CHAPTER THREE

Blain arrived after lunch, and was shut up in the library with his father and Curtis Moreau for the rest of the afternoon. So when David Colston rang to ask her to go out for the evening to a show and dinner, Felicity accepted. His home was a matter of two miles away, and he called to collect her in his car. She saw his look of appraisal as she slipped into her seat beside him, and they sat together in silence until he reached the motorway.

'Have you missed me? ' he asked with a swift glance at her delicate profile.

'Naturally. '

'How much? '

'Considerably, since Blain has been away too, on manoeuvres, ' she said lightly.

'Changed your mind about what I asked you? ' he asked quizzically.

'No. But need we talk about it tonight? I want to enjoy myself! ' She wondered if he had heard about Blain's affair with Nora Staffordly, and concluded that it was quite likely that he had. He did not enlarge upon her remark, and she was content to rest her head back and allow the cool breeze to blow against her face.

The show they went to was a good one, with one of her old favourite film stars in the lead. She thoroughly enjoyed it, although David seemed to be a little restless. As it was Saturday night the restaurant they went to afterwards was crowded, but David had booked a table on the terrace and they dined out of doors.

It was over coffee that David's restlessness flared, and he caught her hand across the table. His face was flushed beneath the tan and he looked searchingly into her deep blue eyes.

'Felicity, you've got to marry me. I can't get away from you no matter how I try. All the time away I kept thinking about yon—I can't concentrate on anything any more. Nothing makes sense to me unless you're included—I love you. Say you'll marry me. ' He spoke with urgent desperation. 'I don't mean right away, if you'd rather not. But couldn't we become engaged? '

'Please, David, don't. ' She rose to her feet, her thoughts going round in her head until they did not make sense. She could do worse than marry him. For all his faults he was straight and honest, and once away from his mother he might be the kind of man she wanted. Her parents would be delighted, but would she? Now that she had to make a choice for her future way of life, Felicity was frightened, too frightened to plunge headlong into something which would so deeply involve her own life and his.

Against her will her gaze was caught by his. 'I'd like to go home, ' she said.

She walked ahead of him to where they had parked the car and he came up behind her.

'Felicity. ' He turned her round to face him, his voice strangely humble. 'I'm sorry if I've upset you. I didn't mean to. Only having you with me this evening, looking so lovely and untouchable, made me realize how much I want you. '

She tried to be flippant, hating the idea of hurting him. 'That's the little boy in you, wanting what he can't have. '

His hands tightened painfully on her arms. 'Don't joke about it. I'm perfectly serious, ' he said grimly.

'So am I. Shall we go? '

When they drew up at the door of Norton Towers, David switched off the engine and Felicity gave him her hand.

'Thanks for a pleasant evening, ' she said.

But he looked down at her hand and ignored it sulkily, and she left the car to hear him grudgingly return her quiet goodnight. He drove away immediately, leaving her walking to the entrance door. Watching the tail lights of his car disappear along the drive, she turned towards the garden, feeling the need for air. Pity the evening had been spoiled, she thought; but then it had been spoiled for David too. She took a path roofed in by pergolas of roses and walked to a white marble seat where she spread out her long skirt and sat down.

She had shrugged off many proposals, but none of her suitors had the happy associations which David held for her. Maybe it was because he reminded her so much of Blain that she was so disturbed about refusing him. But while he was a stimulating and amusing companion, as a husband he would fall very short of the kind of man she wanted. As yet Felicity was not sure what she did want, but she knew it was not a man she would have to mother.

She sighed, then started as a light firm footstep sounded on the still night air. Turning her head sharply, she saw the glowing end of a cigar and then the man behind it.

'Well, well, ' Curtis Moreau drawled deeply. 'Did you slide down a moonbeam to keep a rendezvous with the little people? '

It was maddening and embarrassing to find her heart going twenty to the dozen at the mockery in his voice, and she was suddenly tongue-tied. In the moonlight he looked darker and even more inscrutable than she had remembered him, with the white of his shirt contrasting sharply with his dark evening suit and tanned face.

She found her voice. 'No, just an ordinary mortal who is loath to go indoors on such a heavenly night. '

'Pity your escort had to leave so soon. He's missed the best part of the evening, ' he said, lowering himself beside her at the other end of the seat.

Felicity lifted her chin. 'That's a matter of opinion, ' she said defiantly.

'Indeed. ' He flicked the ash from his cigar and stretched out his legs more comfortably. 'What is he, dumb, deaf and blind? '

She clenched her hands, hating the cynical inflection, and wished idiotically that she was as experienced as he was in life. The knowledge that she was not his kind of woman not only infuriated her, but also made her feel inexperienced and naive. His mocking amusement hurt in an inexplicable way.

Her voice slid on ice. 'As you are a guest I can't very well show my resentment at your unwarranted interference, but I would remind you that I am my own mistress and I am answerable to no one. '

'Are you? ' he answered, quite unabashed. 'Rather cold up there on your pedestal, isn't it? Lonely, too. ' Suddenly his hand shot out to grip her arm beneath the flimsy evening wrap. 'You're cold, you little idiot. What are you trying to do, catch a chill? Come on, you're going indoors. '

He dropped the butt end of his cigar and ground it with his heel. Then he pulled her to her feet. It was true that Felicity had been feeling the nip in the night air moments ago, but now it seemed that his light firm touch had sent an exhilarating heat through her body, flowing like a heady wine through her veins. Angry and dismayed that he should affect her so, she walked beside him in silence, her head averted.

'I was in the Guards when I was younger, ' he vouchsafed. 'We might have met had you not been in the schoolroom at the time. '

She lifted her chin. 'I'm twenty-five. '

He raised an attractive brow. 'You look about eighteen. '

'I haven't your experience, ' she retorted.

'True, nor my years. I'm thirty-one. '

Felicity imagined him in the uniform of the Queen's Guard, the hussar type, dark blue fringed with yellow, scarlet-striped, topped by a busby—an outfit well suited to his lean, wide-shouldered frame. How often had he strolled with a girl in the gloaming of a summer evening away from the musk-scented stables to the chivalrous clink of spurs and the scent of honeysuckle from creeper-clad walls?

For some reason the thought gave her pain and she wanted to hurt him, if that were possible.

'What happened? ' she asked caustically. 'Did they throw you out? '

He gave a deep-throated chuckle.

'You sound as though you were hoping they did, ' he said with cool amusement, and she felt a little ashamed. After all, he was there at her father's invitation, and her anger was quite unwarranted since he had been concerned about her being cold.

She glanced at his profile from the corner of her eye, the masculine nose that would give character to any face, the firmly cut lips curved humorously, and she wondered at his thoughts as he pushed his hands into his pockets and slowed down his stride to accommodate her shorter one.

'I resigned my commission, ' he went on, and looked down at her his expression suddenly grave. 'My father was wrongly accused of falsifying the accounts of one of his companies, and the fool of an advocate blundered and failed to get him an acquittal. My father died from a heart attack brought on by shock. He never heard the truth come out and his name cleared. That was the reason I studied for the bar. I took silk four years ago. '

They had reached the house and Felicity wanted to say she was sorry, but he did not give her the opportunity. She was on the verge of speaking when he gave a cool very brief bow.

'Goodnight, Miss Vale-Norton. You mustn't stay longer in the cold air. Take a warm drink before you go to bed, preferably hot milk with a little whisky. Sleep well. '

Sunday passed pleasantly and swiftly, beginning with an early ride when Felicity was accompanied by her brother and Curtis Moreau. Blain had become an ardent admirer of the man who was going to represent him.

'I wish I had his brain, ' he said to Felicity with brotherly candour. They were walking to the tennis courts, racquets in hand, after lunch.

'You probably have the equivalent. His is razor sharp because he's disciplined it that way. '

Felicity swung her racquet negligently, looking down absently at her long slender legs in white tennis shorts. For some reason she was back on ice where Curtis Moreau was concerned.

Blain looked at her thoughtfully. 'You don't approve of him, do you? '

'I neither approve nor disapprove, ' she shrugged.

He appraised the blue scarf tied round her head and knotted at the side of her slender neck, the open-necked cream silk blouse tailored to fit the small pointed contours of her pretty bust, the small waist and slender hips.

'I bet he approves of you, ' he said mildly.

They had reached the tennis courts, and Felicity hated to think that they were in full view of the lawns in front of the house where Curtis was talking to her parents. He was leaning negligently against one of the stone pillars supporting the terrace, at one with the strangeness of his surroundings. The fact that he seemed in command of any situation served to set off her feeling of antagonism.

'There I don't agree. ' She flexed her fingers before gripping her racquet more firmly. 'I don't think Curtis Moreau approves of either of us. Shall I serve? '

She moved round to the opposite side of the net, deliberately presenting a slim back to the watchers on the terrace.

For the next quarter of an hour or so she became engrossed in a brisk game. Blain was on form, having loaded his troubles on Curtis Moreau's broad shoulders. Then they changed places and she moved round to the other side of the net to see her parents and their guest watching, engrossed in their playing.

Bareheaded, Curtis Moreau still leaned indolently against the stone pillar, his subtle arrogance giving an air to the casual sweater and linen slacks he wore and making them seem correct.

Felicity allowed her glance to rest momentarily upon her audience, then concentrated upon the game. In spite of deliberately doing her best, her own cool front began to shrivel and her movements were off cue. She was leaping to stop a particularly strong volley when her foot slipped, and she fell sideways on the hard court.

Instantly, Blain leaped over the net to bend over her anxiously,

'That was some dive, ' he said sympathetically. 'Are you hurt? '

She tried gallantly to smile, feeling shaken and slightly sick as he placed an. arm about her shoulders.

'I'll survive, ' she assured him weakly, trying not to wince at the painful twinge in her elbow.

The next moment Curtis Moreau was there, bending over her and straightening her slim, golden legs, feeling for injuries with cool impersonal fingers. Moisture gathered on her temples and she gave him a pale fleeting smile.

'I'm all right, ' she said.

He looked at her pallor and slid his arms beneath her. 'I'm going to carry you indoors, ' he said. 'You look shaken and you need to take it quietly for a while. '

Before Blain could offer to help he had swept her up strongly into his arms and was striding purposefully towards the house.

'She's only shaken, but I think she'll benefit from a little rest, ' he told the Colonel and Elvira, who were on their feet as they approached the terrace.

Felicity, who was recovering her breath, smiled at them reassuringly.

'I'm all right, ' she said. 'No bones broken. '

Her parents nodded dazedly, and watched them go through the doorway into the house. It was odd that Anna seemed to be nowhere about when Curtis mounted the stairs; or perhaps she was busy in another part of the house. In a way, Felicity was glad Anna was missing. Somehow she would feel embarrassed beneath -that critical, kindly gaze in the arms of a strange man. At least, he was strange for what little she knew about him. But she was learning fast, learning that he had the power to set her pulses racing madly, and that she could have rested in his arms forever.

The relief when he laid her down gently on her bed was overwhelming; for a few seconds the room spun round and she felt sick. She lay limply allowing the bed to take her weight as dew gathered on her temples. Her hands were moist and clammy, and she shivered.

Curtis looked enormous as he bent over her in a wavering mist, and she wished he would go away. He did. Then he was back with a tray and a cup of sweet tea. By this time the faintness and nausea had gone, and she managed to push herself up into a sitting position as he entered the room.

His glance at her was keen as he put down the tray.

'How are you feeling? ' he asked, pouring out the tea.

'Much better, thanks. I'm glad you brought me to my room. I thought you were making an unnecessary fuss. It must have been the violent way I fell, it kind of upset my balance. I'm fine now, though. '

'You will be when you've had a drink. ' He pushed the pillows closer to her back and gave her the cup of tea, then he sat down on the side of the bed and grinned at her. 'You certainly put an enormous amount of energy into your game. ' He rubbed his clean-shaven chin reflectively. 'I had the idea that you were taking me for the ball, hence the vicious attack. Was I right? '

Felicity sipped the tea, not in the least surprised at his keen perception. Her sinews tightened as he waited for an answer; suddenly the air was fraught with electric waves and they seemed to be coming to her from him. She could not speak at first for the beating of her heart. But Felicity was not one for not speaking the truth. She smiled waveringly, a charming dimple in the curve of her cheek.

'I told my mother last evening after dinner that I found professional people, such as doctors and Q. C. s, very embarrassing to be with. They're not only too discerning, they are also arrogant. You are both. '

He raised his brows. 'So I was right. You were hitting out at me? Fine. I like spirit in a woman—shows she's alive. Neither a horse nor a woman are any good without it. ' He grasped her left arm gently and, bending his head sideways, examined her grazed elbow. 'Does it hurt? ' he asked.

Felicity shook her head. 'Not much. '

His tongue was in his cheek. 'That, my dear Miss Vale-Norton, is the understatement of the year. There's gravel in the wound and it has an angry look. I bet it's hurting like hell. ' He looked round the room. 'Have you any dressings handy? '

She nodded. 'In the bathroom cabinet. '

He strode across the room into the bathroom and was back in record time:, armed with a towel, soaped face-cloth smelling of antiseptic and an adhesive dressing.

'This is going to sting a little at first. Just dwell on the relief from pain two minutes from now. '

His touch was extraordinarily gentle, and he glanced up at her face as he cleaned out the wound. Felicity felt no pain, for she was too conscious of the man treating her so deftly. He had, as it were, stormed into her neat, well-ordered existence with the cataclysmic charm and unexpectedness of an entirely new experience. Until now her life had not brought her into the company of young men of his calibre; from their first meeting he had excited her brain and imagination. She was feeling odd again, only this time it was an oddness resulting from some kind of exquisite terror. Her breath caught suddenly as she wanted to reach out and touch the firm springy growth of his hair, to let her hand slide down the curve of his tanned face. Then she knew that her terror was fear of him. He alone had the power to make her feel fright... and love.

With a wild exultant leap of her pulses she knew that this man, whom she had known for little more than two days, had taken possession of her as surely as if they had slept together. Effortlessly, he had stepped in and taken her with all that casual arrogance she had so bitterly resented, but which now made her clay in his hands.

She loved him. It seemed incredible. The quick currents of electricity rioting through her veins at the touch of his hands was the kind of feeling poets raved about. And it had happened to her.

'There, how does that feel? '

He fixed the waterproof adhesive dressing with a last gentle pat and smiled at her. Felicity shook herself from her thoughts with a sense of shock. But if something cataclysmic had happened to her it had not affected him, for he regarded her lazily with narrow-eyed charm.

'Very comfortable, thanks, ' she replied, and he moved from the bed to return the things he had used to the bathroom.

Bemused, she looked around the room, seeking some change. Since her own life had changed so drastically it did not seem possible that there was no difference in the still quiet room, with its flowers and feminine furnishings which were so much a part of a woman's domain.

Anna came in before Curtis returned from the bathroom, and Felicity had an idea her look of surprise was assumed for the occasion.

'What's happened? ' she queried.

'Miss Vale-Norton fell on the tennis courts and grazed her elbow, ' Curt followed his deep voice from the bathroom. 'She's resting. '

'I see, ' said Anna, taking in Felicity's scarlet cheeks and starry eyes. She took in the tea tray thoughtfully. 'Would you like some fresh tea? '

Curt said, 'No, thanks. I'm leaving Miss Vale-Norton to rest. '

'Now that is what I call a man, ' Anna said when he had gone.

Felicity never did remember much of the rest of that day. After a rest she took a bath and dressed for dinner, sensing only an occasional twinge in her injured elbow. Anna was noncommittal as she helped her to dress, but there was a decided gleam in her eye as she put out the white silk dress, demure in its simplicity, with its Empire bodice and long full sleeves. The thick eyebrows rose a trifle as Felicity allowed the dress to fall over her slim form without comment. Usually she chose her own dress and was very decided in what she was going to wear. Tonight, however, her thoughts were far away.

It was only when she was on her way downstairs that she came back with a jerk to the present, for Curtis Moreau was taking the stairs two at a time towards her. He halted upon seeing her, and her heart gave a curious tilt. Her eyes fell from his—she was painfully aware of herself, and of him. A wave of colour washed over her face as she came slowly down the last steps to where he stood. Again Felicity was conscious of the strength and magnetism of his personality. She found herself looking at him with new eyes, knowing that the magical mystery and ecstasy of love had passed her by until now. It was one of those inevitable things, as sure as the laws of nature, yet swift, terrifying and overwhelming but with the lovely simplicity of all things natural.

He said, with a gleam of amusement in his eyes, 'How is the elbow, and how are you feeling? '

'All right to both, ' she answered demurely. 'Thanks again for your kindness. '

He expressed his delight as they walked down the rest of the stairs and across the hall into the lounge where her parents were waiting along with Blain. As all three had been to her room to see her soon after Curtis had gone downstairs after dressing her elbow, they asked solicitously how she was feeling and her father poured drinks.

All through dinner, Curtis Moreau emanated a magnetism to Felicity that was irresistible, and impressed the rest of the family with his easy charm, her mother especially. Elvira hung on to his every word with a look in her eye that her daughter had never seen before, almost coquettish.

So the evening wore on, with Felicity feeling a little bewildered because Curtis Moreau, while charmingly affable and courteous, kept everything impersonal. On an acute sense of disappointment and the feeling that she had been steeling herself against something which was not likely to happen, Felicity left the dining room eventually with her mother, who went to make a promised phone call to a sick friend.

Slowly Felicity strolled out on to the terrace, and breathed deeply of the scented night air. Her life here at Norton Towers was happy and uncomplicated, and she had been crazily happy with Blain for a companion. Why then should she want it altered? Curtis Moreau's attractions lay in the fact that he was different from the other young men of her acquaintance. She had simply lost her head over his little act of chivalry; it was no more than that.

How long she stood there, clinging again poignantly to the past after that rather ecstatic look into the future, Felicity did not know, but she gave a violent start as the aroma of a fine cigar drifted along towards her. Gripping the stone edge of the balustrade, she kept perfectly still, hoping that he would not turn his head and see her. Her white dress was hardly a camouflage in the soft gloaming of the summer night, and there was a pause while he dispensed with the butt of his cigar.

Seconds later he had come to a halt beside her to say quietly, 'I'm leaving tonight for London, Miss Vale-Norton. ' His smile was wholly charming. 'May I thank you for making my visit a very happy and memorable one? I've thoroughly enjoyed myself. '

He put out his hand and her heart gave a curious lurch. 'So soon? ' she said, turning slowly to look up into his enigmatic gaze. He would reveal nothing of his feelings, this man who had so steeped himself into disciplinary action that his heart was automatic as well.

'I must. ' His fingers closed around her small hand with gentle firmness as he went on in a less impersonal tone, 'Will you walk with me to my car? '

He released her hand and she walked with him along the terrace.

'You have a beautiful place here, ' he commented pleasantly. 'I live in chambers. '

'Have you no family? ' she exclaimed, chiding herself for feeling sorry for this polished automaton.

'I have a mother who lives in Paris. I also have an excellent homme a tout faire in my mé nage named Henri. ' He spoke with the careless arrogance of a man whose life set out deliberately to please him. Felicity felt suddenly shut out.

'Are you French? ' she asked, for something to say.

'My father was French. My mother is English. She has lived in Paris since my father died, ' he answered laconically.

Felicity found herself wondering what kind of a woman his mother was, and how much of how little other women had counted in his life. There obviously had been other women, since he had that congenital magnetism that insensibly draws and captures them. They had reached his car, and he leaned against it negligently as he spoke again.

'Will you dine with me one evening? ' he asked casually.

Taken aback, she hesitated. Then, because the thought of not seeing him again was unbearable, she nodded.

'I'd love to, ' she answered.

'Shall we say Thursday evening? I'll come down to collect you at around six o'clock as it's an hour's run from London; that should get us there in good time for a show and dinner afterwards. ' He straightened and looked down at her quizzically. 'And don't you think you could call me Curt, Felicity? '

Again she nodded, and felt him take her hand, saw his teeth white in a grin.

'Goodbye until Thursday, and let Anna put you a fresh dressing on that elbow tomorrow. Take care. '

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