by Anne Hampson
To her surprise he spoke to her as he was leaving.
‘Are you enjoying your enforced stay on our island, Miss Worthing?’
‘Very much, thank you. Jake is a most charming host.’ She stopped, not having meant to say anything like that. Her eyes flew to Jake, who was at that moment giving a little shrug, as if silently saying it was nothing. Rohan’s eyes wandered from Dominie to Jake, a most odd expression in their depths. At that moment Molly appeared, informing Jake that he was wanted on the telephone and he rose, excusing himself, and went off towards the house.
‘Jake appears to have developed a fatherly affection for you,’ remarked Rohan unexpectedly, his gaze on Jake’s broad back. At the sarcasm in his tone Dominie’s chin lifted.
‘I hadn’t noticed,’ she replied coldly.
His eyes widened; they seemed to scorch her.
‘I’ll bid you good afternoon, Miss Worthing,’ he said crisply, and left her sitting at the table, her eyes following his tall figure as he strode with swift and easy grace across the lawn towards the drive along which he had come just half an hour earlier.
CHAPTER THREE
In spite of her assertion that she would be able to find something suitable to wear Dominie felt rather drab as she emerged from her beautiful pink and white bedroom and moved towards the drawing-room in which some of the guests were already having drinks with Jake. The dress she wore was several sizes too large, and she had drawn it in with a beaded belt she had found. It was a peculiar shade of russet-red and seemed to accentuate the pallor of her skin, a pallor that had been increased within the last hour on her hearing the news from Jake that he’d had word that the ship was not now going to Madeira, as there had been a shortage of water on board and the ship was now speeding to Port Everglades, where a fresh supply could be obtained. Jake, all apologies and anxiety, had soothingly told her to forget the cruise altogether and remain on St. Thomas as his guest until it was time to return to Southampton, where she could board the ship and take off her luggage. He had already been in contact with the ship, of course, and her luggage was quite safe, the cabin having been locked up by the steward when it was known that Dominie had missed the ship at St. Thomas. Dominie agreed to forget the cruise, and although she was not unhappy at the prospect of staying at Sunset Lodge—just the reverse, in fact—she did seem to have a heaviness hanging about her, as if some trouble, or disaster, would ensue from her prolonging the visit. It was absurd, she knew, and yet, try as she would, she was quite unable to shake the feeling off.
Rohan was standing by the open french window when she entered the drawing-room. With him was a girl of about twenty-one, very slim and attractive, with slanting eyes and full red lips. Her skin was dark and Dominie formed the impression that she was part Spanish. But it transpired that the colour of her skin was merely the result of the sun. She was the daughter of wealthy parents and had nothing to do but sit about in the sun, Jake was later to inform Dominie.
At first, Dominie was so struck by the arresting couple standing there in the window, chatting in an intimate sort of way, that she saw no one else, but when presently she did look about her she gave a little gasp of horror. She was the only woman present who was not wearing a long dress. Hers was formal enough, but only calf-length. Colour mounting, she would have backed from the room, but Jake, apparently oblivious to anything being amiss with her attire, came swiftly forward and took her hand. She was introduced to several people, and all the women looked at her dress. Sylvia actually gave a small giggle as after the introduction Jake led Dominie off to someone else. Hearing this laugh, Dominie said, almost in tears, ‘Jake, I don’t want to stay. Will you say I’m off-colour, and let me leave?’
‘Leave? Whatever for?’ He stared at her, saw her blinking rapidly and frowned anxiously at her. ‘My dear, you’re crying!’
‘Not quite. I’m wearing the wrong clothes. I didn’t expect them all to be in long dresses.’
‘What does it matter? You look very pretty—’
‘No, Jake, I do not look pretty. This colour doesn’t suit me because I’m far too pale. Added to this is the fact that the dress isn’t suitable to the occasion, anyway—’ She broke off as a young man approached.
‘Jake, my turn next. May I meet your shipboard companion? I’ve heard all about her from Rohan.’
A frown caught Jake’s brow. He made the introduction swiftly and once more led Dominie away, so they could whisper together.
‘You should have let me buy you a dress. After all, it’s entirely my fault that you’re here.’ Dominie said nothing, but merely glanced at the door as if she would immediately make her escape. ‘It is, my dear,’ Jake continued. ‘I’m entirely to blame for the situation you’re in.’ He glanced at her. ‘I think you look nice, and that’s all that matters.’ Affectionately he tucked his arm into hers. ‘Come, let me give you a drink.’
‘But—’
‘You can’t disappear now, Dominie.’
‘You mean, it will embarrass you?’
‘No, Dominie, but it will embarrass you—when you meet these people again.’
‘They’d know why I went off?’ she said, then instantly added, ‘I shan’t ever meet them again.’
‘You will. Rohan is taking the Fortescues out to dinner on Thursday, and just a moment ago I heard him inviting one or two more people—’
‘What has this got to do with me? I’m not invited.’
‘But you are, Dominie. He’s asked me to his dinner party, and I’m to bring you too. I hope you’ll come.’ This information left Dominie a trifle stunned, as she knew instinctively that Rohan did not like her. After a few seconds’ deliberation, though, she realized that the invitation must include Jake’s guest, since it was hardly conceivable that Jake would leave her behind.
After a few minutes the amused interest in her clothes faded and Dominie’s embarrassment died with it. She was knowledgeable and intelligent and, therefore, able to hold her own in any conversation into which she was drawn. Jake was never very far away; he looked after her with the food and drink, taking her over to the buffet himself, and carrying her plate back to the seats, which were spread about the gardens, under trees or by exotic flowering bushes. An illuminated fountain added light to that given off by lamps in the trees and bright lights from the house. It was like fairyland, with the gentle trade-winds breeze cooling the evening air and spreading perfume from the flowers, so that it filled the entire garden.
‘Happier now, Dominie?’ asked Jake as he took his place beside her on the low cane garden seat.
‘Yes, thank you, Jake.’ She stopped as a couple came to join them, and automatically brought forward a chair which was by her side. The woman sat down on this, while her husband managed to find room on the seat by Jake.
‘I see Rohan has found himself a young lady at last.’ The woman, grey-haired and immaculately dressed, spoke conversationally to Jake, who sent Dominie a glance that clearly told her he had listened to Mrs. Cookson’s gossip before.
‘I shouldn’t imagine she could be described as his young lady,’ Jake returned, looking over to where the striking couple stood, by the fountain. ‘Rohan’s never mentioned her to me, so he can’t be all that friendly with her.’
‘Oh, but you’re wrong, Jake! He’s been seen with her in London. He went over a couple of months ago, if you remember? The Fortescues were there and Rohan took Sylvia out every night—so we’ve been told. Also, he’s stayed with them at their home in New York, and he and Sylvia were always together. Perhaps he’s changed his mind about women,’ she added, with a laugh which brought out all the hidden wrinkles at the sides of her eyes.
‘I’d like to see him settled,’ from her husband in slow and rather gruff tones. ‘He had a bad time when he lost his sister. We all thought he’d never get over it.’ He turned to Dominie. ‘Lost her in an accident over in England,’ he went on to explain. ‘Some woman, drunk as a lord, caused the accident in which his sister was killed. He came back here
broken. You can’t imagine a man like Rohan being struck down with grief, can you?’
‘No, not really.’
‘He was. You know that, don’t you, Jake?’
‘Yes. And I’m sure he hasn’t really got over it yet.’
‘If it had happened to me I should be filled with bitterness that the woman got away with it,’ interposed Mrs. Cookson. ‘It’s dreadful to think that she caused a young girl’s death and yet herself escaped. Were I in Rohan’s place I’d be wishing I’d run into the woman’s car instead of trying to avoid it.’
‘You don’t know the circumstances, dear,’ her husband said mildly. ‘I’m always telling you not to be so quick to judge. Perhaps there was some excuse for her taking the drink.’
‘Is there any excuse for being drunk in charge of a car?’
‘None at all,’ asserted Jake firmly. ‘The woman ought to have been jailed!’
‘She probably would have been, had they known who she was. Just drove away,’ added Mr. Cookson for Dominie’s benefit, at which Jake intervened to inform him that Dominie had already heard all about the affair from him. ‘Sorry, then,’ said Mr. Cookson. ‘I hate to be a bore by repeating what people already know.’ His wife brought the conversation back to the girl who was with Rohan.
‘Sylvia’s a charming child—so unsophisticated and natural. They make a most impressive and handsome pair, don’t you think?’
‘Yes—yes, they do,’ replied Dominie on realizing the question had been put to her. She did not consider the girl particularly unsophisticated; but naturally kept this to herself. Sylvia appeared—to Dominie, that was—to be a most assured and polished young lady ... and more than a little artificial, both in her make-up and in the amount of jewellery she wore. Nevertheless, Dominie could not deny that she was a most striking girl, and obviously the kind a man like Rohan de Arden would choose for a wife, should he ever decide to marry.
‘There’s the band starting up.’ Mrs. Cookson smiled at her husband. ‘Arthur, will you dance with me?’
‘Certainly, dear,’ he returned obligingly, and led his wife off in the direction of the room from which the music had come.
‘Are you ready to dance, Dominie?’
She turned to Jake, who was already getting up.
‘Do you mind if I sit here for a while? I like the quiet, and the cool breeze on my face.’
‘Then stay by all means. You don’t mind if I leave you? I must do my duty by the ladies.’
She smiled up at him.
‘I don’t mind in the least. I’ll come inside in a little while.’
She sat for a time, then got up and strolled about the grounds, trying to name the plants. The tree over there was a frangipani, she knew that because Susie had told her. And that hedge was made up of a mixture of pink oleanders and hibiscus ... She had wandered from the lights and the trees became shadows in the violet haze of night. The moon was a mere crescent, the stars lost in fleecy white cloud. How still; how quiet, with the strains of the steel band becoming fainter and fainter. Voices! Dominie stopped and leant against the trunk of a tree.
‘But you kept looking at her!’
‘Imagination, my dear Sylvia.’
‘I saw you!’ The voice was petulant but so very attractive. Dominie suddenly knew that Sylvia was clever as well as beautiful. ‘You’re trying to make me jealous, and—and I hate you!’
A small amused laugh and then,
‘Tears, my lovely child? Don’t be silly. I look at no one but you.’
‘I think you’re a philanderer, and I’ve decided I don’t want anything more to do with you!’
‘Throwing me over? And all because you imagine—imagine ,’ he repeated with emphasis, ‘that I looked at Jake’s little friend?’
Dominie gave a start. She would never have imagined it was she about whom Sylvia was talking.
‘Throwing you over! I’ve never been your girlfriend, Rohan!’
A frown touched Dominie’s wide brow. What was the girl up to? The couple had stopped walking and Dominie pressed against the tree, thankful now that her dress was dark.
‘Who,’ said Rohan, ignoring that last angry statement from Sylvia, ‘would want to look at a little mouse like Miss Worthing?’
A giggle followed swiftly on this and Dominie squirmed.
‘She is funny, isn’t she? Fancy coming to the party in a dress like that. I just gasped at the little dowd, and couldn’t believe my eyes. Who is she, anyway?’
‘Someone Jake took pity on aboard the ship. You know what Jake is where women are concerned?’
‘No, I don’t. You’ve spoken about him once or twice, but I haven’t taken much notice.’
‘He’s soft with them. Admits he’s afraid of hurting them. I expect the little Worthing was lonely and so he decided to father her.’
‘Father? Is that all? There’s nothing more in it?’
‘I shouldn’t think so. She’s supposed to be leaving here next week—Friday, I think.’
Quivering hands went to Dominie’s hot cheeks; her temper was as high as it could be. Nothing would have given her greater satisfaction than to confront the pair and let them know she had overheard what they had to say about her. But she held her fury in check, because of Jake and his friendship for the man. So different they were. It seemed impossible that Jake could like a man so insufferable as Rohan de Arden.
‘Kiss me, Rohan,’ came the aching request quite suddenly.
‘Glad to oblige, my love...’ The silence following this lasted a long time, and Dominie would have done anything to be able to escape unseen. She had to remain where she was, though, pressed against the tree. ‘Are you still determined to give me up?’
‘I haven’t decided,’ purringly—like a pretty kitten, fluffy and white and very cuddly. ‘I can have my pick, you know.’
‘Undoubtedly.’ The tones were smooth, unemotional. Dominie was exceedingly puzzled by the relationship existing between these two. She had a dawning suspicion that each was playing with the other, but she could not yet gather whether it was marriage to which they were trying to lead one another.
‘You see, Rohan, I’m not in love with you.’
‘No?’ Silence. Dominie had the impression that Rohan was stifling a yawn. ‘Then how come you to be jealous of the little Worthing?’
Dominie’s teeth gritted together.
‘I wasn’t jealous—’
‘You said you were.’
‘I said you were trying to make me jealous!’
‘I stand corrected.’ Another silence. ‘Come, my child, we shall be missed and people will think things. You wouldn’t like that, would you?’
‘Indeed no! I quite forgot your reputation. People will naturally think things.’
‘My reputation?’ The low rich voice was edged with interest all at once. ‘Tell me about it. What sort of a reputation do I have?’
‘You know very well. Up till now you’ve wanted women only for one thing.’
‘I have? What thing?’
‘Rohan, don’t put on this pretence I If you’ve been seen with a woman, then it’s been assumed she’s your mistress.’
‘And how many women have I been seen with, might I ask?’
‘There was one called Freda.’
‘I believe there was. She wanted to marry me, if my memory’s not at fault.’ Humour fringed his tones; Dominie could almost see those sensuous lips twitching out there, in the darkness of the night.
‘But you seduced her instead.’
‘She wanted to be seduced,’ was Rohan’s cool response, and Sylvia uttered a disgusted little gasp.
‘Men are sickening! I think I shall be an old maid.’
‘They’re referred to as bachelor girls today.’
‘I hate you!’
‘How many other women have I been seen with?’ inquired Rohan, bypassing this vehement assertion.
‘I seem to have heard of one called Joan.’
‘Beautiful but dumb, as th
e saying goes. Yes, I do remember her. She also had marriage in mind.’
‘Did you seduce her too?’
‘I believe I did.’
‘Shameful conduct! Shameless man! No, I shall not have anything more to do with you! We’re finished!’
‘I’m distracted. For several months I’ve given you all my attention and now you’re throwing me over. I hope you’ll never regret it, Sylvia.’
A very strange light entered Dominie’s eyes. Yes, she felt she had the whole situation quite sorted out...
‘Have I hurt you—really?’ Soft tones denoting a sort of fragility. And a small catch rather like a sigh of contrition. Which one of them would win this little game? wondered Dominie, who could have been exceedingly amused were it not for the sting she herself had received on hearing the disparaging remarks these two had made about her.
‘Really. I shall take you back now, and leave you. I’ll spend the rest of the evening drinking.’
‘Oh, Rohan, forgive me! It’s j-just that I’m frightened.’
‘Of what, you ridiculous child?’
‘Of you! And of myself as well. I like you no end, and don’t want to hurt you. But as I’m not in love with you. I’m afraid of myself. I might make a mistake because of my pity.’
‘You mean,’ said Rohan on a most odd note which Dominie could never have interpreted, ‘that if I asked you to marry me you might accept—out of pity?’
‘Yes, that’s right. But don’t ask me to marry you—please, dearest Rohan!’
A deep sigh came over the night air.
‘I can wait, my love ... until you know your own mind.’
The two strolled on and became shadows as they skirted the brightly-lit lawns and took the path round the side of the house, from where they would enter the room in which the band was playing.
Sylvia was a smart girl, but Rohan was no fool. He knew what Sylvia’s game was; of this Dominie was fully convinced, while Sylvia had no idea that Rohan was indulging in a game also. The girl had marriage in mind; the man was bent on seduction.
Thinking about it for a long while after she had slid between the clean cool sheets, Dominie decided that the result could very well be stalemate.
