent'—herself?—could cause it to do anything badly.

  'Is "Camilla going to be there?' she asked tentatively when they were well under way.

  'Who knows?' He gave her a mildly exasperated glance. 'Tiny as you are, you always act heroically.'

  'You mean I keep a drowner's grip on the barre.'

  'Just so.' He laughed in his throat. 'Forget Camilla for a moment. Every profession is tinged with risk. I'm not sure that La Dame aux Camellias wouldn't do—a tragic love story, great sets, a real tearjerker. It's been used before, but what hasn't? Ashton's showpiece, Verdi ... Garbo . . .'

  'Camilla Price?' Lucie interrupted almost tartly. 'Much more to the point.'

  'Camilla, really?' He looked at her with raised saturnine eybrows. 'I didn't realise you thought of her so highly.'

  'The name, I suppose. Camilla, Camille— appropriate.' She tailed off lamely.

  'Camilla does not excel in the romantic repertoire,' he said crushingly.

  'She's wonderfully talented.'

  'By the way. Enchanting, no. The audiences cheer, but they don't love her.
They loved Fonteyn, the incomparable Markova, Ulanova, others. My mother, an extraordinarily lyric dancer. Ballerinas who have enormous influence over the audiences, something almost inexplicable, a kind of supernatural mystery. You have it in a very small measure.'

  'Had it, don't you mean?' she said tersely. 'When are you going to accept it?'

  'Contrary to what the experts predicted, you're doing remarkably well.'

  'That's only true of undemanding work.'

  'Then we'd better increase the pressure.'

  After that, Lucie was grateful just to sink back in her seat and subside. Being with Julian was like being caught in a shredding machine.

  When they arrived at the party, Lucie's eyes swept the crowd looking for the most ominous face of all; slinky, foxy, Camilla with the annihilating golden eyes. Didn't Julian realise she was still madly in love with him, even if they hadn't caught on to the idea of marriage?

  She wasn't there, not seated or standing or chewing on lemons. Lucie could have laughed aloud with relief. It was a terrible thing to know oneself detested, and all because Julian had conferred on her her own ballet and many kindnesses for reasons neither she nor Camilla could understand.

  Marianne came out to fuss all over Julian and say a few encouraging words to Lucie, then with her arm around him, she drew Julian away. Happily married to her Carlo, Marianne still went into a girlish dither and looked at Julian with yearning eyes.