The Young Nightingales (13 page)

Read The Young Nightingales Online

Authors: Mary Whistler

BOOK: The Young Nightingales
3.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

For how long the kiss lasted she was never able to tell, but when he drew away from her he was looking distinctly pale, and she was trembling. He jumped to his feet, and she heard him
say
:

“I shouldn’t have done that! I do apologise
!”

She got to her feet also, and she asked breathlessly:

“Why? I
...
didn’t mind!”

“I hadn’t the smallest right.”

“But I tell you I didn’t mind
!”
She flung out her hands like an appealing child.

And then her face burned scarlet, for he turned his back on her and walked back to the car, and she had perforce to follow him. They drove back to St. Vaizey without stopping for
tea, and so little conversation passed between them that it was almost a silent drive. Jane, reasonably certain about the reason for his behaviour, felt deathly miserable. She had flung herself at his head, and he was, of course, in love with Chantal. Kissing her had been the result of a moment’s temptation, that was all.

And yet she knew she would never forget his kiss. Every time she glanced at him and saw how fiercely he concentrated on the road ahead, and how curiously rigid was the set of his mouth, she was inclined to suspect, despite Chantal, that he would not forget it, either.

He drove her all the way back to the villa, and just before they swung into the road leading to it he said, as if he had been thinking the matter over and felt that he had to make her understand one thing very clearly at least:

“I didn’t take you out for the purpose of making love to you, Jane
...
and I don’t normally do that sort of thing. I haven’t,” he added drily, “the time for it, for one thing.”

“And you are going to marry Mademoiselle d’Evremonde, aren’t you?” she stated rather than asked in a conversational way.

His reaction startled her. He stopped the car before they reached the villa gates and turned in his seat and looked at her with a kind of icy indignation.

“No, I am not
!”
he answered her. “I am not, do you understand? At the moment, if it is of any
i
nterest to you, I am not contemplating marrying anyone
...
But I think it would be a good thing for you if you stopped deceiving yourself and married your Roger. Habit is strong, and you’ll probably find before very long that he has become a chronic habit, despite what you said to me today. You grew up with the idea of marrying him eventually. He is a countryman of yours, a close contact of your family, someone you can trust. And he is Madame Bowman’s nephew
!”

She turned to him with a somewhat peculiar little smile on her lips. She was beginning to suspect that she knew what he was driving at.

“Shall I tell you something?” she said. “Although I’ve known Roger for years he’s never really—kissed me. Not as you kissed me today! And I certainly wouldn’t have known how to kiss him back in the way I—kissed you
!”

Then she turned away from him and fumbled with the handle of her door, and she would have leapt out into the road and run along it to the gates of the villa. But he prevented her. He leaned across her and caught her hand, then carried it up against his cheek and held it there, although anyone coming along the road could have observed them.

“Thank you, little Jane,” he said softly, and there was a wonderful depth of tenderness in his eyes. “Perhaps, after all, you do see things very clearly, and you may really know what you are talking about. But we have to be absolutely sure! I, for one, cannot afford to make a mistake
!”

Five minutes later she was upstairs in her room in the villa, and it was then that she received a shock.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE house had seemed very silent when she entered it, and it had never even occurred to her that Madame Bowman was entertaining visitors in the drawing-room. It was past the hour for afternoon tea, but it was always possible that someone would drop in for a drink and a chat.

When Florence came tapping urgently at her door, therefore, she was not at first surprised to learn that there was someone below with her employer. But a certain look in Florence’s face—an intrigued look—excited her curiosity, and she asked while she lifted out a dress from her wardrobe for the evening:

“Who is it, Florence? Anyone I know? Do you want me to go downstairs and relieve Madame of the burden of talking to them?”

Florence grinned slightly behind her hand. “Well, it might be as well if you go down,
miss
. The gentleman’s a friend of yours, and there’s another young man. I was told to fetch you as soon as you came in.”

“A friend of mine? And another young man
...?

Jane felt startled. It couldn’t be her American friend, for Mrs. Bowman would scarcely
think
it necessary to entertain him in the drawing
room during her absence. And in any case, who was the other young man
?

She saw Florence smirking behind her hand, and felt mildly annoyed.

“You might just as well tell me, Florence,” she said. “It can’t be anyone terribly important.”

“Can’t it?” Florence displayed her ill-fitting dentures as she grinned. “Well, you go down and find out for yourself, miss.” She was tu
rnin
g away to go back to her kitchen when a thought struck her, and she turned back to Jane, an expression of lively interest in her face this time. “By the way, miss, did you and the doctor have a good time
?
Mrs. Bowman was most surprised when he telephoned. She didn’t know you’d become such good friends
!”

Jane was changing hastily into the dress she had selected, and she had neither the time nor the inclination to answer Florence. She seized a comb and ran it through her hair, wielded a lipstick hastily, and then sprayed herself with some revivifying toilet-water. After which she glanced at herself hastily in the mirror and slipped past Florence, murmuring something about having had a very nice day, thank you, and made her way to the overcrowded drawing
-
room.

It certainly did seem overcrowded when she opened the door to discover, in addition to the pot-plants and the latest addition to the lovebirds preening themselves in their gilded case, a tall man with a distinguished head and shoulders who was standing in front of the flower-filled fireplace, while an almost equally tall and slender youth in what was obviously his best suit and an
alm
ost
painfully clean collar and tie was making overtures to the love-birds and looking, otherwise, rather-like a fish out of water.

“Roger
!”

The word left Jane’s lips in such complete astonishment that it brought Roger Bowman round to face her with a distinctly wry expression in his eyes.

“Why the utter amazement?” he asked. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Of course not. That is ... I didn’t know who it was
!”

Roger glanced at his aunt, and the wry expression increased in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me she’s made so many gentlemen friends since she’s been here that any one of them might turn up at any moment,” he said.

Mrs. Bowman, who was looking rather more thoughtful than delighted at the unexpected arrival of her nephew, smiled very faintly in answer, and then pointed out to Jane that she hadn’t yet welcomed her brother. She made some observation about him being unusually tall for his age, and not in the least like Jane to look at, and then smiled with rather more pleasure as Jane advanced to clasp Toby delightedly ... but was rebuffed by Toby himself, who drew back hastily and offered her his hand instead.

“Don’t make a scene, Jane,” he implored, with schoolboy horror. “It’s only a few weeks since you saw me last, and I haven’t really altered in that time. But I must say you’re looking pretty fit yourself,” and he grinned at her with unabashed pleasure. “Isn’t she, Roger? Looks as if Switzerland agrees with her
!”

“Very
fit ...
surprisingly fit.”

But Roger’s tone was somewhat dry, for Jane hadn’t advanced one step in his direction to offer him her hand, and his expression grew frankly reproachful as she stood clutching at her young brother’s sleeve and asking him all sorts of eager questions about his journey.

“How did you get here? Did you fly? And why are you here so much sooner than we expected?” She was determined to include Mrs. Bowman in the conversation, for Roger was, after all, her nephew, and therefore he had a legitimate excuse for visiting Switzerland and the Villa Magnolia which need have nothing to do with Mrs. Bowman’s companion. “We were hoping to find you a villa. I saw some agents last week...”

Toby explained that his mother couldn’t wait, and as there had been an outbreak of measles in his school which had forced it to close before the school holidays he had been thrilled to bits when
Roger said he could accompany him on a kind of exploratory mission.

“We’re going to try and find a house, and then my mother will join us, and maybe Conway, too.” He walked eagerly to the window and looked up at the snows sparkling on the wall of mountains on the other side of the lake. “Is it possible to climb one of those?” he asked. “I mean, if you’re not a proper climber? Do you think I could get to the top of one of them?”

“Well...” Jane
explained that she had been a little way up a mountain that day, and it was wonderful. “But I expect you’ll have to wait until you’re a bit older before you can really climb.”

Mrs. Bowman looked round, and—losing her detached expression momentarily—asked her whether she had enjoyed her day. Jane, amazed that she could appear so calm and almost disinterested when a visit from her nephew was something she had long looked forward to—answered truthfully that she had enjoyed it very much
...
and Roger walked across to her and put his hands on her shoulders and asked her reproachfully whether she hadn’t got a word for
him.

“When I suggested your coming out here to my aunt I didn’t think Switzerland would claim you like this,” he said. “Excursions into the mountains with some unknown when I imagined you typing letters and getting over the shock of your experiences in comparative solitude.” He shook her very, very gently. “What’s happened to you, Jane? Have you grown away from us, or is it simply my imagination?”

Jane managed to detach herself, but the movement was quite noticeable, and she answered hurriedly that she didn’t
think
she had
changed. There certainly hadn’t been time for that.

Roger appealed to his aunt.

“But she
is
changed, Aunt. She’s not even pleased to see me
!”

“Isn’t she?” Mrs. Bowman spoke drily. “Well, to me Jane seems exactly the same as she was when she came out here
...
except that she’s not
quite
so unhappy.” She looked shrewdly at her nephew, and at the same time her eyes reproached him a little. “You can’t expect a young woman who has survived a
famil
y
upheaval such as she had to survive to appear exactly light-hearted and inclined to welcome anyone who perhaps failed to support her at that most difficult phase of her existence after only a few weeks
!”

Roger frowned.

“I
f you mean me, I was so distressed for Jane that I knew the only thing to do was to send her away.”

“W
as it?

His aunt’s eyebrows went up.

You surprise me. I personally would have recommended some other treatment. However,
I do realise I was not on the spot, so I am not able to judge.” She smiled with exceptional sweetness at Jane. “Roger wants you to dine with them tonight. They’re staying at the Continental.”

Jane instantly looked as if the very idea alarmed her considerably. Then she thought of an excuse.

“Oh, but I’ve been out all day and I couldn’t leave you tonight,” she said quite firmly. “Tomorrow, perhaps—”

“You
are
pleased to see me,” Roger murmured with irony.

Jane stuck to her guns.

“I think Toby ought to go to bed early tonight, and tomorrow he’ll feel much fresher, and—perhaps we could meet and do something together ... if Mrs. Bowman has no objection,” she added hurriedly.

“I have no objection to anything you wish to do, my dear,” Mrs. Bowman informed her placidly.

“Then—then perhaps lunch? Here? All of us!”

“I’m sure that would be very nice,” Mrs. Bowman agreed, but there was a sudden bright sparkle of amusement in her elderly eyes as they swung round to her nephew’s face. “Don’t you agree, Roger?”

He looked as if he could not have disagreed with more fervour.

“I’d like to have a word with you, Jane,” he said, obviously coming to a decision. “Toby, there

s a canoe in the boat-house and a punt moored to the landing-stage at the bottom of the garden. Run down and see if you think they’re seaworthy, only don’t drown yourself ... Jane,” looking at her as if he would hypnotise her into obeying him,

show me the
corner
of the garden you like best. And in case you’re afraid my aunt won’t be able to manage without your ministrations may I remind you that you’ve absented yourself from her all day! Now!
...
” He stood aside for her to precede him into the conservatory. “This way leads to the garden
!”
Jane directed one wild glance of appeal at her employer, but Mrs. Bowman was doing something to her spectacles, and paid no attention whatsoever. Jane realised that there was no getting out of it, and took a step towards the open conservatory door. A few seconds later she was on the lawn with Roger.


Well!

he said, and he sounded pretty grim as soon as they were alone. “I’ve come out here to marry you, Jane, and there’s no point in your behaving as if you haven’t a clue why I’ve come all this way
...
neglecting one or two rather important clients, I might tell you.”

“Then you shouldn’t have done so.” She couldn’t really believe that he had done anything of the kind, and it only gradually sank in that he was in earnest. “Besides, I understood from Miranda that you and she were to share a villa ... It sounded rather an odd arrangement, but before I left England you were so concerned with Miranda’s wellbeing that I naturally supposed you were still very much preoccupied with her.”

“Jane
!”
He took her by the arm, and sounded as if he was genuinely surprised that she could so
misjudge him ...
surprised and hurt. “Would I be so indiscreet as to set up an establishment with your stepmother?
...
even a temporary one! The arrangement was that you, or my aunt, should look for a villa for her, and I would stay where I am staying now ... at the Continental. Why, my dear child,” as if the magnitude of what she had believed was startling him further, “haven’t you and I always known that one day we would be something much more to one another than mere good friends? When you were a child you turned to me with your problems, when you were a schoolgirl I singled you out for the most noticeable attentions
...
Your father was fully aware that I contemplated becoming his son-in-law just as soon as you were old enough to take on the burdens of marriage, and even Miranda knew that. Why, she and I have talked about it only recently.”

“When you discovered that she had plans to marry you herself, and you weren’t so keen on that happening?” She looked up at him with contempt and wrenched away her arm. “I don’t forget the day of my father’s funeral,” she said, in a small, tense voice. “It was all Miranda then, and what she had suffered, and you even dared to criticise my father! And as for marrying me ... if marriage was ever seriously in your thoughts why didn’t you say something about it on that awful day I shall never forget? Instead of quoting Miranda to me as if you were hypnotised by her, and suggesting only that I should take a job with your aunt ... in Switzerland! Not for a few weeks, but as a kind of permanency. For I don’t think you intended visiting me so soon when you made the arrangement, did you
?
At that time you were under a spell
!”

“What nonsense you’re talking, Jane,” he said. But as she watched him to take note of the changes in his expression she realised that he couldn’t deny it. He had been under a
spell ...
but apparently the spell had lifted.

“It isn’t nonsense. It’s nothing more nor less than the truth, and if you’re honest you’ll admit it.” "

“And if I admit it will you forgive me
...
and marry me?”

She shook her head.

“I couldn’t marry you, Roger, under any circumstances.”

“Why not?” There was a certain aggressive note in his voice again, although he looked abashed. “I’ve told my aunt that I’ve come out here to ask you to
marry me ...
and you’ll disappoint her very much indeed if you won’t even consider it. Apparently she’s grown very fond of you, and she’d love to have you for a niece.”

“Did she suggest that you should propose to me as quickly as possible before I returned this afternoon?”

“No ... No, as a matter of fact she asked me a lot of questions about you, and why I hadn’t asked you to marry me before I let you leave England.” He frowned. “Of course, I don’t know how much social life you’ve been having out here since you joined her, but she did rather paint a picture of you becoming rather popular, and apparently you went out today with some man. Who was it?” frowning very blackly. “She wouldn’t say.”

Jane’s eyes gleamed quickly with relief.

“Then I won’t, either. It was just a kind of excursion.”

Other books

The Silent Love by Diane Davis White
The Troubled Man by Henning Mankell
Death Train to Boston by Dianne Day
Knight's Captive by Holt, Samantha
The Guild by Jean Johnson
The Twilight Lord by Bertrice Small