Dying For a Cruise (10 page)

Now what, Jenny thought grimly, had he been up to in there?

She frowned, then sighed, and went slowly down the stairs. Just a few more hours, she thought encouragingly. A few more hours and she’d be free and clear. There was no need to be so pessimistic. After all, what could happen in just a few hours? Unfortunately, as Jenny knew only too well from past and bitter experience, an awful lot
could
happen. But that, surely, wasn’t going to happen here? No. She gave a mental head shake and told herself not to worry.

She was beginning to let this paranoia where murder was concerned get the better of her, she thought grimly.

She made her way, with determined optimism, towards the galley via the starboard deck, and glanced in the window to the dining room as she did so.

David Leigh had reappeared, and was tucking into his sausages with every appearance of appetite. Opposite him, Gabriel Olney reached for some more toast.

Well, at least it appeared that
this
meal was going to be consumed, she noted with a satisfied nod. In a much better frame of mind now, the uneasy cook stepped into her domain, and awaited the arrival of the dirty dishes.

Using the block and tackle, Brian O’Keefe hauled the heavier logs he’d chopped up on the riverbank earlier that morning and winched them on board, placing them onto a trolley. It was an old porter’s trolley, exactly like the kind they used in railway stations, with long upward handles and four tiny wheels attached to a low wooden base. He pushed the trolley towards the storeroom, and upended the wood onto the floor. He’d chop them into more manageable logs later. Lucas liked to raise steam the old-fashioned way. The sun was rising, and they’d be setting off soon. He’d have to start hauling in some more coal soon. Then he’d need to wash up, because bloody coal dust got everywhere.

He moved down the small corridor to the starboard deck, and once there, turned towards the rear. He walked to the very end and lifted the lid off a wooden box, where the non-essential equipment was habitually stored. He had, at that point, no idea that he had an audience.

He dropped in the block and tackle and let the lid drop with a small thud. His shirt was already beginning to stick to his back, so he pulled it off, turning to the fresh-water butt stored at a right angle to the trunk. It was about four feet high, a foot or so wide, and was full of blessedly cool water. It was used as a backup, in case the boat ran out of water for domestic use.

Brian scooped a large handful in his cupped hands and sluiced it over his face, shivering happily as he did so. He felt it run over his chest and down his nape, and sighed loudly. He put the lid back on, mindful of how easy it was for water to evaporate in this heat, and turned.

Then stopped dead in his tracks.

The large and oddly attractive cook, and the pretty blonde woman, were sitting on chairs at the other end of the deck, openly watching him. He smiled at them, gave a slight nod, and with a rather wry twist of his lips, headed back down the corridor towards his engine room.

He hoped they’d enjoyed the show.

Now it was time to work up some steam.

Jenny (who had indeed thoroughly enjoyed the show) turned back to her contemplation of the river whilst also reviewing the tempting display of rippling, masculine muscle she’d just seen.

She’d been a little surprised to be joined by Dorothy Leigh, just ten minutes earlier, but she could quite understand why. With her husband off on a lone walk, she hadn’t felt like joining the others on the port deck. With the mouse away, the cat in Gabriel would have been apt to play.

A few minutes later the engines began to throb, so presumably David had returned from his walk. That he seemed to be in no hurry to seek out his wife, however, was soon obvious, for, as the
Swan
began to move out into mid-stream, they remained alone on the deck.

‘Really, I do wish Lucas hadn’t invited Mr Olney along on this trip,’ Dorothy said suddenly, as if she’d uncannily read the cook’s thoughts. ‘He can be so … well …’ She fumbled in vain for the right words. ‘I don’t think he realizes how people can misinterpret his teasing.’ She had eventually settled for something of an understatement, and glanced at her companion awkwardly.

Jenny cast her a quick, thoughtful look. She herself had seen the way Gabriel had openly pursued Dorothy, and was a little surprised by the married woman’s naiveté.

‘I don’t think that he is teasing, is he?’ she said, but very mildly. ‘A man like that, a man who’s so obviously dissatisfied with his marriage, is always on the lookout for a good excuse to break away from it. And what better excuse is there than to find another woman?’

Dorothy stared at her aghast. ‘But I’ve done nothing, I’ve said nothing to make him think that I….’ Her voice spluttered out in an appalled whisper, and Jenny cursed herself for her lack of tact, and quickly shook her head.

‘No, Mrs Leigh, I didn’t mean to suggest that you had,’ she said, gently but firmly. ‘I’m merely pointing out that, to a man like Gabriel Olney, you make a very good target.’

Jenny, in fact, doubted that Gabriel
was
serious in his pursuit of the pretty blonde. Apart from his natural and somewhat loathsome method of flirting, he was probably only trying to push Jasmine to the limit, thus forcing her to seek a divorce.

The very fact that Dorothy was pregnant, not to mention happily married, had probably made Gabriel feel very safe indeed. After all, what man wanted a pregnant woman for a mistress? No, Jenny was mostly convinced that he was just using Dorothy as a convenience.

A quick flirtation, a good excuse to give to a judge in a divorce hearing, and he’d be free of Jasmine once and for all. What would it matter to a man of Gabriel’s unfeeling arrogance if he ruined Dorothy’s marriage in the process? So long as he got what he wanted. Then it would be just himself, and the
Stillwater Swan
.

Jenny felt a ludicrous surge of sympathy for the boat. It was as if she was beginning to think of the elegant white vessel as a living creature!

On the bank, a party of girl guides shouted and pointed in excitement as they caught sight of the steamer. Their group leader impulsively waved, which, of course, immediately set the rest of the gang off. On the bridge, Tobias Lester must have spotted them, for the next instant the melodious, haunting tone of the
Swan
’s steam whistle rent the air, letting off a cloud of steam as it did so.

The girls on the bank became frantic with excitement, jumping up and down, and making Jenny smile.

Beside her, Dorothy Leigh did not smile. In fact, Dorothy Leigh looked very near to tears.

Knowing she could do nothing to help her, Jenny left Dorothy to her thoughts and returned to the galley. Noon was fast approaching, and she wanted to make some chestnut forcemeat to wrap in cold chicken, to go with the salad. Whilst she was at it, she supposed, she could also make some devilled butter and some tomato cream butter. It went so well with the cold meats and garlic bread she had prepared.

On the port deck, an energetic game of some sort was being played, and from time to time the cook could hear the odd shout of triumph or groan of displeasure.

Dorothy, drawn by the same sounds, made her way to the other side of the boat, and immediately spotted her husband sitting in a deckchair and observing the activity with a brooding air.

Lucas and Jasmine were teamed up against himself and Gabriel. It was an odd arrangement and one that made David want to laugh out loud. If only they knew.

Lucas rattled about, sweeping a highly polished round piece of wood along the smooth planking, bringing it to within only inches of the target. It was a sort of curling-cum-bowls game that went so well with life on board a boat. Jasmine applauded his accuracy. ‘Well done, partner,’ she squealed theatrically, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss.

Lucas smiled at her, somewhat bleakly. He was having a hard time of it. He wanted nothing more than to go somewhere and shout and scream.

In fact, he wanted to kill.

The
Swan
was lost. This might be the last time he ever cruised aboard her. And the wife of the man who’d taken her away from him was kissing him, playing her own damned silly little games.

‘Your turn, Leigh,’ Gabriel prompted, from where he was watching at the side of the rails.

David, who from the dark circles under his eyes obviously hadn’t slept well, got up tiredly and with some difficulty from the chair and walked towards his own ‘stone’. As he did so, Gabriel moved over to his spot, taking his place in the chair.

Dorothy, who had been leaning on the back of the chair, quickly straightened and went to take a step away, but before she could move, Gabriel grabbed her wrist.

‘Stay, and keep me company, Dotty. Your husband and I are partners, after all,’ he laughed, and indicated the improvized game under way.

Dorothy swallowed hard. Her throat felt suddenly dry.

‘I don’t think …’ she said, then gasped to a halt as, with deliberate insouciance, Gabriel took her hand, which he was still holding, and raised it to his lips. As well as being old-fashioned, the gesture was also curiously intimate.

She cast an agonized glance at her husband’s back. Luckily, he was too busy concentrating on aiming his stone to look behind him at what was going on. But Gabriel
was
looking at his wife, his eyes glittering with amused animosity.

Jasmine returned the compliment, staring at him with hard, hating eyes.

‘You know, m’dear, you really shouldn’t be so standoffish,’ Gabriel purred as Dorothy snatched her hand away, her furious scowl making Jasmine laugh scornfully. Olney flushed an ugly red.

David, hearing the laugh, turned, saw the direction of Jasmine’s gaze, and looked over his shoulder. He saw Dorothy’s scowl and Gabriel’s sudden smirk, and the wooden ball in his hand twitched as a spasm of uncontrolled rage washed over him. His fingers curled tight around the wooden stone.

And then David looked down at the smooth, hard, wooden ball, as if seeing it properly for the first time, and began to smile.

A few yards away, Gabriel lowered his voice to a husky whisper. ‘You really shouldn’t antagonize clients of your husband’s firm, m’dear,’ he chided her gently, studying Dorothy’s mutinous face with a half-angry, half-amused smile. Really, the woman was such a child. ‘After all, if I were suddenly to withdraw my business from the venerable offices of Pringle, Ford and Soames, they’d be somewhat concerned. And if I should tell them that it was because I wasn’t happy with the performance of one of their juniors….’ He shrugged eloquently.

He knew that baiting Dorothy was rather unsporting, a bit like shooting fish in a barrel, in fact, but he was in a fey kind of mood. Jasmine was wearing on his nerves like a bad-fitting uniform, and he was in just the right frame of mind to curse all women.

Dorothy gasped and went pale. ‘You wouldn’t,’ she said.

The very way she said it, with such an appalled air, made Gabriel feel even more vicious.

‘I just might,’ he said, keeping his voice deliberately light. ‘Why don’t you try being nice to me for a change, hmm?’ he goaded, his eyes on his wife, who was watching them with narrow-lidded alertness. ‘After all, it’s not much to ask, is it?’ he murmured, recapturing her hand, and pressing the back of it to his lips.

Dorothy could feel his moustache, like hairy bristles, on the back of her hand, and shuddered. The touch reminded her of the bristles on a pig’s back.

Jasmine’s eyes became glued to those of her husband. So, he was angling for a divorce, was he? Leaving her out in the cold, with precious little money and no security. She felt a lance of fear hit her. Although wild horses wouldn’t have made her admit it out loud, she knew that she was well past the first flush of her youth. Finding another rich husband, when you were a poor, middle-aged divorcee, would be no picnic.

She had to put a stop to it. And she had to put a stop to this ridiculous boat business as well. Her nails curled into her palms so hard it made her wince.

Gabriel fiddled with Dorothy’s cold fingers. He kept a wary eye on Leigh, but the solicitor seemed to be staring off into the distance in some sort of trance.

‘When a person’s in a much stronger position than you are, my dear little Dotty,’ Gabriel mused, thoroughly enjoying himself now, ‘you really do have to be careful. I mean, what would your husband say if I were to infer that the child you carry might not be his, for example? Now wouldn’t that create a stir? And all because you couldn’t take a compliment or two.’

He twisted his neck to look up at Dorothy, who stood as if turned to stone. ‘Now, it wouldn’t be so hard, would it, to play along a little? To help me play a little game with Jasmine? She’s been rather naughty, you know, and deserves to be taught a lesson.’

But Dorothy was hardly listening. She was thinking how odd and tense David had been lately. But surely he didn’t think…. He
couldn’t
have got it into his silly head that she might have been unfaithful.

Gabriel turned, satisfied that he and the lovely Dorothy now had an understanding, and turned to glance once more at his wife.

His smile was wide as he kissed one of Dorothy’s cold fingertips.

It was at that precise moment that David Leigh turned to look at him. He had his plan now, his precious plan, firmly completed in his mind. And there was nothing to stop him going ahead with it.

Nothing at all.

J
E
NNY GLANCED INTO
the main salon, checking for the arrival of hungry lunch guests. So far, only the Leighs were hovering around, David looking casual in a light, fawn-coloured pair of slacks and a dazzlingly white shirt. His face, however, had a curiously shuttered look – as if he were trying to hide some kind of strong emotion.

He made Jenny feel instantly uneasy, because instead of emanating waves of angst and anger, he seemed to be on some sort of a high. When he glanced at her, and then quickly away again, she thought she caught glimpses of both relief and resolve, in equal measures, flash across his face.

It should have made a nice change from his usual glowering, gloomy countenance, but somehow it didn’t. Instantly, the statuesque cook wondered what he was up to. Or, perhaps to be more precise, she wondered what had occurred to him to put that different look on his face.

In spite of the heat, Jenny felt herself shiver.

Dorothy Leigh looked extremely fetching in a light summer dress, a lovely shade of powder blue. It contrasted wonderfully with her silvery gold hair. Jenny thought how pretty the colour was – the same colour as meadow blue butterflies. It was a rather more soothing exercise, after witnessing the husband’s volte-face, to contemplate the pretty wife. She was so obviously in love with her husband, and had a baby on the way. In many ways, she looked the picture of contentment. But in that moment, Jenny didn’t envy Dorothy Leigh at all.

With a mental shrug, the cook returned to the galley and checked that the bread was just the right temperature, and glanced around, expecting Francis to appear at any minute.

But Francis, most unusually, was a few minutes late, and lunch didn’t begin until nearly a quarter past one. Not that it mattered, but Jenny was already counting off the hours. She’d asked Tobias Lester that morning what time he expected them to dock at Swinford, and was told it would probably be at any time between six and seven o’clock that evening.

So just six more hours to go.

But the cruise wasn’t over until the final evening meal, of course, and for that the cook intended to excel herself. In fact, she was beginning to feel quite cheerful again just thinking about it.

What was said between the guests over lunch Jenny had no idea, nor did she care. It was because of these moody, squabbling people that her little cruise had been quite ruined. Some people could be so damned thoughtless, she fumed crossly, as she added shredded chocolate to her coconut and chocolate trifle.

As soon as lunch was over, and the debris had been cleared, cleaned and put away, Jenny took herself off for a nice leisurely stroll. It felt good to get away from the boat for an hour or so but as much as she enjoyed her ‘me’ time, and watched the antics of a pair of kingfishers with chicks with pleased delight, much later Jenny was going to wish that she had stayed firmly put on the boat.

Or maybe not.

Dorothy felt keyed up and nervous. She paced in the games room, casting anxious glances at her husband every now and then and sighing morosely. But, as is sometimes the way with things, in direct contrast to his spouse David now seemed almost happy. It was as if whatever bogeyman had been pursuing him these last few months had suddenly taken a sabbatical. She was glad of that, of course. David had always been her rock and her anchor, and she felt lost whenever he was upset. In these modern days, Dorothy knew she was considered by many of her friends to be something of a throwback, being content as she was to be simply a wife and, soon now, a mother. It made her sick with worry whenever she contemplated the thought that she might lose him.

David was unaware of his wife’s tender eyes upon him. As he leaned back in his chair, his thumbs lazily twirling in his lap, his eyes slowly wandered over in Gabriel’s direction. It was all set. He had everything planned at last. It had all seemed to fall into place, as if it was meant to be. Never a religious man, or even a particularly superstitious one, he now felt as if there might be something to this fate malarkey after all. It certainly felt as if something or somebody was on his side all at once, lining all the dominoes up in a neat row, just waiting for him to topple the first one. All he needed now was the right opportunity. And surely it would come. With his newfound belief in providence, how could it not?

On the sofa, Jasmine Olney lazed with all the instinctive, sybaritic indolence of a cat. Every now and then she turned a page of her fashion magazine, and cooed or sneered at the pictures revealed.

Tobias Lester looked in tentatively from the French doors that led out onto the port deck and coughed discreetly. ‘The cook’s not back yet, Lucas,’ he said quietly, and glanced at his watch. But he was not angry. In fact, it suited the captain of the
Stillwater Swan
very well to have a slight delay before starting off.

It would give them more time.

Lucas, who was sitting in a big, black leather armchair, staring at nothing in particular, shrugged lethargically at this news, nearly up-tilting the parrot, which squawked indignantly on his shoulder.

‘It won’t make much difference if we wait another hour,’ he said drearily, and Tobias nodded. His thoughts exactly. He scratched the back of his neck, finding the hairs there to be stiff and cold. He was getting too old for this sort of thing. He was beginning to wonder if he should have let Brian talk him into it.

By the drinks cabinet, Gabriel, who was busy pouring himself a whisky and soda, stifled a sneer. Such slipshod timetables would not be permitted once
he
took over.

‘I know,’ Dorothy said quickly, as if she could bear the simmering tensions no longer, and must do something –
anything
– to make things more lively and friendly, a bit more … well …
normal
. ‘Why don’t we hold a darts tournament?’ she asked hopefully.

Lucas glanced at the full-sized dartboard attached to one wall, his blank gaze altering not a whit. Then he looked at Dorothy’s pretty, unhappy face, and silently cursed. He made a valiant effort to rouse himself.

‘Well, we haven’t played yet,’ he agreed, and glanced at Gabriel. ‘Olney?’ he asked curtly.

Gabriel shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘David?’ Lucas glanced at the young solicitor, who shrugged without much enthusiasm but without any undue reluctance either.

‘Suits me.’

‘Tobias, perhaps you’d join us?’ Lucas asked, looking a shade guiltily at the captain. Tobias loved the
Swan
almost as much as himself. And the captain had told him just this morning that Olney had informed both himself and Brian O’Keefe that their services would no longer be required once the papers transferring ownership were signed. So a final afternoon’s get-together could surely do no harm.

Tobias stepped fully – not to mention eagerly – into the games room. Everything was going better than he could have hoped. Nevertheless, the smile he gave seemed rather wooden. He glanced slyly at his watch, then forced the smile on his face into a fully fledged beam. He had to be careful. ‘Sure. I used to be a bit of a player once,’ he laughed and rubbed his hands together. ‘Perhaps we can give the ladies a run for their money.’

Lucas gave him a rather curious look.

‘Oh, count me out,’ Jasmine Olney said at once. ‘I never learned to play.’

Nobody was surprised. Anybody in the room would have bet money that Jasmine Olney wouldn’t know a double top from a dart feather.

‘And I don’t mind just watching,’ Dorothy said firmly, in a show of feminine solidarity, and settled herself onto the nearest chair, arranging her pretty powder-blue skirts around her.

Jasmine yawned mightily and flipped over another page of her magazine. She’d only brought one magazine with her – a French fashion magazine – and she was already thoroughly bored with it. But really, what else was there to do in a dead-end hole like this? she thought savagely. The thought of living here permanently, endlessly cruising through the boring countryside, was enough to send a visible shudder running through her.

‘What about Brian?’ Lucas asked, bringing out the dart sets from the top drawer of a short bureau. ‘That is, if you can get the surly bugger to come out of the engine room.’

‘He’s chopping wood,’ Tobias said quickly. ‘We need it for later on. It’ll take him a while.’

Lucas nodded, then glanced at David. ‘You and me, then, me old china?’

David nodded, more than happy with that arrangement. Tobias cast Gabriel a brief, angry look, and quickly turned away, ostensibly to inspect his darts. The last thing he wanted was Olney for a partner. On the other hand, it was rather ironic, when you thought about it.

And so the game began.

Lucas, to nobody’s surprise, was a rather good darts player, and achieved a double with his first throw.

Jasmine turned another page of her magazine and blinked. There, tucked in the pages, was a single piece of neatly folded white notepaper. It said a lot about Jasmine Olney’s personality that she didn’t gasp, start or so much as cast a quick guilty look around her. Instead she merely ran a finger along the edge of her page in masterly nonchalance, and took a slow look up.

The men were all gathered around the darts board, and little Dorothy-goody-two-shoes was watching her husband with wide, adoring eyes.

Jasmine slowly unfolded the notepaper. It was in a writing she didn’t recognize, written in black ink and with bold upsweeping lines.

B.O’K, Jasmine thought, her lips curling into a whimsical, highly self-satisfied smile. Brian O’Keefe. So, the engineer had been playing little games with her all along, had he? Pretending not to notice whenever she looked his way, giving her those arrogantly knowing little smiles. She had begun to feel a bit put out about the engineer. She wasn’t used to men not reacting to her the way she expected.

Now, though, she almost purred.

Not that she’d allow anything to happen, of course. Not now, and certainly not here, aboard this damned boat. Gabriel might catch them out, and that really wouldn’t do. Giving him any ammunition in the divorce courts – even in these days of so-called fault-free divorces – wouldn’t do her chances of a hefty alimony settlement any good. Especially if the case got assigned to some silly old fart with old-fashioned views.

Jasmine’s eyes narrowed to slits. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

Still, it would be interesting to see what the swarthy engineer had to say for himself. How he handled himself. A few passionate kisses on a slow, Sunday afternoon – no harm in that, surely. A little heavy petting too, if he played his cards right.

Jasmine carefully re-folded the paper and took a surreptitious look around, and was mollified, for once, to find that nobody was paying her the slightest bit of attention.

David Leigh was at the oche now, and still struggling to get his first double to allow him to start accumulating his own score. She turned a page of her magazine, checked her watch – which said nearly ten past two – and smiled.

She was already late. Perhaps he was waiting for her upstairs even now? She gave a pleasurable shiver, then yawned widely and stood up. ‘Well, I’m going to take a little nap in my room,’ she said, her voice dripping ennui.

Her husband barely gave her a look. It was not hard to see why. Gabriel was already forty points down on Lucas. Jasmine could have crowed over her good luck. Her husband was a competitive man in everything he did – even a silly game of darts would keep him riveted until he had won.

Of course, it also meant that if he lost, he’d be impossible to live with for days. Jasmine shrugged, smiled at Dorothy, who asked her if she had a headache or needed some aspirin, shook her head ‘no’ and sauntered away.

Her room was empty, but as she’d walked towards the closed door she could have sworn she’d heard something – some kind of noise coming from inside. Obviously, though, it had been wishful thinking, for the bedroom was deserted. Even the windows had been closed, and not so much as a lace curtain moved in the still air.

But she didn’t really mind her would-be lover’s tardiness. The captain had said he had a lot of wood to chop. He’d probably be all sweaty and callus-palmed when he came.

The thought brought a happy, feline smile to her face. She picked up a chair and set it about a foot from the door, where she was sure to be able to hear anyone coming up the stairs in plenty of time.

Downstairs, Dorothy slowly began to go pale. She leaned back in her chair and breathed deeply, but it didn’t take her husband long to notice her distress.

‘Dotty, are you all right?’ he asked sharply, and quickly came across to take her hand. Behind him, both Lucas and Gabriel looked around curiously.

Dorothy smiled, a shade unconvincingly. ‘I’m feeling a bit … iffy, really,’ she said, a shade embarrassed. ‘I expect it’s morning sickness. Although the doctor didn’t say anything about getting it in the middle of the afternoon!’ She tried to make a weak joke out of it, making Lucas’s heart swell in pride for her pluckiness.

He abruptly put down his darts and walked across. ‘Can I get you anything, love?’ he asked anxiously. ‘You really do look dicky. I can ask Francis if there’s anything in the medicine cabinet for jippy tummies.’

‘I don’t think that she should take any medication that hasn’t been specifically prescribed for her by a doctor, not in her condition,’ David said sharply, and Lucas, to do him justice, looked suitably appalled.

‘What? Oh, right you are. No, of course she mustn’t. You can tell I’m a bachelor boy, can’t yer, born and bred. Got no sense, ’ave I, aye, girl?’ He guffawed and winked at Dorothy, who managed a rather wan smile in return.

‘I think I’d better go upstairs to the … er … bathroom,’ Dorothy said, her eyes assuming a wild, helpless look.