The Desert Castle (4 page)

‘
Where does your brother live now
?
’
Marion asked, horribly aware of the giggle that was building up inside her.

‘
In Jordan. He
’
s borrowed a ruined castle which leaks like a sieve whenever it rains, which at this time of year is all the time, and employs a couple of Tannin servants who sound as though they
’
re completely undisciplined.
’
She shivered fastidiously.
‘
It
’
s strictly not my scene, but I dare say you
’
re accustomed to a little discomfort, Miss Shirley, and will manage very well. My brother is paying your fare himself, but my husband wishes to ensure that you have adequate pocket money to keep pace with Lucasta. He thought about twenty pounds a week in cash, of course. My brother will meet you at Amman—he
’
s flying out tomorrow, unless Judith changes his mind for him tonight. You will leave on Sunday.
’

‘
I
’
m not sure—
’
Marion began.

Mrs.
Hartley cut her off with a flourish.
‘
I forgot. Your mother! Didn
’
t she tell you that my brother called on her? He knew your father, or something. Anyway, your mother is going down to his house in Devon and she
’
s going to work for
him
a few weeks, putt
ing
all his papers in order. Apparently she
’
s accustomed to that kind of work. My brother seemed to think she could do with the money.
’

M
arion stiffened.
‘
My mother and I
manage
very
well—
’

‘
I
’
m sure you do, but it would be unkind to upset all her arrangements now, wouldn
’
t it? You leave from Heathrow Airport, Miss Shirley. Lucasta will expect to find you there at the Pan-Am desk shortly after ei
ght
o
’
clock. Oh, and you
’
ll need a visa. You
’
d better give your passport to Parsons when he runs you home and
he
can see to it for you. There, I think that
’
s all. I can
’
t think why my husband thinks women are no good at business. Look how quickly we arranged all that
!
’

“
We” was an exaggeration, Marion felt. The amusement inside her surfaced as a quick smile.
‘
Who is your brother,
Mrs.
Hartley
?
’
she asked in a shaken voice.

‘
But I thought I told you,
’
Mrs.
Hartley reproached her.
‘
My brother is Gregory Randall. The writer, you know
?
’

CHAPTER
II

‘
Mother, how could you
?
’

‘
Oh dear,
’
said
Mrs.
Shirley,
‘
I had a feeling you were going to be angry, but he was so persuasive and it will be lovely to have something to do again. I
’
ve felt so old and useless these last few weeks. There
’
s absolutely nothing here I have to do
!
Gregory wants me to do for him what I used to do for Henry: put all his papers in order and re-type those pages that need it, and put a bit of polish on his house which has been s
h
ut up for years—
‘

‘
He
’
s getting married.
’
Marion sniffed.
‘
And since when has it been Gregory
?
’

‘
Since I first saw him. He never knew his own mother and I would rather like to have had a
s
on as well as a daughter, so we agreed to adopt one another as honorary relations. I could hardly call him Mr
.
Randall after that
!
’

Marion
’
s eyes kindled.
‘
And what does he call you? Mother
?
’

‘
Not that it
’
s any of your business, but I asked him to call me Helen. He always wrote to your father as Henry and it seemed the best solution.
’

Marion choked.
‘
None of my business
!
’
she exclaimed.
‘
I like that! You can
’
t foist an honorary brother on to me and then tell me it
’
s none of my business! It isn
’
t—it isn
’
t decent
!
’

Mrs.
Shirley looked wise and very knowing.
‘
What a curious word to choose,
’
she said mildly.
‘
And it has absolutely nothing to do with you. It
’
s my relationship, and I
’
m very pleased with it. If you want to be related to him too, you
’
ll have
to make
your own
arrangement
with him—
’

‘
Mother
!
’

M
rs.
Shirley laughed, delighted.
‘
I
’
d forgotten for the
moment how easy it is to shock the young, or perhaps
I
thought you older than you really are. I thought you told me he
’
s about to get married
?
’

M
arion nodded.
‘
To a girl called Judith.
’

‘
Well, is that anything to look gloomy about?
’

‘
Of course not,
’
Marion denied. But she hadn
’
t liked the sound of Judith and she thought it would be a pity if she succeeded in putting a collar and lead on Gregory Randall and turned him out of his ruined castle in the desert
.
‘
If
I
’
m
gloomy about anything, it
’
s the discovery that my mother can be downright
sly.
Father always said you couldn
’
t keep a secret no matter how hard you t
ri
ed, and now look at you! Meeting strange men behind my ba
ck
—
’

‘
Henry would have known.
’
Mrs.
Shirley saw the hurt in Ma
ri
on
’
s eyes and smiled at her.
‘
Don
’
t mind, darling. You
’
re my daughter, not my husband, and you can
’
t wrap me up in the cotton-wool of your protection for the rest of my life. You have your own life to live and
I
’
m the first to be glad whatever you want to do. Won
’
t you be glad that Gregory has made it possible for me to have a niche of my own too? I like that young man so much. He doesn
’
t waste time wondering what the fuss is all about He
’
s like Henry in that. Henry too, would have
done
something about his friend
’
s widow, and he, too, would have probably have forgotten to say a single word about how sorry he was
.
’

‘
And you don
’
t mind my going to Jordan
?
’
Marion pressed her
.

H
er mother gave her a surprised smile.
‘
Why should I? I know you
’
ll be quite all right with Gregory to look
after you.
’
The smile
tu
rn
ed into a flash of laughter.
‘
He
’
ll find some work for you to do too
!
’

‘
I am going,
’
Marion said with dignity,
‘
to look after Lucasta.
Nobody
has to look after me
!
’

‘
No, dear,
’
her mother teased.
‘
Perhaps you
’
ll be able to impress Gregory with your twenty-four years more than you do me.
He
didn
’
t know you when you were
only two, or when you were only two minutes old.
’

I
t wasn
’
t an argument that Marion was likely to win, so she stuck out her tongue at her mother and went off by herself to start her packing.

L
ucasta accepted the five-hour flight as a boring necessity. She reminded Marion to put her watch on a couple of hours in lofty tones and then disappeared behind one of the Sunday papers that the red-clad hostess handed round amongst the passengers. Marion tried to do likewise, but she found her attention wandered, back to the safety checks they had come through to get on the plane at all, and forward to what awaited her on their a
rri
val at Amman when she would come face to face with Gregory Randall once again.

I
t was hard to tell the nationality of their fellow
-
passengers. Some of the women in saris were
plainly
Indian, or Pakistanis on their way to
Karachi and
presumably, the men who were with them were their husbands. Of the others, some were plainly too dark to be British, but others confused her by being quite as fair as herself, though possibly more sunburned, yet they spoke Arabic with a fluency that she thought could only mean they were Jordanians.

T
he five hours went more quickly than she would have believed possible. Lucasta emerged from behind her newspaper to eat the excellent lunch that was served to them and rather grudgingly admitted
that
travelling by air did save a tremendous amount of time and trouble.

‘
That
’
s the trouble. It
’
s never one
’
s own pollution one bothers about, but other people
’
s. If I do it, it
’
s quite all right,
’
she added, the cares of the world resting heavily on her shoulders.

‘
I expect this flight would have gone ahead without us,
’
Marion observed.
‘
I shouldn
’
t feel too badly about it, if I were you.
’

‘
That
’
s what everyone says,
’
Lucasta retorted, and went back to her newspaper.

I
t was half-past five, local time, when they came in to land and the sun was still shining, wa
rm
ing the atmosphere and adding its welcome before disappearing for the night. Lucasta, with an excitement that she couldn
’
t quite hide, gathered up all the hand luggage and pushed Marion out of the plane ahead of her with a surprising efficiency.

‘
Gregory doesn
’
t like it if one
’
s last off,
’
she said by way of explanation.
‘
He hates hanging about for anyone.
’

‘
But we still have to wait for our suitcases to come off,
’
Marion protested after receiving a particularly sharp jab in the back.

‘
He
’
ll see to that. All we have to do is get our passports checked and show our visas to the police.
’

M
arion found she was quite right. Gregory was waiting for them just inside the airport and a handsome tip found a porter who claimed their luggage and argued with the customs official for them just as if it were his own. It was all much easier than Marion had imagined. What was not easy was gathering herself together to greet the man himself once he had emerged from Lucasta
’
s enthusiastic embrace.

‘
Hullo there, Miss Shirley,
’
his deep voice claimed her attention.
‘
Aren
’
t you going to show any pleasure in your arrival like Lucasta here? I think you can do better than that!
’
He ignored Marion
’
s outstretched hand and swept her up into his arms, kissing her as warmly as he had his niece.
‘
Ahlan wa sahtan
!
Welcome to Jordan!
’
he laughed at her.

‘
Ah
lan bekum
!
’
Lucasta roared back at him.

F
lustered, Marion stood back from them both, her
eyes wide with indignation.
‘
I don
’
t think we
’
re on these kind of terms—
’
she began angrily.

G
regory Randall put out a hand and pushed her hair back out of her face the better to see her furious expression.

‘
No? Didn
’
t your mother tell you we have adopted one another? We can hardly go on pretending to be strangers after that, can we
?
’

V
ery easily, Marion mentally assured him. She raised her chin and glared at him, bitterly aware that her lack of inches made it all the easier for
him
to dismiss her protest.
’

‘
That is between my mother and you,
’
she said in frozen tones.

‘
Miss Shirley, he was only being friendly,
’
Lucasta put in, her eyes as mocking as her uncle
’
s.

‘
Strangers don
’
t kiss one another,
’
Marion said primly.

G
regory Randall threw back his head and laughed.

‘
You
’
re far too pretty to believe any such thing,
’
he chided her.
‘
Come on, Marion, forget it! Your objection to my taking liberties has been duly noted and I
’
ll do my best to comply.
’

‘
T
hen you can start by not calling me Marion
!
’
she flashed back at him, and was immediately sorry that she should have sounded so petty.
‘
Oh, call me what you like, but I
’
d be glad if you
’
d remember that my mother makes her friends and I make mine
!
’

G
regory gave her cheek a warning tap.
‘
Your mother would be ashamed of you,
’
he told her.
‘
I fancy you
’
re more like your father, Marion Shirley. He was apt to make mountains out of molehills too. I expect you
’
re tired after the flight or you wouldn
’
t be making such a fuss about nothing.
’
He smiled slowly.
‘
It
’
s all right, I
’
m not expecting an apology—
’

‘
I
’
ve got nothing to apologise for
!
’
Marion declared, stung.
‘
It was you who kissed me, if you remember
!
’

H
is eyes travelled over her face in open amusement.
‘
Since you mention it, I don
’
t remember it quite like that,
’
he told her. He took a long, last look at her mouth and then turned away, obviously dismissing her from his mind. He barked out a command in Arabic to the porter and followed him out of the building to oversee the luggage being put in the back of the car, leaving the two girls to follow in their own time.

‘
You
’
ll never get the better of Gregory,
’
Lucasta said in a loud stage whisper.
‘
Not even Mother gets the last word with him
!
’

M
arion set her mouth in a firm line and forbore to answer. She preferred not to
think
of that moment of delicious panic when he had lifted her high against him and had kissed her with firm, warm lips that had set her blood on fire and had deprived her of breath. It was outrageous that he should sweep her off her feet
—Sweep her off her feet
? He had done nothing of the kind. Oh, literally, he might have lifted her clear of the floor, but she refused to admit that her heart was only now settling down to a normal rhythm, or that he had had any lasting effect in undermining her hard-won naturalness of manner in his presence. He was flattering himself if he thought his kiss had been anything more than a temporary annoyance to her.

H
e put the two girls in the back of the car, getting in himself beside the driver. Marion was surprised to see that it was already dark except for a rim of red over the untidy, dusty desert capital of the Hashemite Kingdom. She stared out of the window taking in as much of the scene as possible while the light lasted and they had been moving for some time when she realised that Gregory had turned in his seat and was studying her as hard as she was the scenery.

‘
Do you
—
do you live far from here?
’
she asked him politely.

‘
Too far to go tonight. I
’
ve booked rooms for us at an hotel for the night. It would be a pity to miss your first sight of the desert by driving through it in the dark.
’

‘
Then you really do live in a castle?
’

H
e raised his eyebrows.
‘
Did you doubt it?
’

A
note of excitement entered her voice.
‘
A Crusader castle
?
’

‘
No, but I expect you
’
ll see one or two of those too while you
’
re here. Mine is more like a hunting lodge. It
’
s not really a castle at all. It dates back to the eighth century A.D., when the Umayyad Caliphs had their capital in Damascus. They liked the luxury and comfort of city dwelling, but every now and then they remembered they were Bedu straight from Hijaz, Mecca and Medina, and they
’
d retreat for a while back into the desert, and fly their birds and race their horses. Some of them are famous enough to be a tourist attraction, but mine is a small one, away from the beaten track, and the Jordanian Government allows me to live there for the moment, provided I do what I can to restore it to its former glory. I think you
’
ll like it,
’
he added with a faint smile.

‘
If it doesn
’
t rain,
’
Lucasta put in.
‘
Mother says it leaks like a sieve. Does it
?
’

G
regory turned his head.
‘
I never argue with your mother,
’
he answered.

‘
Why not
?
’
Lucasta asked.
‘
She isn
’
t always right.
’

‘
Hardly ever,
’
he agreed in steely tones.

L
ucasta caught her lower lip betwe
e
n her teeth, looking very young and vulnerable.
‘
I
’
m sorry you had to have me again,
’
she blurted out,
‘
but Marion and I will do our best to stay out of your way.
’