The Desert Castle (7 page)

‘
He is old-fashioned,
’
Denise admitted.
‘
He likes you, darling, but he would like you much better when I have your ring safely on my finger.
’

Another potential fiancee, Marion noted. Somehow she felt much less sorry for Denise than she had for the rejected Judith in London.

‘
You wouldn
’
t care for me as a husband,
’
Gregory said easily.
‘
The forbidden fruit has far greater attractions—for us both.
’

Denise was pleased by the idea and looked it.
‘
Hush, you will shock Miss Shirley. I am sure
she
would never chase after a man as I do after you
!
’
She turned to Marion, her eyes as hard as pebbles.
‘
Would you fly hundreds of miles to spend a single hour with Gregory
?
’

‘
Hundreds? No.
’
Marion made a play of considering the matter further.
‘
I might fly from Beirut.
’

‘
To see me, or to see my frescoes
?
’
Gregory asked lazily.

Her laughter surfaced and burst like a bubble between them.
‘
What do you think
?
’

The
corner
s of his mouth kicked up into a wintry smile.
‘
I think I could be tempted to try and change your mind if you look at me
like
that
!
’

Denise
’
s fingers tightened on his arm.
‘
You are not to flirt with the art woman when I am here, Gregory,
’
She admonished him.
‘
It makes me very jealous
!
’

He laughed down at her.
‘
You don
’
t know what the word means,
’
he told her.
‘
That comes of having every man in the Middle East plotting to get his share of your company.
’

Denise pouted.
‘
You make me sound like a
fille de joie,
and I
’
m not! Me, I am very respectable
!
’

‘
Your father sees to that
!
’
he agreed drily.
‘
Come,
we
’
d better join the others and
see what my niece
and your engineer are getting up
to.
’

Even if there had been no frescoes, Marion would
have been
delighted to
see
castle.
The room Gregory had
chosen to make his sitting-room was large with a vaulted roof supported by some pleasing arches, all of them decorated with inscriptions in the Arabic script. Later, Gregory was to tell her that they were later than the walls they decorated and were in the style known as Floriated Kufic, which probably originated in Egypt towards the end of the eighth century. A number of rugs lay higgledy-piggledy on the polished tiles that formed the floor, and some very English easy chairs complete with William Morris patterned covers stood here and there round the room. Marion wondered where they could have come from. Was it possible that he had had them shipped out from England himself?

Lucasta, looking smug and well pleased with herself, preened herself and sat a little closer to the young man who was talking to her, making Sure that his attention remained on her and did not drift away to anyone else—Denise Dain in particular. Marion was amused to notice that Lucasta was sufficiently like her uncle to be quite sure of herself where the opposite sex was concerned. She doubted if it would ever occur to either of than that to some people they might prove to be less than wholly desirable.

She shook the young man
’
s hand without him even looking at her and found out that his name was Gaston Brieve and that he
was
helping to build
a
bridge somewhere in the Lebanon.

‘
I come down here quite a bit with Denise,
’
he proffered shyly.
‘
But I don
’
t have to rely on her transport. I can come down by car in a few hours most weekends, that is, if Mr
.
Randall doesn
’
t mind
?
’

Lucasta fluttered her eyelashes and said her
uncle
would
be
charmed to see
him
any time he chose to
visit
th
em
. Marion
began
to worry that Lucasta wasn
’
t going to prove to
be
quite a handful and she wondered exactly what he duties as chaperon were going to entail. She turned impulsively towards Gregory, only to find
that he was watching
her closely,
his mouth as dis
approving as she had ever seen it. What she had been about to say to him went completely out of her mind.
‘
Can you read those inscriptions
?
’
she asked instead.

‘
No,
’
he answered her.
‘
They are more or less indecipherable, but it doesn
’
t present the problem one would suppose. Koranic inscriptions are not there to be read but to create an awareness of the divine presence.
’

‘
How strange,
’
she murmured.

H
e stood up, his eyes still holding hers.
‘
Would you like to see your room? We
’
ll be having lunch soon and
expect you
’
d like to tidy up first. Lucasta seems to have found her own way around.
’

M
arion rose too.
‘
She
’
s very much at home,
’
she agreed.

G
regory
’
s glance mocked her.
‘
Gaston won
’
t do her any harm,
’
he said.

‘I
hope not. She
’
s very young.
’

‘
And you don
’
t approve of her holding hands with a comparative stranger
?
’
he
finished
for her.
‘
Isn
’
t that a little prudish
?
’

M
arion wished he didn
’
t have the effect of making her feel like a cat whose fur he was
s
troking the wrong way.
He
gave her an agitated feeling that distressed her, and she didn
’
t like him any better because of it.

‘
I feel responsible for her. It
’
s why I
’
m here after all.
’

‘
Partly,
’
he acknowledged. His eyes swept over her and c
a
me back to her face.
‘
Lucasta can look after herself, my dear—probably better than you can.
’

H
e led the way down a long corridor and threw open the door of a room at the far end.
‘
Lucasta is in the other wing with me,
’
he told her.
‘
I thought you might like to get away from us every now and then. Nobody will disturb you here.
’

S
he had to admit it was a very pleasant room. It was simply furnished with an iron bedstead and a plywood cupboard for her clothes, but its walls too had once
been decorated with frescoes, though they had not survived nearly as well as the others she had seen. These were smoke-blackened and had been scribbled on by passing visitors with disastrous results.

‘
Who would have had a fire in here
?
’
she demanded, running her finger-tips over the black soot.

‘
The Bedu. A man and his two wives were in residence here when I came. I moved them into one of the outbuildings and provide them with proper heating and food. In return, the two women take it in turns to cook for me.
’

Marion tried to keep the shock his words had given her to herself.
‘
Do they speak English
?
’
she managed to ask.

‘
The man manages a few words—mostly Glubb Pasha, whom he says he knew well. He claims he got his gun from him and is never to be seen without it. He has a rather bloodthirsty appearance, but he
’
s never shot anyone yet, to my knowledge. If you
’
re afraid of him, stay out of his way, because if he guesses that you
’
re nervous of him his feelings will be hurt. He has a very high opinion of the British.
’

Marion was willing to bet with herself that no one within a hundred miles was as dangerous as the man beside her, and then she caught herself wondering why she thought so and was rather glad that he, couldn
’
t read her thoughts. She went over to the window and found to her surprise that it didn
’
t look out over the desert, but over a small, enclosed garden that was bright with flowers and running water.

‘
I shall need quite a few supplies before I can start cleaning the frescoes,
’
she said, suddenly afraid that he might follow her and box her
i
n against the window.
‘
You should have told me in Amman and I could have given you a list of what
I
’
ll
need.
’

‘
I can
get Denise to fly them down from Beirut.
’

S
he raised an eyebrow, looking down at her hands.

‘
Doesn
’
t
sh
e mind being your messenger boy?
’

He chuckled.
‘
Messenger girl, please! She hasn
’
t raised any objections so far. We understand one another very well, I believe, and she likes to give pleasure—
’

‘
I
’
m sure she does
!
’
Marion agreed warmly.

‘
There are worse ambitions,
’
he said, his eyes very lazy beneath his dark brows. He stretched out a hand and she winced away from him, her skin smarting with nervous anticipation of his touch. He pushed open the window with a malicious little smile and pointed through it to the flame tree that graced the far
corner
of the garden.
‘
What are yours, Miss Shirley?
’

‘
I don
’
t know,
’
she admitted.

He bent his head.
‘
Then why condemn those who do
?
’

She opened her eyes wide.
‘
I don
’
t. Your morals are your own affair
!
’

His eyes glinted.
‘
Remember that, Marion Shirley, and we
’
ll get along very well.
’
He stepped away from her.
‘
Fear and ignorance lie behind most instant condemnations. It makes one wonder what I could have done to frighten you. Perhaps when we know one another better you
’
ll tell me
?
’

Not if she could help it! Marion threw back her head to show him that she didn
’
t care what he said, but she couldn
’
t quite meet his eyes. She supposed it was a kind of cowardice, but she would have done anything at that moment to get rid of him, out of her room as quickly as possible.