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Dark Moonless Night Page 10


  Gareth brushed past her. ‘Then get out of the way,’ he commanded.

  ‘Well, really—’ Elizabeth stared after him indignantly. ‘This is our bungalow, after all.’

  ‘Oh, Elizabeth…’ Caroline shook her head. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Elizabeth looked at her a moment longer and then with an exasperated gesture she turned and went back to her room.

  When Gareth eventually returned, Thomas was with him, his black face unusually grave for once. Gareth handed Caroline a glass containing some amber-coloured liquid and she looked at it in surprise. ‘What—what is it?’ She sniffed the contents. ‘Ugh—it’s whisky!’

  ‘Drink it,’ advised Gareth quietly. ‘This is going to hurt.’

  ‘I don’t need whisky,’ she declared, putting it down on the bedside table.

  Gareth looked as though he was about to argue, but then decided against it. ‘Right, then I suggest you look the other way, hmm?’

  Caroline turned her head aside. Thomas was given the task of holding her wrist firmly, and she closed her eyes, willing herself not to scream.

  It was all over amazingly quickly. The pain was agonising for a few minutes, and she thought she was going to faint, but then the relief that followed was so great that she was able to control her weakness. Gareth wiped away all the pus, sponged it clean with boiled water, and finally applied the salve on a lint dressing. It stung madly, but his hands were firm and cool against her flesh, and so reassuringly competent that she could look at what he was doing without fear.

  Although her wrist was still painful, the sick throbbing had gone, and only a powerful weakness in her system remained. The fever had sapped her strength and an intense weariness was stealing over her body. Gareth secured the bandage and then indicated that Thomas should clear everything away. The black servant nodded obligingly, his smile back in evidence, indicating how delighted he was that Caroline was going to be all right.

  After he left them, Gareth rose abruptly to his feet, and said: ‘I suggest you spend the rest of the day in bed. You look as though you could use some sleep. I don’t suppose you slept much last night.’

  Caroline shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. I—I—I’m very grateful for—for what you’ve done.’

  Gareth raked a hand through his hair which Caroline saw in surprise was soaked with sweat, its lightness artificially darkened. His shirt was sweat-stained, too, dampened around his arms and across his chest where it had touched his skin. She got rather unsteadily to her feet, and put out a hand, touching his upper arm, feeling the muscles tauten beneath the fine cotton.

  ‘Gareth—’ she began huskily, but he stepped back, away from her.

  ‘Don’t touch me, Caroline,’ he said harshly, and her eyes clouded with pain.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, scarcely understanding why. ‘I—I just wanted to thank you.’

  He glanced towards the open doorway. ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘Oh, but there is,’ she insisted. ‘I—I was foolish. I—I suppose it was because—well, I didn’t want to—owe you anything.’

  ‘You don’t.’

  She took a step toward him. ‘But I do.’ She allowed her fingers to trail down his shirt front, tempted to unfasten the buttons and touch his heated flesh. ‘It’s obvious from this—’ She indicated the sweat stains. ‘It’s obvious that you’ve been under quite a strain.’ She paused, looking up at him, noticing the way a nerve was jerking at his jawline. ‘Was it very abhorrent—touching me?’

  ‘I think this has gone far enough, Caroline,’ he muttered, his hands clenched by his sides. ‘You’d better get to bed, and I’ll make sure that Lucas comes to see you the minute he gets back from Luanga.’

  Caroline’s eyes moved over him slowly. ‘And how will you do that?’ she asked provocatively. ‘By speaking to Sandra?’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘Is it true? Are you—attracted to her?’

  She didn’t know what had made her say that. Perhaps the strain she had been under and the sudden relief which had followed had loosened her tongue, but she saw a darkening of angry colour in his cheeks at her words.

  ‘Don’t try me too far, Caroline,’ he said savagely. ‘There are limits to my endurance and right now I’ve almost reached them. I’m glad my efforts on your behalf have proved so beneficial. Unfortunately, that’s as far as my concern stretches. Nor do I intend to satisfy your warped curiosity about my relationship with Sandra, except to tell you that she’s an infinitely warmer person than you’ll ever be!’

  ‘You speak from experience, I suppose,’ she remarked sarcastically, hating him for being able to hurt her so easily still.

  Gareth shrugged. ‘If you choose to think so.’

  ‘Of course. She’s a homely girl, isn’t she? Exactly your type!’ She was not usually a spiteful person, but his words had caught her on the raw.

  He gave her a contemptuous look. ‘Oh, yes, I’ll grant you Sandra’s no fashion-plate. But then she’s no ogre either. She doesn’t have your looks—your flair for clothes. But she has warmth and sincerity, and she doesn’t judge her friends by the size of their bank balance.’

  ‘That’s a filthy thing to say!’ declared Caroline indignantly, and swung her uninjured hand towards his face in a gesture of impulsive anger.

  But he caught her wrist easily enough, preventing her from striking him, holding her off, his grip hard and unyielding. ‘I think not,’ he remarked coldly, and her lips trembled. ‘Such outraged dignity is a little out of place in someone without morals or scruples!’

  ‘You know nothing about my morals, and you’re not so scrupulous yourself!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ His hold tightened painfully.

  ‘I don’t believe you’re as indifferent to me as you like to pretend,’ she cried. ‘The things I’ve said and done wouldn’t mean a thing to you if you really were as insensitive as you’d like to believe.’ Her amber eyes narrowed, the long dark lashes casting shadows on the pale, creamy skin of her cheeks. ‘I wonder what you’d do, Gareth, if I chose to make—demands on you.’

  Gareth pushed her away from him then, so violently that she had to grasp the iron bedpost for support. ‘I shouldn’t advise you to try anything, Caroline,’ he bit out furiously, and before she could make any reply he strode out of the room.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LUCAS MACDONALD put Caroline on a course of injections which necessitated her attending his house every evening for treatment. It was terribly embarrassing for her. She felt that she was being a nuisance, a feeling which was not relieved by Sandra Macdonald’s attitude. She had made it plain that she considered Caroline’s behaviour as little short of criminally careless, and both she and her father had applauded Gareth’s handling of a potentially dangerous situation. Even Elizabeth, when she recovered from being ordered about in her own home, had to admit that she didn’t know what they would have done without his assistance.

  At least the incident had served to put Caroline on her guard, not only with herself but with the children, and she warned them against touching anything, no matter how appealing it might seem.

  Although she had thought that perhaps Gareth might come back to see how his patient was faring she was disappointed, but two days afterwards Nicolas Freeleng turned up. He came in the afternoon while the children were resting and found Caroline and Elizabeth stretched out in the shade at the back of the house reading magazines.

  ‘Good afternoon, ladies!’ he greeted them gallantly, standing surveying them with obvious pleasure. ‘And how is the invalid today?’

  Caroline levered herself into an upright position. ‘If you’re meaning me, I’m not an invalid,’ she answered coolly.

  ‘Oh, but I understand there was quite a panic on a couple of days ago,’ he parried. ‘I’ve been away for a few days, but when I got back and heard what had happened, I had to come and see for myself.’

  Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders impatiently. ‘Caroline was bitten by some mangy animal at the Barclays�
��, that was all. Gareth managed to lance the infected area and prevent blood poisoning.’

  ‘Ah, yes, Gareth,’ Nicolas nodded, looking down at Caroline. ‘How fortunate that he happened along at just the right moment!’

  Elizabeth sniffed. ‘We never did find out why he came, did we, Caroline?’

  Caroline shook her head, frowning, but Nicolas nudged her foot with his. ‘And are you fully recovered now, pussycat?’

  Elizabeth’s brows ascended at this casual form of address, and Caroline couldn’t help looking embarrassed. ‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you,’ she replied.

  ‘But I understand you’re having injections.’

  ‘You seem to know everything,’ she remarked, rather dryly.

  Nicolas smiled, ‘That’s my job, pussycat.’ He went down on his haunches beside the cane chair on which she was lying. ‘I wondered whether you might care to have dinner with me this evening.’

  Caroline looked at Elizabeth, who was looking even more put out. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she refused quietly.

  The corners of Nicolas’s mouth turned down. ‘Why not?’

  Caroline looked at him squarely. ‘I think you know why not.’

  Nicolas held her gaze. ‘I want to talk to you—to explain—’

  Caroline shook her head and looked away from him. ‘Not tonight,’ she insisted firmly.

  Nicolas drew in a deep breath and rose to his feet, his eyes on Elizabeth, inducing her to leave them. She fought the penetration of his silent demands for several minutes, but then she got rather jerkily to her feet.

  ‘I’ll see about some tea,’ she announced shortly, and walked into the bungalow.

  After she had disappeared inside, Nicolas drew the chair she had been using nearer to Caroline and sat in it himself. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘we can talk.’

  ‘I don’t see what we have to talk about.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘No.’ She ran her fingers over her knees. ‘You’re married, Nicolas, and that’s that.’

  ‘Why are you being so unkind to me? Marriage doesn’t necessarily mean happiness, you know.’

  ‘Oh, please—don’t give me that my-wife-doesn’t-understand-me routine! I don’t particularly care what kind of a relationship you have with your wife. The fact that she exists is enough.’

  Nicolas tried to take her hand, but she evaded him and he scowled. ‘What’s the matter? You’re so cold—so aloof! Can you not accept that a man like myself needs female companionship? Just because I’m married it doesn’t mean that I don’t find you disturbingly attractive!’

  Caroline felt angry with him. ‘Well, I’m afraid I don’t get involved with married men.’

  Nicolas shrugged. ‘I assure you, my wife wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘But I would!’ Caroline was astounded. ‘I don’t know how you have the nerve to come here and tell me such a thing! If this is what you meant by explaining—well, I’m sorry, but I don’t accept your explanations.’

  He pressed his balled fist into his palm. ‘But why? Caroline, you’re only here for a few weeks. Why shouldn’t we have a little fun together? Surely a young woman like yourself wouldn’t wish to spend these weeks solely in the company of children!’

  ‘There are other people here,’ she pointed out shortly.

  ‘Who? The Laceys? The Hollands? The Macdonalds? I don’t somehow see you having a great deal of fun with any of them. There’s Jonas, of course, but he’s a little young for you, I think.’

  ‘I have no desire to discuss my social life with you,’ she declared. ‘How I spend my time is my concern and mine only.’

  Nicolas exhaled noisily. ‘Don’t you think your attitude is a little old-fashioned? Why, even Sandra Macdonald sees no harm in her association with Gareth.’

  Caroline’s nerve-ends tingled. ‘But Gareth’s not married,’ she ejaculated.

  Nicolas made a moue. ‘Not now, perhaps. But he was.’

  Caroline felt something screwing her up inside. ‘Well—’ she began, ‘well, Sandra Macdonald’s affairs are no concern of mine.’

  ‘Won’t you at least have dinner with me?’ he pleaded.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Not even if I promise that there’ll be at least half a dozen other people present?’

  Caroline opened her mouth to refuse and then closed it again. ‘I—I don’t know,’ she said, suddenly alert.

  Nicolas was encouraged by her indecision. ‘Please. Say you will. I’ll even invite the Laceys so that you’ll be sure of getting home safely.’

  She had to smile at this, a tremulous, uneasy kind of smile that denoted her extreme state of tension had he been aware of it. ‘When—when are you having this dinner party?’

  ‘Well, as I’m to have so many guests, I’d better make it tomorrow,’ he conceded reluctantly. ‘But you will come, won’t you? Promise?’

  ‘All right,’ she nodded. But all she was thinking was that tomorrow she would see Gareth again. He was bound to be one of the guests, and her spirits lifted even while she despised them for doing so.

  But Gareth did not attend the dinner party.

  It was arranged that David and Miranda should sleep at the Macdonalds’ as a special treat and so save Sandra the necessity of spending the evening alone at the Laceys’ bungalow, and when Caroline took the children along with her when she went for her evening injection she found Gareth lounging lazily on a couch in their living-room. To say she was shocked would have been an understatement, but her reaction was partially concealed by the children’s delight at seeing him again.

  ‘Are you sleeping here, too?’ asked David eagerly, and Caroline bent her head to hide the hot colour that suddenly burned in her cheeks. Why, oh, why had she agreed to go to Nicolas’s dinner party? She didn’t want to go. She had no interest in socialising for its own sake. She had expected to see Gareth. And now he was here…

  Gareth had got to his feet at their entrance and Lucas, who had admitted them, said: ‘Come along, Caroline. Let’s get the unpleasant part of the evening over straight away.’

  Caroline nodded, and without looking again at Gareth she accompanied the doctor through to the small room at the back which he used as a kind of surgery. It was the room in the Laceys’ bungalow which Caroline occupied, but of course the Macdonalds only needed two bedrooms.

  She scarcely felt the injection. She felt numb, and Lucas looked at her a trifle anxiously. ‘Are you feeling all right?’ he asked. ‘You’ve not had any after-effects of the treatment, have you? No pain or paralysis?’

  ‘Oh, no—no!’ Caroline shook her head, forcing a smile. ‘I feel fine, honestly.’

  Lucas was thoughtful. ‘You know, I think the heat’s getting to you at last,’ he said. ‘You do too much, you know. Those children should be with their parents more. I’ve even heard that you do their washing.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Caroline was astonished.

  Lucas smiled, and opening the door he switched off the surgery light. ‘We have a very reliable grapevine,’ he chuckled. ‘Actually, Caroline, it was your houseboy Thomas who told ours. They’re cousins, you see.’

  ‘Oh,’ Caroline nodded, and they walked back along the hall towards the lounge. ‘Well, I must be going. There’s no need to walk me home tonight, Mr. Macdonald. See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t dream of allowing you to walk home alone,’ exclaimed Lucas. ‘Besides, Gareth’s here. Come and have a drink with us first.’

  ‘Oh, really, I—’ she began, but Lucas had re-entered the lounge where Gareth was on his knees helping David to load matchsticks into a toy cannon he had brought with him. As they entered, Gareth stood up and said:

  ‘I’ll walk Caroline home, Lucas. I’d enjoy the exercise.’

  ‘Well, stay and have a drink first,’ exclaimed Lucas. ‘Where’s Sandra?’

  ‘She’s preparing supper,’ replied Gareth, fastening the top buttons of his navy cotton shirt. ‘Do you want her?’

  ‘No, perhaps I
’d better not disturb her,’ murmured Lucas, doubtfully.

  ‘Look, I’ll go,’ said Caroline. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She flicked a glance in Gareth’s direction. ‘There’s no need for you to come. It’s only a few yards.’

  Gareth ignored her, however, and went ahead as she was saying goodbye to the children to open the mesh door for her to precede him outside. Once in the open air, however, Caroline put on speed, and almost ran down the path to the road. Gareth quickened his pace to catch up with her, but then his hand closed round her forearm, slowing her progress considerably. It was the injured arm he held, and she gasped as the sudden tightening of his fingers sent a sliver of pain through her hand.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered impatiently, sensing her withdrawal, but he did not release her. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, but I do want to talk to you, and if you continue to race like this I shan’t have the chance.’

  Caroline was forced to slow down. ‘I’d rather hurry. I have to get ready to go out.’

  ‘Yes. That’s what I want to talk to you about.’ Gareth halted abruptly. ‘You’re going to Nick’s tonight, aren’t you?’

  ‘What if I am?’ She sounded cool, but inside she was a seething mass of burning sensations.

  ‘I thought you would have had more sense!’ he snapped.

  ‘What do you mean?’ She assumed a defiant stance. ‘Everyone needs attention sometimes, and it’s really rather flattering to know that a man like Nicolas finds me so attractive! Why, even you need a woman’s companionship, don’t you, Gareth? What kind of cosy evening do you intend to have, I wonder? And you forgot to answer David’s question, didn’t you? Are you going to sleep there?’

  ‘Why, you insolent little—’ He bit off an epithet. ‘I’d like to—’

  ‘What would you like to do, Gareth?’ she taunted him, as he paused. ‘Do tell me. I’m dying to know!’

  His tension was evident in the hardening pain of his grip on her arm, like a physical presence about them. ‘I’d like to put you over my knee!’ he spoke savagely. ‘Maybe that kind of punishment would teach you some respect. It’s certain that your mother didn’t teach you any, more’s the pity.’