Stormy Haven (21 page)

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Authors: Rosalind Brett

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Why not?

He gave a self-deprecatory grin.

I knew your cousin John, and somehow thought of you as nearer his age. Have you swum or are you about to?


I

m just going back to the house.


We

ll go together, then.

Colin Jameson was exactly as Henry must have been about fifteen years ago. Dogged, unassuming, a son of the soil, he was even managing the very estate that his brother had supervised for so long. He had no desire to leave Mindoa, and his ambitions ran to pattern; one day he would have his own plantation.


And a wife,

interposed Lucille, for the subject had arisen over the luncheon table.

Don

t put that off till you

re forty, as Henry did.


There

s not another Lucille to wait for,

said her husband.

He

ll have to pick one of the belles of Carimari. Played any tennis with the Acheson girl lately, Colin?


She wouldn

t suit Colin,

said Lucille witheringly.

She

s too hearty. He needs someone sweet but spirited.

Colin laughed good-temperedly.

So does every man. I suggest that my fate be permitted to work itself out without help. I

m perfectly happy as I am
.”


You won

t be as soon as you meet the right girl, I can tell you,

Henry warned him.

Being in love before you

re married is a perpetual state of elation and depression in equal parts. Isn

t it, Melanie?

She blushed, but answered flippantly,

I believe it is.

Colin gazed at her for a moment in some surprise, but the topic died there when Denise staggered into the room, bypassed her parents and flopped adoringly at his feet. He bent and lifted her to his knee, instinctively held her well away from the table and spoke to her in a gentle drawl. Presently he excused himself; it was his habit to take Denise for a walk in the garden.

The other three moved to the veranda for a cigarette. It was a somnolent afternoon. Crickets chirped and bright green parrots squawked as they perched in the trees. The sound of the sea merged with that of the wind, forming a drowsy background to conversation.

They saw the dustcloud from the track before the car itself was visible. With careful precision Melanie disposed of her cigarette, pushed back hair that was neatly curled. As she watched the bend where the large gray car was likely, within seconds, to make its appearance, her nerves tightened as though she were preparing for battle.

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Stephen came up
into the veranda, sardonically inclined his head.


You

re agreeably early,

exclaimed Lucille.

I hope you

re here for the rest of the day!


Thank you. I

d thought of inviting you all to the Miramar for dinner, but please yourselves.


Colin

s here for the weekend. We

ll go some other time. Sit down and have a cigarette.

Stephen took the wicker chair between the two women, accepted a cigarette and, through a curtain of smoke, gave Melanie a smile tinged with mockery.


Everything smooth?

he queried casually.


Quite,

she responded.

I

ve had a restful week.


So restful,

inserted Lucille,

that all my needlework is now up to date and there isn

t a minor repair left to do in the house.

She bent forward and peered anxiously down the garden.

I wonder where Colin has taken Denise. She didn

t have her sunbonnet.


I

ll find them.

With relief, Melanie dropped to the path and skirted the house. Those first minutes with Stephen had been suffocating. She had sat tense and still, knowing that Lucille, and perhaps Henry, expected from him some slight demonstration of affection toward the girl he was supposed to cherish above others. She had felt almost sick with longing, and even with disappointment. It was mad to be disappointed in Stephen, futile to make oneself ill with longing. She shook herself, tilted her chin. He was here, wasn

t he? And solely for her benefit. Well, then!

She found Colin mourning with Denise over a dead butterfly. Upon the child

s head perched a three-cornered hat made from a newspaper, and she thought how instinctively sensible he was with children. He pushed himself up from the grass and set Denise in the crook of one arm.


Have we been too long? This young lady is indefatigable.

Melanie moved slowly at his side.

She

s fond of you.


She

s not old enough to be really fond of anyone. Hello—

they had rounded the
corner
of the house

—isn

t that Stephen Brent

s car?


He

s on the veranda.


I wasn

t aware that he and Henry were acquainted.

For a harassed few seconds she tried to frame a reply, but they came within sight of the others and she had to give it up. Stephen had an arm on the wall and was quizzically watching their approach.


Quite the family man, Colin,

he said, and imperceptibly shifted his glance to Melanie as if including her in the remark.

Colin relinquished the baby to Lucille.

At that size they

re not
c
ritical. I make a better uncle than
I
do a golfer.

He grinned at his brother.

Stephen left me gasping on the course yesterday, and knocked the daylights out of me at tennis the day before. He

s one of those smashing terrors.


Only occasionally, when a foul phase is on me,

Stephen corrected him.

I

m always happier in the middle of a job than at the beginning or end.


Didn

t you find anything on Mindoa?

inquired Lucille.


Not in sufficient quantity to warrant mining—didn

t expect to. There

s a buried village on one of the hillsides.


A buried village! But that

s important.


Only as a tourist attraction, and it

s on our land. It

s more crude than anything of the type I

ve yet met with. If you

re interested, I

ll take you over.


Of course we

re interested. Maybe we could go tomorrow.

Lucille was at the door of the house.

You won

t mind if I take a nap? I

m sure you and Melanie have lots to talk about.


Lots,

he agreed, with smiling sarcasm.

Henry heaved out of his chair.

I

m trying out a new seed supplier. Want to take a look at a sample, Colin?

The younger man nodded readily, but with puzzlement. Stephen

s lips thinned, cynically.


You

re all very tactful. We

re grateful, aren

t we, Melanie?

She made no answer. Even when the others had wandered off she stayed at one end of the wicker bench, as far as she could get from him. It was Stephen who ended the long pause.


Nice man, Colin,

he said ruminatively.

I rather think that Henry is how advising him not to show quite such open admiration for you, and kicking himself for not telling him before that you

re booked.


I

m a bit tired of your brand of humor, Stephen. You overworked it with Ramon.


My dear girl, be thankful you haven

t to live with it for
a lifetime.

Stephen lazily stretched his feet to the rung of another chair.

I

ve some information for you. Senor Perez and Ramon are departing on a coastal vessel for Beira on Monday.


Oh.

Again she experienced a pang of regret for the old
senor’s
unhappiness.

I hope everything will go well for them now. I

ll always have the horrid feeling that I treated them shabbily.


Ramon

s heart isn

t a delicate instrument. It

ll mend—and his conceit will do the rest. Before long he

ll be persuading h
im
self that he did the turning down, not you.

He snapped his fingers, dismissing the volatile young Spaniard.

Elfrida

s sailing on Friday. She

ll pick up a liner at Bombay.


Is she going to England?


That seems to be her intention.


Have you seen her?


She came to see me, early in the week.

With an air of measuring each word, he added,

When I asked her to pack your clothes last Sunday I also demanded the necklace that Ramon gave you. She said she

d sold it, and I told her to buy it back. She did so, and brought it up to my house. The next morning I gave it to Ramon.


You mean you paid for it?


You wanted him to have it—to be completely clear of him, didn

t you?

Melanie could have wept. Stephen paying for her folly in accepting so costly a gift, Stephen facing Elfrida and Ramon for her, arranging everything as he knew she would prefer it.
And not even doing it for love—from pity, perhaps, or because they were both English and in a strange land—but not for love. He had said that he considered her a child, unfit as yet for marriage. She had the depressing conviction that, as usual, he was right. She looked down at the red stone of the veranda floor, her tones were low.


I don

t know how to thank you, Stephen.


For a start you might smile now and then.


That wouldn

t come so hard if you weren

t sharp and cynical most of the time.
I
daresay you feel that way about me, but it

s
..
.
discouraging.


You heard me tell Lucille just now that I invariably get irritable at the end of a job. God knows I don

t
want
to upset you.

For a minute she dared not turn his way. He had sounded different; vibrant and sincere. When she did meet his direct gray glance most of the coldness had gone from his expression and his smile was companionable.


Come on,

he said.

Let the tension out of your system and show me the estate.

As they wound along the main path he took her arm. The wind in the trees was like music, the flowers nodded and gossiped, and above arched the hot blue sky. They came to a new brick building with a fat cowled chimney, and went into the primitive interior.


This is Lucille

s distillery,

said Melanie.

She

s been making geranium essence.

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