by Pamela Pope
'I'd rather come up here and think about Piers than do anything else,' she said.
'Were you lovers?' he asked.
The question staggered her. He had absolutely no right to ask such a personal thing, and brilliant colour flared into her cheeks. He was quite outrageous!
'That's no business of yours, and I've no intention of answering you,' she stormed. 'How would you like it if I wanted to know which room Corinne is using at Eden Farm?'
Joss smiled lazily, then leaned up on one elbow and reached out with his other arm, forcing her back into the hay beside him. She was too surprised to protest and found herself meeting those unwavering green eyes than were full of sardonic humour as he leaned over her.
'You're more prickly than a hedgehog, Meredith Paxton. You weren't like this the night you stayed at Eden Farm. I can still feel the way you clung to me.'
Her pulse-rate quickened alarmingly, and where his fingers touched her skin they sent fire through her bloodstream.
'I just happened to be more scared of that awful bat that I was of you,' she explained, attempting to keep her voice normal.
'And are you scared of me now?'
A gust of wind more forceful than anything previous bombarded the stone walls with sudden fury, and with a sound like cannon fire the door below slammed shut. Meredith struggled to sit up, but Joss restrained her, tightening the muscles of his arm so that it was like an iron bar pinioning her down just as securely as the bar on the door now imprisoned them both.
'We're locked in, Joss!' she breathed, alarm widening her eyes. 'Please let me get up.'
He made no attempt to move. His face was only a few inches above hers and the lines either side of his mouth deepened into a smile.
'If we're locked in there's no hurry, is there?' he said, maddeningly. 'We've been alone before. Is this any different?'
Yes, yes, yes! her heart screamed out. That night at Eden Farm she hadn't known that she loved him, and any fear she'd had then had been abstract, undefined. Now she knew exactly what danger confronted her. She was afraid of herself. Joss was playing around, taking advantage of his last days of freedom before he married Corinne, and she had to resist him at all costs.
'Will you please get away from me,' she insisted. 'We've got to find a way to open that door. No one knows where we are.'
'All the better,' said Joss. He had been leaning up on his injured arm and pain in it made him wince, but he stayed where he was. 'Because I intend to put Piers Loring right out of your mind.'
The weight of his body was against her and his mouth came down on hers, but though there was no way she could avoid the contact she kept her lips tightly closed, refusing to give way to the tumultuous urge to respond. Keeping her eyes shut, her limbs rigid, her teeth clenched, she battled with herself, fighting against capitulation with all her will-power, but Joss was too experienced for her. He left her unresponsive mouth and trailed his lips sensuously across to her ear and down to her neck, exploring the hollow that dipped down to her breast before returning to her lips, which now parted on a gasping sigh. It wasn't fair! She could hold out against him no longer, and with a groan she clasped her hands round his neck, drawing herself up towards him with complete abandon. There were not going to be any more moments like this, so she might as well enjoy every ecstatic second.
Presently Joss lifted his head, his arms cradling her now.
'You know, don't you, that if I hadn't left your room when I did the other night I would have been there till morning,' he murmured. 'You're a fascinating girl, Meredith. You ought to take more care. You make yourself far too irresistible.'
Anger gave her strength to fight free of him. 'If you're insinuating I threw myself into your arms for any other reason than protection from that ghastly bat then you've a mighty high opinion of yourself!' She tried to sit up, brushing her skirt with trembling hands that had to do something, otherwise she would have slapped that smug grin off his face. 'Come to think of it, if such a situation arose again I'd rather deal with it myself than have you come to my room.'
'Oh, Meredith!' The exclamation was derisive. 'Am I really such an abominable creature?'
'Yes, you are,' she snapped. But her over-active senses denied the statement, and her need of him surged through her body with overwhelming insistence.
He knew it. His index finger traced the curve of her mouth until her lips parted and she fell back into the hay, limp with longing. The look in his eyes was triumphant.
'Tell me truthfully if you ever felt this way when Piers touched you,' he said. 'Tell me if you were ever as intoxicated with him as you are at this minute with me.'
He kissed her again, brutally, until she groaned and responded, making no protest when he removed her blouse. And, as daylight faded through the narrow window, he made love to her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Early next morning Meredith was on her way to London. The case stowed in the boot of her car was crammed with things she might need; things she had thrown in without any care, because her only thought was to get away from Edencombe as soon as possible. And as she drove fast along the motorway it was difficult even to keep her mind on the road.
It was not all Joss's fault, she readily admitted it. She was equally to blame because she had put up no resistance, but the knowledge did nothing to ease her conscience. All night she had been trying to accept it as inevitable, for somehow she had always known he would make love to her, yet now that it had happened she felt cheap and humiliated. She had wanted it, crazed for it in that moment of madness, knowing it would be the only opportunity, and now she hated herself. And she hated Joss even more.
It just went to show how shallow his affections were, for if he had really loved Corinne he would never have indulged in a casual affair that meant nothing to him. And if he had had any respect or regard for Meredith he would never have allowed such a thing to happen. He had used her, wanting only to prove his mastery, his dominance over women, and she had let herself become just one more name on his list of conquests. So much for the noble ideals of cherishing a great and unrequited love! There had been none of that on either side.
The gale had died down in the night and now the sun was shining. The tempest had passed, in more ways than one. Meredith put on her sunglasses to stop the glare, her head already aching. She had only stopped long enough to grab a coffee at breakfast and give a fabricated explanation to her parents for her hurried departure.
'But, Meredith,' her mother had protested, 'you can't just go rushing off like this! I don't understand. What's Joss going to do? Does he know?'
Joss's name had been like pressure on a raw nerve. 'He'll have to find someone else. Perhaps Corinne has unsuspected talents in that direction too.'
Julia was immediately filled with maternal indignation, sensing a need to protect her daughter from whatever hurt she had suffered.
'It's Corinne, isn't it?' she had said. 'She's done something to upset you. Oh, Meredith, it isn't worth storming off in a state about, I'm sure. That woman is trouble, I've always said so, and it's a pity she came here.'
'She came because she's going to marry Joss,' Meredith had answered, with more feeling than she knew, and there was no need for her to elaborate further. Her mother had looked at her with keen insight, the truth blindingly clear, and if she took on a share of her pain at the unspoken revelation she had too much wisdom to speak of it, for there was nothing she could do to alleviate the heartbreak of a love unreturned. But her own heart ached for this precious only daughter of hers who had lost her first love so tragically, and now cared too deeply for Joss Hamblyn. She looked at her pale face, wide eyes accentuated by the dark widow's peak where her hair was parted, and marvelled that Joss Hamblyn could prefer the superficial charms of a predatory divorcee when there was such a beauty as this he could have.
She had taken Meredith in her arms. 'Go if you must, darling,' she had said. 'But if it were me, I'd stay and fight.'
In that moment Meredith felt closer
to her mother than she had ever done, a bond between them that made words unnecessary. But there was no way she could justify her weakness last night and she deserved no sympathy, so after a moment she drew away, fighting back tears.
With her father it had been different. He had followed her into the garage after a lengthy but useless attempt to get her to change her mind about leaving.
'It's inconsiderate of you, Meredith!' he had bellowed. 'It's unprofessional, and I'm surprised at you. I hope you've phoned Joss and told him.'
'No, I haven't, but he'll understand.' And how! she thought. It served him right, and she wished she could have seen his face when he discovered his secretary's desk was unoccupied. 'I'm sorry, Daddy, but something urgent has come up and I must leave straight away. I'm going to see Mac Loring.'
At the time it had seemed like a stroke of genius to conjure up that name. If he thought that was where she was going he wouldn't want to know anything more, and she was right. But it didn't stop him exploding into colourful language that left her in no doubt she had said the wrong thing.
It was fortunate her parents had learned nothing of last night. Thinking about it as she drove along, Meredith congratulated herself on having remained outwardly calm when it seemed as if the tale was being shouted from the rooftops. If it hadn't been that Joss was able to force open the long-disused hayloft door and drop down to the ground with the help of a stanchion, they might have been trapped there still.
She wished she hadn't mentioned Mac Loring. It had been a thoughtless thing to do and quite without foundation, opening up old wounds for no reason whatsoever. But now that she was alone she considered Mac seriously. She had taken off this morning without any definite destination in mind, vaguely thinking she would book in at a hotel for a day or two until she had sorted herself out, but Mac might be just the person she could turn to for help. He had always been a good friend, and she knew he would be pleased to see her. She would call on him first.
If only she hadn't sold her flat in London, then she would have been able to ask Mac if there were any jobs going in the Loring Group and perhaps settle back into the kind of life she had known before Piers was killed. She might ask him anyway. She could always look round for a new place to live.
It was late afternoon when she pulled up outside the large Georgian house in Belgravia where MacDonald Loring lived. She was shown in by the housekeeper who had known Meredith when she had gone there with Piers.
'Miss Paxton!' she exclaimed. 'My, but it's good to see you!' Her matronly figure in old-fashioned black was reassuringly familiar and Meredith stepped inside with a feeling of relief, as if she had come back to her second home. 'Mr Loring's on his own in the first floor sitting-room. Go on up and surprise him.'
She went quickly up the stairs, her feet hardly touching the expensive carpet which was held in place with antique stair-rods of polished brass, for whatever the state of Mac's fluctuating finances he always managed to live elegantly. Her knock on the oak-panelled door was answered straight away and she turned the brass knob, going into the sitting-room with a glow of anticipation. It was a beautiful room, pale magnolia walls accentuating gilt-framed pictures and a perfect oval mirror over the marble fireplace, dark crimson curtains touching the delicately patterned carpet.
'Hello, Mac,' she said, smiling at the broad figure swivelling round in a chair beside a leather-topped desk.
Mac's face lit up. He must have been about the same age as her father, but good living had taken its toll and he was overweight, though not excessively so, and it was possible to see how like him Piers had been. If Piers had lived another thirty years this was how he would have looked, because he, too, would have indulged in the good things of life that money could provide. Meredith's heart gave an unexpected lurch. She hadn't realised it would be such a jolt coming back to this environment, and for a moment she wondered whether she had made yet another mistake. But then Mac held his arms out to her and she ran to him.
'Meredith, my dear, what a lovely surprise!' he smiled.
His big hands enveloped hers, patting them affectionately, and she clung to him as if he was a lifeline.
'You said I could come back if I found country life intolerable,' she said. 'You were right, Mac, this is my scene. I've decided it's time I was in circulation again, doing the things Piers would have wanted me to do. There's nothing for me in Edencombe.'
She prattled on, making her voice light and effusive, but Mac knew her too well to be taken in by it, and after a minute he stopped her.
'All right, Meredith, tell me what's wrong,' he said, his expression changing to concern as he led her over to an armchair and sat her down. 'I'll get Dorothy to bring us some tea—you look as if you could do with some. Or would you like something stronger?'
Meredith shook, her head. 'Tea will be fine, thank you.'
There was an internal phone he used to contact his housekeeper, then he stood on the hearthrug in front of Meredith and studied her, his eyes questioning under the bushy brows.
'Now,' said Mac, 'who is responsible for those pale cheeks and circles under the eyes? I know they make you intriguingly beautiful, but I'd hoped to see you looking happier by now. So who's at the root of the trouble? I'll soon sort him out.'
'Oh, Mac!' She gave a rather shaky laugh. 'I suppose indirectly you could say that you are.'
It was meant to be a joke. If Mac and Corinne hadn't been divorced, Joss would not have met Corinne again and then perhaps he would have really cared about Meredith. She gave Mac a mischievous grin, expecting him to respond in his usual teasing fashion, but to her surprise his face clouded and he stared at her with more than a hint of suspicion. She didn't understand it.
'What have you been hearing?' he demanded.
'Hearing? I don't know what you mean.'
He fingered the heavy jowls that made his collar appear too tight, rubbing them thoughtfully. 'You always were a clever girl, Meredith. Piers was right to trust your head for business.'
He went over to the desk abruptly and folded up some papers he had been studying when she came in, putting them into a side drawer which he then locked and pocketed the key. She was puzzled, and not a little worried. The words she had uttered so casually seemed to have had some significance she knew nothing about and had obviously worried him. Somehow she had to put things right.
She got up from the chair. 'Mac, I'm sorry, I don't know what you're on about.' She had no wish to know the first thing about his precarious business ventures, and if he was already gumming up the works of the Piers Loring Group that was his lookout. 'You were right, I've got problems, but they're to do with the heart, and I assure you I've no inclination to become involved in big business affairs again, if that's what's worrying you, though I might not say no to a job if you had one to offer me. I don't need the money, but I do need to keep occupied.'
He hesitated, his eyes still narrow as he contemplated whether she was being genuine. Then he bounced back to his normal boyish good humour.
'So you've got love troubles, have you?' he chuckled, slapping his hands on his girth and standing in front of her again like a cuddly teddy-bear. 'Well, I can understand you coming to your Uncle MacDonald, because nobody knows more about them than me. But I can't think why I'm even indirectly responsible for yours. Enlighten me.'
She didn't know how to begin. His odd behaviour had left her feeling tense and unsure of herself, and she was glad when the housekeeper knocked and came in with the tea tray.
'It was just a silly remark,' she said, pouring tea from the Royal Doulton pot as soon as Dorothy had left the room again. 'Of course it hasn't got anything to do with you.'
Mac plumped down on the low couch and regarded her owlishly. 'But you must think there's something I can do, or you wouldn't have come.'
Meredith felt awkward, not knowing how to answer. What had been in her mind when she scurried in search of Mac Loring? It surely hadn't been merely for old times' sake, so there must have been an obscure motive
, like a wild, preposterous hope that he would listen to her story and be sympathetic to the point of offering to do something about Corinne. She hadn't realised she was capable of harbouring such devious ideas, and the very childishness of it appalled her. But Mac deserved an explanation.
'I don't know why I came, Mac,' she said, with a sigh. 'I needed a friend and you seemed the one to turn to, but it didn't occur to me that I'd be adding to an intrigue that's involved enough already. You see, like a fool I've fallen in love with Joss Hamblyn.'
'Joss Hamblyn?' he repeated vaguely. Then: 'Joss Hamblyn! That ... that bastard of a solicitor who defended Corinne and set me back a pretty penny!' His face reddened alarmingly and he thumped the cushion beside him as if he wished it was Joss's solar plexus. 'No wonder you're calling yourself a fool! That's just what I'd call you, too. But he must be an even bigger one if he doesn't want you. Why doesn't he?'
Oh, no! thought Meredith, suddenly aware of the enormity of what she was doing. What if he still cared about Corinne? It would hurt him to know that she intended to get married again.
'He ... he loves someone else,' she faltered. 'My mother said I ought to stay and fight if I want him, but I figured the odds against me are too great. And anyway, I don't know if I even like the wretched man any more. How stupid can you get!'
Mac flattened his back against the cushions, as if they were a wall he was up against, and looked shrewdly at his beautiful young visitor who was now kneeling on the hearthrug, imploring him silently to understand. And he did understand, vividly.
'Corinne,' he breathed.
Meredith nodded.
The gilt clock with rearing horses either side of it ticked loudly on the mantelpiece and she was aware of the sound of traffic in the street below, but they were only a background to the noise of her uneasy heartbeats, for the quality of his silence made her aware of the inner turmoil she had unleashed. He sat a minute, staring through her as if she wasn't there, then he leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees.
'There are two things I want in this world more than anything else, Meredith,' he said, at last. 'The first is to win my ex-wife back, and the second is to patch up the quarrel that's gone on far too long between your mother and me. Since losing Piers I've become increasingly conscious of the frailty of life and I've decided that his way was the only sensible one. If you know what you want, go out and get it. And Julia, with the common sense I remember so well, gave you good advice. Why didn't you take it?'
