White Heat (16 page)

Later that day they sat round the remains of a fire over which their supper had been cooked since the Primus was refusing to function, and Kent smoked broodingly, not one of his hand-made, expensive cigarettes, but a twist of dried leaf which exuded a pleasant aroma but could hardly have given him much satisfaction. Rolands
—
understanding his master probably much better than Karin thought she understood him
—
refrained from pressing the matter of his newly discovered caves and immediate adjournment to same, and Karin tried not to be aware of the close presence of either of the two men, and sat with her arms hugging her drawn-up knees and wondered with a new sensation of alarm whether they ever would be rescued from Castaway Island, as Rolands had named it. It seemed exceedingly unlikely in an age of television and wireless and radar, and countless other amenities, that they could remain for long unsought-for and undiscovered; but there was always the possibility that it would be some time before help arrived and they were taken off the island, and what would happen to them in that time? How greatly would they change, and how would their attitudes towards one another alter?

So far as she and Rolands were concerned it was very unlikely there would be any change. He was a naturally cheerful little man who would make the best of whatever happened or came along, and she had the feeling that she could depend upon him however unusual the circumstances. His cheerful wink, his knowing nod were immensely reassuring at times; and although his master was not always particularly considerate or even reasonably nice to him
—
as she understood the word nice
—
there was an affinity between the two men that augured well for their continued respect for one another in the event of any prolonged incarceration on the island.

But she, Karin, was a different matter. It was even possible she could represent a problem in time. She was not as tough as the men, and she was, after all, a woman. Women fell sick more easily than men, and in time exposure and rough conditions would tell upon them. She supposed she was as healthy as most young women of her age, but she couldn’t bear it if she ever became ill on the island and a nuisance to Kent Willoughby. How would he react? she wondered, as she glanced at him uneasily sideways.

He was chewing on his manufactured cigarette, and although he was staring out to sea, and it was a wonderful, soothing lavender blue, and the whole wide arc of the heavens was filled with the lemon light of the afterglow, with a rosy flush low down on the horizon where the sun had disappeared, his expression was hardly reassuring. Indeed, it could hardly have been more grim. His dark brows were drawn together and there was a cleft between them that seemed to grow deeper even as she watched. The reddish-brown stubble that clothed his chin seemed to add to the general fierceness of his appearance, and deep down within herself she experienced a pang of uneasiness.

That morning he had accused her of looking unkempt and dishevelled. He seemed to think she was either stupid, or lacking in feminine wiles, because she had not had the wit to snatch up a handbag
—
preferably one that contained a full make-up outfit
—
and the equivalent of a week-end bag before she allowed him to whisk her, literally, off the ship; and it apparently didn’t occur to him that but for his
insistence
on whisking her off the ship she might now be perfectly safe and comfortable aboard the
Ariadne
,
or some other ship that had heeded an S.O.S. call, with Mrs. Makepiece in the next cabin and capable of defending her employee from unjust attack if the need arose, all the clothes she required and something in the nature of a settled future ahead of her.

As it was, she had no idea what had happened to Mrs. Makepiece, her clothes were becoming an acute problem and would become even more acute in the next day or so; her skin was burnt and blistered and her hair coarsened by wind and too much sun, to say nothing of feeling full of sand as a result of using the latter for a nightly pillow, and the most humiliating thing that could ever happen to a girl who had at one time prided herself on her appearance had happened to her. A man
—
the most personable man on the
Ariadne
while the voy
a
ge pursued its leisurely course — had had the effrontery to tell her to her face that she was hardly a pleasing sight for his eyes to rest upon and his beautiful Sarah
—
Sarah Montague, who seemed to have all the virtues
—
even under such circumstances as Karin was coping with, could
not have looked anything like her.

She would have been gladdening his eyes throughout every moment of the day, and she was too wise to have run the risk of becoming a nuisance. Therefore it was a thousand pities that he had not been cast adrift on the broad bosom of the Indian Ocean with Mrs. Sarah Montague for an elegant and welcome companion, instead of Miss Karin Hammond, whose appearance was not merely rapidly becoming an offence but who objected when he elected to while away an exceptionally tedious moment by making love to her.

Not because he was
in love
with her ... but because the crushing boredom of these island days was getting him down.

And in time, Karin thought, with increasing uneasiness, it might get all three of them down...

She rose swiftly and almost gracefully from her huddled position, and without glancing at either of the two men started to make her way down to the edge of the water. The tide was lapping gently on the wedding-ring gold sand, the primrose light lay like a benediction over the heaving waste of sea, and already the first stars were piercing the lavender haze above her head.

The silence of the island was intense at this hour, and, in its very intensity, quite frightening. Karin was always afraid of becoming cut off from the others when the short twilight fell
—
even from being beyond range of their voices
—
but tonight it didn’t seem to matter somehow, and she went walking briskly away along the rim of the island. Even at the risk of spending the night alone
—
and what did it greatly matter if she did?
—
she intended to have a look at Rolands’ caves before the light faded altogether. And once inside one of them she might even elect to stay there ... although she doubted it, as she listened to the dry, crackling movements of the palm leaves, and caught the lonely echo of the surf breaking on the other side of the reef.

She was walking so fast, at last
—
although Rolands had called out to know where she was going
—
that it was almost as if she was beating a frantic retreat from her two male companions; and when Kent — also calling out to her, but more harshly than his servant, to know what she was doing, and where she thought she was going — caught up with her at last the two of them were very nearly breathless, and Karin had the nightmare feeling she sometimes had in dreams when an unknown pursued her and she was desperately striving to effect an escape.

‘Karin!’ Kent laid a hand almost brutally on her arm and swung her round. Her eyes, as she gazed up at him, were huge and shadowy with panic, so huge, and shadowy, that his whole expression underwent a change, and he spoke sharply with pure concern. ‘You little idiot! You look as if you’re petrified half out of your wits!’

‘Let me go!’ she demanded, chokingly, as he snatched her into his arms and held her despite her struggles. ‘Let - me - go!’

‘Only when you’ve told me what you were running away from,’ Kent replied softly, and then he laughed a little in his throat. ‘Not me, surely?’

‘I hate you!’ she told him, as he tried to force her head down into the hollow of his shoulder, and his fingers stroked her hair.

‘I don’t think you do,’ he said, just as softly, but his tone was more serious.

Night
—
the shadowy purple tropical night
—
was closing in around them, and it was just as if they were enveloped in a velvet cloak that wrapped them both about. Karin made a determined effort to escape its smothering folds, but Kent would not allow her to do anything of the kind. It was possible he was afraid that, once she broke away from him and plunged off into the darkness he would never find her again, but, whatever the reason, he held on to her with the utmost purposefulness, and there was even a soft persuasiveness in his tone as he attempted to soothe her.

‘Karin, I want to apologize for this morning. I was a brute to you, and I know it! I took a beastly unfair advantage, and then I behaved like a cad
...’

‘You said I looked a mess,’ she choked, into his
shoulder.

‘Darling!’ He actually laughed, but it was very tender laughter. ‘If I did it was because I feel such a frightful mess myself, with this beard and all—’ it was tickling her smooth skin
—
‘and if you’re a mess you’re a most enchanting mess, a golden-brown
n
ymph who has absolutely no right to need so little adornment. Do you know,’ putting his fingers under her chin and lifting it, ‘even if every stitch of your clothing finally deserts you you’ll still look enchanting ... possibly more so! That’s the unfair advantage your sex has. And you won’t grow a beard! You won’t look more and more like Robinson Crusoe as the days pass, and when your hair reaches to your feet you’ll simply look like a mermaid, not a cave-dweller!’ He growled protestingly. ‘Rolands and his caves!’

She put back her head and looked up at him unbelievingly. There was still light enough left for her to see his eyes, and they were both rueful and extraordinarily, meltingly kind.

‘You
—
you mind...
?
’ she breathed. ‘Growing a beard, I mean?’

‘Of course I mind!’

‘You
—
you mind having to do without cigarettes.’

‘But they’re privations. You can’t be expected to like putting up with them.’

‘The word “privation” doesn’t worry me.’

‘Then what does?’

‘The knowledge that I upset you this morning and for no reason.’ One hand cupped itself about her
slender throat, and the other stroked it caressingly. ‘You’re so sweet, Karin, sweet and uncomplaining. You haven’t said or done a single thing since we landed on this island that could be interpreted as complaint, and Rolands admires you enormously ... as I do.’

‘As you do?’ she echoed rather foolishly.

She felt him take her into a firmer hold. He spoke quietly.

‘Karin, I’ve kissed you on two occasions, and I had absolutely no right. I don’t know what your opinion of me really is, but it doesn’t seem to take much from me to set you running ... away from me!’ She could see the wry twist to his lips. ‘In the beginning, I know, I made myself, un
n
ecessarily offensive ... but it was largely because I’ve formed a kind of habit of protecting myself from various members of your sex. You see, I happen to be rather vulgarly wealthy ... and from the moment I understood what life was about, and marriage is about, I realized there was a very strong possibility that I’d be married for my money!’

‘I see,’ she said.

He looked down at the top of her head.

‘Well,’ he exclaimed, a trifle impatiently, ‘shall I go on? Do you want to know more about me, or are you bored? I realize that here on this island I have little to commend me apart from what I actually appear to be in the flesh ... and that’s frightening enough if the girl is fastidious! But possessions don’t seem to count when
—
well, day after day is the same, and two people who could have been mutually attracted when they first set eyes on each other are flung at one another. I’m certain it isn’t fair to you, and it’s up to you to rebuff me if you feel like it, but I didn’t kiss you this morning just to annoy you. Apart from the fact that I wanted to kiss you
—
badly!
—
I hoped to remove from your mind the memory of that other occasion when I kissed you out of pure beastliness. Understand?’ tipping her face nearer to his.

She made a slight movement of her head which could have meant that she did understand.

He laughed wryly, as if he was not entirely satisfied.

‘There has to be a third time, you know ... third time lucky, they say! If I kiss you again now, will you run away as soon as I release you? Or will you allow our relationship to progress a little? Will you...
?
’

And then, as if it didn’t matter in any case, and he had felt the eager pulse beating at the base of her slim, tanned throat, he uttered an exclamation that sounded curiously stifled and decided to risk it. Hungrily, his mouth sought hers, and with a similar kind of hunger she yielded
it ...
and in a matter of moments his arms were holding her as they had never held her before, and hers were up and around
his neck and she was clinging to him without any form of pretence.

In the tropic dark, while Rolands sat poking the remains of their fire and attempting to enliven it with a few more pieces of brushwood, they savoured the delightful experience of really getting to know one another, and by the time Kent lifted his head and let out a short, sharp sigh of satisfaction Karin was perfectly well aware that she would never be quite the same again. In fact, she
w
ouldn’t be remotely the same again. She would be under the spell of one man, his slave for life, and if they were never taken off the island she would be the last to complain, for in civilized surroundings this might never have happened, and thus she had a great deal to be thankful for.

Which was not quite the same thing as believing he had fallen in love with her. But then so far he had not mentioned love...

‘You sweet thing,’ he breathed huskily, when he was able to speak at all. His hand was shaking as it caressed her hair. ‘Oh, Karin, I know now why that poor fool Paget followed you about so faithfully, always hoping for a kind word. Or at any rate, an encouraging word! I despised him while we were on board the
Ariadne
,
but I feel sorry for him tonight. At least you never kissed him as you’ve just kissed me! Or,’ holding her away from him suddenly, and peering at her with narrowed, questioning eyes, ‘did you?’