CHAPTER ELEVEN

The first week Curt was away was the longest Felicity had ever lived through. They had been parted so much since their marriage, and she could have borne it more easily had they been married a year or more, when their life together had become more stabilized. He had left her at a time when she was still enchanted with a union of twin souls, her own and his. Her whole world centred upon him. She knew that love to a man was not the same as to a woman—whereas all her waking thoughts were his, Curt's would be filled with his work. His love for her was the softening quality he needed to make him more tender, more human, but it was to him a thing apart. It would never be his whole life.

The first evening on her own she went to dine with her father, and his company did much to bolster her morale. Driving back to Cherry Trees she decided to revert to her old life of entertaining and visiting friends; her father had a dinner party lined up for later in the week and she would fill her days with activities. If the thought of Blain and her mother stung her—as it often did since she found their loss much harder to bear as the days went by—then she would put on a brave front and be thankful for beautiful memories.

Curt came home at the weekend and she flung herself into his arms at the airport. There was nothing of the pale, wan grass widow about her, when she shone up at him with clear, dark blue shining eyes. Her senses were drowned in a sudden rush of joy as the tall figure that spelt magic for her strode to meet her.

'What a welcome! ' he exclaimed. Then his mouth was on her eager one, sweet and close.

During those two heavenly days there was no mention of the Staffordly case. Curt had never talked shop with her, and Felicity had no desire to waste a moment of their time together on subjects she would rather forget.

On Saturday evening he took her to a show in London and they had supper afterwards. Coming hack in the car, he said, 'Mother was surprised that I hadn't taken you with me to Paris. I told her it wouldn't be much fun for you, since I would be tied up for the Lord knows how many hours each day, with my work here to contend with too. She did press me to ask you to come back with me, if only for a week or so. '

Had he seconded the invitation, Felicity would have had to have gone back with him; she would not have been able to have helped herself. She was already dreading their parting at the airport the following night. But he said no more and gave his attention to his driving, leaving her painfully conscious of his disturbing presence, his clean-cut look, his air of distinction, his slow quizzical smile that did crazy things to her heart as it sparkled in his eyes before his lips curved.

His return told her only too clearly that this tremendous, incredible feeling she had for him was as strong as ever, and she forced herself to speak because she was afraid of his silence.

'Your mother is a dear, ' she said. 'You must thank her for me, and tell her that Daddy is enjoying my company while you're away. '

Felicity went on to tell him about the dinner party the Colonel had given that week, and mentioned the fact that Judge Greatman had been there and had asked after him. He had also asked jokingly when he was going to be a godfather, but Felicity did not mention this to Curt, although she longed for another child. If there were to be any more children then it would have to be because they both wanted them.

So each weekend came and went like a small oasis in the desert of her loneliness, during which she noticed a subtle change taking place in Curt. Each time he came home he grew more demanding of her, as though he could not bear her to be out of his sight. His kisses were rough, his love-making intense and exhausting. Gone was that gentle approach. It seemed to Felicity in her bewilderment that he was using her body for the outlet of his own tension, built up during the week he was away.

This idea became strengthened in her mind by something David Colston had said one night when she met him at the house of a friend. She had gone there to dinner and a ball afterwards, and after dinner when the dancing had begun David had claimed the first dance. He was the perfect dancing partner, and their steps matched perfectly.

'I've missed you, ' he said, gliding off with her with a rhythm and sense of timing that made him a joy to partner. 'I was in Paris last week. Thought I'd see you there, since your husband seemed to be always about. How come you aren't with him? '

She said lightly, 'He comes home at weekends, so I keep Daddy company mostly during the week. Curt is very busy with his work, and it wouldn't be much fun mooching around all day waiting for him to come home. '

He let this pass. 'I suppose you know the trial comes up soon. He is defending Mrs Staffordly, isn't he? '

'Yes. That's why he's in Paris. '

'He's got a fight on his hands. You probably know that. '

Felicity missed a step. 'No... I didn't. Do you mean... the case will go against Mrs Staffordly? '

'I would say, ' said David firmly, 'that Mrs Staffordly is going to need all the luck in the world not to be convicted. '

Felicity remembered this as the date for the trial of Nora Staffordly drew closer. Curt came home at weekends taut and glittering, as if she was there solely to please him. Felicity, knowing he was going through a difficult phase, bore with his possessiveness and insatiable demands, and in doing so became more dependent upon him than ever. She began to live only for the weekends when he would be with her. He became like a powerful drug which she craved and could not do without. As the week went by she could not think of him without a tempest of longing drowning her appetite and strength of will. As his needs became more primitive, she lived only to give him pleasure—it mattered little to her that he could do as he wished with her. She only knew that he had the magician's touch that could whip her blood aflame.

Each Friday Felicity was there at the airport, holding her breath until Curt's plane came in and he emerged, virile and darkly intense, holding her gaze with a look that made her pulses race. The brown hands encircling her waist were as hard and compelling as his mouth as it closed over hers. Such moments were to be recalled later when he had gone; on her sleepless pillow she was to turn wretchedly in search of sleep, in a vain attempt to forget her bodily hunger for him.

Then one Friday he did not arrive; he sent a telegram to say he had been delayed. The next morning it was in all the newspapers.

Nora Staffordly found not guilty. Brilliant defence counsel saves life of beautiful socialite.

A month went by, during which time Felicity suffered like one bereaved. She waited in vain for Curt to come, longing for the strength of his arms, his kisses and the thud of his heart against her own. She told no one of her misery and fear that she had lost him; perhaps he had never been hers to lose. Pride kept her from writing or telephoning him. Now the hunting season had started again the Colonel was riding to hounds, and filling his days pleasurably; it had made her feel much better to see him take an interest in things again, and she had waved him off gladly when he had gone to spend a week or so with an old friend in Sussex. He had been away a week when Curt came home.

Felicity was in the garden when the sound of his car broke the silence. From her vantage point behind the rose bushes she watched him stride into the house, then calmly put down her flower basket and, dropping her gardening gloves inside it, followed him in. Henri was taking his time going thoughtfully through the hall to the kitchen when she entered. His glance at her was curious, but he smiled and glanced sideways to the staircase. She smiled back and was not sure whether his penetrating eye had seen her sudden withdrawn tenseness.

'Hello, my sweet. The prodigal has returned. '

Curt had strode lightly to the rail at the head of the stairs on not finding her, and was leaning on it smiling down at her. Felicity studied, with senses sharpened by pain, the elegant pose of his lean body as he leaned against the rail. His kinetic magnetism and charm, the air of self-assurance radiating from him, was as disturbing as ever, and it was not until that moment that she realized how her tense anxiety had dulled her emotions. She was perfectly calm.

'Hello, ' she replied, walking gracefully up the stairs towards him, her slender hand gripping the rail in order to steady it. 'Congratulations! So you won the case. Mrs Staffordly will be pleased. '

'Pleased? ' he echoed. 'Come now, that's rather mild coming from you and, come to think of it, so is the welcome. Come here. '

He gripped her shoulders, drew her towards him and kissed her. A firm hard kiss. Her own lips were skilfully casual and he let her go, the few lines time had etched in his forehead deepening as he frowned down at her.

'You look thinner. Have you been eating? '

Eating? Felicity could have laughed had the situation not been so tragic. How could one eat when the ache for human contact made one feel physically sick? He wouldn't understand that. He would never understand a woman's feelings. He slid an arm around her shoulders and placed his finger under her chin. Her heart lurched as he claimed her lips and the sudden pounding of it made her panic and go tense.

But she hid her feelings well. One didn't go through a scene hundreds of times a day like reading from a script without becoming word-perfect.

She drew away from him gently, and even managed to smile up at him.

'How long are you staying? ' she asked evenly as they strolled into their room.

'Eh? Just a minute, I've only just arrived, Mrs Moreau. '

He was studying her with a maddening expression on his face, and his voice vibrated deep down inside her like a gong.

'So you have. On another weekend flight, I presume. '

He darkened beneath his tan and moved as though to take her in his arms. With her blue eyes flashing, her face beautifully flushed, she was lovely and very desirable. But he was not going to let her catechise him. He was his own master and was not going to be dictated to by any woman.

Coolly, he said, 'As a matter of fact, it is. I have to go back to tie up a few loose ends before moving office back to London. Don't look so cross, my sweet. '

He pulled her to him, kissing her with demanding force. But Felicity did not yield an inch. Her legs were becoming weak and her resolve was ebbing away, but if she did not tell him now the matter would drag on and she had already had more than she could bear. And she meant it so sincerely that it was quite an effort to stem the tears. So she told herself fiercely to keep her emotions in check, and met the hard glint in his eyes as he released her, gently but with a firm resolve.

He was puzzled, she could tell, as he asked quietly, 'What's happened? I come home on the crest of a wave because I've won my case and everything is going so well. My sweet, I don't understand. '

'Was that why you haven't been home all these weeks? Is it the reason that you're now on the crest of a wave, as you put it, because Nora Staffordly is free? '

'Naturally. ' His frown deepened. 'Oh, come, my sweet, I know you haven't much time for Nora, but you did want me to win my case and set her free. ' He laughed, turning her round to face him when she would have turned away, and looked down into her passionate face. Slow shock drenched her from head to toe at his admission that his happiness stemmed purely from Nora Staffordly and not from coming home to his wife. Reckless, tearing anger was behind her strength as she thrust him from her.

'How dare you come home to me admitting your... your involvement with that woman! You insult me by ignoring my existence for six weeks, and insult me further by daring to say that I hated Nora Staffordly enough to wish for her conviction. I hate you! I never want to see you again. Go back to your fancy woman—you deserve each other. I don't want you I' she cried angrily, and ran into his adjoining dressing room to slam the door and lock it in his face.

How long she stayed there Felicity was never quite certain. She didn't cry. She was beyond tears as she lay across the divan, her face hidden in her arms. Curt had hammered peremptorily just twice on the door, then everything was silent.

'Felicity, open this door or I shall break it down. Do you hear? ' he had threatened furiously. It had been a threat and no more. Behind the closed door there was complete silence. Dry sobs came from inside the depths of her being, relieving the nervous tension which for weeks had been pushing her closer to an emotional abyss. And gradually she became calm.

Curt was waiting for her in their bedroom when she finally opened the communicating door to stand in the aperture. Uncurling his long length from a chair near the door, he rose to his feet to confront her.

His face was an enigmatic mask through which no gleam came. In desperation, Felicity lifted an appealing look in an effort to get through his defences, to try to convey to him a little of what she had suffered, was still suffering. But there was no softening in him, and there was no escape. She might have been facing him in court.

'I think I'm entitled to an explanation of your conduct, ' he said coldly.

He loomed before her, larger than life, his eyes as hard as steel. She was seeing him again in the splendour of his robes as they accentuated his hard, perfectly built body, the deadly keenness of his eyes and the arrogant look of a man who had carved out a brilliant career for himself without the help of a woman. But he had taken her and made her his, then put her away in a filing cabinet like one of his discarded briefs, to be taken out, looked at and fondled as it pleased him. And like everything else he had set his mind to, he had made her his for all time and spoiled her for any other man. Even now, while she hated his arrogance and cold, peremptory demand, there was something sweet and untouched about her that he had revered on the first night of their marriage and which, she knew, would always respond to him.

Wearily, she said, 'An explanation, if any, surely should come from you—or don't I count in your life any more? '

'I've nothing to explain, ' he replied forcefully. 'I've defended Mrs Staffordly as I always do any other clients, to the best of my ability. It hasn't made the slightest difference to our relationship. I have simply been her defence counsel. '

She quivered and clenched her hands. 'And do your clients always come before your wife? '

Curt drew in his breath raspingly. 'So you're jealous. You've seen my association with Nora Staffordly as some clandestine affair which you wrongly imagine has been going on for years. You're being absurd, maligning a woman whom you know nothing about. She has been unfortunate, that's all. '

Felicity's chin tilted militantly. 'How right you are! I only know that she's been unfortunate for me. First Blain, then.... ' she stopped suddenly and drew a deep breath. 'I beg your pardon. I should have said first you, then Blain, in that order. '

A muscle tightened in his cheek and his eyes glinted dangerously. Holding her breath, Felicity watched him beat back the anger in his eyes until there was nothing there but a sudden weariness, and she ached longingly to smooth the look from his face.

'I can see I'm wasting my time talking to you in this mood. Who's changed you? David Colston? ' he demanded.

'That's right, put the blame on David, ' she cried. 'At least he wouldn't have left me so soon for another woman. '

He waved a contemptuous hand. 'He hasn't got the wit to take a wife, much less leave her for another woman. '

'He proposed to me often enough. I wish now that I'd accepted him, ' she retorted.

There followed a deadly silence and he looked down at her grimly.

'Maybe it isn't too late, ' he said, and turning on his heel, left her.

Felicity went home to Norton Towers that night, packing a suitcase and driving over in her car. She did not see Curt again. The next morning she went back to Cherry Trees for more of her things, telling Henri that he must take his orders now from Curt, as she would not be coming back.

Sandy, her horse, was installed once again in his old stable and he whinnied with delight to be back again among his old friends. Felicity smiled wryly, glad that at least someone was not unhappy about the move.

Anna was dumbstruck. 'You must be barmy to leave that dishy man, ' she said, 'you'll never get another half as exciting. '

'Who wants another? ' Felicity said crossly. 'One is enough for me. You can keep your men. '

And she meant it. Any woman who let herself care too deeply for any man deserved what was coming to her, she told herself in a misery of unhappiness.

'Don't mention Curt's name to me again, Anna. I don't want to hear anything about him, ' she said dully.

And Anna, looking at her aghast, saw something more shattering than grief in the pale, steady composure of her face.

She protested, 'But he's sure -to get in touch with you. What shall I tell him? '

Felicity shook her head wearily. 'Nothing. He won't bother to get in touch. He has his pride, besides... ' She paused, remembering his face when she had confessed her regret at not marrying David Colston. She had not meant that; the words had rushed out in the heat of anger to act as a balm to her pride, a pride that rises up in every woman when her husband turns to another woman. It was better that Anna should not know this, for Felicity knew that Anna's deep regard for her would not hesitate in trying to heal the breach between herself and Curt.

In the weeks that passed Norton Towers was to her a refuge, a place of peace and comfort with the rest of the world shut out. Gradually the numb feeling around her heart melted and she began to take notice, to savour again little pleasures from the familiar things she loved. Cherry Trees had been shut up and Henri had moved back to be with Curt. Curt had made two appointments with her, but she had taken care to be out when he had called.

They had been arranged through Anna, since she herself had refused to answer the telephone. The second time he had come, Felicity had fled into the woods nearby until he had gone. She had heard his car draw up with a wildly beating heart, and his presence had been like a magnet drawing her to the house. Her agonizing need of him struck her to the heart like a mortal blow from a dagger. Her whole being cried out for him; it always would, for theirs was no ordinary love, the bonds that bound them together were like a blood relationship which on her part could never die.

In that hour of agony, while she waited for him to leave, she lay on the sweet-smelling grass beneath the friendly shelter of trees, as still as death and crushed by the overwhelming sense of loss. The shadows had lengthened into evening when, with no more tears to shed, Felicity stumbled back to the house, avoiding Anna as she went to her room.

⇐ Предыдущая 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 101112 Следующая ⇒