by Pamela Kent
�d-��Q,rt4"i 7Q Celestine stood up and smiled carelessly at Jenny.
"There is a very smart little shop in the French town," she said, "where you can buy anything you want or are in need of. And if you'd like an advance of salary for the purpose I can always let you have it."
And then she went out, leaving Jenny wondering still more why, apparently, it was essential for the English girl to look always at her best. And she could not arrive at a satisfactory answer.
CHAPTER TEN
THE Splendide was not as huge as the Mamounia, but it had a beautiful ballroom, and on the night of the dance that ballroom was almost uncomfortably crowded.
Jenny had never seen anything quite like it before, and after having had dinner in the magnificent dining-room at a table that was brilliantwith flowers and the cynosure of a good many pairs of eyes because such a large, distinguished, and obviously gay party sat 'down at it, she was feeling overawed and as if nothing had the sharp edge of reality. At dinner she had sat between Si Mohammed�a Si Mohammed who was cool, because she had broken a date with him, although his eyes could not resist the temptation to admire her openly�and Esther Harringay, Lady Berringer's companion, who looked quite attractive in a dress of orchid-mauve chiffon. She was one of those people to whom evening dress lent an undeniable distinction, and at the same time she appeared younger, and her grey eyes were so un
usually beautiful that Jenny was quite fascinated
by them. The Comte, who was at the head of the table, had known her, apparently, since they were both scarcely out of their teens, and Jenny did not miss the fact that whenever he addressed his mother's companion there was a gentleness in his tone, and a smile in his eyes, that brought anunmistakable and very revealing light blush toher cheeks.
Jenny thought, with quick sympathy, that Esther gave herself away entirely every time that blush appeared, and she wondered whether the Comte had the least idea of the kind of effect he had on the still flower-like spinster. The Comtesse, who was looking her most vividly beautifulin dark emerald green, with emeralds sending out shafts of dazzling green fire at her perfect throats,
ears and wrists, made a point, it seemed, of ignoring Miss Harringay unless bare politeness forced her to address a remrak to her, and then Jenny was sure that the contempt in her eyes had a withering effect on Esther, who probably sensed
that it was deliberate.
Apart from'Lady Berringer�who was perfect in pearl-pink satin and diamonds�there were two other young men, and another young woman, who helped to make up the party, and as champagne flowed freely it was a very cheerful party, although Jenny did no more than barely sip at her champagne, being quite unused to it and uncertain of the effect it might have on her.
She danced afterwards in the ballroom with Si Mohammed, and with both the young men whoseacquaintance she had made at the dinner-table. One of them was a young French officer who paid her many fluent compliments, and the other, rather a Latin type, danced the tango with so much skill and enthusiasm that Jenny felt that on the whole she preferred the French officer, who danced badly, probably because he never stopped talking and telling her how "adorably" English she was.
She had one dance with the Comte, who was plainly not very keen on the exercise, but handled her as if she was made of fragile china, and talked to her in his courteous fashion which never seemed to fail him, while his wife was claimed by the Latin type. And then Si Mohammed, whose stepssuited hers perfectly, and who was probably the best-looking man in the room, led her out into akind of ante-room where the cool air coming in at the open windows was highly welcome after the heat and the crush of the ballroom.
Si Mohammed put her into a comfortable basket chair, asked her whether he could get her somerefreshment, which she declined, and then took the chair beside her and asked her reproachfully why she had broken her luncheon date with him.
"But didn't the Comtesse tell you?" she asked, looking at him in wide-eyed surprise. "Louis was
92
not well, and I could not possibly leave him. It was
not a question of deliberately breaking a date."
"Are you quite sure?" he asked, leaning towards her, and confusing her by the sudden brillance of his dark eyes, and the eagerness which lay behind the brillance. "Celestine said nothing, of Louis's illness, but she did say you found it impossible to meet me after all. I was very muchdisappointed, and�a little hurt, too."
"Oh!" Jenny exclaimed, and frowned, because it was against her natural instincts ever to appear rude to any@ne. "In that case, I am sorry, but I naturally thought the Comtesse would tell you the truth. Louis is very delicate, and it is my job to look after him, and there was no other course open to me."
"Never mind," he said softly and she thought that he was leaning unnecessarily near to her, and the blaze the discreetly shaded lights made of his shining golden head was almost dazzling. "There will be other occasions�many occasions, I hope! and we will trust that in future the small Louis will be more considerate. Perhaps one night you will dine with me?"
"I�I don't know . . ." Jenny stammered. "You are so lovely," he told her, his voice sounding a trifle indistinct. "I have never seen anyone quite like you before, and your eyes are like blue flowers." As she hastily averted them one of his hands lightly touched hers that were loosely clasped in her lap. "Are all Englishwomen as lovely as you, or are you just a rarity? Because if you are, I would like to be the one to admire you constantly, and to tell you how glad I am you
decided to leave England behind you! If you
hadn't done so�and that is a thought I prefer
not to dwell on�my life would have remained
incomplete, because nothing like you would have
come my way, and all my days I would have won
dered what it was I was missing. Now I have seen
you, and I know��"
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"Please!" Jenny requested shrinking instinctively back from him as both his hands imprison
ed hers, and before she could prevent his doing
so he carried her fingers up to his handsome mouthand dropped kisses as light as'a butterfly's touchon each of her delicate, pale-pink nails. "Please__" giving a determined tug in the hopes of freeing her fingers�"Mr. Menebhi��'"
But he grasped them so tightly that it was impossible to free them, and a wave of annoynace swept over her. , , � � i. �.�
"I would like to return to the others," she said, with much more sharpness, "and you must remember I hardly know you��"_
"Which, at least, is not my fault!" he reminded
her. "It is now nearly a week since we met, andalthough I have longed to see you again you haveremained persistently elusive. If only you will letme know when I can see you again, without allthese others about us, I will endeavour to be pa
tient, though patience where you are concerned is not easy." . ,. ,, ,
"I am not entitled to very much free time, she
tried to put him off. "It is not a question of justfixing a time to meet anyone, because when you
are looking after children anything might happen, and�and in any case��" , , , ,
"Yes?" He eased the grip on her hands, butretained them determinedly nevertheless. Jenny looked wildly round the dim ante-room,
with its Moorish arches and silken curtains flowing beneath the arches. There was a glimpse ofenormous stars peering in at a .tall window nearby and palms waving on a balcony outside. Dancemusic reached them, but it seemed very distant and muted, and apparently the ante-room was un
popular with everyone save themselves. If it were
not for the fact that the Comtesse would probably be the reverse of pleased if she rebuffed himoutright Jenny knew that she would have done
so without hesitation, for in spite of his spectacular looks and his flattering speech there was
something about this young Moor which repelledher a little, and something else about him which even a
larmed her. His dark, caressing eyes seemed almost to gloat over her, and the ruthless strength of his beautifully-shaped hands struck something cold and warning to her heart. The very thought of dining with him alone�or just the two of th^mtogether in an hotel such as this, or perhaps even a smaller, more intimate restaurant�sent waves of revulsion breaking over her, and she wasafraid a certain amount of her feeling must be given away by her expression.
"Please," she repeated�"I really do thing we ought to rejoin the others."
"And I am not in any hurry whatsoever to rejoin the others!" Something hard and amused appeared in his eyes, and he laughed softly__so softly that it was almost sinister. "How deliciously young you are, little Jenny Armitage�and howsweet it would be to teach you to grow up! .
The movement of a curtain at the far end of the room surprised him and he looked up, and Jennylooked round quickly over her shoulder just as the curtain was carelessly swept aside and MaxDaintry stood negligently looking in upon them,
"Ah�Miss Armitage!" he exclaimed, and sauntered, or so it seemed to her, towards the middle of the room where they sat. "The Comtesse told me you had joined her party, and I was wonderingwhether you would permit me to tread on your toes in the next dance? I really mean tread on your toes, by the way, because dancing is notone of the things I do well. . . ." He was lookingat Si Mohammed with a cold, almost a set expression on his face, and though his words were light the way he uttered them lent them a touch of grimness. Si Mohammed stood up and lookedback at him with an equally unconcealed dislike in his expression, and for a moment Jenny felt as if there was a kind of tension in the atmospherebetween them. Then Daintry added curtly, belatedly; 'Evening, Menebhi! The Comtesse was look
ing for you just now, and I can take Miss Armitage back to the ballroom when she feels like it."
Jenny realized�and she had realized it almost immediately�that he was well aware that the Moor had been holding both her hands, and that there had been very little space indeed between them when he appeared under the arch. But whether he imagined she had approved of the hand-holding she had no idea.
"Miss Armitage and I were sitting this dance out," Si Mohammed an&wered softly, in his perfectFrench. There was a tight curl to his lips, but his eyes were all at once inscrutable. "But if the
Comtesse is looking for me��"
"She is." "Then I had better go." He bowed � stiffly, formally�to Jenny, and
then moved in a lithe and sinuous fashion across the floor of the anti-room in the direction of the arch. As the curtains fell to behind him Jenny found her heart thudding violently and she looked upwards almost apprehensively at Max Daintry.
"Well?" he asked. "Are you ready?" "To � to dance?" she asked. "No. To return to Lady Berringer. She's prob
ably better able to keep an eye on you than anyone else, and it's quite obvious that an eye�for the rest of this evening, at any rate�ought to be kept on you!"
There was so much coolness' and contempt in his tone that she knew at once that his opinion of her was low�lower than at any time since he had known her. Even his look swept over herdisparagingly, although in the dress of primrose net, with black velvet ribbons flowing from the waist, a row of seed pearls about her slender neck, and her burnished hair like a crown about her shapely small head, she looked particularly young and vulnerable�and perhaps also a little afraid of she was not quite sure what�and the picture she made should have banished anything in the nature of harshness.
But no doubt, as she realized. Max Daintry was impervious to the slightly immature appearance of a young Englishwoman of twenty-four. He was as Lady Berringer had phrased it, "of positive' iron-hard, and unquestionable strength," and to beat oneself against it would be like beating oneself against the unyielding cliffs of her native Dorset.
She only knew that as she walked at his side back to the ballroom she felt as if her age had shrunk considerably, that he was infinitely removed from her, and that in any case he was anxious to have very little to do with her, and to say nothing at all to her just then. He handed her over to Lady Berringer, and the latter looked up into his dark face with a semi-amused expression on her own, and something mildly provocative in her extremly youthful blue eyes.
"Dear me!" she exclaimed. "Have you been rescuing a damsel in distress, or is it merely that you like interfering. Max? Si Mohammed returned here just now with a brow as black as thunder and Celestine has taken him on the the floor to soothe his ruffled feelings. Was it you, by any chance, who ruffled them?"
She looked for a moment at Jenny, whose abashed, downcast expression said a good deal, and then into the man's sombre, cynical grey eyes and he gave her a kind of cold smile before turn^ ing away to leave them.
"You can take it that I like interfering," he
�said, and Lady Berringer looked in a more openly amused fashion at Jenny. "Never mind, child," she said. "The evening is young yet, and we must find someone really nice for you to dance with." But is was the Comte who asked Jenny to dance the next dance, and the young Frenchman who took her in search of refreshment. Although pay
ing her extravagant compliments, he was the type of young man who always behaved correctly, and with him, at least, she was able to relax and be
orcs -_
at ease, even if she did not enjoy herself. And itwas impossible to enjoy herself when she saw. Daintry having dance after dance with Celestine,
whose expression gave away the fact that in hisarms she was almost blissfully happy, and Jennyfelt sick with shame for her, pitifully sorry for the
Comte, and miserably unhappy about herself because something had happened to her, she now
knew with aching certainty, which could never beput right, and under these conditions this eveningwhen she was meant to enjoy herself�in thewords of Celestine�was turning into something
like a nightmare. In any case, she wished it would end soon. .
She was amazed when she stopped dancing with
the French officer to find Max suddenly at her
elbow, and she was still more amazed when he said coolly,
"Well, do you want to try dancing with me, or
would you prefer to come outside for a breath of air?" , , , ,
Words failed her for a moment, and he took her arm and led her back through the fatal ante
room and out on to the balcony where the palmsin brass' tubs waved gently in the night air. Largerpalms in the couryard below them towered pastthe balcony and seemed to be reaching for thestars, and the same night air made a kind of dry music of their rustling leaves.
"I don't think it's cold enough tonight for youto need a wrap," he said, "and in any case I don'tpropose to remain out here long. But I want ,totell you one thing�if you persist in playing with
fire you're bound to get burnt, do you know that?" She felt herself freeze into immobility, and she looked at him stiffly.
"What do you mean?" she asked, in a voice that was just as stiff. He shrugged slightly.
"Simply this, Jenny Wren�that unless you wishto become involved in something you won't likeyou will refrain from accepting invitations fr'
lunch and so forth with a young man like Si Mohammed Menebhi. I should have thought that having lunch with him would have taught you enough, but tonight, apparently, you were still prepared to keep him on a loose rein. Or perhaps it wasn't such a loose rein?"
Jenny felt her face go pale, at first with astonishment, and then with indignation, and as she answered him her voice quivered.
"As I haven't yet had lunch with Si MohammedI don't know what you're talking about, and tonight� tonight I was not encouraging him, as I am well aware you imagined I was. And, in any case�what is wrong with Si Mohammed?"
"He's a Moor, for one thing�oh, you wouldn't think it to look at him, I know, but he is a pure bred Moor, and-very proud of his ancestry if it comes to that�and you're English, and however much those good looks of his might appeal to yoUT impressionable English hear
t you will do well to resist the temptation to fall for them. Unless, of course, you don't object to sharing a husband with several other wives?" with considerable dryness. "And wouldn't even object to being shut up yourself in the modern equivalent of a harem?"
In the white light of the moon, riding serenely high in the purple night sky, Jenny turned even paler, and she swallowed hard.
"I think," she said, in a faint voice "you are very unpleasant." "Thank you," Daintry returned, and accorded her a little bow.
She looked at him witheringly for a moment, and then turned to make he&way off the balcony, but he caught her by the arm. His hard fingers bruised lier bare flesh�for the second time that night masculine fingers had gripped her roughly.
"What do you mean," he asked, with the same harsh note in his voice, "by saying that you haven'tlunche'd with Menebhi? You were going to lunch with him the day after I showed you a few of thesights of Marrakesh."
Jenny succeeded in wrenching her arm free. ,'j
"I was," she said, "because it was the Corn- ii tesse's wish. But nevertheless I didn't. Louis had a temperature and I couldn't leave him. Tonight is the first time I have been out since I saw you last."
"Is that true?" he asked, looking at her keenly. "No," she answered, laughing rather recklessly,
"it's a lie I've cooked up to deceive you. And now
do you mind if we go inside?" But once again his fingers encircled her arm,
and this time they really did hurt her. "Is that the truth?" he demanded. "I've just told you, I'm not above distorting the
truth if it suits me." She winced beneath the bruising pressure of his fingers. "You're hurting � me," she told him, more faintly. "And it's cold out here. I really would like to go in."
"I'm sorry, Jenny," he said quickly, quietly, releasing her, and she was so astonished becausehe actually sounded sorry that the fact that he had twice called her Jenny in a matter of minutes passed her by. "I should have known that a vicar's daughter wouldn't stoop so low as to, as you've just said, distort the truth," with a shade more dryness. "But Celestine gave me plainly to understand that you did accept that invitation, and she said nothing about Louis's temprature."
