As he paused to reflect upon the unreasonableness of the Skipper's attitude, Raine's delicate fingers clenched and unclenched, urging him to continue. When the silent message eventually penetrated, he carried on, 'It was the Skipper's idea to make for the hut. We tried to dissuade him because it was miles off the beaten track and farther than we guessed you could have reached, but he was adamant—some kind of hunch, a sixth sense, I daresay, must have guided him straight to where you and the boy were stranded. The rest you know,' he concluded, unaware of the gaps he had left unfilled. 'We got you both back to the house as quickly as possible and sent for Doctor Kendall, then shortly after that Master Britt and his wife had a showdown with the Skipper in his study, then packed their bags and left in a hurry. We haven't laid eyes on 'em since,' he grunted with satisfaction, 'nor with luck will we ever again.'
He beamed approval on her small, heart-shaped face, her fragility quickening the beats of a heart that had never before reacted to any woman. He felt shaken by a fervent desire to do anything on earth to please her.
'Simeon,' she husked, her anxious eyes fastened upon his weather beaten face, 'will you do something for me? Will you please tell Thor I would like to talk to him and try to persuade him to come immediately… or as soon as is convenient?'
'Surely,' he gruffed, then stomped out, struggling to subdue strange, disloyal thoughts regarding the inhumanity of Halden men.
For hours she fretted, tensing at every footfall outside her door, then slumping back into her chair each time the door opened and the man she longed to see did not, appear. She was now being allowed to sit part of the day by the window, but was not yet strong enough, the doctor had stressed, to venture out of her room. Because the scattered, isolated community relied so heavily upon its district nurse, he had reluctantly had to ration her services, but even though Raine had protested that she^ could now manage alone he still insisted upon the nurse visiting her each morning to take her temperature and make her comfortable for the day.
She had departed hours ago and was not due back until tomorrow!
Cautiously Raine eased her way out of the .rug tucked around her knees and stood up. She swayed, feeling peculiarly lightheaded, then walked slowly across to the window overlooking the rear of the house. Storm clouds hung low in the air; the moors seemed always to be on the verge of weeping. A group of men were laughing and talking down by the paddock and as she watched a tall red-haired figure strode across to join them. A thrill of pleasure weakened her. Hastily she grabbed at the curtains for support while she hungrily looked her fill of the man whose off-hand treatment had caused her more pain than her illness. Why was he so intent upon avoiding her? A blush scorched her skin as a possibility presented itself—she had been feverish, probably delirious, when he found her—had her tongue rambled recklessly enough to have given her away?
She sagged against the window-frame and closed her eyes, waiting for an agony of humiliation to fade. He had been willing to marry for convenience, but a girl he suspected might be in love with ;him could turn out to be an embarrassment—so much so that he had decided to keep well out of her way!
She heard his deep-toned voice directing the men, 'Carry on as planned, if anyone wants me I'll be working in my study for the rest of the day.'
A small flame of anger flared. He must have received her message and had obviously decided to ignore it. 'Very well,' she muttered through clenched teeth, 'the mountain must go to Mohammed!’
When she stepped outside her room the chill of the passageway bit through the fine velvet robe that had seemed quite substantial within the room kept beautifully warm by Simeon's constant attention to the fire. She shivered, pulling the collar of her dressing-gown closer around her neck as, wraith-like, she hastened along the corridor and down the stairs. She hesitated outside the study door, weakened by seeping courage, then somewhere, someone opened an outside door and the resulting .stream of cold air sent her scurrying to seek the warmth of the inner room.
She had expected to find him working, but when she slipped quietly inside she saw he was leaning heavily against the mantelpiece, his bowed head resting upon an outstretched arm while he moodily kicked at a log smouldering at the edge of the fire. When she made a slight movement his head jerked upwards and at the same time the log spluttered, emitting a flare of light that momentarily illuminated every object in the storm-darkened room. For a second he seemed unable to grasp the identity of the figure poised tensely in the doorway, but when she took a tentative step he sprang forward to draw her farther into the room.
'Raine! For heaven's sake, you should be upstairs… !'
'I have something very important to tell you, Thor. As you haven't answered any of my messages Or bothered to come and see me, I decided I must come to you.'
She shivered, and with a muttered curse he propelled her into a chair drawn close to the fire and did not answer until he was satisfied that she was sitting comfortably and was protected from draughts.
'I was delayed/ he told her starkly, 'but given just a few more minutes I would have been on my way up to your room.'
She sent him a pale, wan smile". Judging from his deep absorption his delay had been caused by a need for thought—of how to get rid of her now that the problem of Britt and Janice no longer existed?
Words began stumbling from her lips. 'You've been so kind, Thor, I don't know what would have become of me if you hadn't taken me into your home, clothed me, fed me, even considered making me your wife. Of course, we can forget about that now circumstances have changed…'
‘Have they changed so much?' His voice, grating with harshness, put such a sudden end to her nervous stammering she felt stranded in mid-air, puzzled by the restrained savagery contained within those few terse words. 'Can you truthfully say you haven't always felt towards me the way you feel today?'
He had guessed!
A rush of shamed colour seemed answer enough for the man who, when he saw it, turned his back so that his face was hidden when he continued speaking so quietly she had to strain to hear him. 'There's nothing to be gained from further discussion. You were partly right in what you said, some circumstances have changed, Britt and Janice have gone and I have it in writing that they will never again lay claim to the boy, so happily his future, at least, is assured. You need no longer worry,' he stressed harshly, 'that I might try to hold you to your promise to become my wife.'
She ignored his last remark. Her sensitive feelings were bruised by his harsh exposure of her love for him—there must be kinder ways of rejecting unwanted love than resorting to sarcasm. But her anxiety on Vulcan's behalf forced her to question, 'How did you persuade them to leave, they seemed determined never to let Vulcan go?'
Firelight fell upon the grim contours of his face as he bent to manoeuvre a shifting log. 'By offering them the choice of either money or a court action,' he clipped, 'and as the boy had already demonstrated his aversion to them by running away, Britt decided that to accept my offer to buy his half of Danes' Dyke, plus an inducement bonus to leave the boy alone, was more fitting to his dignity. Also, the few choice phrases I threw in on the subject of their suitability as parents might have helped them make up "their minds,' he concluded,-betraying no sign of emotion.
She gasped, 'That must have cost you quite a lot of money…"
'Almost all I ;had,' he shrugged, 'but that's of little consequence, the money was well spent considering it bought the boy's happiness.'
'If only one could pay to be rid of misery!' she cried silently, nursing inner grief. Her dark head’ fell against the back of the chair as weariness overtook her. She had not yet managed to inform him of her news, yet the effort to do so was being thwarted by the sensuous heat being thrown by crackling logs and by the blanket of silence that had fallen, isolating them both in an intimacy both pleasurable and painful.
Thor, too, seemed affected. As he watched her heavy lashes wavering upon fire-blushed cheeks his iron profile melted until only concern remained where
once anger had been. 'I'm sorry I haven't been to see you sooner,' he apologized softly. 'But I followed your progress very closely; you were extremely brave, little one—when I found you that night I thought at first it was already too late…'
Her lashes quivered but did not rise. She could not face meeting the eyes of the man whose voice was registering an emotion she dared not try to name. Then mindful of the debt she owed him, she felt forced to voice her gratitude. 'I believe I owe my life to you.' Their glances met and she veered from the onslaught of green flame. With fast beating heart, Raine decided that now was the time to impart her news, now, when his mood was receptive enough to allow her time to explain. 'That night when I almost lost my life, I regained my memory. I know- who I am, Thor, and where I belong, and why I ran away!' The last admission was choked out as wide-eyed with horror she resurrected the memories that had lain buried in her mind.
'Don't look like that!' Pistol-sharp, Thor protested. Then, seemingly without movement on either part, she was cradled against his hard chest, wrapped around with arms of steel. 'Don't speak of it yet,' he commanded roughly, 'you've endured enough!' ,
The bliss of feeling him close was ample compensation for any. hurt; wrapped around by his strength she felt capable of bearing any agony—except the agony of being denied his love.
'No,' I must tell you now,' she pleaded, feeling his muscles tense under her light touch. Her head barely reached his heart, yet she felt in some way dominant when a shudder ran through his mighty frame.
'Then at least sit down,' he rasped, sounding like a man almost at the-end of his tether.
Raine wanted to stay within1^ the shelter of his arms, arms that gave her strength when she needed strength, tenderness when she needed tenderness, and courage when her morale was in tatters. But he released her and took a step backwards, putting safe, precise distance between them. Feeling suddenly chilled, she groped her way back to her chair and avoided looking at the erect figure casting a shadow of aloofness over her bent head as she began reliving her nightmare past.
'My home is in Ireland, in a small village on the border dividing north from south. The Troubles didn't intrude much into our lives, we lived very much as we had always done—in a tightly-knit community, caring for neighbours if they were in need, whatever their religious or political beliefs—never dreaming that the horrors being perpetrated in the cities could ever really touch our lives. There were just the two of us,' she whispered, her knuckles showing white, 'my father and myself. Father was a local magistrate, bluff, kindly, but very outspoken in his views on acts of terrorism—too outspoken, as it turned out…'
The break in her voice reacted upon Thor like a lash. He jerked erect, but checked an impulse to move towards her and remained tensely still while she struggled for control. Bravely gathering up her courage, she continued, 'One night just after sup- , per we were together in the sitting-room listening to the late hews when four masked men burst through the door and ordered my father at gunpoint to go outside. I remember screaming at him not to go. My father began to argue and I ran towards the telephone, intending to call the police, but before I could reach it one of the men grabbed me by the hair and threw me to the ground.' A savage hiss from Thor went unheeded as with vague, almost childish pride, she recalled, 'I had long hair reaching almost to my waist, but,' her trembling mouth tautened Thor's clenched jaw, 'they cut it off—to convince my father they meant business, they said, but I think they actually enjoyed inflicting the humiliation.'
For a brief moment her fingers strayed upwards to her gamin head, then halted halfway and descended to her lap. 'Whatever the reason, it worked. My father agreed to do whatever they asked provided they left me alone. When they began dragging him outside I ran after them, screaming, begging them to let him go. Their intention was-unmistakable, their eyes glaring cold with hatred, fanaticism and a lust to kill. They shot him right before my eyes,' she faltered, staring blankly in from of her. 'I ran to help him, but even as I dropped to my knees I could see he was dead. Seconds later I felt a blow on the back of my head—I remember nothing more until the time you picked me up on the moors. How I got there I can't remember…' ,
'And probably never will!' The frustrated thirst for revenge in Thor's voice caused her a shiver of revulsion.
'I never want to go back!' She could not suppress the broken cry. 'Thor, I need your strength, your protection, please let me stay;.. !'
To her utter humiliation he hesitated. It was little consolation to know that he was deeply moved on her behalf, so concerned that every muscle of his tall frame was taut with restrained savagery. He was sorry for her, she sensed, but dared not extend sympathy which she, in her need, might construe as an emotion much stronger.
She swallowed hard, then with great dignity rose to her feet. I’m sorry, I had no right to ask you that, ‘I'm over-emotional, not quite myself…' Tears flooded the remainder of her sentence, a rush of "misery so shattering she could not continue. Blindly, she spun away hoping to reach the door before the dam burst, but before her first step had been taken he was blocking her way.
'Raine, is your fear so great that you're prepared to spend the rest of your life with a man you hate rather than go back?' Tight-lipped, he warned, 'You've had a dreadful experience, but believe me, child, the memory will fade in time and when it does you'll resent me bitterly for taking advantage of your weak state, because if you stay, Raine, it must be as my wife, there's no other way.'
She stared at his ravaged face, only two of his savagely thrust words registering.
'Hate you… ? How could I possibly hate you?'
Mustering great effort of will, he chose his words carefully. 'How can you not, when on at least two occasions you've pleaded with me not to touch you? I admit that on the first occasion your fear was justified, but when I- broke into the hut where you and Vulcan were sheltering you cowered away as if the sight of me brought you nothing but terror.' With jawline jutting granite hard, he admitted with difficulty, 'Much as Vulcan and I need you, I can't trust myself far enough to renew my earlier promise. I love you far too much to live with you and remain celibate.'
His meaning was unmistakable, but though she blushed wildly her eyes remained steady, registering deep blue joy tinged with dawning awareness. Holding on carefully to her sanity, she trembled. 'On. the first occasion you mention I was -feeling hurt and angry, but I have no recollection of any second time. The only possible explanation must be that that night in the hut was the time when my memory began to return. I relived those dreadful hours all over again, and when you and the others broke in I must have cried out in delirium, not against you, but against the men terrifying my dreams, There can be no other explanation,' she assured him simply, 'not when, for hours previously I'd been praying for you to arrive, bad kept sane only by telling myself that somehow my need of you would be transmitted across the miles dividing us and you would know exactly where to find me. You came just as I knew you would, just as I hope you will always come whenever I feel need and longing for the man I love…'
It was a wonderful sensation, being plucked like a piece of flotsam and gathered into the haven of his arms. Like the breaking of a dam too long under pressure, the force of his passion erupted and she was caught, submerged, drowned by waves of delight. She suffered ecstatic agony under a grip unconsciously cruel, then melting tenderness as the first powerful surge was controlled into a sweet stream of endearments, caresses, and hunger-filled kisses that reduced her to a quivering bundle of happiness held tightly against his pounding heart.
"Tell me, let me hear it again… say it!' he groaned, his possessive lips swooping to capture a puke hammering frantically in her slender neck.
'I love you, my thunderous Viking,' she whispered. 'I adore your gentle strength, your overpowering tenderness and your brutally possessive touch..’
His fiery head lifted so he could look his fill of her radiant face, flushed, confused, brimming over with love for him, the unhappy Halden, the dour,
dominating Dane.
'How wrong my father was!' His brilliant green glance roved her trembling mouth, anticipating its sweetness. 'And how I pity Britt, poor misguided fool…'
When she dimpled his eyes blazed flame. 'I've just remembered! Janice suggested I might already be married, but I'm not———'
'But very soon will be!' he declared masterfully. 'The licence is burning a hole in my pocket!' He set a seal on his vow with a tender kiss, then teased, 'Every day I'll bring you an apple polished with love, or a posy of flowers—or best of all he glinted, 'I shall find some handy corner in which to give you a quick hug…' Their lips clung as they laughed, sharing their first secret joke, then humour was swamped, as desire flared, urgent, demanding, searing as flame.
'How soon will you marry me, Raine?' he pleaded hoarsely. 'I've waited so -long ..'
A small chill feathered her happiness. 'As soon as you want, my darling.' Her dimple faded. 'You've made no secret of your need of a wife—any wife,' she breathed.
He sensed her mental withdrawal. Held close in his arms she had become distant, separated by the ghost of departed words. Yet their affinity was so complete he knew exactly the reassurance she needed.
The Girl at Danes' Dyke - Margaret Rome Page 14
