Shadowed Stranger

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Goodnight, Miss Castle.’

  Her head jerked back at the sound of that softly mocking voice. ‘Mr Pendleton,’ she said in a stilted voice, her gaze stopping at the top button of his shirt.

  ‘I enjoyed meeting you, Robyn,’ Sheila Pendleton spoke now. ‘Brian assures me I shall be seeing a lot of you.’

  She looked at Brian, seeing the pride and love shining in his bright blue eyes. Pride and love that she had no right to nurture. After this weekend she couldn’t see Brian again, not still loving Rick as she did.

  ‘Perhaps, Mrs Pendleton,’ she answered noncommittally.

  ‘I hope so,’ the other woman smiled. ‘Don’t you, Oliver?’ She looked up lovingly at her husband.

  Rick’s expression was shuttered. ‘I have no doubt we shall all be seeing Robyn again.’

  Brian’s arm tightened about her shoulders. ‘I wish I had your confidence, Oliver,’ he said ruefully.

  ‘I don’t think you need confidence, Brian,’ Rick drawled. ‘Robyn assures me she’s a one-man woman.’

  Brian looked down at her eagerly. ‘Did you? Did you really?’

  She licked her lips, shooting Rick a resentful glance from beneath lowered lashes. ‘Not exactly, Brian,’ she let him down lightly. ‘I believe I told Mr Pendleton that I believe in being loyal to the person you’re with.’ She would have liked to have added something cutting to Rick, but she was too conscious of his wife standing at his side, a woman too nice to have to put up with the rake Rick undoubtedly was.

  ‘And you’re the man of the moment,’ Rick drawled insultingly to Brian. ‘I should make the most of it—women are inclined to be fickle, especially ones as young as Robyn.’

  ‘Not fickle,’ Robyn flashed. ‘Just choosy.’

  If she had hoped to anger him then he gave no outward sign of it, although the glitter in his eyes promised retribution at some later date. But as they were never to meet again that wouldn’t be possible.

  She felt somewhat less tense once Rick and his wife had left, although she wished Brian wouldn’t be quite so possessive with her.

  ‘Please, Brian,’ she fought against the intimacy of his kisses as they parted later that night. ‘Don’t,’ she added pleadingly.

  He had her trapped against the wall outside her bedroom. ‘No one will know if I come into your room with you,’ he murmured softly. ‘I’ll leave before the maid brings your tea in the morning.’

  She had a feeling this plan had been carried out many times before. ‘Brian—’

  ‘No one will know,’ he repeated huskily, his lips on her throat.

  ‘I will.’ She squirmed against him, wishing her movements didn’t excite him even further, the hardness of his thighs pressed against her.

  ‘Don’t be such a prude, Robyn!’ He was becoming angry now, increasingly so as she thwarted his plans for the night ahead. ‘No one waits until they’re married any more.’

  ‘Maybe if I were going to marry you I wouldn’t wait either.’ She pushed him away from her, frightened of the glazed passion in his eyes, the excited flush to his cheeks.

  Seen like this, the likeable companion of the past weeks seemed not to exist; an immature sexual satisfaction was Brian’s only aim at the moment.

  ‘I said no, Brian!’ she said vehemently.

  ‘Why?’ His mouth was sulkily angry. ‘I bet if it had been Oliver you wouldn’t have said no.’

  Robyn went white at his accusation. ‘What did you say?’ she exploded.

  He put his hands moodily into his pockets, his expression rebellious. ‘You heard me,’ he muttered.

  ‘But what did you mean by it?’ Surely she hadn’t given herself away, revealed her secret love for Rick?

  ‘I saw the way the two of you kept looking at each other,’ Brian snarled. ‘You aren’t Oliver’s usual type, I must admit, but he liked you, I could tell.’

  Robyn licked her lips, her hands kneading together. ‘Does he have a type?’ she asked softly, dreading the answer.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Brian sneered. ‘Usually they look like Melinda and Sheila.’

  She frowned. ‘Like Sheila? But—’

  ‘Women like that don’t make claims,’ he scorned. ‘And Oliver likes his freedom. Melinda was the only one who came anywhere near holding him, and now she’s gone,’ he shrugged dismissively.

  ‘Gone?’ Her mouth felt dry, her hands shook.

  ‘Dead,’ Brian revealed callously.

  Robyn seemed to sway where she stood. ‘Dead?’ she echoed faintly.

  He nodded. ‘About six months ago.’

  And since then he had married Sheila. Could he possibly love Sheila or had he married her out of a sense of loss? Melinda had meant something to him, too much, surely, for him to have fallen in love again so soon.

  ‘You are interested in Oliver, aren’t you?’ Brian persisted angrily.

  ‘No.’ She was aware that her denial lacked conviction, but her thoughts were still with Rick and the woman he had loved. But what of the woman he was now married to? Sheila Pendleton seemed well aware of her husband’s faults, and she accepted them. Robyn knew she would never be brave enough to accept his other women, especially as she was the other woman.

  ‘Liar!’ Brian snapped. ‘God—I bring my girl-friend home and she falls for a family friend, a man old enough to be her father!’

  ‘He is not!’ she instantly defended. ‘Thirty-six isn’t old.’

  Brian’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘How do you know Oliver is thirty-six?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘My God,’ Brian said slowly, ‘the two of you have met before. You have, haven’t you?’ he accused resentfully.

  Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘No! No, of course we haven’t. Look, I think I should go to my room now, we don’t want to disturb the rest of the household.’

  ‘They’ll all be asleep by now,’ but he lowered his voice nonetheless.

  ‘But I agree with you about going to your room, we haven’t finished this conversation yet.’ He opened the door and pushed her inside. ‘We can talk more comfortably in here. Now, how well did—do you know Oliver?’

  ‘I don’t know him at all.’ She moved to switch on the bedside lamp, more for something to do that add extra light to the overhead light, Brian having switched it on when they entered the room. And she wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t know Rick, she really didn’t.

  ‘Then why won’t you marry me?’

  ‘Because I don’t love you,’ she sighed. ‘And that has nothing to do with Ri—Oliver—I mean, Mr Pendleton.’ Her protests were falling on deaf ears, she could tell that. And it was all her own fault, she was making a mess of things. ‘It has nothing to do with anything but the fact that I don’t love you,’ she added to try and convince him.

  Brian eyed her suspiciously. ‘There’s something you aren’t telling me.’

  ‘No, nothing—’

  ‘Yes. Oliver was in your area a few weeks ago, before he was ill—’

  ‘Ill?’ she echoed sharply. ‘You mean his ribs?’

  ‘You do know each other! There’s no other way you could know about Oliver’s broken ribs.’

  ‘I—He—he could have mentioned it this evening,’ she said desperately.

  ‘No way,’ Brian shook his head. ‘It isn’t the sort of topic he would bring up at a party, it isn’t the sort of thing he would talk about at all.’

  Robyn bit her lip, knowing he was right. ‘Then someone else must have mentioned it.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I—Dulcie—Yes, I think it was Dulcie.’

  ‘Never,’ Brian derided. ‘She may be a doctor’s wife, but any form of ill-health sickens her. Dulcie wouldn’t have told you anything about Oliver’s stay in hospital.’

  ‘But he didn’t stay in hospital! I mean—’

  ‘You mean he didn’t stay in hospital that you know of,’ Brian finished with a sigh. ‘It’s all right, Robyn, you don’t have to pretend any longer, I know when to accept defeat.’
>
  She looked at him pleadingly. ‘It isn’t like you think. I admit I did meet Oliver before. But I—Nothing happened.’ Not quite!

  Brian looked as if she had hit him. ‘I loved you, Robyn,’ he choked.

  She didn’t think now was the time to point out that he was already using the past tense, touching his arm understandingly. ‘I’m sorry, Brian.’ ‘Was he the man?’

  ‘The man?’ She looked startled.

  He nodded. ‘The one you told me about when we first met.’

  Robyn swallowed hard. ‘Would it do any good to deny it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I won’t,’ she sighed.

  ‘What happened?’

  She shrugged. ‘Nothing. He just left. I—I understand why now. There’s who he is, and—and Sheila.’

  ‘Mm, she’s a responsibility Oliver wouldn’t shirk. He came back because she needed him, she gets very depressed.’

  That didn’t surprise Robyn. She would get very depressed too if she couldn’t trust the man she was married to.

  ‘But who Oliver is doesn’t count,’ Brian continued. ‘He’s just as happy when people don’t know who he is. Happier, actually. He lives like a recluse most of the time.’

  ‘I noticed!’

  The glimmer of a smile lightened Brian’s features; his disappointment was shortlived. It showed that his feelings hadn’t been deeply involved, no matter what he claimed to the contrary. Robyn had the feeling she was just another rebellion on his part, a deviation from the sort of girl he was eventually going to pick for a wife.

  ‘He lived that way in Sanford, hmm?’

  ‘He did,’ she confirmed. ‘But you said he’d been in hospital …’ she prompted worriedly.

  ‘Well, you already know about his ribs being broken,’ his expression was reproachful. ‘One of those broken ribs punctured a lung.’

  ‘Oh no!’ She felt weak, and sank slowly down on to the bed.

  ‘Hey, I’m sorry!’ Brian sat beside her, his arm about her shoulders. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘You didn’t. I—I just—It was a shock. Was he—very ill?’

  ‘Pretty bad. We thought he was going to die for a while. But he’s fine now,’ he assured her.

  ‘Was he in hospital long?’ God, she thought, Rick had almost died and she hadn’t even known about it. He must have done this to himself when he left Sanford so abruptly. Now she knew he had done so to be with his depressed wife. Maybe that was why the letter in the blue envelope had angered him.

  ‘A few weeks. But he’s a hundred per cent now. Really,’ Brian insisted as she continued to look worried.

  ‘If you say so,’ but she still sounded unsure.

  ‘Ask him yourse—No, I don’t suppose you can, can you? You didn’t exactly seem the best of friends tonight.’

  Robyn gave a wan smile. ‘We aren’t.’

  And they weren’t ever likely to be again. Rick was completely out of her reach, a married man.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  PARTING from Brian the next day wasn’t too difficult. He seemed resigned to the fact that she no longer wanted to continue seeing him, unless it was as a friend.

  She felt rather embarrassed about facing his parents now that her relationship with Brian had been decided, but Alice and John Walker treated her just as politely as they had the day before, although Robyn felt sure Brian must have told them of their decision.

  Brian took her to the station, kissing her on the cheek. ‘I’m sorry things didn’t work out.’

  ‘So am I.’ She gently touched his cheek; she meant what she said, she wished she could have been more than fond of him.

  ‘Here,’ he handed her some magazines and chocolates, ‘have a nice journey.’

  She had a thoughtful one, not necessarily a ‘nice’ one. She had made an effort to forget Rick with another man, and in doing so had simply met up with him again. Fate must simply be against her. It didn’t seem fair; Brian had been such a nice boy too. If only he hadn’t known Rick!

  But it was no good wishing for what might have been. If she did that she might as well wish that Rick wasn’t married, that he had loved her in return. Instead of which she had just been another woman to him. At least he had had the decency not to take her when he had the chance, although she knew it hadn’t really been through decency on his part, it had been sheer necessity, the pain of his ribs the only thing that had stopped him. Decency had had nothing to do with it.

  ‘Have a nice time, dear?’ her mother wanted to know once she got home. Her father was immersed in the Sunday newspapers, Bill was out as usual.

  ‘Very nice,’ she replied noncommittally, and went on to tell her mother about the anniversary party, although she omitted meeting Rick again. Better to just let him continue to fade from all of their lives.

  But it was much harder the second time around; her evenings out with Selma had come to an end, through her own choice. They might have been doing her good, but it wasn’t fair on any of the boys she might meet, especially if they decided to become serious about her as Brian had.

  Selma accepted her decision goodnaturedly. Her sights were now set on Alan Mitchell, a boy who had just started work at the library. Not that he seemed to return her interest, spending more time with Robyn than he did with Selma.

  Not that Robyn encouraged him, although she had always liked him when they had been at school together. He had been very good at athletics at school, the boy all the girls wanted to date, although at the time he had been pretty single-minded about a career in athletics, devoting all his time to his training programme, till a serious accident that had broken his pelvis had put an end to that promising future.

  Robyn had been surprised when he started work at the library, although he seemed to be enjoying it.

  ‘I’ve always liked books,’ he confided to Robyn one lunchtime. The two of them were sitting in the park, shafts of sunlight filtering through the tree above them. It was the same park Robyn had come to with Rick, but nowadays she forced herself to go to these places. She had even returned to Orchard House a couple of times.

  ‘It must seem strange—’ she broke off, biting her tongue for her thoughtlessness. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, looking at Alan with distressed eyes.

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘I know exactly what you were going to say, and I don’t mind. You see, it doesn’t seem strange to me at all. I never particularly liked athletics—’

  ‘Oh, but you must have done,’ she protested. ‘You were always so dedicated.’

  Alan shook his head. ‘No, I wasn’t. My father wanted me to be the best athlete in the world, he worked towards that end from the moment I could walk.’

  Her eyes were wide. ‘Without even asking you?’

  He grinned. ‘I walked before I talked.’

  ‘You know what I mean!’

  ‘Yes,’ he still smiled. ‘I loved him, I wanted to make him happy.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘We’re all forced into roles in our lifetime, Robyn.’

  He sobered. ‘Take Selma, for example. She thinks she has to turn every male on that she comes into contact with. She’s basically insecure—’

  ‘Selma? Insecure?’

  ‘Yes. She giggles and jokes about, gives you the impression she would go to bed with you at the drop of a hat. But it isn’t the truth.’

  Robyn blinked, dazed at the sensitivity of this man. At twenty-one he was tall, dark and handsome, had retained his muscular physique despite the fact that he no longer participated in sports. ‘It isn’t?’ she asked huskily.

  ‘No. Selma’s a sham. That’s the reason she loses her boy-friends so regularly. She’s all talk, and underneath that talk she’s just an insecure little girl looking for someone to love her.’

  ‘She likes you,’ Robyn told him softly.

  He sighed. ‘Not me, Robyn, the role she remembers me in. The person I really am is vastly different from how she remembers me at school. I’m no hero, just a
man who tried and failed to be the world’s best athlete.’ His words were self-derisory.

  Robyn’s hand moved to cover his. ‘You didn’t fail! If it hadn’t been for the accident—’

  Alan stood up. ‘I never think of might-have-beens, Robyn. They just make you bitter.’

  She stood up too. ‘Selma doesn’t like you for what you could have been, she likes you for what you are now.’ And Robyn liked him too, liked him for seeing Selma as she had come to know her, liked him for the incredible wisdom he seemed to have for one so young.

  He shook his head. ‘There’s no glamour attached to going out with a cripple.’

  ‘You aren’t a cripple!’ He limped, one leg was slightly shorter than the other, but it was hardly noticeable.

  ‘I’m not perfect either.’

  ‘No one is,’ Robyn said bitterly.

  ‘A lesson learnt the hard way?’

  She blushed. ‘Yes. Now, I think we’d better get back. Mr Leaven doesn’t like unpunctuality. And don’t say that’s another role, he enjoys laying into me if I’m late.’

  Alan laughed. ‘But you expect it.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she conceded. ‘But I wouldn’t he too disappointed if just once he forgot.’

  Selma greeted her eagerly when she returned. ‘Did you put in a good word for me?’ she wanted to know.

  She had asked Robyn to try and convince Alan of how much she liked him, and Robyn had promised to try. Well, she had tried! ‘I couldn’t actually come out and ask him to go out with you, Selma,’ she evaded.

  ‘No,’ the other girl agreed. ‘As long as you mentioned me.’

  ‘Oh, I did that,’ Robyn said with relief.

  ‘Good. I—Oh, I nearly forgot,’ Selma gave a rueful smile. ‘You have a visitor.’

  ‘I do?’

  ‘Mm,’ Selma nodded.

  ‘Billy—’

  ‘It isn’t Billy,’ Selma grinned. ‘He looks suspiciously like your Rick, only tidier, if you know what I mean.’

  Yes, she knew what she meant! Panic gripped her, making her shake with reaction. What was Rick doing here? There was only one way to find out the answer to that. ‘Where is he?’ she asked in a strangulated voice.

  ‘Sitting in one of the armchairs at the back of the library, near the A section. He arrived just after you’d left with Alan, but he said he wanted to wait for you.’