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Authors: Kathryn Blair

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BOOK: The Primrose Bride
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Cath Rawling was in command of the kitchen and living room. Tables were stacked with cold chicken and tinned ham, salads, snacks, jars of caviare and fish dainties. A small band of mus
i
cians had grouped themselves in the garden, and the usual crop of islanders had collected on the outskirts, to watch and creep closer as the festivity gathered momentum.

Tonight, cars were left out on the road. Cath greeted everyone as if this were the first time she had seen them for a week, and accepted a couple of gifts; even in her best green frock she looked breezy and managing, more like a paid hostess than a woman celebrating her own birthday.

Drinks were served by the Rawlings

servants augmented by Anai; the music flowed in, guitars and leather bowl
-
drums combining pleasantly and exotically to provide a good dancing rhythm. But dancing hadn

t yet begun when
Camilla arrived.

She came hesitantly into the porch, stood there looking shy and very feminine in a golden yellow frock which billowed at the waist and was cut to enhance the curves and flatter the slender arms. Her black hair she had drawn back into a fashionable swathe, but tendrils clustered about her nape and escaped from the sleekness above her ears, so that she looked like a lovely girl trying hard to appear old
and responsible.


Good evening, Mrs. Rawling,

she said, in the moment

s silence she herself had created.

I really didn

t know whether to come or not. But I was alone, and I
though...”


Well, of course!

cried Cath Rawling, very heartily.

How is your poor father?


Better, thank you. He

s sleeping, and our houseboy is
on duty.”


Such a pity he had to crack up today. We

d hav
e
loved to have you both with us. You do know everyone, don t you, Camilla? Austin, dear, do give Camilla a drink!

Austin did, most readily.

Did you drive yourself here?

Karen hea
r
d him query.


I couldn

t very well drive in this get-up, could I. A neighbor was kind enough to bring me. I was terrified o
f
coming, but I did feel a little out of things and I

ve been saving up this dress for just such an occasion as this.


It

s stunning,

pronounced Austin.

Why in the world were you terrified of us?


Well,

winningly,

you

re rather a cold lot, you know, especially the women. My father always says government officers

wives are a special breed—a sort of tribe that they raise in England just for that purpose. Is that wicked?


It

s typical of an Englishman who can

t stand the English. If that

s the way he feels, it

s time your father dropped the colonel and became plain mister.


Oh, he wouldn

t do that,

came Camilla

s demure tones.

The Tuan Colonel is quite famous in the Leamans. You wouldn

t want him to lose his treasured atmosphere and become nondescript, would you? At his age?

Karen moved away, spoke to the Coppards and found herself
close
to Tony Horwell. Tony took her glass, gave her the smile which, she had noticed earlier in the day, had the faint tightness of strain.


I didn

t think she

d show up tonight,

he said.

But she has the brazen nerve to do anything.


I didn

t expect her myself,

Karen replied, low-voiced.

I

m afraid I was rather glad the Colonel was ill.


He

s not sick. If you went to his house you

d probably find him eating a rich dinner with his pals.

She searched his face.

Are you sure? But why the pretence? Camilla could have made some excuse for her father

s absence and spent the whole day with us.

“A
whole day was too much for Camilla

s purpose. There

s nothing intimate about a picnic, and by tonight she

d have been so easily accepted that she wouldn

t have made an entrance. You saw how she posed in the doorway.


A very beautiful picture.


A fresh and entran
ci
ng vision, intended to make other women look a bit stale.


You mean me.


She didn

t succeed,

he said at once,

but you do look tired, suddenly. I wish you wouldn

t take it so hard. Andrew doesn

t care about her any more.

Karen couldn

t explain what it was that made everything so futile. The careful seductive manner of Camilla, the rich gold frock which was an excr
u
ciatingly painful reminder of herself in sweet primrose yellow, standing beside a tall immaculate figure in grey.

She put on a bright smile.

She

s not important. Are you happy about getting a chance to do some research?

His smile was a trifle worn.

I

d be happier if I

d got it on merit. I don

t doubt that the Governor felt I could do the job, but I wouldn

t mind betting that the idea originated with Andrew. We don

t click any longer, and he wants me busy and out of the way.

He stopped speaking, and started again, hurriedly. Karen turned instinctively to find the cause. She saw that Andrew had come into the room, that he had crossed to speak to Camilla. She didn

t hear a word Tony said, but turned to him with the set smile.


Dance with me, Tony. Out on the veranda.

That was the sort of evening it turned out to be. Somehow she kept clear of Camilla till after midnight. She saw the gold dress swirling to music, the partners changing, Andrew

s easy smile and moving lips as he took his turn, just once. She herself danced twice with him, but ha
r
dly a thing was said between them; maybe he felt the shrinking of her skin from the touch of his hand, the tension of her nerves. A fleeting glance upward showed that he had the
tight dark look.

The party ended soon after midnight, simply because most of the guests were too worn to keep it up. They complimented Mrs. Rawling and thanked her profusely. They told Karen she was a sport to let them kick dents in the floor and fling powder all over the spare room, and they got into cars, or strolled away in the moonlight, Karen

s head throbbed, and because there was still some paraphernalia to go through with Mrs. Rawling, she slipped into her bedroom for a spot of eau de cologne. And there she found Camilla Marchant.

The other girl turned round from the lamplit mirror, blinked her dark-fringed eyes and said softly,

I

m so sorry.
I came late, if you remember, and I wasn

t sure which bedroom we were using.


Why apologize, if you thought you were in the correct room?

said Karen, as quietly.

I don

t mind your being here.

Camilla looked about her.

This looks as if it were only a woman

s room.

Her smile was confident as she added charmingly,

I did hope I

d see you alone, anyway. I feel I ought to tell you how deeply sorry I am that I was
so ...
so crude the day we first met. It was unhappiness that drove me to it, I

m afraid. I

m not usually so unwise. I do hope you

ve forgiven me.

Still stinging from that devastating comment on the room, Karen said offhandedly,

There was nothing to forgive.


You

re being restrained and noble; there was a great deal to forgive. I should never have put into words what I feel about Andrew, and certainly it was dreadful of me to tell you that he loves
...
loved me. Compared with his future, his feelings and mine aren

t terribly important. I did want you to understand.


Let us say I do understand, and leave it there.

Camilla shook her dark head despondently.

You don

t forgive me; that

s obvious. How can I prove that Andrew and his career mean more to me than my own happiness?


I don

t think it matters awfully,

said Karen stoically.

If you

re sincere, you

ll keep away from us both.


That sounds,

said Camilla, in subdued, hurt tones,

as if you

re afraid of me. What could I possibly do to
harm
you?


You made quite a good start with your letter to Lady Prichard.

Camilla

s mouth rounded innocent and soundlessly. She was displaying all the wide-eyed tolerance that a beautiful woman can afford to lavish upon her less fortunate sisters.

I couldn

t come here and tell you myself that I

d seen you with those men, could I
?
It would have looked as if I were blackmailing you. I was most careful how I worded the letter.


Naturally. You didn

t want to be dropped from the social circle before you

d been picked up again. I just don

t care for lies of that sort.


But it was true! You and Rita Vaughan did meet Ben Brooke.


But you didn

t see us. The man himself must have told you. He likes Rita but he doesn

t care for my type, so he felt a little avenged when he

d told you about meeting me. Perhaps the two of you cooked up that sweet and reasonable letter; you took care to omit any mention of Mrs. Vaughan.

Karen pressed a hand to the chilly skin of her face.

You and I haven

t a thing to say to each other. The rest of the guests have left.


I

m going.

In fact, Camilla was at the door.

There

s just one detail I ought to tell you, though. I don

t
know how it happened, but tonight I found myself asking Andrew whether you or Lady Prichard had told him about that little encounter you had with Ben Brooke. Of course, as soon as I

d spoken I wished I

d held my tongue, because I could tell it was the first he

d heard about it. He

ll probably be
a
bit cross with you, but I

m trying to atone by warning you, so that you

ll be prepared when he ask
s
about it.

The soft, insidious voice came to an end, the false smile turned momentarily into a triumphant smirk, and Camilla was gone. Her teeth clamped, Karen drew a deep breath and followed her. The Rawlings were in the veranda, waiting for Camilla, whom they were to take home.


Thanks so much Karen,

said Mrs. Rawling, in a voice so loud and hearty that it hurt.

My boys will be round to
clear
up first thing in the morning.


We were glad to help,

Karen managed.

It

s been
a
wonderful day.


A roaring success, though I say it myself. Well, goodnight, you two. Sleep well. Lucky tomorrow

s Sunday!

Karen forced herself to remain in the porch till their car had reversed. Then, without looking at Andrew, she said,

I

m terribly tired and it

s very late. I

m going straight to bed. Goodnight
.

He did not answer. Karen had the fatal conviction that he didn

t trust himself to speak a syllable. She got into bed and put out the light, thought hazily of Andrew with a little monkey in his hands and of herself clasping a solemn-eyed island toddler. She felt clammy and weak and utterly helpless.

They were back where they had been several days ago, but with the difference that Karen became acutely conscious of a sense of impending climax. Andrew, polite and indifferent, spoke only when it was unavoidable, and Karen, equally polite but two wretched to assume indifference, was almost completely silent. Andrew said nothing about Ben Brooke or Camilla, or about anyone else, come to that. Two days running he went off early in the morning to the other end of the island, returning only in time for a latish dinner.

BOOK: The Primrose Bride
13.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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