Authors: Sara Craven
'What isn't real?' She was a fool to ask, she thought wearily.
'The way you look, Lisa. Those innocent eyes, and that passionate mouth. Eve must have looked like that when Adam woke in Paradise and found her beside him. But you're no Eve, my lovely one, you're Lilith—the bitch goddess with the face like an angel and the soul of a whore.' His hand lifted and took her chin, gripping it so tightly that she wondered dazedly whether her face would be bruised tomorrow. 'I don't care how many men you have in London, Lisa, or what kind of a life you lead there. But here you'll behave. Neither Chas nor Julie are going to be made to suffer because there's more talk about you that could get back to them.'
'More talk?' She wrenched herself free. 'Would you like to explain exactly what you're talking about?'
'I'm talking about two years ago,' he said coldly. 'Did you really imagine your visits to the Hammonds and others would really go unnoticed? That someone in this relatively small community wouldn't notice, wouldn't have a quiet word, drop a hint that I ought to keep a closer eye on my womenfolk. And do you know, Lisa, I really didn't believe it. I think I actually laughed, and said there must be some mistake. I discounted the rumours, the sidelong looks and the veiled allusions. Even when I saw you with my own eyes walking back from their house in broad daylight, I tried to tell myself that local gossip was making a mountain out of a molehill, and that the innocence in your eyes was real.'
A little gasp escaped her lips. So, in spite of everything she had done, in spite of what she had suffered, there had still been gossip. She realised, of course, that it was Julie the unknown well-wishers had been concerned about, and not one of them had probably mentioned a name. It would have been an awkward 'one of your girls' or 'your sister' and Dane assumed that they were referring to her. In many ways it was a natural assumption, she supposed wretchedly. Julie was too young to be suspected.
She felt sick suddenly. People had long memories. If Julie's reputation was already damaged because of her folly of two years ago, then it would be disastrous if any word of her pregnancy were to get out. Little wonder she wanted it to be kept quiet.
'Well?' His voice intruded harshly on her unwelcome reverie. 'Haven't you got anything to say.'
'Is there any point?' she countered huskily. 'May I go now, please?'
'Presently,' he said. 'But first I want your word, for what it's worth, that you'll leave James alone. I don't know what wiles you used to persuade Julie to leave you with him in Skipton, but…'
'If I told you, you wouldn't believe me,' she interrupted wearily. 'Very well, you have my word. James shall be shunned. Now are you satisfied?'
For a moment he was silent, then a mirthless little smile touched his lips.
'If I told you, you wouldn't believe me,' he mocked, his eyes searing her suddenly, seeming to strip away the cumbersome coverings of coat and sweater and skirt— reminding her all too potently that she had once lain naked in his arms. And she remembered too how she had wanted him, the passionate need he had kindled in her that was to turn all too soon to pain and fear and disillusion.
The last two years had been a wasteland for her. She had told herself that Dane's cold-blooded possession of her had killed for ever the wellspring of warmth and giving within her. She had used her sexuality, her allure like weapons to keep the world at bay, and she had succeeded.
But she knew now it had been a hollow success. She had behaved coolly, keeping her admirers and would-be lovers at arms' length not through any failing of hers, but because not one of them had been able to rouse in her the deep yearning that she had known for Dane, and that not even his distrust or his brutal treatment had been able to stifle.
That was what she had been trying to conceal from herover the past sterile months—that no matter what had happened between them, what depth of bitterness divided them, she wanted him still with every fibre of passionate being that she possessed.
Oh God, she thought dazedly, if he touched me—if he kissed me.
She saw him move, take one quick stride towards her, then pause, his mouth twisting in self-contempt.
He said harshly, 'You asked if you might go. What are you waiting for?'
Her lips moved, silently framing the word, 'Nothing'. Then she turned and left him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
That evening Lisa came as near to quarrelling with Julie as she had ever done.
'Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?' she
stormed at her. 'You made me look an utter fool—and
worse. And what was this supposed appointment you had
'with the Vicar?' ,
Julie shrugged. She was sitting at her dressing table, brushing her hair, and she flicked Lisa a glance, her eyes suddenly wary.
'Just some problem over the hymns,' she said airily.
'Hymns?' Lisa stared at her. 'I thought it was the flowers.'
'Those as well. You know what these little country parishes are like. It takes ages for things to be arranged.' Julie's voice was placatory now, but Lisa was not to be so easily mollified.
'And you couldn't have waited five minutes for me?' she demanded.
'I was late,' Julie pleaded. 'And James didn't mind, I'm sure.'
'I minded,' Lisa told her frankly. And so did Dane, she thought. 'Did you get everything sorted out at the church?'
Julie fidgeted with her hairbrush. 'Not exactly. The Vicar was out on a sick call, so it was all rather a waste of time.'
'For God's sake, Julie,' Lisa sighed tiredly, 'what are you trying to do? I don't believe you were going to see the Vicar at all.'
There was a pause, then Julie said mutinously, 'All right—I wasn't. The truth is that James annoyed me, and I just got in the car and drove off in a temper. I—I didn't really give you a thought until I was nearly halfway home, and it seemed pointless to come back. I knew James would offer to bring you.'
'Well, thanks on all counts,' Lisa said drily. 'What on earth did he say to you to provoke a reaction like that?'
Julie applied perfume to her pulse points. 'Nothing very much,' She gave a little unsteady laugh. 'I think it must be my condition. I seem to have a lower boiling point than usual. And James can be very aggravating.'
'I won't argue, because I don't know him that well,' Lisa tried to speak lightly, but inwardly she felt oddly uneasy although she couldn't define the reason for this. 'Is Tony coming to dinner tonight?'
'No,' Julie returned almost offhandedly. 'They have some relatives visiting, so he has to help entertain them.'
Lisa was a little surprised. 'Didn't he want you to be there?'
'Yes, he did as a matter of fact,' Julie said tartly. 'But I refused. I shall have to see quite enough of his far-flung family after we're married. I don't see why I should have to start now.' She swung round off her stool, giving Lisa a brilliant smile. 'Shall we go down? I love your dress. I wish I could wear that shade of green—it's such a subtle colour.'
She chattered about styles and shades all the way downstairs and into the drawing room where Chas was waiting for them. He was in high spirits, announcing that his physiotherapy seemed to be paying off at last.
'I may get back on the golf course, after all.' He beamed at them both, then looked at Julie. 'But I shan't be able to give you away, darling, not without a miracle. We'll have to resign ourselves to that. Unless you'd like to postpone the wedding for a few months,' he added with a chuckle.
'No!' Julie burst out almost violently. Her father looked at her in swift surprise, and Dane who was standing at the other side of the room, pouring drinks, also glanced round, his brows raised. Julie forced a smile, leaning back in her chair, but Lisa saw that the knuckles on her clasped hands were white with strain. 'I—I'm sorry, Daddy.'
'It doesn't matter, darling,' Chas said mildly. 'I wasn't being serious, you know. I wouldn't stand in the way of young love. What a pity young Tony wasn't here to hear your impassioned cry. He'd have been most flattered!'
Julie murmured some constrained reply, and the moment passed.
As the wedding drew nearer, what had begun as a trickle of wedding presents developed into a flood. Julie might have insisted on a quiet ceremony with the minimum of fuss and number of guests, but there were still many people who wanted to remember her and wish her well.
'I wish they wouldn't,' she said almost crossly one morning, surveying the latest additions. 'I'll never have room for all this stuff.'
'But you won't be spending your entire life in the flat,' Lisa pointed out. 'When you have a larger family, you'll need a house somewhere. A lot of these things can be stored until then.'
'Yes,' Julie said, and gave a slight shiver.
'What is it, love?' Lisa questioned.
'Oh—I was just thinking.' Julie gave an unconvincing little laugh. 'All the years ahead of me—actually being married to Tony. How strange it seems.' She saw Lisa regarding her worriedly, and smiled. 'I'm just being stupid, aren't I? Do you suppose all brides feel like this?'
'Perhaps,' said Lisa. 'I wouldn't know.'
'No.' Julie gave her a thoughtful look. 'Haven't you ever thought of getting married, Lisa? Being a top model, you must have met a lot of men. Surely there must have been someone you fancied.'
'Not enough for marriage,' Lisa said. Or for love, she added silently.
She smiled at Julie. 'Be content with your own wedding, love. Don't try making matches for me. I'm perfectly happy as I am.'
The words made her cringe inwardly. Happy? Had she ever been less so? Even the frozen agony of humiliation and hurt which had driven her away from this place originally seemed in retrospect preferable to the limbo in which she now found herself.
She lay awake at night, gazing sightlessly into the darkness, praying for sleep to overtake her, but when it did, it was filled with feverish restless dreams.
The nights, she thought, were the worst. In the daytime she could keep busy, helping Julie unpack her wedding presents and list the donors, or walking round the grounds with Chas. The weather had taken an unseasonable springlike turn. The snow showers and biting winds of the past weeks had vanished, and there was even an odd patch of snowdrops to be seen in a sheltered corner. But, as Chas said, it was probably too good to be true.
Dane she avoided as much as possible, a task made easier by his frequent absences. Chas grumbled goodnaturedly that they never saw anything of him these days, which led Lisa to suspect he was finding excuses to be away from the house. She told herself she ought to be grateful, when in reality she was crying inside.
But soon, soon, Julie would be married and then she could leave Stoniscliffe for ever, she told herself resolutely. Back in London her career was waiting for her. Even Simon was waiting for her. She had telephoned Jos to tell him when she expected to be back, and he had warned her that Simon had tried several times to find out where she was.
The Daltons had been to the house for dinner on several occasions, and Lisa was immediately aware of a marked coolness in Celia's manner towards her. No doubt someone had told her that she'd been in James's car, she thought resignedly, and Celia was making her displeasure known.