CHAPTER TEN

Anna was waiting to meet them at Cherry Trees, for Curt had telephoned to ask her to fill the house with flowers for when they returned. With her kind face beaming and her hair just a little greyer, Anna greeted Felicity with a hug and a tear or two.

'There's a present for you in your room, ' she whispered conspiratorially, 'I'd love to see what it is before I go. '

And while Curt and Henri busied themselves with the paraphernalia from the cars, they ran upstairs together.

Anna was a little out of breath and sat down on the bed while Felicity untied the cord from a large square box to reveal the silky richness of a fur coat, a fabulous mink. It was from Curt.

'Oh, isn't it gorgeous! ' Felicity cried ecstatically, as Anna helped her into it. 'How like Curt not to say a word about it! '

She was rubbing her face caressingly against the snug collar when Henri appeared with her cases and, shedding the coat, Felicity lost no time in opening one to give Anna her presents.

'I'll give Daddy his when I come over to Norton Towers, ' she told Anna, as she loaded her with presents from Curt and herself.

The Colonel came home to Norton Towers in the autumn to a carpet of fallen leaves in-beautiful colours of brown, orange, flame and yellow, at his feet. Felicity was there to greet him with Anna, and Curt came later to dinner.

Winter at Norton Towers had meant rides over the hard earth, crunchy walks through the crisp snow and shared nights before a big blazing log fire. Felicity, remembering these things, watched her father anxiously over dinner on his first evening home. He seemed little changed, he even laughed occasionally, but the laughter never reached his eyes. Like me, she thought, he will never quite lose the aching longing in his heart to see his loved ones and to hear their voices again.

She trembled to think of her own happiness, with the feeling that she had no right to it. It was so complete, so perfect, that she was afraid to accept it. It could not be real.

'It's real enough, ' Curt assured her, when she confided her doubts to him in the soft darkness of their bed. 'Just take it with both hands and be happy. '

So gradually Felicity's customary good sense prevailed and she realized that in order to enjoy her own happiness it was essential to see her father happy too. She went to Norton Towers every day to walk with him in the grounds, so poignantly lovely now in their autumn colours, and encouraged him to invite his friends in to play chess with him in the evenings. The little Sealyham pup, Whisky, became his constant companion and nothing had been so important to Felicity than to see her father's eyes light up when she came to visit him.

'I'm getting to be an old man, my dear, ' he told her on one occasion. 'You mustn't spend so much of your time with me. You have a husband and a home of your own, and soon there'll be children. '

He looked at her and smiled meditatively, and she felt the hot colour rush beneath her clear skin.

'Perhaps... perhaps I shan't have any more, ' she faltered. 'I had my chance and threw it away. '

'Nonsense. ' He patted her shoulder comfortingly. 'You're healthy, and there's no reason why you shouldn't have children. Have you talked to Curt about it? '

Felicity shook her head. 'I haven't really got around to it. He's so busy with his work. He's a very popular man, Daddy. '

He nodded his head. 'I know, and clever. Too clever. ' He smiled rather sadly at her startled blue gaze and the query in her eyes. 'It's all right, my dear. He's a good man but brilliant. Forgive the brutal candour, but I've always felt that you would have been much happier married to someone with a less demanding career. I know you have a nature that's vulnerable, and you're bound to get hurt. '

She patted his hand as it lay on her shoulder and felt it tremble.

'I'm very happy, Daddy, so stop worrying about me. I love Curt and there'll never be any other man for me. None of us can go through life without being hurt, and I've been very lucky in my family and in my husband. '

Felicity knew this was true. Curt was never too busy, even though his work came home with him, to look after her with a tenderness that saw her smallest wants granted. He lived in a world of briefs and telephone calls, but it never occurred to her to hate his work for taking up so much of his life. He was a man of intense, driving physical energy, an energy needing an outlet in a demanding job. He was also a man with deep feelings and emotions and he had disciplined himself to hold the latter in check. Curt was a man who worked hard and played hard; there were no half measures with him.

Henri, soft-footed and, like his master, mercilessly efficient, ran the house on oiled wheels. He asked virtually nothing since Curt was kind, considerate and very generous to him and the rest of the staff. He gave them generous holidays and chose their presents personally at Christmas along with Felicity, who had expected him to be impatient with shopping, or, like her brother, humorously patient. But he had let her buy things freely, never demurring about the cost, and nothing he bought was second rate.

Easter came and with it the magic of waking trees and flowers, the insistent demands of hungry young birds, the scent of clover, mists of bluebells and the gold of daffodils. The maternity ward in the tree outside the nursery window was full to overflowing. Felicity could hear the baby birds demanding food as she cut flowers for the house. Nearby Joe, the old gardener, looked up at the tree with a twinkle in his eyes.

'No birth pills up there, I reckon, ' he chuckled, and went on tending his roses.

At the Easter recess, Curt brought his clerk home with him for the weekend. He had been with him since he took up office, an attractive young man in his twenties whose unusual colouring of dark brows and lashes and fair hair spoke of French blood. His name was Roger Vallet.

'Enchante, Mrs Moreau, ' he exclaimed when Curt smilingly introduced them. 'I wish all my working weekends were as pleasant as this one. '

'I hope Curt doesn't work you too hard, ' she said demurely, liking his boyish shyness and his appraisal of herself.

'I'm lucky to work with Mr. Moreau, ' he answered gravely. 'It's an honour. '

Apparently they were engaged on an important case and Curt was in a hurry to finish it. So the two men worked until lunch time each day and Felicity went to Norton Towers to see her father. On Saturday evening Felicity -gave a small dinner party partly for the benefit of their guest; the Colonel and Judge Greatman were there, and it had been a great success.

On Sunday evening Roger went over to Norton Towers at the Colonel's invitation, and after dinner Felicity was sitting with Curt in the lounge enjoying their favourite records. Curt had poured out drinks and, after giving Felicity hers, sat down beside her on the couch.

'I shall have to stay at my chambers next week, ' he began, looking down into his drink. 'I shall be in court during the day and in the evening there'll be too much to do to come home. '

'Oh, Curt! Must you? '

Her look was piteously appealing. Curt swallowed part of his drink.

'I'm afraid I must, my sweet, there's nothing else for it. Don't be too upset. ' He put an arm around her and drew her head on to his chest. 'It will only be a matter of about four days, then we can arrange a holiday. What do you say to that? '

She smiled up at him. 'That will be wonderful. Where shall we go? '

'What about the Greek island where we spent our honeymoon? '

'Oh, yes, please, ' she gasped with delight.

'And while I'm away you can shop for it. ' He kissed the top of her head. 'Am I forgiven? '

Felicity lifted her chin and nodded. When his mouth came down hard on her own she felt that nothing in the world existed but their completeness in each other, his lips on hers and his arms possessing her with their steely strength. When the kiss ended she snuggled against him, warm and loving, and listened to the music filling the room.

He was away a week, during which time Felicity missed him dreadfully. The Colonel had friends in now most evenings to play chess with him, and she spent her evenings at Cherry Trees alone. She ran through a gamut of emotions she had experienced at no time in her life before, and could hardly wait as the time drew near for his return home at the weekend.

She had not gone shopping for holiday clothes during his absence, as he had suggested, preferring to wait until he could accompany her. Shopping, like everything else, was so much more fun with Curt. There were moments during his absence which gave her food for thought on the way he was taking over her life. It was moments like these that made her realize how strong the bond was between them. It was sufficient for Henri to mention his name to send her heart leaping with the sense of delight his presence always gave her.

When Saturday dawned, Felicity awoke with the realization that Curt was coming home and she would see him within a few hours. So, after an exhilarating ride on Sandy, she sat down to breakfast and picked up the morning paper. And there it was in large type across the front page. Wealthy Financier found dead.

Clifford Staffordly had been found dead in the lounge of his villa just outside Paris on Friday morning by a maid. Foul play had not been ruled out.

Felicity started to tremble. The words were frightening because they were so conclusive, and she read the smaller print with a sense of shock. There was reason to believe he had been poisoned. Poor man! Although she had never liked him, Felicity was sorry, and she wondered if Curt had seen it. Torn by conflicting emotions, she put the paper down determined to put the matter out of her mind. It was nothing to her that Clifford Staffordly had died from suspected food poisoning; the only thing was she hoped he had not suffered, since it was a dreadful way to die.

Her thoughts immediately flew again to Curt, perhaps telephoning to Paris for more details since Nora Staffordly was his friend. Silly of her to imagine him dashing off to Paris: I have to forget this thing I have about him and Nora, she told herself. And she wasn't going to allow the news of the tragedy to upset her, she decided. But as the day wore on and Curt did not arrive, Felicity grew restless and unable to settle to anything for long.

By the time the telephone rang, early that evening, her nerves were stretched to breaking point.

'Hello! Is that you, Curt? ' she asked with bated breath.

'Yes, my sweet. I'm in Paris. '

A sense of shock washed over her. 'Paris? ' she echoed stupidly. 'What are you doing there? Surely you were coming home today? '

'I was, ' laconically. 'I can't explain over the telephone. I'll be seeing you tomorrow. ' He paused, then added, 'I take it you've seen the morning papers? '

'Yes, I have, ' she answered dully, trying to take in the fact that not only had he gone to Paris without asking her to go with him, he had gone without telling her. He had not even given her the chance to go with him. She put down the phone and clasped her shaking hands together. Had Nora sent for him, or had he gone of his own accord? Whichever way it was he was there with her now. They would probably be spending the evening together, rediscovering each other, finding again the magic in each other that had never actually died but which had remained smouldering.

That evening, because she could not bear her own company any longer, Felicity went to Norton Towers to see her father. Directly the Colonel saw her so soon after dinner, he knew there was something worrying her.

'Isn't Curt with you? ' he asked, seeing the new look on her face replacing the old one of radiant happiness.

'He's working, ' she said, sitting down on a chair facing him by the fireplace, and accepting a drink.

She had been hoping he had not noticed, and she wanted to keep her troubles from him. But though some men are usually unobservant about such things, the Colonel was quick to notice the change.

'Is anything wrong, my dear? ' he asked, sitting down in his chair, glass in hand.

Felicity bit her lip, and her face was expressionless as she fixed her eyes on Whisky curled up on the carpet at her father's feet. It was terribly hard to know what to say without the feeling that somehow she was betraying Curt by talking about him.

'I suppose you've seen the morning paper, ' she began, choosing her words carefully, 'about Nora Staffordly's husband? '

He nodded. 'A bad business, ' was his comment.

'Curt has gone to Paris, presumably to see Mrs Staffordly. I'm worried about him. '

'Why? '

Felicity shot him a surprised glance. He seemed quite unperturbed. Her answer came indignantly with a question. 'You approve? '

'I neither approve nor disapprove, since Curt is a Q. C. and an eminent one. I suppose Mrs Staffordly is suspect number one concerning her husband's death, ' he said mildly.

Felicity looked startled. Her deep blue eyes widened to their fullest extent, and she nearly spilled her drink.

'You meant Curt could have gone with the intention of defending her? The thought never crossed my mind that she could have had anything to do with her husband's death. '

The Colonel looked at her thoughtfully. 'Why else did you think he had gone to Paris? '

Her face flooded with colour beneath his scrutiny. 'Nora Staffordly and Curt are old friends, ' she said in a low voice. 'He's admitted to being fond of her to me, his wife. With a woman of her reputation, what is one to deduct from that? '

Her father smiled at her gently. 'That they're old friends. My dear, Curt is a dangerously attractive man where the fair sex are concerned; he must have had endless affairs in his youth. Nora Staffordly was one of them. All his other affairs have gone, and you aren't concerned with them because you know nothing about them. Mrs Staffordly is the one you happen to know personally, so she looms up as a very real threat to your peace of mind. '

'And my marriage, ' Felicity finished for him. 'Why should he be the one to defend her? There are many excellent men who could do the job just as well. '

'He might have some reason for acting for her, ' said the Colonel satirically.

Irritably Felicity said, 'Why don't you be more explicit, instead of leaving a question hanging in the air? '

'Because, my dear, I know no more about the matter than you do. I will say this, though, I'm willing to back you against Nora Staffordly any time. You're Curt's wife, don't forget that. '

'Marriages, ' answered Felicity darkly, 'are of the eggshell kind today, easily broken. '

To which her father answered, 'And nothing is so dead as a dead love, my dear. ' He smiled wisely. 'And don't look for things that aren't there. I can name several very eligible young men who are still in love with you; David Colston, and two whom I won't name with tides, for example. '

'I don't believe you. Besides, I haven't been out with any of them since my marriage. ' She smiled at him fondly. 'It's nice of you, Daddy, to cheer me up. '

And the Colonel wisely left it at that.

Felicity awaited Curt's arrival the following day with mixed feelings. To begin with she was angry with him for doing what he had done without any thought to herself. Nora Staffordly did not bother her so much. If she was to be charged with murder, then the woman would need all the help she could get—but not from Curt. Felicity was determined about that. She thought of Curt despairingly, remembering how fatally easy it was to succumb to his virile, overpowering attraction. Achingly she wanted to feel the strength and comfort of his arms around her and seek forgetfulness in his lovemaking, but his actions had started a train of thought that could not be lulled into a feeling other than false security. I won't run to meet him, she told herself, and with this thought in mind she was out longer than usual that morning, riding on Sandy. The air was crisp and cool through her gold wool sweater, but when she dismounted at the stables there was heat in her cheeks as she ran a finger around the high polo neck.

After rubbing Sandy down, Felicity put her cheek against his head, wishing she felt as placid and content-as he did. The old tree sheltering them from the sun overhead rustled gently, and she let the peace of the musk-scented stables wash over her. She never heard the car.

Curt came towards her and the blood drummed through her body. Her heart lurched as he smiled down at her with his usual breathtaking charm.

Suddenly, the voice she heard speaking did not seem to belong to her.

'So you've come back, ' she was saying. 'Did you have a good time in Paris? '

He looked down at her curiously. 'Have you missed me? ' he mocked.

Despairingly, Felicity knew he did not regard anything he had done to be questionable, and while it angered her more it also made her feel helpless. She saw him through a mist of tears and closed her eyes as he hauled her in his arms. The world was filled with the subtle flavour of his personality, Sandy whinnied his approval and Curt's mouth was firm and clinging on hers.

Frantically she thought, I've ached for this, yet dreaded and feared the complete domination it brings. Where is all that resistance I built up against it? Her hands became useless things in her defence; instead of pushing him away they were as treacherous as her heart, clinging in a shameless disregard for pride. Felicity was flushed and breathless when he let her go, still bemused and giddy with the reaction of his nearness.

Shaken, she looked up, and the mocking light in his eyes acclaiming his arrogant conquest refreshed her memory. The trip to Paris, his masculine assumption that he could do what he liked regardless of her feelings fired her resentment anew. She shivered, and at once he was all concern.

His arm was warm and vital around her shoulders. 'You're cold, ' he said tenderly, 'I hope you haven't caught a chill. Come on, let's have breakfast. I'm famished. '

'You're eating nothing, ' he said roughly, making a good breakfast himself. 'Come on, let me see you eat. ' His look was curious. 'The Colonel all right? '

'Yes. '

'Then what is it? ' He grinned. 'You've been pining for me? '

The dark blue eyes meeting his were clear and resolute. 'Why didn't you tell me you were going to Paris? ' she asked quietly.

The tilt of his eyebrows was very attractive. He looked startled.

'Should I have done? '

Felicity compressed her lips. 'I was expecting you home on Saturday. Henri cooked dinner and you never came. '

He pushed back his empty plate and used his table napkin. 'Sorry about that. But Roger, my clerk, telephoned you, surely? '

'No, he didn't. In any case, what prevented you from telephoning yourself? '

He picked up one of the morning papers which Henri had placed near them on the table and opened it.

'Pressure of work, for one thing, ' he answered laconically.

'And for another? '

He lowered the paper and his eyes glinted dangerously. 'Look here, what is this, an inquisition? '

Felicity lifted her chin. 'You didn't telephone me because you knew that I would object to you going to Paris. '

'My dear girl, your objections don't enter into this, since it's in the line of duty that I went to Paris, ' he told her calmly.

She got to her feet and walked to the window, presenting him with a slim back. 'You mean it was nothing to do with the Staffordlys? ' she said without turning round.

'I meant nothing of the kind. I'm going to take up the case of Nora Staffordly, who has been arrested on a charge of murdering her husband. '

Felicity swung round, her blue eyes wide. 'How terrible for her! I'm sorry, of course, but I don't see why you should be the one to defend her. There are others who could do so. '

Curt had moved behind her and he put his arms around her, drawing her back against him to talk over her head.

'I'm sorry, my sweet, but I'm already committed. Mrs Staffordly is a very old friend, and I'd be a poor sort of a friend if I refused to help her in her hour of need. '

'But you told me only last week that you were up to your ears in work, ' she accused him shakenly. 'You were too busy to come home. '

'True, ' he agreed, 'but I couldn't do any other where a friend is concerned. '

'But surely there's some way out. It isn't right, Curt. What about our holiday? '

'That will have to wait. I'm sorry, my sweet. It's going to be hard on you, but I'm sure you wouldn't want me to act any differently. I've given my word, and once I've done that nothing nor no one will make the slightest difference to my decision. '

Felicity did not answer, and a feeling of utter despair swept over her. Slowly he turned her round to face him and she looked up searchingly into his face. Then, with her arms winding themselves around his neck, she said pleadingly, 'Please, Curt, let someone else take the case. Please... '

'Darling, ' he said, and there was a firmness in his voice which told her the answer even before he said it, 'I will not have you interfering in my work. The answer is no, a very definite no. The time will soon go, and afterwards I shall make plans to take Roger into a partnership with me. Judge Greatman wants me to follow in his footsteps, and I've promised him that I'll think about it again when he's due to retire. It will give me more home life if I accept. '

She stared at him pitifully, and was silent. There was nothing to say, nothing to do but accept his decision. What power she had over him was as strong as he would let it be, and no more. No doubt he loved her and needed her love in return, but he would not be swayed by it in any way.

That Sunday and the Monday, Curt was with her and not with her. Attentive and teasing as he was, he gave the impression that his thoughts were elsewhere; yet she could not complain, since he was everything a woman needed from a man, a perfect lover and a man with whom one felt sheltered and protected. It would have been easier for her had he been thoughtless and cruel—at least then his going would not mean so much. But he was with her all the time he could spare despite his many commitments, coming home each evening and even managing to lunch with her in town until the end of the week and his departure for Paris.

On their last evening at home, Felicity was torn between asking to go with him and staying home. He had not asked her to go in any case, knowing as he did that she did not care for Nora Staffordly. There was no reason why she should not go with him, but the torment of knowing the times he would be with Nora Staffordly would become unbearable. And he had promised to come home every weekend, which meant sharing with him a few days completely divorced from his work. During that time he would be hers completely. He was leaving Henri in charge, and was going to stay in a very excellent club in Paris for the time he was to be there.

Felicity had been surprised that he had not made arrangements to stay with his mother at her place. While Madame Moreau did not interfere very much with her son and daughter-in-law, her behaviour with Curt was far different than Elvira's had been with Blain. Which was the reason, Felicity thought, that Curt was stronger in character and not weak like Blain.

'I'd feel better, ' Curt said as he kissed her goodbye at the airport, 'if you would stay with your father at Norton Towers while I'm away. '

'I'm staying at home, ' she answered, blinking back the tears. 'I want you to myself when you come at the weekend. '

Somehow she managed to tear herself from his arms and her hands groped the empty air as she watched him stride to the plane. She saw them shut the doors, saw the propellers turn and heard the drone of the engines as the men removed the blocks. The service and fire vehicles swung away across the tarmac as they tested the engines, then the ground crew stood back. The plane turned from its stand, entered the runway to run into a final turn before soaring up into the blue, and suddenly it was gone.

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