Authors: Unknown
“What’s wrong?’he murmured in her ear, feeling her sudden resistance.
“You know what’s wrong,” rasped Lorna. “You know how I feel about you.” She shook her head free, trying to push herself away.
He grinned infuriatingly and pulled her hand to his lips. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A tremor ran along her arm at the warm sensuous touch of his mouth. Aware of her reaction, he was quick to take advantage. Pulling her close again, he lowered his head; she felt his breath warm against her face; his lips sought the soft curve of her cheek and his eyes danced wickedly close to hers.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Lorna was furious and struggled to free herself from his all too tight embrace. “Let me go, you’ll have everyone looking at us!” Annoyance that his touch should have aroused her feelings adding strength to her words.
“Only if you insist on struggling,” he whispered back. “They’re all too busy with their own partners to notice us.”
Looking round, Lorna saw that he was right. The slow rhythm and dim lighting had induced an aura of romance over the gyrating couples. They were each in a world of their own, oblivious to those around them. She saw Wesley with the ship’s nurse, Fay with her head on Keenan’s shoulder. It’s a good job her husband can’t see her now, thought Lorna briefly, although she knew Fay would never be unfaithful to Gordon. Fay believed in having a good time but was careful to let everyone know that she was happily married. Ashley watched her, amused. “Well, am I right? Do you still insist on struggling?”
Lorna shrugged. “There’s not much point.”
“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses,” pulling her head on to his shoulder again. He hummed softly as they danced, but Lorna’s pleasure had been spoiled. Maybe if he had not tried to kiss her it would have been different, but having been forcibly reminded what sort of man he was she waited impatiently for the waltz to finish.
When the music stopped Lorna saw Wesley looking for her and as the band was now taking a break and refreshments were available she excused herself, darting away towards him.
“I didn’t know you were a friend of Ashley Ward’s,” said Wes, taking her arm and edging through the crowd.
“He’s no friend of mine,” she asserted. “I only met him this morning. I’m glad to escape.”
“You sound very sure of yourself. You certainly looked friendly enough when you were dancing.” There was a hint of aggression in Wes’s voice.
“It’s a pity you couldn’t hear what we were saying,” declared Lorna emphatically, “then you’d have known. That man thinks everyone will fall at his feet, but he’s got another think coming as far as I’m concerned!”
Wesley smiled and squeezed her arm encouragingly. “I’m glad to hear that. I must confess I was a little disappointed when I saw you together. Let me know if you have any trouble.”
“Thanks, Wes, but I can manage. Phew, it’s hot in here, shall we take our sandwiches outside?”
It seemed that most people had the same idea. The deck was crowded, but after a while the couples drifted back inside until Lorna and Wes were left alone. They leaned over the rail watching the bow wave as it sped by faintly illumined by the glow from the ship. Above a myriad stars twinkled in the dark night sky and a crescent moon hung as though suspended by an invisible cord.
Wes placed his hand over Lorna’s. “I’m glad you haven’t taken to that Ward fellow. He’s not your type at all.”
He sounded so sincere that Lorna laughed. “What is my type, then?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Someone like me, I suppose, a decent hardworking chap who doesn’t chase every girl he sees. Don’t get me wrong. I’d like nothing better than to see more of you, but it wouldn’t be fair. I love my job and have no intention of leaving, so it wouldn’t be right to make demands on a girl.”
“I know what you mean,” agreed Lorna. “If you did get married you would feel guilty about leaving your wife at home every trip. Although if she truly loved you I don’t suppose she’d mind.”
“No—but I would. Even if she went off with another fellow I wouldn’t be able to blame her, only myself for putting her in such a position.
“I—I wasn’t going to tell you this, Lorna.” He increased the pressure on her hand. “But I think a lot of you—more than any other girl I’ve met. Only I daren’t let it go any further.” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “Who knows—I may turn up on your doorstep one day if I do leave this ship. Anyway, now I’ve said my piece you know where I am if you should need me at any time. You know what I mean?”
Lorna nodded. He had no need to mention names. There was only one person from whom she might need to escape, although she didn’t really anticipate any trouble in that direction.
Standing on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Wes. You didn’t have to tell me, but it’s nice to know all the same.” He could never mean anything to her, but she felt sorry in a way for this young man and was sure that if he ever fell in love, really in love, not the sort of feeling he thought he had for her, neither hell nor high water would prevent him from getting married. Admirable though his principles were, she couldn’t see him sticking to them. Love crushed everything in its path; principles, honour, pride, and eyen hate, if Fay was to be believed.
At that moment one of the other junior officers tapped Wes on the shoulder. “Sorry to break things up, but there’s a spot of bother inside. Come and help sort it out.”
Openly disappointed to be called away, Wes gave Lorna a quick hug. “See you in a minute. You’ll be all right?”
“Of course. You go ahead, I’ll stay here.”
Lorna rested her arms on the rail. It was almost as though she were the only person on board. The ship cut through the deep waters like a hot knife through butter. Only a few more days, she thought, and we’ll be in Durban. The journey which had augured well had been spoiled by her meeting with Ashley Ward and now she was eager to reach her destination. It would be nice to see Margo again and catch up on the news of her forthcoming wedding, and above all it would be a relief to know that Ashley Ward would no longer be around to ruin her leisure.
Suddenly a hand touched her shoulder. For a moment Lorna thought Wesley had returned more quickly than expected, but on turning she met the sardonically amused gaze of the man who was beginning to seem like a bad dream.
“What’s happened to your boy-friend? Not very good manners to leave you out here alone. You never know who might come along.”
“I might have known
you
would,” retorted Lorna. “You seem to make a habit of turning up where you’re not wanted. And just for the record—Wesley is
not
my boy-friend.”
He smiled, the dim glow from the ship’s lights sharpening the contours of his face and making him look almost sinister, she thought. “Of course, I’d forgotten—Pieter. And so had you, judging by what I saw just now.”
Lorna stiffened. “You were spying! How low can you get?”
“Not spying,” he drawled, apparently unmoved by her fury. “If you insist on kissing your—er—friend in public you must expect to be seen.” He looked round. “I don’t see any signs saying this is private.”
“Cut the wisecracks,” snapped Lorna. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must find Fay.”
She turned, but with lightning speed his arms gripped the rail on either side of her, imprisoning her quivering body within inches of his own. “Your friend went back to her cabin half an hour ago,” he said. “I believe she had a headache.”
“That’s all the more reason to let me go,” grated Lorna, pounding her hands against his chest. “I must see if she’s all right.”
“I think not,” he grinned. “She had her good friend Keenan Seymour with her. I doubt if they’d thank you for interfering.”
“Do you judge everyone by your own standards? Fay’s not like that. She’s happily married. In fact she’s on her way to join her husband.”
“Is that so?” He raised his brows as if wondering why he should believe her. “But it’s not Fay and her affairs that bother me, it’s
you
I’m interested in. It struck me this afternoon how like someone I used to know you are. Then when we were dancing just now and I looked into those beautiful blue eyes of yours I was again reminded of—of this woman I knew.”
Lorna stood motionless. If he guessed at her relationship with Margo it wouldn’t be long before he forced the truth from her. She couldn’t let Margo down now. Her sister had determinedly kept her heartbreak away from Ashley; the humiliation she felt when he had shown his preference for Avril Vickers. To bring the matter into the open now would only cause embarrassment, for he would surely seek Margo and find out for himself whether Lorna was telling the truth. No! Somehow she must divert his line of thought, and quickly.
DECIDING that attack was the best form of defence, Lorna forced herself to speak lightly. “You mean Margo Tremayne? So many people have remarked on my likeness to her. It’s said that everyone has a double somewhere in the world, so I suppose she must be mine.” She raised her hand to her hair in an exaggerated gesture. “Do you really think we’re alike? I mean, you being a friend of hers should know better than anyone.”
“Oh, yes,” Ashley nodded. “It’s quite remarkable. I don’t know why I didn’t spot it when I first saw you. It must be your hair. Margo always wore hers loose and it wasn’t until I saw you with yours down that I noticed the similarity.”
“You said you
used
to know Margo.” Lorna decided this was a good opportunity to find out exactly what had happened between them, see if he had any idea of the hurt he had inflicted. “What’s happened to her?”
His eyes glinted wickedly. “Surely you can answer that question for yourself?”
Lorna looked at him in sudden suspicion. Did he
know
that they were sisters? Was he trying to force her to admit it? But his next words proved he had no idea of her true identity.
“You profess to know so much about me,” he said smoothly, “didn’t the papers get hold of that story?”
Lorna shrugged. “I really wouldn’t know. I became so bored reading about your different affairs that I didn’t bother after the first dozen or so.” It was petty, she knew, but an instinct to hurt drove her on. “It was always the same old story. Off with the old love, on with the new.”
His eyes hardened, confirming that Lorna had touched a sore spot, but she was totally unprepared for his next move. He caught her roughly by the shoulders and shook her hard. “I don’t like people talking like that about me. Especially when it’s not true. Understand?”
“Let go!” hissed Lorna. “Take your hands off me. It’s the truth as far as I see it.” She looked wildly about, wishing Wes would hurry up and return.
“Well, I’m telling you it—is—not—true.” He emphasised each word with a further shake until Lorna felt as limp as a rag doll and was forced to lean against the rail for support.
“Now
do you believe me?”
Lorna shook her head. How could she believe him when her own sister was living proof of his infidelity? She closed her eyes as his face drew menacingly close, bracing herself, quite sure that he was going to strike. Then suddenly she was free. She heard a sickening thud and saw Ashley sprawled on the deck. Wesley stood over him rubbing his knuckles. “Try that again,” he said, “and I’ll report you to the Captain. Come on, Lorna, let’s go inside. Looks like I came just in time.”
“Oh, Wes,” Lorna cried. “What have you done?” Much as she despised the other man it had been her own fault that he had acted so violently and she was horrified to see him lying there.
“Saved you from a brutal attack,” raising his eyebrows at her worried tones.
"But it was my own fault—I provoked him. Oh, I wish you hadn’t!” Lorna wrung her hands together despairingly.
He looked at her, puzzled, and then they both turned and watched Ashley rise, rubbing his jaw ruefully, then moving it from side to side to make sure nothing was broken.
“You certainly pack a punch,” he said to Wesley. "But was it really necessary?” To Lorna's relief there was no aggression in his voice. In fact he was taking the whole matter admirably considering Wes had interfered in what was after sill a private discussion.
"Apparently not,” smiled Wes grimly. "Lorna’s just told me she deserved your treatment, although I must say it looked mighty suspicious.”
Ashley looked incredulously at Lorna.
“You
said that?”
"We—ell, I was rather rude,” she admitted, "even though I still think I’m right.” These last words were said defiantly as if she was afraid he might think she had changed her mind.
His face, which had softened when he thought she was apologising, became hard again. “I can see you’ll always regard me as a bad lot. I think it’s time I retired before I do something I’ll regret. I’ve never been guilty of hitting a woman—but there’s a first time for everything—and you’re going the right way about it, young lady. You may look like Margo Tremayne, but you certainly don’t behave like her. Goodnight to you both.” He turned and disappeared immediately into the darkness.
For some inexplicable reason Ashley’s discomfiture made Lorna feel guilty. Why, she could not imagine; it was not as though she even liked the man. “I think I’ll go to bed as well,” she said. “Suddenly I don’t feel like dancing any more.”
“You’re not annoyed with me?” Wesley fell into step beside her.
“Of course not. You weren’t to know how I’d feel. I shouldn’t have argued with him.”
“So long as we’re still friends.” He tucked her arm in his. “You had me worried when you showed concern for Ashley. You’re not falling for him, by any chance?”
“As if I would!” scoffed Lorna. “You know what I think of his type.”
“Who was this Margo he mentioned?”
“Oh—some actress he once knew who I’m supposed to look like,” said Lorna lightly.
“Didn’t you say your sister’s name was Margo? The one whose wedding you’re going to?” He tilted his head to look at her.