Dark Summer Dawn (19 page)

When she was in her room, she reflected that Simon had obviously been giving Julie a line about how close they were. Clearly he'd been piqued by her sudden disappearance out of his life, and he couldn't have chosen a worse moment to force himself back into her notice. She smothered a sigh. Poor Simon, she thought ruefully. He would be even more piqued if he realised that she had barely given him a thought over the past days. He had no importance at all in her life and never would have, and this was something she would have to let him know as gently as possible when and if they met again.

She showered and changed as quickly as if she'd been getting ready for a modelling assignment, and made up with care before putting on a simple silky black dress with a full skirt of knife-edged pleats. She brushed her hair until it hung a glowing mass of colour on her shoulders, and put pearl studs in the lobes of her ears.

Tony had arrived when she went into the drawing room, and even a casual observer could have been certain that all was not well. He and Julie were standing together by the window engaged in a low-voiced but furious conversation. Tony looked angry and Julie mutinous, and Lisa's heart sank as she accepted a glass of sherry from Dane with a word of formal thanks. His duties as host accomplished, he turned away silently. Lisa stared after his tall figure as he moved across the room to speak to Chas. She tried to tell herself that his coldness was prompted by a desire for discretion, that later when they were alone he would be different. Her hands clenched into small tight fists in the folds of her skirt. Oh God, let it be true, she thought despairingly. She couldn't stand another rejection by him.

She went over to the windows and stood looking out into the darkness. It seemed to be snowing faster than ever. After a minute or two Julie joined her, her face flushed and her eyes ominously bright.

Lisa asked, 'What on earth's the matter?'

Julie gave a short, angry laugh. 'Not a great deal. Tony's miffed because some dreary carpet man was at the flat this afternoon, and I wasn't.'

Lisa gave her a swift glance. 'Did you know that he was going to be there?'

She shrugged. 'I forgot.'

'Oh, Julie!' Lisa sighed. 'How could you forget a thing like that?'

'Obviously quite easily,' Julie said flippantly. 'I do have other things on my mind apart from that blighted flat, but Tony, of course, takes it as a personal affront because his mother was there, having cancelled umpteen appointments, etcetera. Anyway, the carpets have been duly chosen, so I don't see what all the fuss is about.'

'Possibly over your lack of interest in your future home,' said Lisa, trying not to speak too sharply. 'Wouldn't it be better to tell Tony how you feel about the flat and see if there isn't some workable alternative?'

'If only there was,' Julie muttered, biting her lip.

Lisa, watching her surreptitiously during dinner, was worried to see that she and Tony were hardly speaking to each other, and that Tony had assumed an unattractively injured expression. It was hardly surprising that, just after Mrs Arkwright had brought coffee into the drawing room, Julie should abruptly announce that she had a headache and was going to bed, or that Tony should take his leave with a mumbled excuse only a few minutes later. Dane had already withdrawn to the study with his coffee to go over some papers, and Lisa found herself being inveigled into a game of chess with Chas.

He had taught her to play years before, and was proud of her prowess in the game, but tonight she was unable to concentrate and he found himself an easy victor. Seeing his evident disappointment, Lisa apologised and said that she was tired.

'Everyone's out of sorts this evening,' Chas grumbled, putting the chessmen away in their carved box.' I hope you're not all sickening for the 'flu. And what was the trouble between Julie and Tony? Don't tell me he wasn't in a huff about something.'

'Oh, I don't think it was much.' Lisa tried to sound reassuring. 'It's a difficult time for them both. Julie's suffering from bridal nerves, I expect, and it's made her touchy.'

'Bridal nerves!' Chas scoffed. 'What on earth should she have those for? She's known Tony all her life. There won't be any major shocks in store. He's a good, dependable boy, and I never thought she'd have the sense to marry him.'

Lisa smiled and returned some neutral answer, but inwardly she was far from convinced that it was such an ideal match after all, and she wondered if Julie would still want to be married if she were not pregnant. Her indifference to, or even dislike of her future home, might be irrational in many ways, but then Tony's lack of sensitivity to her feelings about the situation was also disturbing.

When she went up to her room, she knocked gently on the adjoining door in case Julie was still awake and wanted to talk, but there was no answer.

She undressed slowly and put on her robe, not bothering to switch on the light in her room. Then she sat down on the edge of her bed and waited. She heard Chas go to his room, and later the nurse bidding him goodnight. She sat and listened to the sounds of the house settling down for the night and her heart beat sounded slow and heavy in her ears as if she was part of some gigantic universal pulse. It seemed an eternity before everything was quiet and at last she moved. Her legs were shaking as she stood up. She went over to Julie's door and spoke her stepsister's name in a low voice, but there was still only silence, and she turned and went as swiftly and silently as a ghost out of her own door and down the passage.

Everywhere was darkness and shadows, and it was so quiet she thought she could hear the sound of the snow brushing the window panes.

When she reached Dane's door she stopped, trying to steady the swift panic of her breathing as her memories flooded back to haunt her.

But this time it would be different, she thought passionately. He didn't love her, but at least he didn't hate her either, and she would settle for that and what happiness she could snatch.

Noiselessly, she turned the handle and went into his room. It was dark, but there was sufficient light coming through the uncurtained window to show her that the wide bed was empty. Nor had it been occupied at any time that night. The covers were turned down neatly in Mrs Arkwright's inimitable fashion, and the pillows retained their pristine smoothness.

For a long minute she stood as still as a stone, then her hand crept up and touched her cheek as though someone had slapped her there and she was trying to soothe away the hurt of it.

She said, 'Dane,' and it came out on a small breath sounding like a sigh.

She went out of the room and down the gallery to the stairs. When she reached the hall, she could see a thin line of light showing under the study door, and she flung open the door and went in without knocking.

The desk lamp was lit and there were papers littered over the smoothly polished surface, but he wasn't working. He was leaning back in the chair, his jacket and tie discarded, and his shirt unbuttoned almost to the waist, the sleeves carelessly rolled up to reveal the strong muscular forearms. His dark hair hung untidily over his forehead as he stared down into the glass in his hand, and a half empty whisky decanter was stationed in front of him.

He said very quietly, 'What is it, Lisa?'

She didn't answer him at once, but stood staring at him unbelievingly. He swallowed the whisky in the glass he was holding and refilled it.

He repeated, 'What is it, Lisa? Did you want something?'

'I went to your room.' She spread her hands out in front of her in a little gesture of pleading. 'You weren't there—so I came to find you.'

'May I ask why?' He still hadn't looked at her. His voice was smooth and somehow remote as if he was more absorbed in his thoughts than their conversation.

She said heatedly, 'You know why. You asked me to come to you, so I'm here.'

'Indeed you are,' he said slowly. 'Yet I'd have thought your own common sense would have told you that my rather reckless invitation of this afternoon had been superseded by —other events, and that I neither need nor require your presence here or in my bed.'

She flinched. 'But why?' she whispered. 'Why are you doing this to me—to both of us?'

'For a number of reasons.' He lifted one shoulder in a weary shrug. 'I won't bother you with all of them, so let's just say that I could be acting out of misplaced consideration for that poor fool waiting anxiously for you in London. Presumably he thinks you're worth waiting for, so perhaps you hadn't better disillusion him too much.'

'Simon—you mean Simon?' She hadn't even given his unexpected phone call another thought. 'But he means nothing to me…'

'He must mean something if you're currently sharing your life with him,' he said flatly.

'My life?' she began incredulously, and then paused, remembering how she had deliberately given him the impression that she and Simon were living together. She swallowed. 'Oh, I see.'

'I'm glad you do.' Dane tipped his chair and stared at her through half closed eyes. His mouth twisted derisively. 'You've a lovely face, Lisa, and a tempting body, but it's all a façade. There's nothing behind your eyes and smile—no loyalty, no womanliness, no warmth. Is that why you waste yourself on casual encounters, because you know you haven't sufficient depth in your nature to have a real rewith a man? Why not break out of this mould you've made for yourself? If this Simon loves you…'

'He doesn't,' she interrupted quietly, 'And nor do I love him. As you say, it's completely casual.'

But not in the way you think, she added silently, her heart wretched. Never in the way you think.

She said in a low voice, 'Dane, as soon as the wedding's over I'll be gone, and you need never see me again.'

'I'm well aware of that, believe me,' he said harshly, and she shrank a little. She had to rally her courage before she could go on.

She said, 'I know you've always had a low opinion of me. You never wanted me as a member of your family—or my mother either.'

'Your mother I learned to accept.' He set the glass down on the desk with such a thud that some of the amber liquid it contained splashed out on to the desk top.

'You've spilled it—it will mark the wood.' Lisa glanced around her. 'Are there any tissues—a cloth perhaps?'

'Trying to convince me of your domestic virtues?' he jeered. 'It won't wash, Lisa, so just keep your distance—and fasten your robe,' he added with an edge to his voice. 'It seems to be slipping.'

Her face flaming, she obeyed.

'There's nothing wrong with my memory,' he continued after a pause. 'I can recall exactly what you look like naked. It's an image I've carried with me for two years, God help me. So I don't need any teasing glimpses. Save them and any other cheap tricks you have for the camera and your photographer boy-friend. Together you should be able to exploit a whole new market, Amber Girl.'

She folded her arms tightly across in front of her as if she was shielding herself from the contempt in his words.

His voice went on mercilessly. 'You spoke of your mother just now. What would Jennifer have thought if she could have seen some of the pictures of you splashed all over the glossy magazines? That gold, mesh bikini which almost covered you, for instance. What would she have said if she'd seen her little girl, her pride and joy, displayed in that for all the world to leer over? Mightn't she have wondered where you got that trick of moistening your lips and looking at the camera as if you were offering Paradise in your eyes?'

She said, whispering, 'I was looking at you, Dane.'

'At me?' He gave a savage laugh. 'And why should that be, Lisa? What makes me so memorable among so many?'

Sudden bitterness entered her voice. 'Isn't it tradition— to remember the first man who made love to you. My God, love!' She threw back her head and stared at him. 'You talked about my mother, and what she'd think of my life as a model. What would she have thought of you, Dane, if she'd lived and found out that you'd raped me?'

'Good thinking, Lisa,' he said sardonically. 'But not convincing. That vicious little swine Laurie Hammond never bothered with a virgin in his life, and those parties he gave were notorious. If the drugs squad hadn't raided the house, I think a few local people were prepared to take the law into their own hands. And after being mixed up with a bastard like him, you dare to stand there and pretend your innocence!'

'Who told you that I was mixed up with him?' she asked raggedly. 'Gossip, rumour and innuendo. But I'll swear no one ever actually mentioned my name. No one said to you that Lisa Grayson was at one of the Hammonds' parties, did they, Dane, because they couldn't. Because I was never there, except for one afternoon when I walked over to the house to warn them…' She stopped, aware that she was on dangerous ground.

'Warn them of what? That a drugs raid was imminent? That a local lynch mob was being formed?'

She shrugged desperately. 'That they were becoming, as you said, notorious.'

'How very public-spirited of you,' he jeered. 'Am I really supposed to believe this fairytale?'

Lisa moved her hands wearily. 'Does it matter? Whatstory I told, you'd rather believe the worst of me. I should be used to it by now.' She laughed wildly. 'God, how I should be used to it! What a fool I was to think things could ever be different!'

'An unrealistic viewpoint, certainly.' Dane finished the whisky in his glass. 'Even if I'd taken you tonight, sooner or later Simon or someone else would have intervened, and I've no intention of turning myself into another scalp for you to hang on your predatory little belt, my sweet.'

'Do be careful, darling.' It was her turn to jeer. 'That sounds dangerously like an admission of weakness.'

'If it is,' he said quietly, and his eyes held hers for an endless moment, 'then I'm managing to overcome it, thank you. Now perhaps you'd like to go back to your own room, and tomorrow we'll go on as usual, and pretend that little piece of madness this afternoon never happened.'

'As simple as that?' Lisa smiled crookedly. 'How nice for you! But I can't forget quite so easily. In fact, I've been fighting my memories tooth and nail for the past two years. I can't fight any longer. I—want you, Dane.'