by Flora Kidd
Denzil removed his yachting cap and hung it on a peg near the door, then turned and grinned at her.
`You've shocked Josh,' he said. 'Like most islanders he has very strict ideas about the conventions. Is there some coffee in that pot?'
`Yes. I hope you don't mind, but I made myself some breakfast. Can I make some for you?' she offered shyly.
'Now that's very nice of you, Victoria,' he replied with a touch of mockery, 'but coffee will do. You shouldn't be moving about too much on that ankle.'
He perched on a stool beside her, took a long swig of coffee and set the mug down.
'Is the schooner all right?' she asked.
'Yes, we managed to get a line on her and tow her in. The steering gear is damaged. That was some storm, but it should be the last we'll have for some time.' He flicked her a sideways glance. 'Have you decided what you're going to do?'
'Before I can do anything I must have my clothes,' Tory said firmly.
'Where are they?'
'I left my cases in the hall at the Director's house. They were too heavy to carry a long way.'
'I'll go and fetch them for you,' he said practically, and tilted his mug to drain it. 'You make good coffee, Victoria.'
'But you can't go and fetch my clothes,' she exclaimed.
'Why not?'
'Well, imagine what Rita Jarrold is going to think if you turn up and ask for my cases.'
'She'll imagine that you're living with me,' he said with a sardonic slant to his mouth. 'Could be that's not a bad idea.'
'But I can't live with you! I want to go on working at the Gardens,' she protested.
'Doing one—that is, living with me in this house— would enable you to do the other, as I see it.' Denzil's eyes were bright and challenging. 'It could be the answer to your present dilemma.'
'I don't see how.'
'Simple really. Tory, will you marry me?'
Eyes wide, mouth agape, she could only stare at him.
'No, I'm not drunk or crazy,' he murmured with a faint smile tugging at his mouth, obviously remembering, as she was, their first meeting. 'Why the consternation?'
'You're not ... I've never thought of you ... you don't seem to be the kind of man who gets married,' she said confusedly. 'Oh, Denzil, surely you of all people don't feel you have to marry me just because I spent the night with you?'
`I'm not sure I like the implication behind that "you of all people",' he remarked, his eyes narrowing dangerously. 'But you're correct in assuming that I'm not asking you to marry me just to protect your reputation. I want to marry you because I want you to live with me. I told you when we first met I was looking for a woman to share my bed and board, and that you seemed highly suitable. I haven't changed my mind. I like the way you look, I like being with you and I want you in the physical sense. This seems as good a time to ask you as any.'
`But they aren't' very good reasons for getting mar ried,' she parried.
`Can you tell me of any better reasons?' he countered.
Tory was silent because she couldn't think of any other reason except love, and after her recent disillusionment concerning her feelings about Magnus she wasn't sure she knew what love was any more. And some inner sensitivity prevented her from mentioning it to Denzil in case he made fun of her.
`Well,' he prompted, 'what's your answer? Will you?'
`I don't know,' she muttered. 'I've never considered getting married to anyone before.'
'Not even to your professor?' he queried, and she shook her head negatively.
But him on a pedestal and worshipped at his feet, did you?' he jeered. 'Look, if you're not satisfied with my reason for wanting to marry you you can take an even more practical approach. Marriage to me will provide you with free lodgings close to the Gardens so that you'll be able to continue to work here. It'll give
the lie to any suspicions Rita Jarrold might have about your morals and it will make legal something which is going to happen between you and me sooner or later anyway.'
'What's going to happen?' she exclaimed in all innocence.
'Oh, come on, Tory, don't pretend ignorance of the sexual attraction we have for each other. You've been fighting it ever since we met. I've struggled a bit myself, which is why I nearly turned you away last night' when you arrived on my doorstep. But I know when I'm licked. I'm ready to give in. So are you, only you're letting those built-in inhibitions of yours get in the way.'
'Oh! How do you know all this?' she exclaimed. 'Give me credit for having more experience than you have,' Denzil growled.
'Oh, I do, I can,' she flared. 'I can give you credit too for being a conceited domineering male who believes that women have been created solely to cook your meals and keep your bed warm! '
'Hell, are we going to have a lecture on Women's Lib now?' he snarled savagely, sliding off the stool and striding away to look out of the window. 'The trouble with brainy women like you is that you don't recognise your own biological urges any more. If it hadn't been for that damned schooner you'd know about them by now. I'd have made sure that you did'
Tension quivered suddenly between them like a live wire. A hand to her cheek, Tory stared at his broad back and wondered how she could tell him that she knew all about those biological urges when she was with him, but that marriage meant more to her than having those urges satisfied. Marriage meant making promises to love and to cherish. It meant keeping those promises.
Denzil turned slowly to look at her from under frowning eyebrows, hooking his thumbs in the front pockets of his pants.
'I can't offer any more,' he said rather stiffly. 'Take it or leave it.'
'I ... I ... need time to think about it,' she answered rather wildly. 'You see, marriage will give you rights and I ... I'm not sure whether I want you to have those rights over me.'
He swore softly, exasperatedly, lifted his hands in a helpless gesture and let them fall to his sides, then turned away to the door.
'Okay, so marriage would give me rights over you,' he said tautly, 'and I'm not going to pretend I won't use them. But don't forget it'll give you a few too. I'll go and fetch your clothes now. I'll be back in about fifteen minutes. That should give you time to think.'
By herself once more, Tory clutched her head with her hands. Marriage to Denzil! A proposal from the last man she had expected to propose to anyone; from a tough freedom-loving adventurer who would surely grow restive under the restraints marriage imposed.
Unless the woman he married could make him feel that accepting those restraints was worthwhile. The woman he married. That would be herself if she accepted his proposal! Should she accept it? Wouldn't she be guilty of marrying him for wrong reasons if she did? To gain free lodgings for herself while she helped Magnus to finish his book. To prevent her contract from being broken!
While she rinsed the dishes she had used, dried them and put them away, Tory went over the reason Denzil had given her for wanting to marry her. He wanted her to live with him. He had wanted that ever since he had met her. Had he seen marriage to her as the only way in which he could achieve that aim?
His proposal baffled her. It just wasn't in keeping with what she knew about him; there must be some other reason. She was still wrestling with her thoughts when he returned with her cases. He carried them into the bedroom for her and went back to the kitchen to make himself some lunch. Quickly she dressed in cool grey linen with touches of white. She brushed her hair and made up her face, then using the crutches she went back to the kitchen. He was sitting at the counter, eat- ing
.
'Did you see anyone when you went to the house?' she asked.
'I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs Jarrold,' he replied with a touch of irony. 'She wanted to know if you'll be staying with me permanently. So do I want to know.'
Tory glanced at him warily. He was looking at her with hard clear eyes.
'You know the conditions,' he went on coolly when she didn't answer. 'You can live here for free, but only if we're married.'<
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'Denzil, I don't understand. I ...'
'You appreciate all I've done to help you,' he interrupted her roughly. 'I know that, but appreciation isn't enough. I want you, on my terms. Yes or no, Victoria?'
'Oh, I can't possibly give you an answer until I've seen Magnus,' she parried desperately. 'He ... he just might have some alternative to offer. Please, would you take me to the Gardens? I can't walk that far on crutches.'
Denzil stared at her and the cold light of hostility was in his eyes. He looked as if he hated her and she had a feeling that he might refuse to drive her to the Gardens.
'Okay,' he said, and she felt herself sag with relief.
'I'll take you to work on one condition.'
''What is it?'
'That you promise to give me an answer at five o'clock.'
'Very well. I promise.'
Magnus was just coming down the wide shallow steps of the white house when Tory stepped out of the jeep. Denzil didn't wait but turned the jeep in a tight circle and drove away down the driveway.
Seeing her on crutches Magnus came across to her, looking very worried.
'Tory, my dear, whatever happened to you?'
'I twisted my ankle. Not much damage, but it's painful to walk on. Magnus, I'm sorry I wasn't able to get to work this morning. I came as soon as I could.'
He studied her face for a second, then glanced in the direction the jeep had gone.
' Mmm, we'll talk in my office at the lab building,' he murmured. 'There's a lot to discuss.'
As they moved slowly in the direction of the lab building he chatted about the tropical storm of the previous night, and of the damage the rain had done to some of the experimental crops. Looking 'around 'her as she swung along on the crutches in the serene golden light of the midday sun, Tory thought it was difficult to imagine the dark violence of the storm. Only scattered leaves and petals and glinting pools of muddy water on the path were evidence that wind and rain had streaked devastatingly across the island.
In Magnus's book-lined office she sat down with a sigh of relief. Walking with crutches was tiring and made her arms ache. She watched him take a chair on the other side of the desk and lean forward to fiddle absent-minedly with an old-fashioned paperweight made in the form of a bird.
`Tory, what happened last night? Why did you leave the house and where did you go?' he asked.
She told him clearly and simply, starting with Rita's visit to her room, and watched him flinch and wince in reaction. When she had finished he sat hunched and frowning, staring at the paperweight.
'It's really most distressing,' he murmured at last, and she wondered whether he meant it was distressing for her or for him. 'I told Rita yesterday that she had nothing to get upset about, that you're a nice young woman with nothing in your behaviour or your way of life to suggest that you go in for permissiveness.' He frowned and worried the paperweight with the tips of his fingers. 'But just now, when I was having lunch with her, she told me that Hallam was here this morning to collect your cases and that you stayed the night with him. That was hardly wise in the circumstances, was it?'
`But I've told you why I went to his house. I'd hurt myself. I Was in a mess and there was nowhere else to go,' Tory replied steadily. 'I ... I wasn't very well and I had no clothes ...' She stopped because Magnus's eyebrows went up, in pained amazement, and realising the futility of trying to explain any more, she sighed frustratedly.
`If only you'd gone to someone other than Hallam for help,' he said.
`To do that I would have had to have walked another two miles, you know that, and I couldn't,' she retorted. `Anyway, I can't see what difference it would have made.'
`Rita would have no grounds on which to base her objection to your continuing to work here,' he muttered.
'I don't see what it has to do with her,' she flared. 'I left your house, which was what she wanted. Where I
stayed the night is none of her business.'
'I know, my dear,' he said with a harassed sigh, and ran his fingers through his longish, greying red hair. `But Rita is making everything you do her business because she's jealous of you. Oh, I know too that she has no cause to be jealous,' he added hastily, 'and I've told her that too. But she has the inflammable latin temperament plus the islander's strict moral sense. You stayed the night alone with a personable single man, a man who has already shown that he doesn't care a snap of his fingers for the opinion of others, and so she's threatening to have you dismissed from your position with the department on the grounds that you're promiscuous.'
'Promiscuous?' exclaimed Tory. 'Oh, really! She must be out of her mind! ' She saw his face stiffen and added quickly, 'I'm sorry, Magnus. I know she's your wife, but what she's implying is absolutely ridiculous. She can't have me dismissed on those grounds.'
'I'm afraid she can, Tory. God knows I'd give anything to prevent it from happening because I realise that it's partly my fault you're in this mess. I should never have arranged for you to stay in my house.' Again he ruffled his hair and gave her that rather weak, wry smile. 'I'm afraid I never think how people will react to certain situations, but the contract does say that you can be dismissed from employment by a government department if your work is found to be of poor quality or if your morals or your loyalty are in doubt. Now I can vouch for your work and your loyalty. I can vouch for your morals too, or could have done if Rita hadn't learned that you'd stayed the night at Hallam's house. Unless you can come up with something that will prove that your relationship with Hallam is above reproach, I'm afraid I'm going to lose the services of a very able botanist.'
Tory sat in silent dismay. Rita Jarrold held the whip hand. She was an islander, a much-loved and celebrated islander who had an influential father, and Magnus had to step carefully because he himself owed his job as Director to his wife's influence. At least he had admitted to having been responsible for putting her in this difficult position ! The other person who was partly responsible, she realised with a little sick feeling of desolation, was Denzil, who had admitted to Rita Jarrold that Tory had stayed the night with him.
Now she knew the meaning of the saying 'to be caught in a cleft stick'. But Rita Jarrold's accusation was so unjust! Anger blazed up in reaction to that injustice. She could not allow her good name to be besmirched in such a way. She couldn't let Rita get away with it, even if it meant committing herself to Denzil's not so tender mercies. Tory raised her head and looked at Magnus with the light of battle in her clear grey eyes.
`I think Mrs Jarrold has insulted me by her implication,' she said coolly. `She is also going to look very silly when it's pointed out to her that on the night she insisted that I leave your house, I stayed the night in the bungalow of the man I'm going to marry.'
Magnus's blue eyes grew round with amazement. `You and Hallam?' he croaked.
Tory smiled, feeling curiously light-hearted. Now she had the right to tell Rita Jarrold where she could take her suspicions.
`Yes. We're ...' It would be better if she said 'we', she decided. 'We've been considering it for a while. You're the first to be told. Aren't you going to wish me happy?'
`Yes, of course, but ...' Magnus looked thoroughly confused', almost shocked. 'Tory, marriage is a very serious business and ... what I'm trying to say is ... I
hope Hallam hasn't taken advantage of ...' He broke off, red-faced and embarrassed.
Yes, he has, she thought to herself, but not in the way you're thinking. Aloud she said,
'You will tell Mrs Jarrold as soon as possible, won't you? I wouldn't like her to make a fool of herself through ignorance of the true state of affairs. Denzil has a very hot temper, and if he hears what she's been implying about me he might be very unpleasant to her.'
'Yes, of course he would, quite rightly so too,' Magnus muttered, and mopped his forehead, which was suddenly beaded with sweat, with his handkerchief. He rose to his feet and went to one of the windows to pull down the venetian blind as a protection against the warm rays of
the afternoon sun which had begun to slant into the room. 'Tory, it would be as well in view of what's happened if you and Hallam could marry soon. It would make it easier for me ... for you, for everyone concerned.' He turned round, looking more worried than ever. 'You'll continue to work even when you're married? I mean, he isn't going to be awkward and say you can't work here, is he?' he demanded anxiously.
'I think I'll be able to persuade him to let me continue to work for you,' she replied, keeping her head down to hide her amusement at the change in his attitude. 'But will the department be prepared to employ a married woman?'
'Oh, yes. No problem there,' he said, and came back to his chair, sounding almost hearty now that he had seen how his problem could be solved. 'Whew, it's very warm in here, but I'd like to get down to work. Your news about your forthcoming marriage, though startling at first, has taken a load off my mind and I can now apply myself to the book. It's really suffered this week,
what with Rita's return and all the upset that's caused.'
Tory watched him and listened to him, and soon she was absorbed in the work of classifying and describing the Caribbean members of the largest and most important group of garden plants in the world, namely the pea family of herbs, shrubs, trees and vines. There were over seventy-three genera of the family to be found in the islands and most of them were loved for their spectacular blossoms, such as the flaming red and yellow poincianas and the delicate vivid bauhinias or orchid trees, of which there were a hundred and fifty species.
Time passed quickly, and at quarter to five Magnus called a halt. Tory brought her mind back from the world of carpels and stamens and faced up to the reality of meeting Denzil in fifteen minutes and telling him that she would marry him, the sooner the better.
He arrived in the jeep just as she was leaving the building. He turned off the engine and waited for her to approach. When she had reached the vehicle she stopped and rested on the crutches. From under his cap brim he slanted her a speculative glance.
'Well? Did your dear professor come up with an alternative proposition?' he asked, the scorn he felt for Magnus showing as always in the curl of his lip.
