CHAPTER SEVEN

Felicity slept late the following morning, and seeing the time knew that Curt had left her sleeping. He left the house at eight-thirty each morning, and it was now nine o'clock. With the morning sun streaming in through the window the disturbing dream of the previous night lost its menace; it was only a dream and her family had been very much on her mind before she had gone to sleep.

She towelled herself vigorously after taking a cold shower and slipped her bare feet into sandals. Her dress, white cotton with embroidery around the square neck and full skirt, was cool and dainty, and she left her hair loose to fall into its own shape as it curled softly around her oval face.

As she dressed, Felicity's thoughts were on her father. I ought, she told herself with compunction, to have asked him to stay last evening instead of letting him go back to Norton Towers with only Anna and the staff to keep him company—no doubt he had expected her to do so. He must have thought me very uncaring, she told herself. If she had been a little thoughtless it was only because of a deep-seated unwillingness to share Curt with anyone. They saw so little of each' other, for he was away all day and they were only together in the evenings and weekends. But her family was different. She would drive over at lunch time and bring her father back with her.

'The men have finished work in the nursery, madame, ' Henri said when he came to clear away the breakfast dishes. 'They would like you to go and look at it before they leave, in case you want anything altered. '

It was perfect, lovingly planned by herself and Curt. Pale green walls restful for precious eyes; pretty nursery furniture, white with Walt Disney painted motifs of animals and birds; cupboards and shelves built within easy reach for toys. In one corner, still in their wrappings, were a rocking horse from her parents and a teddy bear from Blain.

With eyes rather misty and mouth sweetly curved, Felicity found herself thinking of the old nursery at Norton Towers. where she and Blain had played so happily together. Now Blain would soon be an uncle and she would be a mother. She walked across the room to look out on the tree outside the window, a must for. a nursery where the baby would see the birds nesting and fussing over their young. Below the garden was fresh and green, full of mystery for a child, drenched in folklore and the promise of fairies.

Lost in her dreams, Felicity swung round, startled, to hear Henri say that she was wanted on the phone.

It was Anna. 'Can you come at once? ' she said urgently. 'I think the Colonel has had bad news. A telegram arrived not long ago, and he's sitting in his study. He won't allow me in. '

Felicity's hand was shaking when she put down the telephone. Calm yourself, she told herself firmly, nothing to be gained in getting in a panic. Poor Daddy! She must go right away. The room had darkened suddenly without her noticing it as clouds covered the sun, bringing a swift shower of rain beating down fiercely on the windows. She shivered. It was like an omen of disaster.

Without waiting to collect a coat, she ran from the house to the garage, ignoring the heavy rain spattering her pretty dress and flattening her hair. She had driven half way down the driveway when the car skidded: The tree loomed suddenly in her path; frantically, Felicity forced the wheel round. There was the sudden screeching of brakes followed by broken glass, then blackness.

* * *

She came round to the smell of antiseptic and clinically white walls. Dim forms moved all around her and a masculine voice was saying, 'Poor child. Bad enough to lose one baby, but two.... '

The words struck her to the heart, deadening all feeling, leaving her with the incredulous bewilderment of a child who had lost its way in the dark. The sound of voices buzzed in her ears, shutting her in. Bright lights dazzled in fantastic shapes with flashes of colour that hurt her eyes. She wanted to scream for them to go away, but she knew her own voice would be drowned by the echo of those cruel words returning again and again. 'Bad enough to lose one baby, but two... ' Two babies. Twins. The realization that she had been going to have twins and that she had lost them made her feel physically sick.

Her whole body felt at the mercy of cruel, remorseless hands that were tearing her inside apart, until she wondered how it was possible to endure such agony and live. The heat of the lights seemed to bring them closer until sweat oozed on her temples and she gasped for air. Then, mercifully, the torturing hands had gone and only the voices remained. Why did they have to go on talking? What was it to them? Her babies had meant everything to her and nothing whatever to them. Now her babies had gone and she wanted to get away, anywhere from the constant drone of voices saying meaningless things.

Surely they would let her go away now from the hot, torturing lights, the pain and the; smell of antiseptic. Even animals were allowed to go away and lick their wounds. But her wounds were the kind that would not heal; they scarred her mind and thoughts. Felicity often wondered how she managed to survive that ordeal, in what to her was a torture chamber of blinding lights and the continuous drone of voices intent, upon one thing—to drive her out of her mind. Then mercifully the voices droned away into one. A tap was turned on and there was a slight rush of air as a door was opened. At last she was out of the room, being borne swiftly along a cool, wide corridor. ' The relief, the utter sense of peace was overwhelming. Exhausted, Felicity breathed in deeply and slept.

For a week Felicity was allowed no visitors, during which time she lay there like a waxen doll discarded by some careless hand. She was awakened, washed, fed and her bed made, and none of it seemed to be happening to her. She had not the energy to count the days until, one day, she opened her eyes to see Curt sitting beside her. His eyes were dark with anxiety and love.

'My poor sweet, ' he murmured, and gathered her gently in his arms.

And it was only then, safe in. the haven of his strong arms, that the numbness and horror of all that had happened rose in one tidal wave. She crumpled against his chest into a storm of weeping that shook her to her very soul.

In vain he tried to calm her, but she was past calming herself. The ice around her heart relaxed its hold, the numbness in her brain began to dissolve and she began to feel again things she had tried to forget.

Choked by sobs tearing at her slender frame, her eyes blinded by tears, Felicity clung to him while he stroked her hair and murmured soothingly until the storm that engulfed her gradually abated. It swept away all thought and reason, leaving one quivering and inexorable truth—that the babies she might have had were no more, and the life she had built around them was now no more than a dream. Her desolation and despair were all the more shattering because she alone had been responsible for losing them. If only she had taken more care. Poor Curt! She had done this terrible thing to him as well.

She lifted her head when he passed her his handkerchief, and wiping her eyes, looked up to see something more shattering than grief in the steady composure of his face.

'I'm... sorry... Curt, ' she stammered, and a passion of tears shook her again as she went on incoherently. 'Do... say... you forgive me. It was all my fault. '

She spoke the words against his chest, unable to meet his look in case she saw disillusionment and condemnation in his eyes. He had given her a love and tenderness and a grand passion which in itself had all the fire of vibrant life. With him she had explored all the enchantment and mystery of love which his absolute sympathy and understanding had made the most perfect thing in her life. The babies had gone, but she still had Curt, who meant more to her than anything else in the world.

His voice seemed to come from a distance, soft words of assurance which he whispered in her hair, bringing her ultimate comfort, crushed as she was still by the enormity of her sense of loss. His lips caressed her poor swollen eyelids and he was kissing her almost reverently, tasting the salt of her tears and all her sweetness beneath them. Against the whiteness of her pillow, her pale face, quivering lips and deep blue eyes with the golden hair disordered and curly had never looked so lovely. Now with her arms around his neck, her pale face flushing with colour and stained with tears, she clung to him weakly.

His kisses spoke more plainly than words, telling her that there was nothing to forgive but everything to live for because they were all the world to each other. Contentment and happiness lulled her into a sense of peace. She felt better. Presently she framed his dark face with her hands in a lovely and compassionate gentleness, and was appalled to see it ravaged with weariness.

'Poor Curt, ' she murmured. 'Did I do that to you? I was an idiot rushing off as I did; it was all my own fault. '

He said firmly, 'Put it all behind you where it belongs, in the past. It was meant to be, and that's all there is to it. '

She nodded. 'You're right, but don't you remember? I was going to see Daddy. Where is he? What happened, and why hasn't he been to see me? '

His face darkened with a kind of bitter helplessness, and for seconds the memory of some unspeakable experience seemed to bold him rigid.

'Your father is away at the moment. He's all right, you're not to worry about him. He has me too, you know. '

Again she nodded, but her dark blue eyes were scared. 'Does he know I'm here? And my mother and Blain? Do they know too? '

With nerves stretched and quivering, Felicity waited for his answer.

He paused, taking her hand in one of his and feeling for her wrist and the beat of her pulse with the other.

'My poor sweet, ' he answered, at length, 'you've been very ill, and if you hadn't rushed off as you did and not shut your car door properly, you wouldn't have been here to see anyone. You were flung clear when your car hit the tree. ' A spasm of emotion creased his face before he had it under control. 'For heaven's sake, child, don't you realize you nearly killed yourself? You haven't been well enough to receive visitors. '

His voice had thickened and he was frowning savagely. But already Felicity's mind was on Anna's telephone call, and her own urgent need to see her father.

'I can see him now, can't I? ' she pleaded.

'If you persist in all this unnecessary anxiety, you'll see no one, ' said Curt with measured firmness. 'You must rest today, or you'll be ill again. I was only allowed in to see you because I'm your husband, and if they discover that my visit has in any way upset you there'll be no more visitors for you for the next few days. ' He kissed her hand. 'Be a good girl, and be patient. You'll see him in good time. I can assure you he's all right and sends his love. '

Felicity drew her hand away from his and sat up facing him. Her heart beat suffocatingly, and she spoke with great effort.

'There's something wrong, isn't there? Something has happened that you're keeping back from me. Please, Curt, tell me what it is. It won't make me ill again. I'm never ill. '

Curt looked at her—once, twice, then away again. He said carefully, 'I can see that you're going to make yourself ill if I don't do something to convince you. ' He made an abrupt gesture as though compelled against his will into action. 'Would it settle your mind if you spoke to your father on the phone? He's away on business. '

She nodded.

'And you'll rest and not ask any more questions about anything until you're better? '

She nodded again.

With that he left the room, and returned with the telephone on a trolley. Dialling a long-distance call, he smiled at her as he waited.

'Hello? ' he said. 'Could you put me through to Colonel Vale-Norton, please? Thank you. ' Carefully he turned his face away from her clear-eyed gaze. 'Hello, sir, this is Curt. Your spoiled brat of a daughter insists upon talking to you, ' teasingly. 'She refuses to take my word that you're all right, so I'm putting her on. Perhaps you'll convince her that there's nothing wrong. '

He handed her the telephone with a smile, and she took it with trembling fingers.

'Hello, Daddy. How are you? ' she said. 'Anna said something about a telegram, and thought it was bad news. '

A pause at the other end, then his voice came strong and clear.

'My dear child, we're always having bad news these days, what with one thing and another. I'm sure Curt has put your mind at rest and told you everything is all right. I don't know what I'd do without him. ' His voice grew thick. 'The line is very poor at the moment. I hope you can hear me when I say how very sorry I... we all are to hear about your sad loss. But if it's any consolation to you, your mother lost her first baby too. I don't know if she ever told you. She would insist upon going out riding when she was pregnant, and got thrown from her horse. '

Felicity said choked, 'Daddy, how sweet of you to tell me. Can I speak to Mummy? '

'She's with Blain. Now be a good girl and concentrate on getting well! I believe Girt has a letter for you from Blain, posted the day after your accident. God bless. Look after yourself, and put Curt on the line. I want a word with him. '

Curt was on the telephone for a few minutes, then he put it down.

'Well, ' he said with a smile upon seeing the question in her eyes, 'what is it now? '

Felicity put out her hand. 'You have a letter for me from Blain? '

He drew a postal packet from his pocket. 'Look at it when I've gone, ' he said quickly. 'Nurse will be here at any moment now to throw me out. '

The nurse appeared as he spoke as if on cue, and Felicity wound her arms around his neck as he bent his head.

'You're a pet, ' she told him, and her lips quivered. 'Please don't worry about me. I won't think about anything, only getting better. ' Her clear eyes met his wistfully. 'I'm going to get over it. '

'You will, ' he told her confidently. 'You've got me. I hope you'll always remember that. '

'As though I could ever forget it, ' said Felicity.

'As I said, I hope not. ' He kissed her, straightened and stood looking down at her, then left the room. There was something about the way he went that made her wonder.

She opened Blain's letter when the nurse had gone. Inside the envelope was a small packet containing a pair of earrings, shamrocks picked out in diamonds. They were accompanied by a brief note, Blain fashion—he always did hate writing letters—and they were exquisite, and must have cost quite a sum.

Dear Felicity, he had written. Came up on the gee-gees, hence the little gift. It should perk you up. Love, Blain.

How like him, she thought, not to mention losing the babies; instead he had sent a gift to cheer her. Later, when she could talk about it without pain, she would tell Him that there had been two babies. He was sure to make some smart comment about it. But not now. The wound was too raw.

Whenever she looked back on her days in that small private ward in the hospital, Felicity always remembered the flowers. They were everywhere in the room, from stately gladioli to a small bunch of wood violets Anna brought one day, along with some of her delectable cooking.

'You're so thin, ' she said, 'you want feeding up. '

Curt collected her on the day she was discharged, carried her to the car and from the car into the house. Henri had lunch all prepared and Curt carried her without preamble into the dining room where he set her down into a chair by the table.

'A pleasure to see you back again, madame, ' Henri said as he carried in the champagne and ice.

Curt poured. 'A drink, my sweet, to celebrate your homecoming. An aperitif for the special lunch Henri has prepared. '

Curt teased her during the meal, making sure she ate her share of the food Henri had gone to such pains to prepare— pate de foie gras studded with truffles, a tender chicken casserole with mixed vegetables and thick wedges of caramel, glazed apple tart in delicate smooth French pastry topped with fresh cream. There were cheeses to follow and Henri's excellent coffee.

After lunch, Curt insisted upon her resting, but she protested.

'But I see so little of you, Curt. I want to make the best of this weekend together. '

He had carried her up to their room. 'Only an hour, my sweet, ' he said, laying her on the bed, 'I have some letters to write, then I'm all yours. '

She had washed and changed when he returned an hour later to their room. 'I refuse to be treated as an invalid, ' she said, 'I'm perfectly well. '

He had closed the door behind him and stood leaning against it nonchalantly, his eyes narrowing over her slender figure. He looked strange but beautifully casual in slacks and a cream fair-isle sweater, giving his shoulders the wide span of a baseball player.

'Don't remind me, ' he warned. 'I haven't been able to sleep without you. Furthermore, there's something about you, my sweet, that makes me want to go all primitive and ravish you. '

Felicity's face was the colour of a wild rose. She had always known that she had an inner power to whip up his passion, and although he was the first man she had ever been intimate with, she knew that the intoxication their bodies held for each other was something rare. Her eyes fell before his, but not until she had witnessed the aching and longing in his.

When he came across the room to her there was only a mocking tenderness in his gaze and the strength to wait.

'Well? ' he demanded. 'What do you want to do this afternoon? Your wish is my command. I thought a run in the car to some quiet lake where we can drift along lazily on the water; a light tea somewhere, then an evening at home listening to our favourite music before an early night. '

So that was what they did. When Felicity dressed for dinner that evening she put on Blain's earrings. Curt congratulated her on her appearance, admired the earrings and changed the subject. It was later, when she was in bed and Curt was slipping in beside her, that she said, 'I wrote and thanked Blain for the earrings. I'm sure Daddy said he was due home this week on leave. I suppose Mummy is waiting to come back with him, Daddy too. '

Curt took her gently in his arms. 'No, she isn't, ' he said.

'You have to be very brave, my darling. I couldn't tell you before, not until you were strong enough to take the shock, but now I have to. '

'What shock? Curt, what have you been keeping from me? ' she cried.

Very slowly, very gently, he told her, 'Your mother and Blain were killed in a car crash on the day your mother went to Ireland to see him. '

She gave a convulsive shudder and his arms tightened around her.

'I'd give anything to spare you this, my sweet, ' he went on, his voice rough with emotion, 'but I can't. I can only comfort you. '

Felicity looked at him, blue eyes dilated. His words had left her momentarily speechless.

'You knew, and never told me? ' she gasped, trying to take it in.

His expression didn't change. 'I knew. '

She searched his face wildly, as if seeking the lie to his statement.

'You knew all this time, ' she said. 'It isn't a long time really, though it seems a long time. And you knew. '

Her voice was a shocked whisper. Her head fell against his chest and she closed her eyes. Presently he stroked her hair soothingly, well in command of the situation. She had not made a scene, for which he was thankful. All the same, he wished she had not clammed up, shutting all emotion inside her.

'You did say dead, Curt? Both of them? ' Her voice was hoarse with grief.

'They were both killed instantly. Blain had gone to meet your mother when she arrived at the airport. They left in a car he'd hired, and Blain drove straight at a bollard in the centre of the road. He evidently lost control of the car. '

'But the letter and present he sent! Posted the following day? '

'Posted by his batman. Blain had given it to him to post before setting out to meet your mother. '

'But why? Why should they both die? '.

Curt did hot answer. Felicity lifted her face, conscious of the powerful curve of his shoulders as his mouth sought and closed on her own with the urgency of a strong man's need long suppressed.

Felicity went to Norton Towers on Monday morning, after Curt had left for the city; she wanted to be there when her father arrived back from Ireland. Curt had told her that he was there to collect Blain's things and to attend the inquest. While one half of her wanted to rush and comfort him, the other half shrank from returning to a home now strangely empty.

The front door had been left open by the thoughtful Anna, and she walked in to the fragrance and peace only to be found in old houses.

'My poor lamb, ' said Anna, folding her to her breast. 'As if you haven't enough to contend with! '

'It's Daddy I'm worried about, ' admitted Felicity with a pale smile. 'We'll have lunch served in the lounge, Anna, when he arrives. It's his favourite room. '

The lounge was one of the most pleasant rooms in the house, with three tall windows facing south and catching most of the sun. Here there was none of the sombre, dark elegance of the other rooms. The walls were magnolia, hung with gold-framed watercolours, the parquet floor, beautifully polished, was covered in Persian rugs. Deep chairs and a long, low sofa were covered in gay flowered chintz to match the window curtains. Behind latticed windows of corner cupboards were gleaming silver trophies the Colonel had won at polo in his youth, and his mahogany desk with its deep drawers and secret little cubicles was topped by a beautiful crystal vase of his prize roses.

When he arrived Felicity scanned his face anxiously. He looked older and stooped a little as though cringing from the cruel blow fate had dealt him, but he straightened on seeing her and smiled into her look of concern.

'Oh, Daddy! ' she cried, and ran into his arms.

'My poor child, ' he said. 'Now, no tears. You're not to upset yourself. Come, sit down. It seems you've been through the mill more than I. Was it very bad? '

They walked into the lounge and sat down on the sofa. He took her hand and she tried to curb her emotion.

'Yes, Daddy, it was—I mean, for Curt. He was terribly disappointed, and it was all my fault. '

'I know. You were coming to comfort me. I wish Anna hadn't telephoned you. There was nothing you or I could do about it. ' He squeezed her hand as a tear fell. 'Don't worry. There'll be other children. '

Her lips trembled. 'How can I be sure? I might not be able to have any more. '

'Nonsense. We Vale-Nortons are a strong and healthy lot. You might look streamlined and delicate, but then so does a thoroughbred pony. You'll have other children. You and Curt are too healthy to be childless. '

Felicity went from one painful subject to another. 'Tell me about... Mother and... Blain, ' she pleaded.

He released her hand and put his head back against the cushions. Full of compunction for not thinking about it before, Felicity went to pour him a whisky.

'Have something yourself, ' he said as she gave it to him.

She poured a sherry, and was coining back to sit beside him when the door opened slightly to allow something small and white to hurl itself across the room and up into the Colonel's arms.

'Steady on, old chap, ' he said, putting down his drink to take hold of the wriggling little body as Whisky licked his face frantically in welcome, 'I'd forgotten about you. '

'He hasn't forgotten you, ' Felicity smiled as she sat down beside him, thankful that her father had something to keep him company. 'You were saying, Daddy, ' she reminded him.

'Oh, yes. ' The heeding brows puckered in remembered pain. 'I didn't want your mother to go to see Blain. It wasn't necessary, with him due to come home on leave. ' He shook his head absently, fondling the puppy's ears as it lay in his lap. 'He came home all right; they both did, in a box. ' He had to take down part of his drink before going on. 'They're in the family vault in the church. It was a very quiet funeral. '

Her eyes misted. 'And I wasn't able to be there with you. I'm so sorry, Daddy. '

'I had Curt. I don't know what I would have done without him. I'll be all right now, of course, with Anna. One thing, though, I hate dining alone. I'll get used to it, I suppose. Could ask one or two of my old cronies in. ' His smile was pathetic. 'We live in strange times. Years ago, widows were the fashion. Now it seems that the old order changeth, and widowers are taking over. I'm the fourth in my own circle of friends. '

'But you have Curt and me, Daddy. Would you like to live with us? You'd be very welcome, ' she told him wistfully.

'Good lord, no, ' was the gallant reply. 'Young people are happier on their own. By the way, I've been thinking things over. I'm thinking of staying at my club in London for a while. There'll be too many echoes in the house yet for me to ignore. Maybe when I return, they'll have gone. '

'Are you sure that's what you want, Daddy? ' she asked him quietly.

'That's what I want, ' was the emphatic answer. 'There I shan't be badgered with condolences and long faces of commiseration. Not only that, but you can come up to London and lunch with me some days. And there's nothing to stop you and Curt dining with me any evening you feel like it. They always put on a good menu at the club. '

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