CHAPTER NINE

Time passed pleasantly at the villa. Curt's behaviour left nothing to be desired; he was home on time in the evening and occupied himself in living up to every hour of the day. The good weather continued, days filled with sunshine when they lazed, walked or went sightseeing in the depths of the Chateau country. Madame Moreau came to see them often, and they visited her. So the daily routine of their life at the villa was an accepted thing. They had breakfast together before Curt left for his work in the city, and he was home on time in the evening, with an occasional day off during which he spent a few hours in his study dealing with his work back in London. There had been no mention of meeting the Staffordlys again and Felicity heard casually from Henri that they had gone away on holiday.

One of Felicity's greatest delights was the lake, where she swam often or sat smiling on the terrace as she watched the bathers and the gay boats sailing on the water. She wrote often to her father, who like herself had needed a respite from surroundings which had oppressed them. He had friends at his club and lots of things to distract him. Yes, she thought, watching heads bobbing up and down in the sparkling water, everyone at some time or another in their lives needed a break. Life was always changing and adjustments were necessary. How much easier it was if one could go away and dissect their former life, thus putting it into a true perspective in order to accept the change.

On one of his days off from work, Curt took her to Paris and bought her a car. It was a Renault. 'I'll arrange for you to sell your car back home when we return, ' he said, 'there are too many memories of Blain and your mother for you to keep it and be happy. '

He had taken her out for the day in it, insisting upon her driving herself in order to become used to the brakes. 'Thank heaven you're a good driver. I shall have nothing to worry about when you're out during the day. ' It was a day like many others in Curt's company all the more enjoyable because he knew his way about.

'One of the greatest charms about a day out, ' he said, 'is driving along an uncluttered country road and spotting the kind of place where you know you're going to dine well and enjoy it. The small country hotels are the jewels in the crown of France, and their hospitality and food is second to none. '

They drove through dense oak, pine and beech woods, ideal for picnicking, and from a rise on the road gazed down on stately castles and gushing streams just asking for fishermen. The air was like wine when they left the car to stretch their legs and breathe in the scent of blossom by a flowing river.

Curt stood with an arm around Felicity's shoulders and bent his head to breathe in her fragrance.

'You're like a child of the sun, ' he murmured into her hair, 'all gold and shining. '

Felicity reached up a small hand to caress his hard cheek. 'I always want to be in the sun with you, never in the shadow. '

They came upon the little hotel, snuggled in a nest of tall trees overlooking a delightful small village. Their host's greeting could not have been more cordial. Courteously, on a little bow, his eyes twinkling, he said, 'Monsieur and Madame are very welcome. I trust the country air has sharpened your appetites. '

Curt took her arm and followed him into a dining-room filled deliciously with the tantalizing aroma of good cooking.

'Simple home-made fare, ' said their host, serving them with a creamed vegetable soup, a rough country pate, an omelette of meat and mushrooms cooked in a wine sauce, casserole of chicken with mixed Vegetables, strawberries and cream and a bottle of local wine.

Curt's wink, his casual, half-bullying manner in trying to make her eat, made Felicity feel on the edge of laughter. One course followed another, with their; host smiling on them as he put it down as if he was glad of giving them. the opportunity of enjoying themselves. The wine, white and ice-cold, was a delicious drink to Felicity, who felt as if the cool freshness of a mountain stream was trickling down her throat.

Curt raised his glass with a twinkle. 'Here's to us. We must do this often. '

Life's tragedy; the bitter disappointments and disillusionments, faded as in a dream. Too dazed by happiness, Felicity smiled at him dreamily, and finished her glass. He grinned and refilled their glasses. By the time she had finished her second glass, she knew it was one of those perfect days which could never be recaptured, except in delicious memories.

Later that afternoon they motored to a cool spot and lay in the shade, blissfully content. In the fields, the hay waved like a moving golden sea and Felicity came to him on long golden legs with armfuls of yellow daisies and crimson clover. The sun was setting when they returned, and as the gold faded to rose, giving way eventually to a dark turquoise, the villa welcomed them, a white shape against the deepening sky and twinkling stars.

Felicity learned from Curt that the case he was working on was going well, and would probably be over in about three to four months after all, instead of the six months he had expected. While she knew that the present idyllic existence could not go on for ever, she wanted it to last as long as possible with nothing to spoil it. Three months of their visit had already gone when one evening they went across the lake by boat after dinner, for a glass of the local wine from the lakeside restaurant.

They had strolled back to the boat and Curt had pushed it out on the water when a voice called to them; Clifford and Nora Staffordly were on the terrace of the restaurant they had just left, leaning on the balustrade looking down on them. Nora was hatless, and her hair was tucked behind her ears, emphasizing the lovely curve of her neck and face. Against the bright cotton dress, her bare arms and throat were tanned to a golden brown.

Her husband was also bareheaded and deeply tanned, giving his hair a more nondescript look than it usually had. His glance lingered on Felicity. He said something to his wife and smiled and looked at her again, his eyes narrowing in a way that made Felicity glad she was with Curt. There was something about Clifford Staffordly that made her shiver.

He shouted a greeting which Curt answered, resting on his oars before putting them into play. Nora waved; but it was not a happy carefree gesture, and Felicity was startled by her drawn look of unhappiness. Again she felt a twinge of something rather tragic about the lovely face. She could hardly be fretting for Blain, since he had been only one of her many affairs. Why then did she look so unhappy? Was her marriage really to blame, or was Curt the cause? A cool breeze caught them as Curt used an oar to push the boat away from the side after lifting a hand in a final wave to the Staffordlys. Felicity quelled a shiver as something seemed to wing itself over the brightness of her day. Her happiness had been so complete until now. It had occurred to her more than once that, as Nora Staffordly lived just across the lake, it was inevitable that they would meet—the holiday they had taken was evidently over. Yet she had perversely shied away from any thought of them coming back before Curt's work was finished.

She looked across at him under her lashes, at the wide shoulders, strong upper arms with muscles rippling beneath as he pulled lazily on the oars. He had shown no more than the usual amount of surprise and pleasure at meeting old friends, but then he was excellent at hiding his emotions. Was she misjudging him? Had she so far left her girlhood behind that she was fast becoming a jealous wife? Heaven forbid!

Some urge inside her moved her lips to form a question about the Staffordlys, but her deep love for him had not altogether banished her shyness. One intent look from his eyes and she was sunk. It was something that had to be conquered, because until it was she was just putty in his hands; he could do whatever he liked with her.

'Is Clifford Staffordly an... alcoholic? ' she managed at last.

Curt frowned, and said tolerantly, 'Whatever made you ask that question? '

'Is he? '

His eyes moved slowly over her golden hair, gleaming softly against the background of dark trees.

'He was, ' he admitted somewhat unwillingly.

'You don't like him, ' said Felicity.

'He doesn't like me either. '

She lifted candid blue eyes to his enigmatic face. 'But you like Mrs Staffordly. '

'Yes, ' laconically.

She lay back in her seat and trailed her fingers through the water, trying to subdue the tumult of feeling threatening to choke her. She wanted to think that any intimate association Curt had had with Mrs Staffordly was a passing thing, that was over now that he was married; but she could not believe this, not with this sickening fear swamping all other emotions. That brief contact with Nora, a cataclysmic re-entry of the woman into her life, had alerted her to seeing herself as a person trained to control emotions and to ignore violent feelings.

Her convictions dissolved into doubts. Was she wrong?

Was she mistaking a casual friendliness for something much deeper? Felicity had a horror of making a scene and disclosing her own personal feelings, even to Curt. Suppose the whole thing was a fantasy of her own imagination?

The beauty of the night was all around them. In such ideal surroundings how could she have base thoughts? Curt was hers now—the gold band on her finger assured her of this. Her eyes moved again to his face as he pulled easily on the oars, loving everything about him, his dark, exciting looks, his keen, intent gaze, his arrogance, the mockery in his eyes, his courtesy and unfailing charm. Soon she would lie in his arms, and the thought blotted out everything else. The past, like the future, did not count; for her there was just going to be the present—golden months, weeks, possibly days now of being alone together with the rest of the world forgotten. When he had put the boat away, Curt came to where she stood on the terrace.

'You're like a beautiful statue of the Madonna, ' he whispered, breaking off a flower from a trailing vine around one of the stone pillar supports, and threading it gently in her hair. 'But please come to life. '

The scent of flowers lay heavily on the still air and the garden was drowned in moonlight, clear and white. The night closed them in with its mystery, its warmth and its romance.

Curt bent slowly over her, drawing her unresisting into his arms. His eyes narrowed and a gleam came into them, making the blood rim swiftly through her veins. He spoke softly.

'The night is ours, my sweet. It's beckoning us in. Can you hear it? '

'Yes, I hear it. ' Slowly her arms stole around his neck and he bent his head still further, shutting out all things disturbing. Then, with his lips on hers, he swept her up into his arms and carried her swiftly indoors.

* * *

Felicity loved the heat, absorbing it in like a ripening peach. In the fields sloping down from the villa gardens to the lake harvesters were at work cutting down the long golden corn. Dreamily from her seat on the terrace, she watched young men with brown torsoes wielding scythes and cutting the long stalks close to the soil. Lost in the rhythm of the swung curved blade, Felicity was admiring the skill and energy of a craft so seldom seen in the modern age when a voice behind her startled her into turning round.

'Mrs Moreau, ' Clifford Staffordly said smoothly, 'I came to ask if you wanted a lift into the city. I'm on my way there, and would be delighted to give you a lift. '

Native caution kept Felicity from showing her dislike, but her voice as she replied said it for her.

'Thanks, Mr Staffordly, but I have my own car. It's very kind and thoughtful of you to think of me, but no, ' she said firmly.

Unabashed, he smiled. 'Some other time, perhaps? ' he suggested, his colourless brows lifted hopefully in a query.

'I'm afraid not, ' was the cool answer.

In his lightweight beige trousers, sandals and an open-necked silk shirt with the monogram of his old school on the breast pocket—well-cut clothes which he wore carelessly— he could not have looked a more pleasant neighbour. He was standing against one of the stone pillars covered with flowering vines which supported the roof, his thumbs tucked into the top of his trousers. If he was angry, he was covering his anger with an assumed nonchalance.

'I'm sorry you've been warned off me, ' he said with an ugly slant to his rather loose mouth, 'too bad. You and I might have had some good times together. '

Felicity stiffened. 'I've not been warned off you. It so happens that I'm a married woman and I don't require men friends, especially married ones. '

'A one-sided loyalty if ever I saw one. Too bad your husband doesn't reciprocate. '

Felicity's heart moved in her chest until she could hardly breathe.

'What do you mean? '

'My wife—your husband—surely you know? They've always been in love with each other. I feel sorry for Nora, since she hasn't a hope this side of eternity in getting hold of him. '

'I don't believe a word of it. You're lying! '

The words tumbled from Felicity's lips before she could prevent them.

'Then what's your version? You think that he cares for her. I'm sure she cares for him. You think perhaps he has only amused himself with her in the past? '

In a turmoil of feeling, she tried to control herself. 'You'd better go, and take your evil insinuations with you. How right I was in refusing to further our acquaintance! Get out! '

Unable to suffer his company a moment longer, Felicity escaped along the terrace and, round the corner of the villa. She glanced at the men below, still at work in the fields, then turned down one of the pretty walks leading to the boathouse by the lake. She was profoundly shocked by the confirmation of her worst fears. There was a gate at the bottom of the garden opening on to a path, but she leaned on the gate like one who had been running, believing everything Clifford Staffordly had told her.

No wonder Curt had accepted the chance to work-in Paris, since Nora Staffordly was there! She recalled that afternoon with her mother in the London salon, when she had told Nora that she was expecting a baby. There had been the same bleak look on Nora's face as when she had looked down at them the previous evening at the restaurant.

Entirely possessed by the tragic, lovely face of Nora Staffordly, Felicity stood motionless for a very long time, then slowly made her way back to the villa. By the time she had showered and chosen her dress for the evening, the shock of what Clifford Staffordly had said was less acute.

Her dress, a floating grey chiffon, deepened the blue of her eyes, and as she put on the beaten gold necklace and matching bracelet, thoughts of the last time she wore them came flooding back. Her birthday ball. For fleeting moments Blain was somewhere near; she saw him again, meeting her in the hall, his eyes roving over her with the old audacious appraisal. He was strolling with Elvira in the garden, riding to meet her for an early morning canter. She knew again the old, happy expectation, wiped completely away by the painful pang of loss and pain burning inside her.

The chiming of the old French clock in the hall downstairs broke in on her thoughts. She looked at her watch and saw that it was seven o'clock; Curt was late, very late. Maybe he had been delayed and was already on his way— silly to be anxious because he had not telephoned. With her dress billowing around her in a cloudy mist, Felicity went downstairs, aching to see the tall, immaculate, swift-moving figure that for her was the whole meaning of her existence.

And there it was, the sound of the car. Her heart leapt, faltered, then hammered on into her ribs as she ran to the door. At first she only saw a blur of white floating demurely beside Curt's smart city-going suit.

'I'm sorry, ' Nora Staffordly was saying, 'but I insisted on coming with Curt to make my apologies for keeping him so late at his chambers. I do hope you forgive me. I'm so sorry, we didn't notice the time. '

Curt had stood aside to enable Nora to precede him into the hall and she did so, offering her hand to Felicity with a piquant graciousness.

Felicity accepted it with a half-believing smile. She had stiffened perceptively. Then Curt was looking down at her, lean, mocking and narrow-eyed.

'Hello, my sweet, sorry I'm late. I suggest we punish Nora by making her stay and share the delayed dinner, ' he drawled in persuasive tones.

His kiss was cool and confident, and it was on the tip of her tongue to suggest Mrs Staffordly. had probably made other arrangements. But a fleeting glance at the very pretty all-occasions dress, cream linen with a halter neck, so flattering to the lovely shoulders tanned to perfection, told her that Nora had come prepared to stay. Curt's smile was cool and infuriating and Felicity teetered; it was no use thinking of any sympathy or assistance from him.

Very calmly she said, 'Will you take Mrs Staffordly upstairs to the guest room? I must go to tell Henri that we have a guest for dinner. '

She had not looked up at Curt, in case his eyes were still on the radiant creature so near to his shoulder. Instead, her smile, quite an effort, had been trained on her unexpected guest.

Dinner that evening was a desperately unhappy meal for Felicity, although Curt was his usual charming, attentive and amusing self, showing only too clearly his fascination for Nora Staffordly. During the meal she observed her guest with painful curiosity, endeavouring to see her with fresh eyes as though seeing her beauty for the first time, and thus feeling, as Curt must have done, the fresh impact of her charm.

Curt and Blain: both had been victims of that charm of red hair and dulcet tones. She was aware of Nora speaking.

'I'm terribly sorry, Mrs Moreau, about your tragic loss. Not only of your baby, but also of your mother and brother—how shattering it must have been for you, ' she was saying sympathetically.

Felicity, in a turmoil of feeling, was momentarily bereft of words. It was Curt who answered.

'Thanks, Nora, ' he said quietly, firmly. 'We're finding our visit here all the more resting, since it gives us the opportunity to relax and put past sorrows behind us. More wine? Felicity and I are growing increasingly fond of the local brew, but we daren't ask Henri to serve it. He would be shocked. ' His teeth flashed into a white grin as she refilled her glass, but Felicity refused a second.

Nora took the hint and followed his lead away from a painful subject. So the evening wore on, with Felicity smiling, talking and graciously listening, upheld by one strong surge of determination to show nothing to Nora of her own fear and unhappiness. Her look at Curt when he had rescued the conversation from Nora's condolences, had been so grateful that he had raised startled brows, taken aback by its beauty. He had been gentle and teasing in turn, bestowing upon her rather curious looks which she had very carefully avoided. It was a relief, therefore, when he left the villa with his guest to drive her home by car around the lake. They had driven away like a ship into the night, leaving Felicity feeling stranded on an island of desolation, alone.

Numbly, she wandered out on to the terrace to gaze unseeingly across the still waters of the lake as dark now as her thoughts. Voices drifted from the direction of the restaurant on the far side, punctuated by laughter and song. Where did one go from here? she asked herself in despair. Admit defeat and go away, or stay and share her husband with another woman? The latter course was unthinkable.

Felicity pushed her hair back from an aching head. Her emotions were too ragged, too confused to think clearly. All she could think of was that Curt's strength, his tenderness and companionship were her life. She needed him so much in her lost little world, with no niche save the one he had carved out for her. She could not live without his love. That being so, there was no alternative but to fight for that love. Felicity was no coward, but she was also proud, too proud to fight for a man who preferred another woman. She lifted her left hand and drove her right fist into it in her anguish.

She thought of him being with Nora in the intimacy of his car, Curt of the flashing smile and mocking eyes, so unbearably attractive when one loved him, and Nora did. Why, after the affair with Blain, had she had anything to do with the woman at all? And why had she not told Curt to forbid her to the house? Because her love for him made her weak where he was concerned. But she would be weak no longer; she would have it out with him tonight when he returned. With this thought in mind, Felicity drifted unhappily to the lounge. There she drew open the curtains and looked out into the night, drawing in deep breaths of air as she opened the French windows.

She heard the car, and presently he came striding into the room with his usual air of disciplined grace as she turned from the window.

He smiled and put out his hand. 'Come here, my sweet. Tell me what you've been doing all day, and why you looked so cross when I arrived with Nora. '

'Cross! ' Felicity swallowed indignantly. 'I like that! You bring that woman here, admitting that she was the reason for you coming in late, and ask me why I looked so cross. Why was any of it necessary? Please tell me that. '

He saw that she was white and trembling, and knew that the obvious thing to do was to take her in his arms and silence her with kisses. But he was not going to allow any woman to order him to do anything, least of all his wife.

In clipped tones he stated, 'Mrs Staffordly is a friend of mine, and I don't have to explain anything to you. What's got into you? I've never seen you like this before. You've always been so sweet. '

'And so tractable. Why didn't you finish? That's been the trouble. You do just what you please. '

Suddenly he was taut, and speaking with a deadly quietness. 'Now look here, Felicity. I refuse to quarrel with you over such a small thing as bringing a friend home and asking her to stay to dinner. '

'When that friend happens to be an old flame who's still burning brightly, I can hardly see you regarding bringing her home as a small thing. ' Felicity clenched trembling hands. 'What would you have said had I, . arrived home late with Clifford Staffordly, and made the same excuse as you that we hadn't noticed the time? '

'That's entirely a different thing, ' he said tersely.

'You bet your life it is! ' she flung at him. 'I happen to have more respect for my married state than you. I'll have you know that I could have done just the same with Clifford Staffordly, but I happen to have more respect than to mix with his kind. '

'I'm sure you have, my sweet, which goes to show how much you love me, ' he said cajolingly, holding out his hand again. 'Come and kiss me, and put an end to a silly little upset. I refuse to let the Staffordlys come between us any way. '

'You brought her here, I didn't, ' she insisted.

'Come here, ' he commanded.

But Felicity didn't move. 'Why were you so late coming home? What was so important that you didn't notice the time? I have a right to know, ' she told him obstinately.

'As an old friend, Nora was seeking my advice. I did notice the time, but I couldn't turn her away when she needed my help. '

Felicity lifted her chin defiantly. 'I'm sure you couldn't... '

Her next words were stifled into silence as Curt hauled her into his arms and crushed her mouth with his own. She gasped and stiffened in his arms, and he released her slowly.

'Doesn't that convince you that I love you and not Nora? ' he demanded. 'What's the matter with you? ' His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'Just a minute—you mentioned Clifford Staffordly. What's he been telling you? '

Felicity tried to push him away, but his arms were an iron band around her and he refused to release her altogether.

Grimly she said, 'We're talking about tonight, remember? You haven't told me what was so important that you came home late, then asked Mrs Staffordly to stay to dinner. '

He let her go then, pushing his hands into his pockets and looking down on her with a deep frown. 'Is that why you're holding away from me? You've never done that before. Are you using this evening as an excuse for us not to be close? '

Felicity was aghast. 'How can you say that, when you know I love you more than anything else in the world? '

His expression softened and he gripped her shoulders, looking into her eyes searchingly.

'Then what is it? ' he demanded.

'Oh, Curt! Don't you see it's Mrs Staffordly? She has such a reputation for affairs, and you won't tell me why she made you late coming home this evening. '

He shook her gently. 'I'm a barrister, my sweet. What happened between Mrs Staffordly and myself is confidential and personal. I'm bound by my profession not to disclose anything concerning my work in that respect. ' His mouth tightened. 'Besides, giving in to your demand now could set a precedent for the future which I have no intention of giving in to. I'm master in my own house. Do you understand? '

Felicity went white to the lips. 'I understand all right, but I refuse to share you with another woman. Do you understand that? '

She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, and found it impossible as he gave a short laugh.

'What's this? You little idiot! Do you think I enjoyed having Mrs Staffordly here tonight? We see little enough of each other, you and I, as it is. I had something to tell you too. '

She looked at him hopefully. 'What is it? '

He drew her into his arms and his mouth found hers casually, experimentally, and lingered briefly. 'Do you still love me? '

She went willingly into the haven of his arms, which would always hold magic for her, and pressing her slenderness against him, kissed him passionately.

'Now tell me your news, ' she said when at last she was able to draw breath. 'You know you've never been in any doubt about my feelings for you. '

'My work here is nearly at an end, and this week should see it through. Some time next week we shall be flying home to Cherry Trees. We shall be settled in by the time the Colonel returns. You'll want to be there to welcome the poor old chap, won't you? '

'Of course. Oh, Curt, it's going to be heaven to be back home again with you! '

She shone up at him, and he smiled down at her mockingly. 'You haven't asked me if Nora is coming with us? ' he teased.

Felicity's eyes glittered, and she struck at his chest with clenched hands. 'You beast, ' she cried, 'I could kill you! '

He laughed. 'Why not kiss me instead? ' he murmured, drawing her closer.

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