Island of Darkness (4 page)

Today it was unbearably hot ashore, but on the water it was cool and pleasantly breezy and she looked at the passing coastline with the same almost smug pleasure she always did. It was a familiar route, from Terolito to Maciemo, just across the bay, and she needed to do little more than keep her hand on the tiller and take a more or less curving line across from one to the other.

The coastline looked slightly hazy in the heat of the day, the hills rising behind and above the dusters of houses on the shoreline, with other little white houses scattered like snowflakes on the green background of the hills themselves. There were little boats bobbing at their moorings, their sails now and then tugging anxiously at a passing breeze.

It would be difficult to find a more idyllic spot to live and not for the first time she smiled at the good fortune that had brought her here when her uncle could have chosen to live almost anywhere in the world. He was an artist and he enjoyed his work, but he was not dependent on it for his living and so his enjoyment was not blunted by having to follow his art where he could make most profit from it

She was vaguely aware of a billow of white sails to her right, but not soon enough, and before she fully realised it the sailing dinghy was bearing down on her and so close there was no time to take avoiding action. Sail had precedence, of course, but it was too late now to even attempt to take evasive action and collision was inevitable.

“Look out!” The instinctive warning cry came too late and there was a nasty grating sound as the two craft scraped together, bobbing jerkily on the resultant wash.

Leonora hastily registered the fact that there were two occupants in the other boat, and little more at the moment. One of than was swearing quietly but volubly in English, while the other was shouting further warnings as the two craft came into contact and she hastily switched off her engine.

A hasty scramble in both boats resulted in the collision and the damage being far less serious than it might have been, but even so some paint was scratched from her own boat’s bright blue hull. Worse still was the long, jagged scratch on the immaculate varnish of the sailing dinghy, which she viewed with dismay.

It was while she was thanking heaven that the occupants of both boats were at least dry and unhurt that she recognised her partners in disaster and felt a chilling dismay in the pit of her stomach. Scottie’s face, as he leaned over the scratched bow of the dinghy, was gloomy, and he did not recognise her until she spoke. “Oh, Scottie, I’m so sorry!”

He looked startled for a moment, then glanced swiftly at his companion as if he regretted her having identified herself by her voice. “It was an accident,” he said hastily.

Seeing Jason Connor seated in the stern of the sailing beat and seemingly in charge of the tiller took Leonora by surprise for a moment, but then she was forced to admit that it was probably just feasible that, with Scottie’s guidance, he could manage to operate the tiller, especially in such quiet waters. It was just the kind of chancy thing that a man like Jason Connor was reputed to be would do, rather than sit inactive on that sunny terrace where she had first seen

him.

His blond hair looked like yellow gold in the sun, thick and tousled after contact with the same light breeze that filled the sails of the dinghy in fits and starts that had made its progress erratic on the blue waters of the bay. His rugged features still showed that hint of impatience, and the lean, golden tanned torso was without even a shirt to disguise it this morning. Only the gold medallion swung from its chain against the broad, smooth chest, and a pale blue handkerchief knotted round his throat added to the piratical look of him.

Before either of them had time to say more, he turned his head in Leonora’s direction with that same uncanny accuracy she had found so discomfiting at their first meeting. That same tight, twisted smile was on his mouth again too as he recognised her voice, and he shook his head slowly.

“Ah! Little Miss Fireball!” he said dryly. “Now how the hell did we manage to tangle with you?”

Much as she hated to admit it, Leonora knew she was in the wrong and it was no use denying it. She bit her lip and looked at Scottie before she spoke and hoped she would be able to keep her temper if Jason Connor chose to blame her, as he was entitled to do.

“I - I didn’t see you,” she said, trying not to sound too humble about it. “It was my fault.”

“I heard an outboard,” Jason Connor said. “I presume that was you!”

“Yes, it was.”

“And don’t you know enough about the rules of sailing to know that power gives way to sail?”

“Yes, yes, of course I do!” She looked again at Scottie.

“I’m sorry, Scottie.”

“And why apologise to Scottie?” Jason Connor demanded “Unlikely as it may seem in the circumstances,
I’m
in charge of the boat!”

Leonora bit her lip. The temptation to retaliate cruelly and ruthlessly was hard to resist, but she would never have forgiven herself, she knew, if she had made any such reference to his blindness, so she bit on her anger and apologised.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But I just wasn’t thinking and I didn’t see you.”

Jason Connor sighed deeply. Large brown hands still held the tiller and outwardly at least he looked fairly relaxed; only the muscles under the skin of the bare brown arms betrayed the tension that was otherwise well under control and the blank lenses of his glasses seemed to bore through her.

“You didn’t see us,” he echoed in a dry, sarcastic voice. “There you are, in full possession of your sight, with heaven knows how much white sail and sixteen feet of highly polished hull staring you in the face, and you didn’t see us!”

Leonora felt the colour warming her cheeks and her good intentions were sorely tried as she looked at Scottie again, seeking his more tolerant view and hoping he would help her to keep her temper. “I - I was miles away,” she explained. “I know I shouldn’t have been so careless, but -well, I’m sorry.”

Once again Scottie glanced at his companion before he spoke, and his smile was perhaps far more tolerant than his employer would have approved of, if he could have seen it. “Och, there’s no harm done, lassie,” he told her quietly.

“And none of us had a ducking, so don’t worry about it.”

“But - your hull,” she began, and again Jason Connor took up cudgels.

“What about the hull?” he asked brusquely and suspiciously. “Have a look at it, Scottie, and see what she’s done to the damned thing!”

“There’s a wee bit of a scratch,” Scottie informed him soothingly and not altogether truthfully. “It’ll cover easily enough, I dare say.”

“And I’ll pay for it,” Leonora interposed hastily, before some reference could be made to that aspect of it. “I’ll do that, of course, Mr. Connor.”

“Thanks!”

She suspected sarcasm, but since she was determined not to indulge in a lengthy battle of words with him she said nothing more. It would seem almost like sacrilege to quarrel in such surroundings, out here on the serene blue ocean, and she looked instead at Scottie’s encouraging smile.

“It’ll be O.K., lass,” he told her,
sotto voce.
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.”

“But, Scottie, I meant—”

“Now
what?” The impatient voice from the stem cut into her protest and Leonora frowned. “If you’re telling her she needn’t bother about paying for the damage, Scottie,” he said harshly, “forget it!”

Leonora flushed angrily, her hands tight and white-knuckled as she looked at the taunting, rugged features of her tormentor. “I have every intention of paying for the damage, Mr. Connor,” she told him stiffly. “Just send me the bill when the repairs have been done and I’ll pay it.”

“Independent, eh?” he jeered, and another dry smile twisted his mouth as he looked at her with his blank eyes. “For heaven’s sake, girl, you don’t have to be so touchy because I pull your leg! I can afford to pay for a scratch on my own boat, you don’t have to!”

“I’ve every intention of paying for it!”

She would have felt more satisfaction from her defiance if he could have seen her lifted chin and the fiercely defiant glint in her eyes, but he could tell from her voice how she felt. Scottie, who could see her, was looking very unhappy about her attitude and he shook his head over the angry tension he felt in the hand under his own.

“Leonora,” he pleaded, but she shook her head firmly, and he shrugged. “All right,” he said resignedly. “Have it your way.”

“I imagine she mostly does,” Jason Connor remarked dryly from the stern, and surprisingly, he laughed. “That’s quite a girl you’ve got yourself there, you old sinner,” he told a plainly embarrassed Scottie. “I’m not sure she won’t prove too much for you!”

“Boss, there’s no call to—” Scottie’s nice, honest face looked faintly pink, and he looked at Leonora apologetically. “I’m sorry, Leonora!”

“Oh, come on!” his employer told him impatiently. “Don’t be so bashful about her! She must be quite a beauty if she’s swept
you
off your feet, so why not make the most of it?”

“You’re not only embarrassing me, but Leonora too,” Scottie informed him in a voice far less friendly than Leonora had heard from him before, and it was something of a shock to realise that this was the second time she had been a subject of contention between the two of them. She regretted it, but she could scarcely be blamed for it in the circumstances, and she looked at Scottie as she shook her head.

“Please, Scottie,” she begged. “It doesn’t matter to me.” “It does to me!” Scottie set his jaw stubbornly as he held on to the side of her boat with one hand. They were bobbing side by side in the middle of the sparkling blue bay and it occurred to Leonora suddenly that there was something almost farcical in the situation. Quarrelling in such circumstances seemed quite ridiculous.

“It really isn’t worth arguing about,” she insisted.

“You’re right, it isn’t,” Jason Connor agreed impatiently. “And I don’t propose sitting here in the middle of nowhere while you two try to persuade each other! Come on, for heaven’s sake, Scottie, or we’ll never complete the circuit of the bay you promised me!”

Despite her anger with him for his impatient arrogance, she had to admire his courage and she tried again to express her regret for having caused the collision. “I’m sorry,” she said, but he simply waved her apology aside before she had even completed it.

“Just give us a wide berth in future,” he told her with a hint of that dry smile.

“I will!” She started up the engine and Scottie let go the side of the boat reluctantly.

She turned as she crossed the bay and watched the white sails and the gleaming blond head in the stern and despite everything, her heart fluttered uneasily as she watched him, the little boat skittering fitfully with the variable wind. Her meetings with Jason Connor seemed destined to prove both angry and emotionally disturbing and she wished, without quite knowing why, that it did not have to be so.

It was a couple of weeks later that Leonora had another opportunity to visit Isola de Marta and once again it was due to a minor crisis in the Talliano family. Not Maria this time, but Roberto who had contracted some mysterious ailment that troubled his stomach.

Certainly he looked unwell when Leonora met him on the quay and she felt sorry for him as she offered her sympathy which he accepted gratefully, looking quite incredibly soulful about it. That he declared himself to be dying she took with a pinch of salt, but she did feel rather sorry for him, and for Maria. She must surely have her hands full with five little ones to care for, and now a self-pitying husband.

Her offer to help he accepted emotionally, and professed himself forever in her debt if she would take some fresh sardines across to the
signori
on the rock. Leonora had been half expecting such a request, but even so she experienced an odd and disturbing quickening of her pulse when Roberto made the request, and she hesitated briefly before answering.

Her hesitation seemed to both puzzle and worry Roberto, and he looked at her anxiously. “You do not wish to do this for me,
signorina
?” he asked, and she hastened to assure him.

“Oh yes, of course I’ll take them, Roberto,” she told him. “Anything I can do to help.”

She went in to let Clive know, as she always did on these occasions, and she half expected some comment from him, but instead he merely nodded and raised a brow. He said nothing, but even so she had the uneasy feeling, as she left him, that he read some significance into her going.

She was still a little doubtful, even as she took her boat across the bay towards the rock, and wished she could be sure whether or not she hoped to see Jason Connor again. A brisk breeze blew blessedly cool on the water and she lifted her face to the sun, letting her long hair blow out behind her and not caring if she arrived looking tousled. She was not out to impress anyone, and certainly neither Scottie nor Lucia would bother if she appeared windblown - it could scarcely matter to the third member of the household since he could not see her.

She tied the boat to the mooring ring and started the long climb up the steps, appalled at the sensations that chased one another through her senses as she got nearer the top. The wild flutter of excitement she felt, she stifled determinedly and barely gave a thought to the kind of reception she would get after her last encounter with the villa’s current owner.