Authors: Hilary Preston
When she arrived at the house there was another car parked outside, and she hesitated about going in. But Ross was expecting her, and she could always wait upstairs in her room if he had a caller, or even go up to her studio.
Ruth let herself in by the front door. Perhaps Ross had a visit from the D.O. The car outside did look rather like his—at least, it was the same colour. She had not particularly noticed the make. She could hear sounds coining from the kitchen, but entering the house from the front door, one had to pass the living room door first Ruth glanced in and received a minor shock.
Sitting in the chair usually occupied by herself—when she was not seated on the hearthrug—was Linda Appleton.
CHAPTER EIGHT
For
a moment Ruth stood stockstill in the doorway. She did not know Linda very well personally, only by reputation as Linda did not normally move in the same circle as the employees of the Forestry Commission, but somehow the sight of her sitting there had come as a shock. .
Linda gave a slow smile and said ‘Hello,’ in a faintly patronising voice. ‘Ross is in the kitchen making coffee. Perhaps you’d care to join us,’ she added.
As if she were mistress of the house,
thought Ruth. She turned on her heel without answering and went in search of Ross.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘So you’ve condescended to come, after all.’
Ruth’s eyes blazed. She felt she was being attacked from all sides in her own home.
‘And what do you mean by that?’ she demanded.
‘What I say. You promised to be here when I came home from work this evening.’
‘I did nothing of the sort. You made that arrangement and just expected me to agree with it.’
‘Which you did. You didn’t
disagree.
As I remember rightly, you nodded, which in most people’s book constitutes an answer in the affirmative.’
‘It was not all that decisive,’ she argued defensively. ‘In any case, I had to go into town.’
‘Then why didn’t you come back here? Why go back to Mrs.. Smith’s? You could have had a meal here. In fact—’ He broke off. ‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Linda is here now, anyway, as you’ve no doubt seen.’
‘I certainly have, and she had the nerve to invite me to have a coffee with you—in my own home!’
‘Tactless,’ he agreed briefly. ‘Well, will you?’
‘Have a coffee with you?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to be treated as a guest in what still feels like my home, thanks. I think the best thing for me to do is go back to Mrs. Smith’s—and perhaps see you in the morning.’
‘One thing—’ he said, as she moved towards the door. ‘Why didn’t you come to the phone when I rang you earlier? And why did you suddenly have to go into Lyndhurst?’
She sighed. ‘Must you have a minute-by-minute breakdown of my movements? I went into town for an evening paper, then I thought I’d go back to Mrs. Smith’s for a meal—she would have one ready, anyway, which proved correct. And then I had a visitor.’
‘Gareth?’ he asked swiftly.
‘Yes,’ she answered heavily. ‘Do you mind? And may I go now, if you’ve no more questions—sir?’
He took a step towards her, a peculiar look in his eyes as they fixed themselves upon her. ‘I’ve half a mind to take you somewhere and give you a
jolly good
spanking!’
She glared at him, though she had a feeling he would do just that, given half a chance.
‘I don’t know who you think you are,’ she fired at him.
‘I’ll show you who I am—’
He took another step forward, then Ruth saw his gaze shift, and half turned to see Linda standing there.
‘How much longer is that coffee going to be, darling?’ she asked in a silky, seductive voice.
Ruth darted a swift look from one to the other, then stalked out of the kitchen and out of the house. She might have known this would happen sooner or later, she fumed to herself as she drove back to her temporary lodgings. The truth was, Ross didn’t like her friends any more than she liked his. They couldn’t go on like this. It wasn’t working out. If Ross didn’t rent her that lovely house he was buying or she couldn’t find somewhere else, then she would be forced to sell all her furniture, including her father’s beloved piano, and go to live with Jill and Hugh and Gareth, and hunt around for a studio to rent. But her situation was becoming more and more difficult. She didn’t want to marry Gareth and she certainly couldn’t give up her painting.
It helped her to rail as she drove along. It was only when she tried to sleep that night, still unable to get Ross and her problems out of her mind that she suddenly sat bolt upright in bed.
Of course, that was it. Linda. It was because of Linda that he was anxious to get her right out of the house. She should have known. She recalled the way Linda had greeted him on the very first night of his arrival when the D.O. had brought him to the Club. He had said then that he was thinking of getting married. And it was Linda Appleton.
An appalling sense of desolation gripped her. If Ross married Linda what, then, would she have to live for? She switched on her bedside lamp as though the artificial light would lend clarity to her thoughts. This was terrible. She clutched at her throat which suddenly felt dry and constricted, as the truth dawned upon her.
She was really in love with Ross. For all their quarrels, for all her anger with him, in spite of everything, she had fallen in love with him. It did not matter any more that she had once vowed and declared that she would never succumb to his ‘charms’ or worship at his feet. Nothing mattered. She loved him—she could deny it no longer.
But what was she going to do? What
could
she do? Perhaps if she hadn’t defied him so much, had shown that she could be likeable—What a fool she had been crossing swords with him almost every time they met. If you wanted to be loved you had to show that you could be lovable.
Oh, Ross,
she moaned,
Ross!
He was infuriating, he was bossy, but he was wonderful. And she loved him.
She switched off the light again and lay in the darkness thinking about him. The wonder was not that she had fallen in love with him, but that she had not done so sooner. And yet hadn’t she been in love with him without realising it, without acknowledging it? She closed her eyes and relived the times he had taken her in his arms, especially that night in her home when she had responded to him. Incredibly, she had not understood why. The fact that he had made love to her without being in love with her did not seem to matter at this moment. She savoured the feel of his lips on hers and the sensation of his hands caressing her body, and in this way was lulled to sleep.
Ruth woke up happy the following morning, a barely suppressed joy in her heart that she loved. The world seemed a happier place, the sun shone more brightly, everything seemed new and wonderful. She could hardly wait to see Ross again. Swallowing a hasty breakfast, she arrived at the house half an hour or so before her usual time. She let herself in the front door, and her heart leapt into her throat as she encountered Ross emerging from the kitchen clad only in his trunks.
His lips curved into an amused smile as he saw her startled expression.
‘Good heavens, you’re bright and early this morning. What’s the matter? Couldn’t you sleep?’
She gave him an uncertain, appealing glance. ‘Ross, must you be so sarcastic all the time?’
His dark brows wrinkled into a puzzled frown and his disturbing gaze searched her face questioningly. She began to panic. He mustn’t guess how she felt about him, he simply mustn’t. He took a step nearer to her, and the pungent smell of his after-shave invaded her nostrils and took possession of her senses like an incense.
‘What’s this?’ he asked in a low, seductive voice which seemed to hypnotise her. ‘You seem different this morning.’
It was warm and she was wearing a sleeveless dress in a kind of denim material. Ross put his hands on her bare arms, and her heart beat painfully and
erratically
. Some wild notions were going through her mind, notions which never should be there. If he kisses me or puts his arms around me, I shall be lost, her feverish mind thought. Summoning up every ounce of moral strength she possessed, she pushed him away from her.
‘Please, let me go. I—I came early so that I could talk to you about renting that house. I’m—sorry if I’ve arrived too early for you. Perhaps you’d like me to make some tea, or cook you some breakfast while you dress?’
He dropped his hands, then threw back his head and laughed, obviously enjoying her discomfiture.
‘Don’t tell me my semi-nudity is shocking you? After all, my underpants are not nearly as—shall we say—revealing as a pair of swimming trunks. Still, if you’re squeamish, I’ll go up and put some clothes on. As a matter of fact,’ he added, ‘I was, at the very moment of your arrival, in the act of making my morning tea. Yes, perhaps you
would
oblige—and thank you. And join me, of course. That is, if I may say so without being accused of inviting you in your own house.’
He was laughing at her again. Formerly, Ruth would have snapped back at him, but now she felt more hurt and confused than angry. His voice had been loaded with a kind of sarcastic politeness, and she wished she could summon up some of her former anger. All she could do was march past him into the kitchen without a word.
The kettle was almost on the boil. When her limbs had ceased their trembling, she made the tea and set out two cups and saucers on a tray. The smell of his aftershave still lingered and his bare, well-proportioned body swam before her eyes. It wasn’t fair, she said to herself. No man should be so devastatingly attractive. The sooner she was out of his house where she wouldn’t see so much of him the better, though at the same time the thought desolated her. If he were to ask her now to marry him—even in a joke—she would accept, whatever his reason for asking her. But of course he was not likely to do that.
Ross appeared just as she was carrying in the tray. He wore a cream-coloured silk shirt and a pair of brown, fine-cut slacks, and she had never loved him so much.
‘Would you—like me to cook you some breakfast?’ she asked jerkily.
He shook his head. ‘No, no, I don’t bother much with breakfast.’
‘Then you should,’ she answered swiftly.
His eyebrows raised, he gave her a swift glance. ‘Oh?’
‘Yes—oh,’ she came back with some of her old spirit ‘I’m surprised at you. You lead an active life, you should eat some breakfast.’
There was a humorous twist to his mouth which she once hated but now loved.
‘Are you trying to lecture me, Ruth?’
‘Call it what you like. I’m going to make you some toast and marmalade. It won’t take a minute.’
Buoyed up at the idea of doing something for him, she went out without waiting for a reply from him. Ridiculously, the small task of preparing some breakfast for him filled her with a satisfaction she would have pooh-poohed only a few days ago. The morning paper arrived just in time for her to put that on the tray, too, and when she went back into the living room with it, he gave her that small, twisted smile of his.
‘Well, well, all the luxuries of a first class hotel! And do you know, come to think of it, I
am
hungry.’
He tackled the toast and marmalade with gusto, and she poured him another cup of tea.
She drank one with him, and at his insistence, also ate a piece of toast. When the last slice had been consumed he rubbed his hands together with satisfaction.
‘Terrific,’ he announced. ‘You should come and make breakfast for me every morning.’
She winced inwardly. If he only knew how she longed to do just that—make his breakfast every morning for the rest of
her
life. She had never realised how domestically-minded she could be. This couldn’t be her. It must be someone else.
‘Well, when are you going to move in?’ he asked unexpectedly.
Her heart leapt. She stared at him blankly. ‘Move in?’ she repeated. ‘Move in where?’
‘In the new house, of course. Where did you think I meant?’ he asked giving her with a quizzical half-smile.
She coloured. For a wild moment she had thought he meant move in here with him. How easy it was going to be to give herself away!
‘Sorry,’ she said, assuming a carelessness she did not feel. ‘I was miles away. Anyway, when I asked you yesterday, you only said you’d consider the question.’
He laughed. ‘All right, so I’ve considered it. If we can agree on the subject of rent, you can move in any time you want.’
‘What—what sort of rent were you asking?’ she queried, hoping the sum wouldn’t be too much of a drain on her financial resources.
‘Nothing,’ he answered.
‘What?’
‘I said nothing.’
She clicked her tongue impatiently. ‘But that’s ridiculous! I must pay something, otherwise I can’t take it.’
He shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. It’ll only stand empty if you don’t use it.’
She couldn’t understand him at all. But he got to his feet and said he must be going as if that was an end of the argument.
She gave a large sigh. ‘Ross, give me one good reason why you should let me have your house rent-free.’
‘One good reason? Well, how will this do? I know you’ll appreciate the house and look after it, so do you want the place or don’t you?’
She still didn’t understand, but she did not argue any more. He departed, and she cleared away the breakfast dishes and then went upstairs to her studio. With a heavy heart she thought she knew why he was offering her the place. He wanted both her and her furniture out of this house as soon as possible so as to make room for the kind of furniture Linda wanted, that was it. She still couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to charge her any rent, unless it was that he did not want to add to his income and so increase the amount of income tax he would have to pay.
Throughout the whole day Ruth found it difficult to concentrate on her work. Half expecting that either Gareth or Ross himself might drop in around lunch time for a coffee, she left the back door unlocked. But neither of them did, and she didn’t know whether she was glad or sorry. She was sorely tempted to stay on until Ross arrived home at his usual time, but the thought that he might have Linda with him put her off the idea. It would be better, anyway, she decided, not to see Ross any more than necessary. He upset her too much. The only thing she could do was to try to forget him. It wouldn’t be easy, but she must try.