Stormy Haven (22 page)

“
Phew!
”
He picked up one of the small wooden casks.
“
What does she do with the stuff?
”

“
It goes to a perfumer and soapmaker in France. They take the patchouli, ilang-ilang—whatever she sends.
”

Stephen read out the wording on a label.
“
Pure Essence of Geranium, de Vaux Distillery, Mindoa.
”
He looked up.
“
Is Lucille a de Vaux?
”

“
The only one left on the island. They
’
re an old and famous family.
”
This was an opening, but Melanie shied away from it.
“
She copied the layout of this place from those she saw in the Bordeaux district. The vat and filters were actually brought from France.
”

“
She
’
s a sound sort of woman,
”
he said.
“
Your coming here was a wise step. The longer you stay the better pleased they
’
ll be.
”

It was no use trying any longer to put off telling him. Both his mood and the trend of the conversation might have been framed for her purpose. Still, her accents were husky with apprehension as she answered.

“
They
’
re already like old friends. In fact, they
’
ve invited me to stay on for two or three months.
”
Briefly, she outlined the work to be done on the de Vaux chronicles.
“
Lucille and Henry seem quite certain I can do it, and it will be wonderfully interesting. I shall feel at last as if I
’
m some good in the world.
”

“
That
’
s a damn silly thing to say! I thought you had more sense than to take yourself at Elfrida
’
s valuation. There are times when I could shake you.
”

She laughed a little tremulously, turned from contemplation of the big iron vat.
“
Why don
’
t you?
”

“
Because I
’
m afraid it would hurt you mentally rather than physically,
”
he told her grimly,
“
and I might find myself kissing away the tears instead.
”

After a crackling pause she said,
“
That would never do,
”
and went to the door.
“
Then you don
’
t object to my remaining here after you
’
ve gone?
”

“
Not if it will make you happy.
”
She heard the dull click as he replaced the cask upon the concrete slab with the others.
“
You realize the weather will be hot and stormy, and there
’
s dengue fever near the sea in these places? The Jamesons are hardened against the tropical wet season, but you aren
’
t.
”

“
I
’
m healthy. I can stand it.
”

“
They
’
ll watch over you, anyway.
”

Inevitably, she asked the question,
“
Have you fixed your sailing date?
”

“
Not yet. The
Tjisande
is due in Bombay a week before Christmas. I
’
d thought of us both going aboard there and disembarking at
Alexandria, where I
’
d have put you on a boat for Southampton. The
Tjisande
always finishes at Marseilles.
”

Unconsciously, Melanie clenched her hands at her sides. The
Tjisande
again, with Stephen but no Elfrida. Aden, Suez, Alexandria—and then the drop; a boat for Southampton, without Stephen.

“
Will you make the same journey alone?
”

“
Now that you
’
ve settled yourself here for
a spell, there
’
s no need for me to hang on so long. I
’
ll hop a freighter and fly from Bombay to Cairo.
”
She felt him take her arm again, lead her out into the lane fringed by flaming hibiscus.
“
On the whole I
’
d prefer to think of you on Mindoa with the Jamesons than kicking around in London. Will you promise not to take a ship for home without letting me know?
”

“
No.
”

Just slightly his hand tightened around her elbow.
“
You
’
d better, my child. In any case, I
’
ll give that instruction to Henry.
”

In an access of anguish she dragged away from him.
“
Stephen, you
’
ve already done far too much for me, and I can
’
t hope to repay one little bit. I
’
m not the gullible youngster you rescued from beggars in Aden. It may not be very apparent, but I
’
ve put on
a few years since then, and I
’
m quite capable of taking myself home and earning a living. When we say goodbye let it be
...
final.
”

“
Well, well,
”
he said with satire.
“
This sounds like a scene from an old play. If we
’
re looking so far ahead, why shouldn
’
t we meet in London next year? We
’
ll go places together—a concert for you and the theater for me.
”
His eyes changed suddenly, went icy.
“
You
’
re the most exasperating creature I ever had dealings with. You lied about the scar on your neck to protect Elfrida, whitewashed Ramon and were filled with remorse over the
senor
.
Perhaps if I were to push you through a window or purposefully and violently make love to you, you
’
d go all tender about me, too!
”

She was walking rapidly, entering one of the thickets which sprang up wherever a patch of soil was left uncultivated. Stephen strode at her side, slashing here at a leaning bamboo, there at a tall, succulent weed that protruded in the path. There were luscious green banana plants, big, effulgent tropic trees, scarlet-splashed shrubs, but Melanie saw none of them. Her throat ached, her whole being was parched; the thudding of her heart was so heavy that it seemed to shake her.

On a breathless note of challenge, she said,
“
What use would you have for tenderness? You ridicule softness in any form. To you, it
’
s a sign of immaturity, and heaven knows you
’
ve done your best to knock that out of me. If you haven
’
t quite succeeded it
’
s because I
’
m one of those idiots who believe that the hardest person has one vulnerable spot.
”

“
Except me,
”
he said.
“
You don
’
t believe that of me.
”

The excitement and despair went out of her. She put out a hand to gain the support of a tree trunk and her glance went no higher than his chin.
“
I
didn
’
t mean to argue with you, Stephen,
”
she whispered.
“
It
’
s simply that
I
feel bad sometimes about your generosity, as well as your imperviousness.
”

“
I
know,
”
he said with surprising gentleness,
“
and
I
behave like something out of the jungle.
”

Without haste or roughness he pulled her against him and held her for a while. Tears squeezed from under Melanie
’
s lids. This closeness without vestige of passion was exquisite torture. What did she lack that Stephen needed in a woman
... what? A bond existed between them but it had no strength, no durability, and if he sailed away soon it would perish. A panic of fright rose in her and the tears ran faster.

“
You were due for this a long time ago,
”
Stephen said.
“
Here, use my hankie.
”

Presently she drew away from him and blew her nose.
“
That was childish.
”

“
Don
’
t apologize,
”
with a trace of teasing in his voice.
“
We
’
re engaged, aren
’
t we, and you
’
re young enough to weep without looking ugly. Let
’
s make a bargain—not another angry word before we part. It
ma
y tax you a bit, but it will be worth it. I
’
ll be a model
fiancé
of the old-fashioned type—in fact, you may even end up by wishing the engagement were genuine.
”

She gave him a washed-out smile.
“
What would you do about that?
”

“
I
’
m not sure, but I don
’
t think I
’
d marry you. A bogus engagement isn
’
t too easy to tolerate, but a bogus marriage would be plain hell.
”

She shrugged a little wearily,
“
I
’
ll never understand you, Stephen.
”

“
Go on trying, my sweet. I
’
m only a man after all.
”

A remark that Melanie was to recall again and again in the months to come.

They went down to the beach. Stephen talked lightly, explained for the first time some of his findings upon analysis of the island rocks. They climbed to watch the great patches of blowing flowers and meandered among the coffee trees, and when finally they returned to the house the veranda table was set for tea and Lucille and the other two men were drinking their first cups.

On Sunday the five of them drove out to Stephen
’
s various diggings. He had discovered the ancient village accidentally, had been curious about something that, from his car, had looked like several blighted trees smothered in coarse grass and vines. Poking around with a steel hoe he had found under the soil stone columns instead of tree trunks, and later his party of coolies had worked their way down the hillside, disclosing the remains of walls decorated with crude chevrons and soapstone effigies. There were also evidences of old diggings.

“
They were probably Southern Arabians or Indians after gold,
”
said Stephen,
“
but there
’
s not a speck on Mindoa. They fared better in Africa.
”

“
One day,
”
said Lucille with a twinkle,
“
someone will dig out the de Vaux chateau, and people
w
ill say,
‘
A relic of the French occupation. How cute!
’”

“
We
’
ll have it signposted and recorded,
”
put in Henry truculently.

Stephen lifted his shoulders.
“
Perhaps I
’
ve seen too much of this kind of thing to get thrilled about it. Being a geologist rather dulls one
’
s sense of history and romance.
”

“
But Melanie tells us you don
’
t object to her writing up the de Vaux chronicles,
”
said Lucille.