Fire Under Snow (15 page)

“It must be something very important to make you fly out to see him.”

“It is. He's been acting the fool. You may have read about it in the papers – arriving late for performances, turning up drunk out of his mind, gambling excessively. Finally he got himself involved in a fight that ended up with someone almost getting killed. I've sent cables, which he hasn't answered. I've tried to reach him by phone. I'm now going out there to deliver an ultimatum. He can pull himself together or I'm going to sue for breach of contract. That's if I don't give him grounds to sue me first by taking it out of his hide.”

“You sound very angry,” she said in understatement.

“With complete justification. Time and money have been invested in promoting his image – but this can't be of interest to you.” He pushed the last few things into his suitcase, closed the lid and slammed home the locks. “We have so little time before I have to dash for my plane.”

He didn't know about her and Jamie. Her happiness of a moment before was suddenly dashed to pieces.

“Darling –” His arms came strongly round her. “Don't be so desolate. I'll only be gone a few days and then –”

She knew that his mind was desperately divided. He didn't want to leave her. He released her with deep reluctance. He threw off his robe and reached for his shirt, buttoned it up and tucked it into his trousers.

There was a tie on his bed which complemented his shirt and had obviously been left out to wear. She held it out to him.

“Thanks. Pass me my jacket, there's a love. You were trying to tell me something.” He was looking at the bedside clock. “What was it?”

It wasn't something she could gabble out in a few seconds. And in any case, how could she tell him
now
? She owed Jamie nothing; his own actions had killed any loyalty she might have had, but she could not do it to him. It was one thing to tell Noel of Jamie's treachery with the cooling ocean between them to lower the heat of his temper. But Noel was crossing that ocean to see Jamie, and he was murderous minded enough toward him as it was without her adding fire to his fury.

He took her into his arms, and there was pain in his eyes at the enforced parting. His lips moved over her forehead and down her cheek in one long, sliding, blissful kiss that drenched every part of her body in its warmth and blessed her soul.

“Oh ... my lovely Lorraine.” Her name emerged on a husky, wrung-out note, as if he were generating more emotion than he could handle. She willingly, adoringly absorbed it into her own heart, wrapping her arms round his neck in deep, humble, throat-swelling gratitude.

He lusted for her. That hadn't changed. The heat of his desire scorched down her body, and she wouldn't have had it any other way. But now she sensed a subtle difference. Always before she had known that higher feelings didn't enter into it and that he had wanted her solely to sate the demands his body was making. Somehow – how? when? – his heart had become involved. If he wasn't in love with her already, he was moving swiftly in that direction.

“It's hell leaving you. You know that, don't you, precious?” he said thickly.

“I know,” she murmured.

Compulsively, their mouths leaped together again, and were dragged agonizingly apart.

“What was this all-important thing you had to tell me?”

“Did I make it sound all-important?” She shrugged, smiled and said, with no idea of the disastrous consequences she would bring upon herself, “It will keep until you get back.”

While Noel was away, one nice thing happened to create a pleasant diversion. Sir William phoned to invite her out to dinner, and she accepted without giving herself time to wonder about the wisdom of this. Noel hadn't liked Sir William because he was jealous of him. Once he knew he had no cause to be jealous there would be no cause for resentment. It was as simple as that.

The preliminaries of greeting out of the way, Sir William said, “Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you the girl who likes authentic Greek cooking?”

“I'll correct you. You're wrong. It's Aunt Leonora who is mad about moussaka.”

“Pity. I hope that doesn't sound too ungallant; it's just that I know this charming little taverna. Still, no matter. What does set your taste-buds dancing?”

“Sweet and sour. Crispy noodles, giant prawns – oh, and those little pancake rolls.”

“Good. I don't mind Chinese myself. By the way ... how is your charming aunt?”

It was a natural enough enquiry, yet a certain eagerness in his tone alerted her senses to something she had previously been unaware of. Why hadn't she noticed before the slight embarrassment when he spoke her aunt's name, as if he were guilty of self-betrayal? And, now she came to think of it, there was a similar reaction whenever she mentioned Sir William's name to her aunt. Leonora always went girlishly pink and suddenly became absorbed with her hands. Sir William and Aunt Leonora – what a lovely thought. No aunt was loved more, and Sir William would always hold a special place in her heart.

“My aunt is very well,” she replied. “I've recently returned from visiting her.” Casting out a speculative line, wondering what reaction it would get, if any, she said, “It's Aunt Leonora's turn to visit me next time.”

Not only did he go for the bait, he knew he was going for it. He smiled, crinkling up his eyes at the corners, intensifying their blueness and looking boyishly vulnerable despite his abundance of silver hair. “And I thought I was being very subtle. Keeping it all to myself. Perhaps you should tell me what I'm going to say next.”

“Something along the lines of ... ‘when your aunt visits you, give me a ring and I'll book a table for two at that Greek taverna I was telling you about'?”

“Your aunt might not be in favor.”

“Oh, but she will. You have my word for it. Remember, she's mad about moussaka.”

“I hope you're right, young lady, because it seems as though I'm going to find out.”

She beamed in delight, despite feeling like the sprat out to catch the mackerel.

“Come on,” Sir William said with pretend briskness. “All this talk of food is making me hungry. Let's stop talking about it and find it – I've somewhere in mind that I think you will like.”

She did like it, approving the quiet efficiency of the staff and the general aura of the place.

Smiling across the table at her, Sir William told her how nice she looked.

She had been undecided about what to wear, and, after an initial hesitation, she had settled for a dress she had purchased only the day before. It was an ideal opportunity to get the male viewpoint before wearing it for Noel. It had about it an elusive quality – some hidden factor responsible for its appeal which she couldn't define. Its coloring had none of the compelling blatancy of the sun, nor the beguiling brilliance of the sunset. It glowed with a more gentle radiance. She was charmingly unaware that she was that elusive quality; the eye-compelling factor that set off its delicate dawn sweetness was herself.

It was gratifying to know that her appearance found approval in Sir William's eye, but it was no longer the morale booster she had so desperately needed before Noel came into her life. His interest had given back to her the confidence which Jamie had stolen.

“Not only do I like the new dress –” Sir William paused. “It is new, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“What color would you say it was?”

“Peach.”

“That's very appropriate, because you look a peach in it.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said, smiling radiantly with none of the former doubt and diffidence she had shown when receiving a compliment.

That fact had not escaped Sir William's shrewd eye. “As I was saying, not only do I like the new dress, but I also like the new you. Obviously a man's influence. I hope he's as good to you as he is for you. I suppose it's that fellow you introduced me to when we last met.”

She had to laugh at his begrudging tone. He hated it to be Noel who was behind her newfound confidence. “I know you have every right to disapprove of Noel. He went out of his way to antagonize you, but it was only a mood. And, anyway, you wouldn't know him now, he's altered so much. He's kind, considerate and so patient. You wouldn't believe –” She laughed and shook her head in gentle emphasis. “I can hardly believe the difference in him myself. At the risk of sounding immodest, I think I am a good influence on him.”

Still looking skeptical, Sir William said, “And has this reformed character proposed marriage yet?”

“In a manner of speaking. But I'm hoping to get a proper proposal when he gets back.”

“Gets back?”

“From seeing Jamie.”

“Oh, so you've told him about Jamie. I'm so gla –”

“No, I haven't,” she inserted quickly.

“But I thought you said – Forgive me, I'm slightly confused.”

“I believe I mentioned that they had a business connection. Noel's company has got Jamie under contract. Jamie got a very good booking in Las Vegas, where he is now. It seems that he's been acting the fool, attracting the wrong kind of publicity, and Noel's gone to straighten him out. I would have told Noel about us – I was on the point of doing so – but then I thought that Jamie would have enough to explain as it was and it would be kinder to save my piece until later.” He looked at her as though he couldn't believe his own ears. “Are you telling me, girl, that after all Jamie has done to you, you're considering him? You're a fool! You should have told your man everything and let him sort it all out in one go. Might have been a kindness, you know, for Jamie to have got it over in a lump rather than in dribs and drabs.”

“Yes.” She sighed. “That crossed my mind, too.”

“What did happen, Lorraine?”

“You mean ... three years ago? You know what happened.”

“No, I don't. Leonora only told me as much as I needed to know. I'd like to hear your version. Unless you'd find it too painful to talk about?”

She shook her head crisply. “It doesn't bother me now. I'm better inside as well as outside. It was ironic, really, but my life, the life I knew, ended when Jamie's took off. I didn't know him very well when he asked me to marry him.”

“That, my dear,” Sir William interrupted dryly, “was obvious.”

Her smile forgave him the dig. “I thought I was in love with him. I wasn't, of course; I was in love with the idea of being in love. And perhaps I was lonely. My father had recently died and I was looking for someone to fill the gap. Aunt Leonora knew that Jamie wasn't the answer. She tried to warn me, but I wouldn't listen. We planned for a quiet wedding – Jamie had no near relatives, so just Aunt Leonora and a few close friends – and then we were going to Cornwall for our honeymoon. The wedding took place, but the honeymoon had to be cancelled. A big-name star fell ill and Jamie was asked to step in at a moment's notice. This was it; the break every artist holds his breath for. So instead of Cornwall we booked into a hotel just around the corner from where he was appearing. I saw the show, but I didn't hang around afterward. He was advised to keep our marriage secret for the time being, in case it spoiled his chances. This opportunity had been too long awaited for him to take any risks. I returned to our hotel, and Jamie was going to join me later. I was dropping on my feet – with one thing and another it had been quite a day – and so I went to bed.” She paused and gave a long shuddering sigh.

“You don't have to go on,” Sir William said, his keen eyes scrutinizing her expression.

“Don't pander to me. I'm all right. The smell of smoke must have woken me up. I have no way of knowing how long the bed had been smoldering. I think it may well have caught fire as I opened my eyes because I was staring petrified at an orange wall of flames. I got out of bed and somehow found the door and made my way into the corridor – and then I realized that the fire hadn't started by itself. I guessed, and as it turned out my hunch was correct, that Jamie had come back. It seemed probable to assume that he had got into bed with a lighted cigarette, and that that was the cause of the fire. Then it struck me. What if he was still in there?”

“I know the bit that comes next. You fought your way back through the smoke, which was now even denser, and you attempted to beat out the flames and suffered severe burns, mainly to your hands – only to find that Jamie wasn't there.”

“He'd had quite a few drinks after the show. After the tension he must have been going through, that was understandable, I suppose.”

“You are too understanding. A man who can't take drink – shouldn't. I'm sorry, Lorraine. It's difficult enough for you as it is. You can certainly do without my interruptions.”

“According to the forensic report the fire was started by a lighted cigarette. Jamie admitted to lighting a cigarette, but he couldn't remember much else, except wanting to go to the bathroom. The bathroom was along the corridor, and that's where he was. I got burned for nothing. That was the stupidity of it.”

“I knew you were on honeymoon, but I didn't realize it was the first day of your honeymoon. And so you are – ? No – that's a gullible assumption to make in this day, and, in any case, it's none of my business and it's a damned impertinence.”

“You are quite right; I am a virgin. And it's not an impertinence from you. We hadn't made love before, and we were too busy that day. Straight after the ceremony Jamie was plunged into a hurriedly arranged rehearsal for the night's show. When he came back to the hotel –” She made an expressive gesture with her hands. “I've already explained about that. And so the marriage was never consummated. I once looked up the word consummated in a thesaurus. Among its meanings I read the words ‘to crown, to perfect.' In view of Jamie's horror when he came to see me in the hospital, it would have been a crown of thorns. I'm sorry. I'm being melodramatic and I promised myself I wouldn't be.”