The Girl at Danes' Dyke - Margaret Rome

by Margaret Rome

  Her absorption was so complete she missed Thor's knock and was startled almost out of her wits when his image loomed out of the background to join hers within the circle of glass. Their glances held, and for long seconds their faces were framed as if in a locket of remembrance—a moment captured, to be treasured always.

  Swiftly she turned, unable to bear the torment of wishful thinking, and blundered straight into the rock-hard body that was so much closer than she had imagined.

  'Steady!' He sounded tolerantly amused. 'I'd hate to see all that finery disarranged.' His roving eyes assessed her. 'I'm flattered that you have gone to so much trouble simply to please me-—no woman has ever done so before.'

  'To assist in your education!' She disguised nervousness with flippancy. 'Continue exercising such flattery and women will begin beating a path to your door!'

  His breathed reply sounded like: 'Heaven forbid !' but she could not be sure. In any case, it was highly unlikely that he would reject the very outcome for which he was aiming.

  Her surmise was proved correct when he picked up her wrap and placed it around her shoulders. 'I can hardly wait for my lessons to begin—let's go, I've ordered dinner for eight.'

  This time they journeyed inland. She stole a sideways glance as the car rushed through the half-light of early evening and could not resist a thrill of pride in her escort. Besides the unusual good looks a razor had uncovered, a lighthearted assurance seemed to have taken the place of unbending grimness she had found so quailing. He was actually humming as he drover a lively toe-tapping melody to match a mood which, if continuing indefinitely, promised to play havoc with all her firm intentions. She decided the time was ripe to revise her position in order that she did not become tempted to forget her role of teacher and also to combat an uneasy suspicion that she could be a pupil attempting to instruct a sage.

  'The most important thing to remember-is that a woman likes to be paid such small courtesies as being helped off with her wrap, for instance, making certain she's seated comfortably and seeing that wherever she's heading doors are held open for her.’

  'Eh… ?' Obviously his mind had been far from the subject in hand. 'Oh, yes, of course! One must remember to open doors, I've got that! Anything else I should know before I'm let loose on civilized society?'

  She gave him a quick look, suspecting a hint of dryness, but his expression was serene. 'One or two compliments, won't go amiss—everyone is flattered at being told they're looking their best. Admire a girl's dress, her hair-style, her complexion—not her make-up, however,' she added swiftly, envisaging pitfalls. 'Ideally that should have been too well applied to appear other than natural.'

  'As yours is,' he murmured, slewing the car to a standstill. His purposeful manner caused alarm bells to jangle in her mind. His arm slid across the back of her seat and the smell of tobacco arid cologne mingled beneath her nostrils when he peered down into her apprehensive face.

  'Your dimple is as good as a barometer,' His finger slowly traced along the corner of her mouth. 'It appears when you're happy and is absent whenever you're sad…' She felt too suffocated to answer, too surprised even to move. 'Fascinating,' he decided,; "but then I find everything about you is fascinating, dear Raine; eyes like deep tarns with captive bluebells in their midst, your elfin face and haunted, sensitive mouth. Are you one of the "little people" sent to confuse me with your fey ways?'

  It was she who was confused. Was he sincere? By some happy chance did he feel suddenly attracted or—her blood ran cold—was he simply acting on her advise, practising the exercise set by teacher? Uncertainty overcame wishful thinking; she averted her head and addressed a strangulated sentence to the car window.

  'You're progressing very well, keep it up and you'll have no further need to envy Britt.'

  A deep throaty laugh was his answer.

  She remained squeezed tensely in the corner of her seat until they turned into a drive and drew up in front of what appeared to be a large country house. Light streamed from every window and as a doorman helped her out of the car music spilled from the entrance hall, accompanied by the muted conversation of people seated at tables grouped around a bar. Every eye seemed to swivel towards them as they walked in, but after cursory nods to a few acquaintances Thor directed all his attention upon herself, taking such care with the disposal of her wrap and the positioning of her chair she began to feel perversely and unaccountably annoyed.

  'Champagne,' he instructed a hovering wine waiter, before he settled in a chair and turned quizzical eyes in her direction.

  'Is it my imagination, or am I right in suspecting that your mood has changed? Don't you like it here, if not, we'll move on somewhere else?'

  'How could I possibly find fault with such luxury?' she stammered, stampeded into a swift reply.

  'Then why has your dimple disappeared?' he demanded. 'You haven't smiled once since we left the car.

  It was impossible not to respond to this grave badinage. Her lips twitched and the dimple reappeared, accompanied by a blush that emphasized her shy pleasure.

  'That's better." His words turned into a growl halfway. 'Ignore whatever doubts are disturbing you and relax, let this first lesson set the pattern for all those that are to follow!'

  After the first sip of champagne she found she was better able to follow his advice. The wine sparkled against her tongue, stroked a deceptive caress along her throat, then raced in wild abandon through her veins. She coughed, and immediately he showed concern.

  'Careful! I ought to have warned you to sip slowly. "Over a bottle, many a friend is found",' he quipped, 'but at the rate you're drinking the stuff our fictitious marriage could end up a concrete fact!'

  The idea was so appealing she felt bound to refute it. 'No, thank you, the man I marry will have to have a greater need of me than that of a bed warmer and a propagator of sons.'

  He eyed her keenly. 'Tell me, what are these other needs he'll require?'

  She stared across the rim of her glass, wondering at his eagerness to know her innermost secrets, then, deciding he regarded her merely as a sample of a puzzling sex, she told him simply, 'He'll need to love me as much as I love him. Our children will be a part of that love, brought up as happy individuals yet remaining part of a united family. My husband,' she stumbled over the word, 'will need to demonstrate his affection daily, as I will myself, with some small gesture of regard—a posy of flowers, perhaps, a rosy apple polished until it shines, a smile across the breakfast table or a swift cuddle in some handy corner. Such actions keep a marriage alive,' she stated simply. 'I couldn't bear to be part of a meaningless charade, lacking in love, respect or concern. I'd rather die a spinster,' she affirmed, beautiful in her solemnity, 'than marry a man whose own interests are his primary concern.'

  'Within my own admittedly limited experience I've found selfishness to be a female rather than, a male characteristic,' he protested dryly, lifting a slim-necked bottle from its nest of cracked ice. He topped up her glass, then added, 'But I am prepared to accept that in that respect you could be unique. The man you marry will count himself fortunate in possessing a wife with qualities such as yours. Truthfulness, sincerity, a loving heart arid a kind disposition,' he evaluated slowly, placing stress upon each virtue. 'I envy the fellow, in fact, I wish——-' He broke off and thankfully Raine surfaced. She was breathless, as emotionally disturbed as if she had been expertly wooed.

  She lifted her glass with a shaking hand and sipped slowly, carefully avoiding his eyes. It was a foolish thing to do, because already the wine^ was having a heady effect, but she badly needed courage to assist her in carrying out her part of an experiment which seemed to be getting totally out of hand. Her brilliant pupil might easily become frustrated with a teacher who succumbed so easily to his planned campaign.

  He seemed not to notice her agitation as he escorted her into the dining-room, carrying out his duties as host with an aplomb she found amazing. Without consulting her he made his choice from a menu so i
mposing she was glad to let him decide.

  'Lobster Newburg. No, change that to Lobster Thermidor, the cheese and mustard sauce makes the dish rather outstanding.' When the waiter nodded he continued, 'As Boeuf Bourguignonne is a speciality of the house we might as well have that as our main course—and fetch another bottle of champagne. La bonne cuisine demand du temps!' He grinned at Raine. 'So we might as well dance while we are waiting.'

  The trio of musicians was playing music chosen especially to suit the ambiance of relaxed luxury. With nerves beating a tattoo of trepidation she slid into his arms, wondering how long she could stand being in such close proximity with the man whose touch she both dreaded and desired. His hand closed upon her waist, drawing her so near she could feel the beat of his powerful heart, and as they slowly circled the floor she felt the brush of his cheek seconds before the suspicion of a kiss landed against her temple.

  Caution fled as she melted against him, tempting as a flower to a marauding bee, then after a quickly indrawn breath his arms tightened with crushing force and his steps slowed until, almost at a standstill, they swayed together in time to ,the music, bathed in the shadows of dim lighting, surrounded by couples as engrossed as themselves but aware only of each other and the pulsating force urging them to forget completely the world existing mere steps away.

  With a roll of drums the music ended and lights sprang up, startling them apart. Thor's eyelids were slitted over eyes darkly green as he bowed-his thanks before leading Raine by the hand with a grip that did not relax until they reached their table. Silently he fumed while the first course was served, then once the waiter had retreated he brought a blush to her cheeks with the compliment.

  'Those few short minutes made my adolescent attempts to learn how to dance well worth while. Thank you for helping to satisfy an ambition of agonized youth.'

  Shyly she smiled. 'It's strange, but for a split second before we began to dance I wasn't sure whether or not I could. Then when you took me into your arms I knew I could do anything you asked of me—you make me feel so safe…" Her voice wobbled as unexpected tears took her by surprise. 'When I'm with you I feel I could climb mountains or even brave the sea! In time I might even pluck up enough courage to begin unearthing my past, someone, somewhere must know who I am and where I belong!'

  'Doctor Kendall insisted that you were not to force yourself to remember,' he reminded her sharply. 'There'll always be a home for you at Danes' Dyke, you know that, so why bother unearthing secrets which alarm or distress you? Don't deny that they do 1' he insisted when she made to interrupt, 'too many times I've sensed in you a terror best left undisturbed. You're happy now, and could be even happier in the future, so why try to retrace steps back into an unhappy past?'

  She toyed with the food on her plate, wishing she had not allowed discord to spoil what had promised to be an exceptional evening. But now that the subject had been broached she felt she had to explain the doubts that were tormenting her. 'I feel I owe it to you to make some effort to dispel my anonymity. Only the other day,' she gulped, 'Janice, quite unthinkingly, sowed a seed of doubt by asking about the Irish troubles and on which side my sympathies lay. Although I fobbed her off without committing myself, I became suddenly conscious o£ the fact that I could be deeply involved—might even be wanted for some criminal offence, and if that should prove to be the case and Janice and Britt were ever to find out they would have a perfect weapon with which to fight for the custody of their son.'

  Far from being shocked Thor seemed to find the theory amusing. For the first time since she had begun her explanation a grin split his face, creasing his cheeks into lovable laughter lines. With difficulty he controlled his twitching lips and strove for a solemnity to match the worry shadowing her young face.

  'I'm sorry,' he assured her gravely, 'but I simply can't equate you with a gun-toting terrorist on the run. Basically you're far too timid; your gentle heart would never allow you to destroy because you are one of life's builders, not one of its despoilers. Believe me, child, such thoughts can be banished from your mind, I could far easier imagine Vulcan with a price upon his head!' -

  Encouraged by her tentative smile he lifted his glass, inviting her to join him in a toast. 'To a successful evening,' his eyebrow quirked, .'and to the. eventual passing of my exams!'

  For the rest of the evening he allowed her no time for retrospective thought. They danced a little, ate a little, drank a little, and all the time Thor concentrated on his lessons, flattering, complimenting, caressing with words and glances until her head was spinning with happiness even though her heart was weighed down with nagging doubt. She managed not to show that each compliment was a two-edged sword inflicting both agony and ecstasy. It was happiness enough to see him completely at ease, acting as a young man should and not bowed down by a weight of responsibility. Her inward glow owed as much to the knowledge that she was being of use to him as it did to the warmth in green eyes that could not seem to stray from her flushed, animated face, and to words that plucked music from her heartstrings—whispered, teasing words she had to argue with herself were not sincere.

  The evening reached a climax of bliss as they swayed together to the-strains of the last waltz. She felt beautifully drowsy, cradled in arms reluctant to let her go. He held her close and continued humming the melody in her ear until long after the floor was deserted and the sympathetically grinning musicians had packed up and left for home. Warm and deeply content, she burrowed her head deeper into his shoulder and reacted with a gurgle of laughter when he lifted her from her feet and began carrying her out to the car.

  The drive home passed in a/sleepy blur until a cold 'draught blasting its way through her flimsy wrap jerked her awake and she saw the steps of Danes' Dyke and Thor in the act of leaning forward to lift her from the car.

  'I can manage,' she mumbled sleepily, but was firmly pinioned when she began to struggle.

  'Relax, infant,' he growled, rubbing his cheek against her hair as he swept through the hall and into the drawing-room where a fire was crackling a welcome from the grate. 'Stay there,’ he deposited her on the sofa and laughed softly when she promptly snuggled deep, 'I'll make a pot of coffee.'

  In a surprisingly short time he returned. Raine sensed him leaning over her, then heard his deep-throated chuckle. Rendered wanton by warmth and comfort, she kept her eyes closed and tilted her mouth, inviting his kiss. Quickly he accepted the invitation, his lips inflicting sadistic, cruel demands on her mouth, throat and the curve of her shoulders. The shock was so great she was incapable of physical resistance, unwilling to reject completely the lips that earlier had coaxed whereas now they branded. She choked out a loving protest, and at the same time reached out to delay the fiery head bent upon sampling to the full the pleasures she had so foolishly offered.

  'Darling… !' she protested.

  As her whisper reached the man watching from the doorway he flinched. 'Must you covet everything I possess, Britt?'

  The bitter question burned its way into her brain. It was Thor's voice, a furiously angry Thor, directing words from somewhere behind her!

  Incredible doubt became fact when the man bending over her shrugged himself erect to face his accuser,

  'Well, she did encourage me, old man, and as you well know, I've never been able to refuse a lady!’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Britt had disappeared. With the ease of a man much used to similar situations he had sauntered out of the room leaving behind an atmosphere fraught with unvoiced accusations. Too startled to move, Raine remained pressed into the nest of cushions watching Thor advancing towards her, his eyes glittering a warning of anger about to erupt.

  'Thor, I mistook Britt for you, I had no idea———'

  'That I would reappear so suddenly,' he grated, 'otherwise you would have postponed your flirtation until a more opportune time!' He halted, jaw-muscles working as he fought to control white-hot fury and a resentment so violent his whole body seemed tensed to spring. 'How
long has this been going on?' he spat savagely. 'How many other times has brother Britt enjoyed your favours while my back was turned? God, what a fool I've been!' His hard laughter stabbed her heart. 'Britt's philosophy has always been that a man may have whatever he can take and keep whatever he can hold and by heaven this thinking is not far wrong! I've listened to you preach a gospel of kindness and love, I've even been stupid enough to spend an entire evening practising methods which I now know are based upon lies and misconception. The truth is that women want to be taken, need to be held!' Her shocked eyes widened when he swooped down to menace with a quietness that was terrifying. 'I shall have no further need of your tuition because in future I intend to adopt my brother's tried and proven methods, but as I shall still need a female on which to practise you can be of use to me by providing me with the opportunities of discovering all I need to know about prevarication, deceit and that most confusing of all female characteristics—the compulsion to say no when what is actually meant is yes!'

  Raine closed her eyes long before the verbal thrashing ceased. No explanation could have penetrated his jealous rage, so she had no choice but to remain silent, flinching from the insults she felt could be excused because of his deep sense of betrayal. She longed for him to go, to leave her alone to shed tears of regret for the death of the beautiful understanding that had made their evening unforgettable. Now that carefully woven tapestry of trust had been ripped apart by one man's conceit aided by another's inability to recognise his own attraction.

  But one protest had to be made. Through a throat tight -with tears she forced out the plea, 'There's nothing between myself and Britt, nothing; I was drowsy… thinking of our wonderful evening, wishing it didn't have to end…'

  'But it hasn't ended—yet.' The grim tone was full of intent.

  Her wondering eyes fastened upon his face, searching for some sign of softening, but finding none. Implacably he stared back, daring her to profess herself puzzled by his terse statement, ready to combat any protest with cutting words. A blush rose in her cheeks as he began examining her with clinical detachment. With eyes lingering upon the rapid fall and rise of her breast beneath a cloud of golden- chiffon he proffered the insulting compliment.