Spell of the Island (18 page)

It was half an hour later and, true to Louise’s prediction, Paul had given Emma a slating, his main accusation being that she ought to have recognised the signs that he was falling in love with her and, in turn, given
him
some signs. She took it all meekly for some moments and then could not help retaliating.

‘I did recognise the signs, but let me jog your memory! It was as your mistress that you wanted me!’

‘At first,’ he admitted with a sudden frown, ‘but afterwards I was glad you’d refused.’

‘Then why the d—why didn’t you say so?’ she demanded.

‘Because you never gave me the slightest clue that you cared. Oh, you were drawn to me physically,’ he went on swiftly as her expression changed. ‘But love. . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Not a sign.’

‘Then you’re blind!’ she flashed, and Paul instantly responded with, ‘That makes two of us!’

She looked at him, and the tears on her lashes were not caused by anger alone.

‘If—if you’ve come h-here only to quarrel w-with me. . . .’ She was suddenly swept into his arms, further speech effectively prevented by his kiss, and for a long time the living-room was silent except for
little sighs of happiness from Emma and soft murmurings of endearment from her lover.

At last he held her from him, looked tenderly into her eyes, and asked her to marry him, adding ruefully when in husky tones she had answered him, ‘Although I knew I was beginning to love you, I fought it. I enjoyed my carefree life and was most reluctant to change it. But you . . . in that first moment of looking into your eyes something happened to me. I denied it was anything more than physical attraction and told myself I’d be satisfied to have you as my mistress for a while. Yet all the time I was confused, trying to persuade you to be my mistress and yet always relieved that you’d resisted—’

‘You were?’ She looked up at him with a puzzled frown.

‘As I’ve admitted, I was confused—and reluctant to give up my freedom. I was constantly resisting the deep attraction you had for me, telling myself it would pass. Then after I’d managed to be off-hand for a while, I’d find myself wanting you, desperately—’

‘Hence those onslaughts,’ Emma could not help submitting and received a little shake for her impudence.

‘Each time,’ he went on, and he was serious again, ‘I wanted you to give in, and yet once the moment had passed I was glad you’d resisted me.’ He looked down at her and gave a small sigh. ‘I might as well have given in, but the gap between wanting a girl for my bedmate only, and wanting her for my wife, and I was taking time in bridging that gap.’ Paul bent to kiss her, and his strong arms tightened around her.
‘However, at last I was ready to ask you to marry me, as I felt you loved me. Then Eileen repeated what you’d said—it was a blow,’ he added almost harshly. ‘I knew I couldn’t take you to the airport—in fact, I wanted only to keep away until you’d left—’

‘You should have known I didn’t mean it,’ she protested, clinging tightly to him. ‘I was always saying things I didn’t mean.’

‘About me?’ Paul’s eyes registered a mock-stern expression. ‘Yes, I remember, and, my girl, I also remember your saying you’d not have me if I were the last man on earth. . . .’ His voice faded as Emma placed the palm of her hand over his mouth.

She was laughing with her eyes, and he shook her, playfully. He took her hand from his mouth. She said, caressing his nape, ‘Tell me some more—about your struggle, I mean.’

Paul laughed and said he’d told her just about everything, yet added reflectively, ‘As I said, I felt I’d be satisfied with the physical side, but soon it was being bourn upon me that I wanted a true friend and companion, a confidante from whom there would be no secrets. In short, my beloved, I wanted you.’

She buried her face in his coat, too full for the moment to speak. But at last she was able to say, lifting her lovely eyes to his, ‘It’s a miracle, Paul. I can’t believe it’s really happening to me—no, I still can’t believe it.’

‘Nor I.’ He stared at her in wonderment. ‘Why should I be so lucky, after the life I’ve led?’

‘A bachelor gay. . . .’ Emma had not intended saying anything like that, and she looked at him to note his reaction, half expecting him to laugh.

Instead he said seriously, ‘And you, my darling,
have put a stop to it. I love you, my precious sweetheart, forever. You trust me, dear?’

‘With my life,’ she answered confidently.

Paul drew her to his breast, tilted her face and possessed her lips, and once again there was silence in the room.

‘Louise has been a real brick,’ he was saying eventually as he and Emma sat very close together on the couch, fingers entwined. ‘I take back everything I said about her.’

‘It was only a crush; she soon realised that.’

‘She was determined to bring us together.’

‘She called me an idiot for not realising that you loved me.’

Paul laughed.

‘That’s exactly what she said to me as well.’

After a small pause Emma asked, ‘Has Eileen left the chateau?’

‘Most certainly!’ There was a grim expression in Paul’s dark eyes. ‘I told her I was coming over to England to ask you to marry me, so she didn’t need any telling to leave.’

‘Your mother won’t be pleased.’

He looked at her with a puzzled expression, and after a slight hesitation, Emma confessed to having overheard his conversation with his mother. He merely shrugged his shoulders and took Emma in his arms again. She leant her head against his shoulder and talked about
her
mother. When she mentioned the proposed holiday he said at once, ‘Why can’t she have the holiday in Mauritius? We shall want her there for the wedding in any case. She can stay as long as she likes.’

‘Oh, Paul, can she?’ Shining eyes were raised to his. ‘She’ll love the chateau and the gardens—she adores flowers and trees. I can’t wait to tell her! Wherever can she and Louise have got to, I wonder?’

‘I did tell them not to rush back,’ admitted Paul with a wry smile. ‘You see, my darling, I rather thought I would be making violent love to you—’ He threw back his head and laughed at her embarrassment. ‘We talked too much, I’m afraid. However, there’s always another time,’ he went on, still greatly amused by her blushes. ‘In any case,’ he added presently, ‘we shall be married very shortly.’ Imperious the tone all at once, and a challenge in his eyes. ‘A fortnight will be long enough for you to get ready?’

‘A fortnight! But—’

‘We’ll all fly back together in a few days,’ he interrupted. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for you to do all the necessary preparations.’

‘Paul—a fortnight! Invitations, Louise and mother . . . getting their dresses, and mine. . . .’ Emma tailed off as she heard the key in the front door. Her mother was the first to come into the room; she stood there beaming at the two on the couch, sitting close, hands still clasped together.

‘We’re getting married in a fortnight,’ Paul said, rising to his feet.

‘Splendid,’ approved Mrs. Morris imperturbably, ‘In Mauritius, I suppose?’ she added with a glance at Paul.

‘Of course.’

‘Then we shall have to be doing, shan’t we?’ Mrs.
Morris gave a big sigh of contentment and laid the large box she was carrying on a chair.

Emma said in some puzzlement, ‘What have you in there, Mother?’

‘My dress for the wedding—’

‘Your!—’ Emma gave her a stunned look. ‘But—a dress for the wedding?’

‘Louise told me over a week ago that you and Paul would be getting married, and so I thought I’d better look for a dress. I found a beauty—you’ll love it! I had to have it shortened, and we’ve collected it today—oh, you can both laugh!’ she went on when Paul and Emma could not contain their mirth. ‘But from Louise’s description of your character, Paul, I guessed that once you’d made up your mind you’d not stand for any delay. And so I wasn’t going to be caught on the hop, rushing around for a dress.’

Louise came in carrying two bags filled with groceries. She looked a little flustered and said self-deprecatingly, ‘Hope you don’t mind, Paul—my taking things for granted?’

‘Not in the least.’ The dry tone was also edged with amusement. ‘I imagine I said enough on the phone to convince you that I intended to marry Emma—especially after I’d told you I was catching the first available plane.’

Louise nodded her head, but murmured after a moment, and with a hint of mischief in her voice, ‘Nevertheless, I daresay I was a little premature, letting Mother buy the dress. You see, Emma might not have accepted you.’

Paul looked tenderly at Emma and said softly, ‘Was there any possibility of that, my love?’

‘None at all,’ she answered huskily. And, after a moment she added, changing the subject a little, ‘Paul, if Louise could have her job back—if she wants it, that is, then Mother could stay until she leaves.’

‘I’ve already thought of that,’ he responded. ‘Weil all have a discussion about it later.’

‘But for the time being,’ interposed his future mother-in-law, her brisk manner a cover for the happiness she was feeling, ‘I wonder if you two would mind very much going into the parlour? Louise and I want to lay lunch in here.’

‘We know when we’re not wanted,’ said Paul, casting her a perceptive, affectionate glance. ‘Of course we’ll go into the parlour. Call us when you want us.’ And he took Emma’s hand and allowed her to lead him out of the room. Her colour had heightened, and he laughed as he closed the door behind him. For a long moment he just stood looking at her, then held forth his hands.

‘Come to me, my dearest,’ he murmured a little hoarsely. ‘Come and let me show you just how much I love you.’

The next moment he had his arms about her, his mouth covering hers in a kiss that was as tender as it was ruthlessly masterful. She felt his tongue against her lips, and parted them for it to enter, ecstasy shuddering through her at the contact with her silky flesh. His hands roved possessively, seeking, tempting, caressing all the tender, secret places, stroking her thighs, cupping her breasts; while his iron-hard body forced hers to arch, melding itself to his until it seemed they were almost as one . . . almost but not
quite and at last, breathless as he held her away and said ruefully, ‘You know, my love, the next fortnight is going to seem like a year.’

She agreed, but silently. Paul, understanding of her sudden shyness, just drew her close again and cradled her head upon his shoulder.

And through the silence came the faint rattle of dishes . . . and the singing voice of a woman who was feeling particularly happy.