Authors: Yvonne Whittal
Laura came to an abrupt halt and glanced over her
shoulder, but there was no one there except the rain and the eerie
darkness, and she shivered uncontrollably. Was she going mad? Could
that warning voice have been her own conscience, or had she actually
heard a strange woman's voice urging her not to go further?
'Ridiculous,' she told herself with a hysterical laugh.
'Laura, for God's sake come away there,' Anton's voice
warned urgently when she was about to go on. 'You're on the edge of an
almost vertical cliff,' he added, making her aware of the danger ahead.
The rain lashed her body while she stood frozen with
indecision. Should she go on to whatever lay before her, or should she
return to be taunted for loving unwisely?
'I can't bear it!' she cried tiredly, her tears mingling
with the rain on her face as she turned to glance at Anton's tall, dark
frame where he stood motionless on the other side of the fence. 'I just
can't bear it!' she repeated, swaying away from him.
'Take it easy, Laura,' Anton said quickly in a voice that
sounded oddly raw. 'If you go much further you—you'll
kill
yourself.'
Kill yourself! Kill yourself
! The
words echoed through her tortured mind until she wanted to scream. 'You
can't kill yourself,' the voice of her conscience warned unexpectedly.
'You can't take an innocent child with you to your grave because you're
a coward. He deserves to grow inside you, and to live.'
She shuddered as she came to her senses. She had gone a
little crazy, but she had never been a coward and, silently, she walked
towards the fence where Anton awaited her. He Lifted her over it
without a word, but when she stood before him, shivering and wet to the
skin, the full realisation of what she had contemplated struck her like
a physical blow. 'Logical, sensible Laura,' her sister had always
called her, and she groaned inwardly, 'Oh, Elizabeth, if only you could
see me now!'
She choked on a sob and, not caring what Anton thought of
her, she flung herself against his equally wet body and clung to him
while she wept unrestrainedly.
His arms went about her at once, and he held her so
tightly when her tears subsided that she began to think he had saved
her from falling down the cliff only to crush her to death. She felt
him shaking, just as she was shaking, while they stood there on the
dark mountain with the rain pelting down on them, then he lifted her in
his arms Like a
child
and carried her back to the house as he had done once before.
'Take a hot bath, and get into bed,' he ordered abruptly
when he had lowered her to her feet in their bedroom, and Laura obeyed
meekly.
She soaked herself for a considerable time before the
chill left her body entirely, then she dried herself vigorously and did
the same with her hair before she slipped into the pink, frilly
nightdress which she had worn for the first time on their wedding
night. Their wedding night! she thought tiredly as she climbed into bed
and slipped beneath the warm blankets. An eternity seemed to have
passed since that night when she had submitted to Anton in fear and had
emerged ecstatic the morning after. An eternity, yet it was not quite
four months ago.
The door opened, interrupting her thoughts, and Anton
walked in. He had changed, she noticed distractedly, into a pale green
shirt and dark green suede pants which were fastened about his lean
hips with an ostrich skin belt. Laura felt his eyes on her, but she
could not look at him as he approached the bed, and not even when he
sat down beside her to examine the scratches on her hands could she
find the courage to raise her eyes to his. His thumbs moved lightly
against her palms, sending a tingling sensation up her arms as she
waited for him to speak, to demand once again that she should give him
the name of the man she loved.
'Oh, Anton, Anton, if only you knew—but I dare
not tell you,' she sighed inwardly.
His thumbs ceased their caressing movements as he gripped
her hands tightly, and she looked up suddenly, straight into those
steel-grey eyes. He looked white and drawn, and his eyes had a feverish
look about them that disturbed her deeply. He opened his mouth to say
something, but seemingly couldn't, and her concern changed to fear.
Was it his freedom he was about to ask for? she wondered
as she whispered hoarsely, 'What is it, Anton?'
He continued to stare at her for nerve-racking seconds as
if he had not heard, then he groaned from deep within his throat and
gathered her into his arms, their hard strength crushing her against
him with the same ferocity he had displayed up there on the mountain.
Surprised and bewildered, she remained taut in his embrace
as he buried his face against her throat, then, almost as if the words
were torn from him by force, he muttered thickly, 'God, Laura, I love
you!'
It seemed as though the air in her lungs, which had
survived the crushing pressure of his arms, had suddenly deserted her.
This had to be part of a mad, crazy dream; a figment of her imagination
which stemmed from the desperate need in her heart. It was too
incredible to believe; too frighteningly wonderful to grasp, and yet he
had uttered the words he had sworn sever to use. Could she believe it?
Dared she?
'Why aren't you laughing?' he groaned, and she could feel
his warm breath against her throat as he spoke. 'Why aren't you
laughing as you once threatened you would?'
A great surge of joy swept through her, filling her eyes
with tears, and making them glitter like blue sapphires as she placed a
gentle hand on either side of his head and brought his face out into
the open.
'The laughter will come later, Anton,' she said
unsteadily, looking up into his wary eyes. 'This is the terrifying
moment of truth.'
'What's so terrifying about the truth?'
'I wanted to die rather than hear you laugh at me for
admitting that it's
you
I love,' she said simply.
He stared at her in solemn silence, his eyes probing hers
with a burning intensity as she raised the shutters, then he was seeing
down into the very depths of her soul.
'Laura, Laura,' he muttered thickly, his fingers brushing
her hair lightly from her flushed cheeks while his eyes devoured her.
'God knows I've never felt more humble than at this moment.'
'It doesn't suit you to be humble, my proud, arrogant
beloved,' she laughed softly through her tears. 'Just kiss me, and tell
me again that you love me, and… Oh, Anton, hold me tight!'
His arms were hard about her, threatening her ribs with
extinction, but she did not care. He buried his lips in the silky
fragrance of her hair, and trailed them across her throat and smooth
cheek until he covered her eager, tremulous mouth with his own. He
kissed her with a tender passion which stirred her more deeply than
anything had ever done before, and her arms tightened about his neck
while she lost herself in the wonder of that moment. But in every
paradise there was a serpent to intrude on moments such as this, and
she drew away from him.
'What about Camilla?' she asked hesitantly.
His mouth hardened into a thin line as he said: 'I think
we've just about seen the last of her.'
She did not pretend to understand as she asked, 'Was she
to blame for the way you felt about women?'
'Not entirely,' he smiled with the old familiar cynicism
as he released her and lit a cigarette. 'The DeVere men have never been
lucky in their choice of women. My grandfather used to say the DeVeres
were cursed because of Friedrich acquiring his wealth,
and
Bellavista, by card-sharping people out of their money and possessions.'
'But that's ridiculous!'
'When you hear what I have to say you might not think so,'
he frowned down at her, drawing hard on his cigarette. 'It started with
Friedrich when Dora walked out on him.'
'No one can swear to that, because no one knows for sure
what happened to her.'
'Then my great-grandmother was afflicted with insanity.'
'She probably never was a mentally strong person, and
Friedrich's death, following Dora's disappearance, merely tipped the
scales for her,' Laura interrupted once again, but Anton continued as if she had not spoken.
'My grandmother died when my father was born…'
'That happened often in those days when medical knowledge
was still so limited.'
'… and my mother ran out on my father and
myself when I was five.'
Laura's compassionate heart felt the pain that must have
been his once, and her eyes filled with tears.
'No clever repartee this time?' Anton demanded with that
faintly mocking smile she knew so well, and, when she shook her head,
his expression hardened. 'My father's bitterness washed over on to me,
and, with my grandfather filling my mind with the family history, it
was enough to put me off marriage for life.' He smoked his cigarette in
angry silence for a time before he continued. 'As for Camilla, she came
into my life at a time when, my father's health was waning, and he
wanted to see me married despite everything he'd suffered. Camilla was
persuasive, and I was on the verge of thinking marriage a good idea
when my father died. He left behind a business which had become a
liability rather than an asset, and Camilla retreated smartly when she
heard the news, but Karl von Dissel became her willing victim.'
'And your faith in women took a further plunge,' Laura
added quietly.
'Women are good for only one thing,' he said harshly
putting out his cigarette and staring hard at her. 'Am I a fool to
think I can trust you, Laura?'
'If we can't trust each other, then there's no point in
continuing with our marriage.'
He raised her hand to his lips and she felt them burning
against her palm. 'Do
you
trust
me
?'
'I know I went a little crazy this evening, but
yes…' She smiled tremulously. 'I would trust you with my
life.'
'My darling!' he sighed a little unsteadily, almost as if
he had been holding his breath, then she was in his arms and they were
kissing each other a little wildly until Anton
lowered
her back on to the pillows with a smile that softened his features in a
way she had never seen before. 'Stay here,' he said. 'I'll make you
something warm to drink.'
'Anton…' she caught at his hand before he could
get up, 'don't be long.'
His lips brushed against hers, travelled across her cheek
to her throat, and returned once more to her lips. 'I'll be as quick as
I can.'
Laura sighed contentedly as the door closed behind him,
and smiled. There was so much they still had to talk about, and so much
she still did not understand, but knowing that she was loved was of
more importance than anything else.
Her thoughts returned to that moment on the mountain when
she had stood poised on the edge of the cliff. She had known that the
fenced-off area was forbidden, but she had never known why. For a few
mad moments she had considered death, yes, but she shuddered to think
what would have happened if that voice had not warned her to stop. It
had been so real, that voice in the rain, but it could not have been.
In a flash of sanity she must have had a premonition of the danger
lurking at her feet, and that voice could only have sprung from her own
thoughts. It was a logical conclusion to reach, but it still troubled
her.
The sound of a car coming up the drive intruded into her
thoughts, but she sat for some time listening to the rain beating
against the windows before she got out of bed and pulled on her gown to
go in search of Anton. Whom, or what, was keeping him so long? she
wondered.
She could distinguish the low murmur of his voice when she
crossed the hall a few minutes later in her soft mules, but as she
approached the living-room door the sound of a feminine voice made all
her old fears return with a rush, and a coldness swept through her that
made her freeze just inside the door.
Camilla was raising her glass to her sensuous mouth, and
she sipped carefully at her Martini before she smiled at Anton with a
mixture of confidence and disbelief.
'You surely don't expect me to take you seriously?'
'I am serious, Camilla,' Anton said, his jaw hard and
unrelenting. 'Find someone else to lean on.'
'But, darling, you know how much I rely on you, and
besides…' She put down her glass and placed a beautiful,
slender hand on his arm as she added a little huskily, 'You know you
love me, and always will.'
'Love was never what I felt for you, Camilla, even though
I once considered marrying you,' Anton stated with a ruthless honesty
that drove some of the chill from Laura's heart as she watched him
remove Camilla's hand from his arm. 'It took a woman like Laura to
teach me the real meaning of the word.'
There was a frightening little silence, then Camilla's
laughter jarred Laura's nerves. 'Don't be silly, darling,' she said
caustically. 'You can't possibly love that insipid creature.'
'Laura could never be insipid even if she tried,' Anton
corrected her harshly. 'She possesses a warmth and sincerity which is
enviable, and in every other respect, Camilla, she's by far your
superior.' He turned suddenly and saw Laura standing in the doorway.
'Come in, darling,' he smiled, holding out his hand to her. 'Countess
von Dissel was just leaving.'
With her confidence restored, Laura went quickly to his
side, and she was thankful for that strong, possessive arm he placed
about her waist when Camilla's dark, venomous eyes raked her from head
to foot before she returned her attention to Anton.
'You can't treat me like this and think you can get away
with it!' she spat out the words.
'Can't I?' Anton smiled derisively.
'You know that when I sign those papers tomorrow Avron
Enterprises will be mine and, with the von Dissel money behind it, I
could ruin you.'