Stormy Haven (7 page)

It was at about ten o
’
clock that a middle-aged man with a pleasant smile upon his rather gaunt, tanned face, came to
Melanie and made the usual inquiry,
“
May I have the pleasure?
”

Melanie murmured,
“
Of course,
”
and lifted her arms.

For a minute they glided around without speaking. Then he said,
“
No doubt you think it odd that I asked you to dance without being previously introduced?
”

“
I wasn
’
t sure we hadn
’
t. I
’
ve met so many people tonight.
”

“
D
’
you mind if we go outside? I
’
d like a word with you.
”

“
Not at all.
”

She couldn
’
t imagine what this stranger would find to say to her, but he had very blue eyes that she felt she could trust. She passed him and went out to the terrace, sat on a bench and watched him curiously as he sat down beside her and took out a cigarette. His nails were well-shaped but blunt, as if he worked with his hands.

“
Will you smoke?
”

“
No, thank you.
”

He lighted up and methodically placed the dead match in an ashtray on the low metal table at his knee.

“
You
’
ll be wondering what the deuce I
’
m up to, getting you out here like this. As a matter of fact, I was standing near you when the young man was presenting you to some of his friends, and I heard your name. Am I right in assuming John Paget was a relative of yours?
”

“
John! Yes, he was my cousin.
”
She looked at him in sudden eagerness.
“
Did you know him here, on the island?
”

“
Very well. He was my closest friend.
”

“
I
’
m so glad,
”
she said sincerely.
“
I always had an idea that he was lonely and friendless. It
’
s good to hear that he wasn
’
t
.
”

“
He was lonely, particularly when he came back after his marriage.
”
He paused.
“
Miss Paget, did you come to Mindoa with his widow?
”

“
Yes. We
’
re at the hotel.
”
On the point of demanding that he visit them there, she halted. Elfrida was emphatically against meeting any of John
’
s friends, or even people who had known of him. Yet, if this man had been
close to John he would naturally wish to know Elfrida.

“
What is she like—Mrs. Paget?
”

She hesitated.
“
Dark and beautiful. She wasn
’
t too well on the boat, and it may be some little while before she
’
s able to get around much.
”

“
That suits me. I
’
ve no wish to contact Elfrida Paget till I
’
ve grown accustomed to her presence on Mindoa.
”
No bitterness in his measured voice, only perhaps a shade of contempt.
“
Why is she here?
”

“
It
’
s a private matter, to do with the plantation.
”

“
Oh.
”
He smoked for a moment.
“
I ought to have told you that my name is Henry Jameson.
”

Melanie sat carefully still. Jameson, the plantation manager! The man upon whom Elfrida was preparing to heap blame for her reduced income. Incredible that he could have let the place go. She had known him less
than
ten minutes, yet she would wager that he was not only an excellent farmer but an honest one. And besides, he had a quiet air of breeding.

“
You
’
re a little bit like John,
”
he said,
“
but I
’
d hate to think you
’
d be pushed around as he was. Maybe it would be best if you forgot having seen me tonight.
”

“
Say nothing about you to Elfrida?
”

He nodded.
“
And do me a favor, will you? Put her off going to the plantation. I had to come into town on business today, which explains my presence at the Miramar tonight, but in an hour or so I shall drive back. When I
’
m ready to deal with Mrs. Paget I
’
ll have an interview with her at the hotel.
”

Somewhat out of her depth, Melanie said,
“
Supposing I can
’
t dissuade her from visiting the plantation?
”

He smiled; Melanie had the feeling that had they been longer acquainted he would paternally have patted her shoulder.

“
She
’
s difficult, is she? Well, it wouldn
’
t be catastrophic if she did come, but do your best to keep her away.
”

Other questions crowded into Melanie
’
s mind, but there was no time to voice them. Ramon had emerged onto the terrace, was bowing and glancing with some hostility at her companion.

“
I promised your cousin that I would take you home early,
”
he said stiffly.

Henry Jameson rose.
“
Thank you for the dance, Miss Paget. Good night.
”

Ramon stood straight and silent till the other man had disappeared. Then he shrugged.
“
He is just one of the planters. They do not often patronize the Miramar. Come, Melanie, the car has been brought to the front.
”

She was scarcely conscious of Ramon as they drove along the palm-lined roads toward the center of the town. He spoke and she answered, but it was of Henry Jameson that she thought; Henry Jameson, who had evidently been a staunch friend of John and for fairly obvious reasons was an enemy of John
’
s widow. She wished there were someone with whom she could discuss the subject, but could think of no one but Stephen—and he would probably advise her to mind her own business.

At the hotel Ramon helped her from the car.

“
Thank you for a wonderful evening,
”
she said.

“
When can I see you again?
”

“
I
’
m afraid I can
’
t make any appointments.
”

“
Then I must once more cross a gentle sword with your cousin.
”
He raised her hand to his lips, turned his cheek to its smoothness and gazed at her with glinting eyes.
“
Good night, Melanita...
chica
.
”

He was gone, racing around the driveway
w
ith the maniac speed of youth overcharged with emotion.

Elfrida had gone to bed. Melanie teetered at her door, decided not to face her cousin tonight, and went to her own bedroom.

As she had anticipated, Elfrida complained next morning of having been awake half the night with a migraine. She sent for remedies and suspected them all because the pharmacist was not English. Melanie came in for pettish scolding because the fingers with which she massaged the aching brow were not cool enough, because the iced drinks tasted of the disinfectant with which the hotel water had been treated, because the servant who was tidying a bedroom along the corridor persisted in singing.

In the afternoon came an hour or two of blessed respite; Elfrida slept. Melanie put on a hat and ventured into the open air. She looked into the shops, and stood on the corner of a narrow side
road enjoying a restricted view of the dazzling blue bay. Presently she turned from the main road into a street of pink-washed houses ornamented with sculpture birds, fishes and flowers. Indian women in saris were hanging out washed garments and dyed lengths of material. Their men had vivid turbans and white cotton suits and the children wore pajamas.

Another street of meaner shops had an offshoot of clean
whitewashed dwellings with bamboo blinds and an atmosphere of inscrutability. An old Chinese sat in the shade of a wall and puffed contentedly at the very long stem of a very small pipe. Two youths were carpentering a chair apiece, flimsy things with grass seats. A group of almond-eyed girls sat in a tiny veranda, weaving; incuriously, they watched Melanie pass on to the end of the lane and turn into the Marine Drive.
Here the color and noise were clamorous. Melanie would have retreated had not a tall figure in white detached itself from the mass and advanced upon her.

“
For Pete
’
s sake! This is no place for you—there
’
s a sale on.
”
Stephen firmly took her arm and marched her across the road to the shade of a tree.
“
Don
’
t tell me you
’
re shop gazing again.
”

“
No. Just strolling. Port Fernando is so fascinating.
”

He was sharply examining her face.
“
You
’
re pale. Had a fright?
”

She smiled, for the first time today.
“
Of course not I
’
m always pale.
”

“
Not so pale as this, and you
’
re tired as well. What is it—a hangover from the heavy dinner date?
”

“
You get to know everything, don
’
t you,
”
she said.

“
Not quite. I happened to dine at the Miramar last night with Colonel and Mrs. Davidson.
”

“
I didn
’
t see you there.
”

“
Why should you? The black, passionate eyes of Ramon were much nearer,
”
he said indifferently.
“
Come and have some tea.
”

“
I ought to go back to the hotel.
”

“
All right. We
’
ll have tea there.
”

Fifteen minutes later they were in the corner of the hotel lounge, and Melanie was pouring from a flowered china pot. Automatically she added cream and two lumps of sugar to Stephen
’
s cup before placing it near him.

“
I don
’
t take cream,
”
he said.

“
I remember now. Have mine.
”

“
I
’
ll brave it.
”
He rested back in his chair, regarding her shrewdly.
“
Feeling the heat?
”

“
Don
’
t stare at me as if I were a monkey in a cage. The tea was your suggestion.
”

“
You didn
’
t answer. Are you feeling the heat?
”

“
No, I
’
m not.
”
She couldn
’
t explain that she was weary from Elfrida
’
s tantrums, worried about Mr. Jameson.

“
There
’
s nothing bothering you?
”
he persisted.

“
You
’
re doing a spot of bothering.
”

She saw his mouth compress with incipient anger, and felt even worse than before. What did she expect of Stephen? Soft phrases, a brotherly arm about her shoulder and a secure repository for her troubles? He just wasn
’
t that type.

“
Have a cigarette,
”
he said coolly.
“
It may steady those hot nerves of yours.
”

For several minutes nothing was said between them. Stephen
’
s next remark was disconcerting.
“
You don
’
t like me, do you?
”

After a few seconds she said,
“
You prefer to be disliked. It gives you good grounds for disliking in return.
”

“
You
’
re mixing up dislike with distaste. I do have rather an antipathy for the callow and naive, and I
’
m not very tolerant of fools. But I admire intelligence, and I
’
ve never yet refused to help anyone. You might keep that in mind.
”

She stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette, cast him a quick look.
“
Thanks for the offer, but I
’
ll get through.
”

His shoulders lifted, the high-bridged nose drew in slightly at the nostrils.
“
Please yourself. But if you get into a romantic tangle with the young Spaniard you
’
ll find it a hell of a job to wriggle clear again.
”

“
I won
’
t get into a tangle. Ramon is a friend, that
’
s all.
”

“
Are you
s
ure that
’
s his viewpoint, too?
”

“
I don
’
t see what it matters whether it is or not.
”
She was impatient of the topic and annoyed to find that her throat was rough and salty, as if with tears. It was an unpleasant and unfamiliar sensation. She didn
’
t intend to drop a tear in front of Stephen, though.

“
You
’
d better assume the obedient smile,
”
he said with a hint of sarcasm.
“
Elfrida has just come into the lounge.
”

He pushed up out of his seat and signaled, brought forward another chair. Elfrida reached them, tall and slender in a swinging black skirt and a matt-white blouse that swathed her closely and was caught together at her breast with a large brooch of opals and seed pearls; her smooth, creamy cheeks and long brow showed no signs of this morning
’
s migraine.

She sent a brief, spearlike glance from Melanie to Stephen and moved her thin red lips in a smile.

“
Will you have some tea?
”
Stephen asked.

“
They brought mine to my room. Didn
’
t Melanie tell you I was up there?
”

“
No, but I guessed you were.
”
He offered cigarettes, winked mockingly at Melanie when she politely declined.
“
I met this child in town and brought her home. I was coming here anyway at about cocktail time. There
’
s a bit of a show on tonight—Indian juggling and dancing. I thought we three could have dinner and go along to see it.
”

In spite of her preoccupation Melanie
’
s eyes brightened.
“
Indian dancers! I
’
d love that.
”