Kelly's Man (6 page)

'Thanks.' For a girl accustomed to the suave compliments of dashing and debonair men, she was strangely breathless.

'Tired?'

She shot him a wary glance and wondered if he was about to launch into one of the verbal attacks she had come to expect from him. In the event, she was ready for him. 'Not at all.' She danced him a smile that was deliberately provocative. And then, as she knew that she had spoken no more than the truth, that she was in fact more exhilarated than she had been in a long while, the smile deepened quite naturally. She did not know that her eyes were wide and luminous in the candlelight, or that her cheeks were velvet and shadowed. She saw only the sudden tightening of his lips, and the little muscle that worked in the long line of his jaw.

Good,' he said curtly. 'Because there's even more to do tomorrow.'

Her smile faded. What a strange man he was! Just when she had imagined he was softening just a little, he became again the disapproving stranger.

His face was a chiselled mask of angular lines and his eyes were bleak. It was clear that the gentleness she had glimpsed in his dealings with Mary was something he would never allow her to experience for herself. An odd pain appeared in her chest, and with it her appetite vanished. Nicholas was still watching her, and she did not want him to see her distress. She dropped her eyes beneath long dark lashes, and played with food that tasted like cardboard all at once.

'Nicky darling!' A husky feminine voice brought Kelly's head swiftly up. A girl stood by their table. One hand rested on Nicholas's shoulder in a touch that was both possessive and intimate. But though it was Nicholas she addressed, her eyes were on Kelly. 'Forgotten our date, darling?' Well- manicured fingers stroked the fabric of his jacket.

'We'll have a drink together after dinner.' His tone was matter-of-fact, yet friendly. 'I've been rather busy, Serena.'

'Poor darling. Don't I know!' Another glance at Kelly. 'As if you don't have enough to do at the plantation. Now with this accident of George's you really are overworked.'

'George would do the same for me.' Was there a hint of impatience in Nicholas's voice? 'Sit down, Serena. You're just in time for dessert.'

Serena pushed a chair a little closer to Nicholas and sat down gracefully. Her hair was very dark and coiled in a chignon which revealed high-boned cheeks and finely-sculptured features. Her eyes were big and dark, and her lips were full. The clinging silk jersey dress revealed a figure that was voluptuously curved in all the right places. She was beautiful, Kelly thought, and understood why Serena de Jager had an advantage over the many other women who evidently thought Nicholas van Mijden attractive. Yet the other woman's beauty was one which she herself did not find appealing, perhaps because the eyes had a coldness and the lips, when they were not smiling, had a sulky pout. Involuntarily she wondered whether her dislike owed something to the fact that Serena had a claim on Nicholas, that from the endearments she used it was apparent that their marriage was just a matter of time. No! Angrily she dismissed the thought. For that would indicate jealousy on her part, and the idea of being in any way jealous of a man she detested was absurd in the extreme.

'Pear Hélène? Serena was eyeing Kelly's plate with a shudder. 'Not for me, Nicholas darling. You know I put my figure before junk-food.' She put a hand on one of his. 'Tell me about George, darling.'

'There's not much to tell. They hope to operate tomorrow.'

'Well, I hope he gets over the op quickly. You can't run the farm and the plantation as well as Great Peaks Lodge.'

Kelly drew a swift breath of surprise at Serena's callousness. She wondered if Nicholas's reaction to the remark was similar to her own. When she glanced at him she saw his eyes were hooded and unreadable. Then her attention was jerked back to Serena as that girl said deliberately, 'In this case the inconvenience is so unnecessary. There was no reason for George to get hurt, was there?'

So they had discussed her together! Serena's implication could not have been clearer if she had put it into actual words. You, Kelly Stanwick, were the cause of George's accident. It did not matter that the implication was no more than the truth. In private Kelly still agonised over the part she had played in what had happened. She knew that her action was one she would not forget.

But now a new emotion stirred inside her. If she could not pretend that she was indifferent to Nicholas's contempt, she could nonetheless understand it, had resolved to endure it for as long as she had to. But the fact that he had criticised her to this beautiful girl with the cold eyes and the hostile voice was not to be borne.

Her instinct was to shove the plate away from her and leave the table. But that would give the other girl a satisfaction she did not deserve. Not for nothing had Kelly spent so much time at banquets and cocktail parties. As her father's emissary these were functions she had had to attend. She had rarely enjoyed them, but they had at least taught her how to present a surface veneer of politeness and composure.

Now she forced herself to smile at Serena, a dazzling smile of unconcern intended to show that the barb had not succeeded in meeting its mark. Ignoring the veiled accusation, Kelly said instead, 'The Pear Helene is superb. You don't know what you're missing.'

The pouted lips parted incredulously. Serena understood that she had been put in her place. But as Kelly forced herself to finish her dessert, she felt no satisfaction. Artifice was something she had resorted to so easily only because she had seen it so often. It was not a natural part of her personality. Even the momentary lift at the corners of Nicholas's lips did not raise her spirits. The exhilaration which had been with her when she had sat down to dinner had vanished. She felt sickened and a little drained.

She finished eating and waited for the waiter to take her plate, then she stood up. 'Will you excuse me?' she said politely. 'I too have a date.'

Andrew Lang was alone at a table on the verandah. He stood up smiling when he saw her approach. 'I was hoping you'd come,' he smiled.

He drew a chair for her, waited while she sat down, and then took the chair beside her. His natural good manners warmed her. Gary could be attentive and charming when he chose to be. Nicholas showed her only contempt. It seemed a long time since any man, especially one as pleasant as Andrew, had treated her like a woman.

A waiter took their orders: a sherry for Kelly, a gin and tonic for Andrew. It was refreshing on the verandah. During the day it had been hot, but now it was just cool enough to be pleasant.

Talk and laughter filled the air. Children played on the dark lawns, and on the verandah each table was occupied. Kelly saw that the engineers who had arrived earlier in the day were enjoying the holiday atmosphere which was a respite before the start of the convention.

'Your fiancé doesn't mind you being here alone?' Andrew asked.

Kelly looked down at her ring. Strangely the question was more difficult to answer than it should be. 'I don't suppose he likes it,' she said slowly. 'But he doesn't object?'

Kelly caught a note in Andrew's tone which indicated more than casual interest. She chose not to answer the question directly. 'Gary didn't have much choice really,' she said lightly. 'I'd decided to come back to the hotel, and that's all there was to it.'

'Strong-minded female!'

Andrew's smile was friendly, but it was evident that he would not press her. She could easily have left the matter at that. Yet, strangely, she was driven to defend her fiance. 'Gary couldn't have come with me. He had to be in Durban today.' She wondered if the excuse sounded as lame to Andrew as it did to her. She changed the subject. 'Tell me about yourself. About the convention.'

He was a civil engineer, he told her. He built roads and bridges. The convention at Great Peaks was one he had been looking forward to for some time, it would deal with innovations and improvements in his field. Almost in passing he mentioned that he had never married. Till now his career had taken him to the lonely places of the world, places where he had not felt it fair to take a wife. Now, however, he had a consulting position in Cape Town, and finally he felt the need to settle down.

He spoke casually, but his manner was clear. If Kelly was not engaged, or if she regarded the engagement as something which could be broken, he would be interested. She did not take him up on it, and knew that this did not offend him. He was nice, she thought, very nice. It was a long time since she had felt quite so relaxed with any man. With Gary there was always excitement, laughter and fun. With Nicholas there was tension. There was also the knowledge, much as she tried not to think of it, that his touch could provoke sensations that left her weak. With Andrew there was a feeling of peace and serenity.

She felt a small pang of envy for the girl whom Andrew would eventually marry; that girl would have a life of harmonious happiness, a husband who would love her and look after her.

She looked down at her ring and wondered how she would behave now if she were not already engaged. Would she meet Andrew half-way? Would she let him know that she was interested? She had always thought that romantic love was an essential part of marriage. Love was what bound her to Gary. Now, as she looked at the sensitive face of the engineer, she realised that with a man like Andrew a kind of love could grow on its own.

And then, quite unbidden, an image came into her mind, a lean mocking face with stern rugged features and dark intelligent eyes. For a moment it was that image which took precedence over the flesh-and-blood man sitting next to her. Dimly she was aware that Andrew was speaking, but she did not hear what he said. Only gradually did his features come into focus once more. She smiled at him, but inwardly she was shaking.

Not far away a laugh rang out, husky and amused, and Kelly froze. She recognised that voice—Serena de Jager.

They were sitting at a table for two not far away. Absorbed in her thoughts, Kelly had not seen them come on to the verandah. She wondered now how long they had been there. As before, Serena was sitting very close to Nicholas. She was talking, her features vivacious, her gestures animated. Nicholas was smiling as he listened. They were too far away for Kelly to hear what the other woman said, but it was evident that she was both amusing and witty. Once Nicholas laughed. They could have been quite alone on the verandah, so totally absorbed were they in each other. And for the third time that day Kelly felt the inexplicable twist of pain in her chest.

She had been enjoying sitting in the cool fragrant air with Andrew. Now, all at once, her body tautened and she was no longer relaxed. She wondered if Nicholas had seen her. She knew that even if he had, she had long since ceased to be a part of his conscious awareness. For him there was only Serena.

Determinedly Kelly turned her eyes back to Andrew. Their talk turned to other topics—books, music, painting. Kelly found that there was much they had in common. The conversation flowed easily, one observation giving rise, quite naturally, to the next. Normally she would have enjoyed herself. But the charm seemed to have gone from the evening, and try as she would she could not recapture it.

The verandah began to empty. If the mountain air was invigorating, it was also sleep-inducing. The guests began to go to their rooms. For some the next day would be spent walking. For others there would be the talk-filled hours of the convention. When Kelly said she was tired Andrew said he would turn in too. His rondavel was in the circle at the back of the building. Her cottage was at the other end of the garden. He offered to walk with her, but smilingly she declined the offer.

They walked together to the edge of the verandah. At the bottom of the stone steps they paused to say goodnight. Unexpectedly Andrew leaned towards her and kissed her lightly on the lips. 'Sleep well, Kelly,' he said.

K
ELLY
did not go directly to the cottage. Though she had not wanted to sit any longer on the verandah, she was not as tired as she had said.

Slowly she walked through the garden, and gradually she felt herself relax. For the past half hour she had been smiling, a smile that might have seemed natural to Andrew who hardly knew her, but which was beginning to strain the muscles of her cheeks. At last she could allow her face to rest.

The tension began to drain from her body. It was cooler in the garden than it had been on the verandah, but she did not feel cold. The air was fragrant with the mingled scents of the shrubs—the muskiness of the jasmine, the spiciness of the aloes, the sweetness of the lovely frangipani. The mountains were tall dark shapes against the star-studded sky, and the air rang with the song of a million crickets.

How different all this was from last night! Then the mountains had crowded in on both sides, and the sky had been no more than a thin sliver between them. Last night too there had been tension, but a tension of a different kind. For on the ledge far below the cliff path George had lain unconscious, and there had been the constant fear that he would wake and fall before the rescue party found them.

And then the rescue party had come. It was almost twenty-four hours since Kelly had begun the walk down the mountain with Gary and Alex and Sheila, following the stretcher back to the hotel. Twenty-four hours. It seemed so very .much longer. For so much had happened since them.

Beneath a tree was a bench, and Kelly sat down. During the day there would be a beautiful view from here, across the garden to the bubbling trout stream and the mountains beyond. Now she could see nothing of all this. But she had no desire to go to the cottage yet. In the bedroom which belonged to Mary and George she would feel an intruder, strange and alone. Here, in the cool fragrant air, with the sound of the stream and the crickets, she could relive all that had happened.

She thought of George, and of the accident. All her life her father's money had been a constant factor, something which Kelly had no need to think about often, but which was always there. It represented purchasing power. It was also a means of opening certain doors. Though she had never thought of it consciously until this moment, she realised now that money had been the Open Sesame to anything she had ever wanted—even people, for there had always been men who showered her with their attention, women who wanted her friendship for reasons of their own.