No Gentle Possession Read online

‘Why not?’

  ‘Oh, you know why not!’ she exclaimed. Then with trembling fingers she extracted her lipstick and eyeshadow from her handbag. ‘Look, will you get out of here while I put on some make-up? I can’t go to meet your father looking like this.’

  Alexis folded his arms. ‘You look all right to me.’

  Karen shook her head and ignored him, leaning near to the dressing-table mirror to apply the eyeshadow to her lids. To her annoyance he remained where he was, watching her, and she had to force her hands not to shake as she applied the lipstick. Then she brushed her hair vigorously, allowing it to fall thickly and smoothly about her shoulders. She had not changed from the corded pants and balloon-sleeved red blouse she had worn to travel in, but at least she felt fresh again.

  ‘I – I’m ready,’ she said at last, and he stood aside to allow her to precede him out of the door.

  It was just after three-thirty as he leant past her to push open the door of his father’s study and then stood back to allow her to go first.

  The impressive leather-tooled walls of the room were a fleeting impression as Karen met the penetrating brown eyes of Alexis’s father. He rose, big and dominating, from behind his desk as they entered, and something inside her shrank from the piercing quality of those eyes. But to her surprise, the expression in their depths was not at all intimidating, and Howard came towards her smilingly, holding out his hand.

  ‘Well, well,’ he said tolerantly, looking beyond her for a moment to his son. ‘So you’re Dan Sinclair’s daughter!’

  Karen glanced round quickly at Alexis and then nodded, allowing Howard to take her hand, engulfing it in one of his. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘How do you do, Mr. Whitney?’

  Howard chuckled. ‘My word,’ he said, in that same tolerant manner, ‘I’m proud of you, lass, I really am.’

  Karen was perplexed. She didn’t know how to reply to him and Alexis came forward then, putting a casual arm across her shoulders in a familiar gesture.

  ‘What my father means is that he never believed I’d ever settle down to matrimony,’ he said. ‘In his eyes, you’ve achieved the impossible.’

  From his lazy, relaxed manner Karen could almost believe that this was really happening, that Alexis had actually asked her to marry him, that his father was really congratulating her for having accomplished something remarkable. She had to force herself to remember that this was just a charade to him, being played for the benefit of his stepmother. But that still left the question of her father. What if Howard Whitney took it into his head to telephone him about it? Her stomach seemed suddenly filled with butterflies.

  ‘Never mind about that,’ Howard was saying now, letting go of her hand with reluctance. ‘Karen, isn’t it? Well, let me say straight away how happy I am that Alex has decided to settle down at last, and that he’s shown sense in choosing a wife. Never did care for these flibbertygibbet socialites he’s been running around with these past few years! A Yorkshire lass I chose, and dammit, he’s chosen one, too. I’m delighted!’

  Karen was overwhelmed. She had expected coldness and recriminations, hostility barely disguised behind civility, but not this warmth and enthusiasm, this feeling of genuine pleasure.

  ‘I – it’s very kind of you,’ she began, and then looked helplessly at Alexis.

  ‘I’ve explained that you haven’t told your father yet,’ he remarked, his eyes holding hers. ‘It’s all been so sudden we haven’t had much time to ourselves yet, have we?’

  ‘Oh! Oh, no. That’s right.’ Karen swallowed convulsively. ‘We – we thought we’d keep it a secret a little bit longer.’

  ‘Well, I don’t see why,’ exclaimed Howard, shaking his head. ‘By God, I’d like to announce it at the party this evening!’

  ‘But you won’t,’ said Alexis, very definitely, and Howard acquiesced.

  ‘No,’ he agreed with a heavy sigh. ‘No, I won’t. But you’ve got to admit, Alex, sending you up to Wakeley was the best thing I ever did.’

  Alexis allowed his arm to fall from Karen’s shoulders and she felt suddenly cold. ‘You could be right,’ he remarked, going forward to help himself to a cigar from the box on Howard’s desk.

  ‘Never mind. This warrants a drink,’ went on his father. ‘Something celebratory. I know – we’ll have a bottle of that champagne Searle’s got put away for this evening.’

  ‘Oh, really—’ began Karen, feeling terrible, but the look in Alexis’s tawny eyes squashed her protest at birth.

  Howard walked to the study door and throwing it open, called ‘Searle!’ at the top of his voice. When the elderly manservant appeared Howard issued his orders without explanation, and Searle raised his grey eyebrows before going to do his master’s bidding.

  Howard closed the door again, rubbing his hands together delightedly, but the sound of his voice must have disturbed his wife, or perhaps she had already been on her way downstairs, Karen couldn’t be certain; at any rate, before Searle could return with the champagne, the study door opened and Michelle Whitney appeared. She was wearing a pink silk gown, a sort of dressing-gown, Karen supposed, edged with ostrich feathers; the kind of gown Karen had hitherto not seen outside of the cinema screen, and she entered the room negligently, saying: ‘Darling, must you always shout?’

  As though becoming aware that her husband was not alone, her gaze drifted languidly round the room then, resting momentarily on Karen before shifting on to Alexis and her husband. With a faint inclination of her head, she signified her recognition of Alexis’s presence, and then she went on: ‘What’s going on?’

  Howard came forward and took her strongly by the shoulders. ‘Michelle! I’m glad you’ve come down. We’ve certainly got something to celebrate now. Alex has got himself engaged. Isn’t that wonderful news?’

  Michelle shook herself free of her husband’s heavy hands with delicate skill, a smile curving her lips but not, Karen saw, reaching her narrowed eyes. ‘Really,’ she said, assuming surprise. ‘And to whom is he engaged?’

  Howard turned to Karen, who had stiffened almost involuntarily. ‘To Karen. Karen Sinclair. Her father is sub-manager of the Wakeley mill.’ He chuckled, unable to hide his enthusiasm. ‘Karen, allow me to introduce Alexis’s stepmother, my wife Michelle.’

  Karen held out her hand and it was enfolded for a fleeting moment in the other woman’s. But the touch was limp and superficial and Karen was glad to be free again. Michelle herself seemed to be considering how best to respond to this news, and at last she said: ‘Well, it’s certainly a surprise, at any rate.’ Her eyes flickered to Alexis. ‘I suppose I should congratulate you, Alex, isn’t that the usual form? But quite honestly I feel like congratulating Miss Sinclair, even if such congratulations are perhaps a little premature.’

  Howard’s beetling brows drew together. The insinuative undertones in his wife’s voice were not lost on him, and he glanced uneasily at his son. Alexis for his part remained remarkably cool.

  ‘I think a woman should always be congratulated,’ he remarked mockingly. ‘Actually getting her quarry down the aisle denotes the determination of the species. As you should know, Michelle.’

  Hot colour ran up Michelle’s cheeks at the implied insult, but Howard intervened by saying: ‘At any rate, this is just between the four of us, for the time being. Karen hasn’t told her parents yet, so let’s keep it to ourselves, eh, Michelle?’

  Michelle’s lip curled, but at that moment. Searle returned with the champagne, and in the confusion of getting out glasses and drinking toasts the possible confrontation which had threatened was avoided.

  Karen drank her champagne without enjoyment. The bubbles tickled her nose, but it was not a taste she had ever thought she could acquire. And right now she was too concerned with the impossibilities of her position to enjoy anything. She marvelled at Alexis’s coolness and detachment. But then perhaps he was used to this kind of thing. She was not.

  While they were drinking the champagne, the door opened and several people spilled
into the room. They were obviously more of the guests, for they assumed that the champagne was in honour of Howard and Michelle and there was much laughter and comment which Karen felt completely apart from. Michelle, of course, basked in this concentrated attention, clearly considering this was her metier. Occasionally, Karen caught her sending little malicious glances in Alexis’s direction, but if he was aware of them he gave no sign. Karen for her part withdrew into a corner, wishing there was some way of escape without pushing through the throng of people by the open doors.

  She had thought Alexis engulfed by the group, but she was surprised suddenly to find him by her side. ‘What’s wrong?’ he inquired lazily. ‘Is it too much for you?’

  Karen looked down at her half empty glass. ‘Well, I’m not very keen on champagne,’ she said.

  ‘I didn’t mean the champagne, and you know it,’ he retorted. ‘Do you want to get out of here?’

  ‘Could I?’ Karen stared at him.

  ‘Of course. Come on.’

  Giving her a moment to get rid of her glass, he took her hand within his strong hard fingers. Karen liked the sensations this contact aroused in her, but then she was being drawn with determination through the group of guests as Alexis threaded his way towards the door. He answered the many words of greeting addressed to him with merely a smile or a brief comment, and she wondered what his father’s guests would think of their host’s son deserting the celebrations. But she did catch sight of Howard’s face and found no dissension there. On the contrary, he was wearing quite a complacent look and she realized he was imagining they wanted to be alone together.

  In the hall, Alexis halted, but retained his hold on her hand. ‘Would you like to see the grounds?’ he suggested casually, and with a trembling awareness of what she was doing, Karen agreed. It was after four o’clock. Perhaps Ray and Shirley were even now in the lounge, wherever that might be, having tea. She ought to join them, but …

  ‘It’s this way,’ said Alexis, and they walked down the passage he had followed earlier.

  Half-way along the passage Alexis halted at double doors and releasing Karen pushed them open. Then he stood back to allow her to precede him into an enormous room. They were standing at one end, and a polished floor stretched ahead of them, gleaming warmly. It was a ballroom, she supposed, although it could have several uses. Only half the area was an integral part of the main building, the rest being a kind of built-on conservatory, with glass screens which had been folded back to increase the space available. Just now, several white-coated attendants were busily arranging flowers round a small dais, which would no doubt accommodate a band later, and putting finishing touches to the decorations. A looped net overhead contained scores of balloons and Karen could quite imagine their effectiveness in the muted lighting which would be used after dark.

  Aware of Alexis watching her, she said: ‘I’ve never been in a house with its own ballroom before.’

  ‘Actually it was once a music room,’ remarked Alexis, folding his arms, standing feet astride, surveying the scene. ‘The glass-roofed extension was built by my father when my mother was alive. She loved plants and it was a veritable hothouse out there.’

  Karen listened with interest. It was seldom he spoke about his own mother.

  ‘Right. Shall we go?’ He allowed his arms to fall to his sides and Karen nodded. She preceded him into the corridor again, and he closed the doors securely before slipping his hand beneath her elbow. ‘It’s a pity it’s not summer,’ he went on as they walked towards glass doors which gave on to a patio. ‘We could have used the pool. You do swim, don’t you?’

  Karen nodded, and then they were outside in the cooling sunshine, but she didn’t feel the cold. They crossed the tiled patio, went down some steps and passed the drained swimming pool. She thought there was nothing so depressing as an empty swimming pool and said so to Alexis.

  He half smiled at this. ‘Would you have it full to either freeze and splinter, or simply get clogged with dead leaves?’

  Karen shook her head. ‘I know it has to be emptied, but it seems so – so deserted, somehow.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ His fingers on her elbow tightened imperceptibly. ‘But at this time of the year one goes to the Bahamas to swim.’

  Karen found herself wrinkling her nose at him. ‘And what if one can’t afford the Bahamas?’

  ‘The swimming baths?’ he suggested mockingly, and she laughed.

  Suddenly there was an easy intimacy in their association that had not been there before; at least, not for seven years. She found herself talking to him quite naturally, telling him anecdotes about her pupils at school, listening while he regaled her with stories of his own escapades at boarding-school. They walked round the grounds, they sat for a few minutes on the steps leading down to the boathouse just looking at the river, and then retraced their steps to enter a small summer pavilion that Alexis said he and his friends had used for various purposes in their games as children. It had been a school and a hospital, a ship at sea, and a desert island, and sometimes even a stagecoach being attacked by Indians.

  When they finally walked back to the house Karen felt a stab of regret which was further increased when Ray met them in the hall and demanded to know where they had been.

  ‘Do you realize it’s almost five-thirty?’ he asked, aggressively, so that Alexis said: ‘Keep your voice down,’ in a warning tone.

  ‘Why should I?’ Ray was angry. ‘You told us we’d have tea in the lounge at four o’clock—’

  ‘And didn’t you?’

  ‘Shirley and I did, yes.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘We expected you to join us; Karen, anyway.’

  Karen sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Ray. It was my fault. I asked – Alexis to show me the grounds.’

  Ray thrust his hands into his trousers pockets. ‘We’d all have liked to see the grounds,’ he muttered. ‘Instead of sitting in there,’ he jerked his head behind him, ‘drinking cups of tea!’

  Alexis made a calming gesture. ‘Let’s not get hysterical about it,’ he remarked briefly. ‘Do you want some tea now, Karen?’

  Karen shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I – I’m not hungry – or thirsty either.’

  Ray sniffed. ‘What time’s this party supposed to begin?’

  ‘Dinner’s at eight,’ replied Alexis, glancing at his watch. ‘We usually have a drink before the meal – say about half past seven.’

  ‘And what am I supposed to do until then?’ Ray was peevish.

  Alexis shrugged. ‘Whatever you like. We have a kind of snooker-room in the basement. Searle will show you. And now I’d better go and find my father. There are some business matters which require his attention. I’ll see you – all – later.’

  After he had left them, Karen looked rather apprehensively at Ray. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘Where is Shirley?’

  Now it was Ray’s turn to look uncomfortable. ‘I – er – she’s in her room, I think.’

  ‘You think?’ Karen frowned. ‘Don’t you know?’

  ‘No.’ Ray was belligerent. ‘Do you feel like a game of snooker?’

  ‘I don’t play.’ Karen looked at him curiously. ‘What’s wrong? Have you and Shirley had a row or something?’

  ‘A row?’ He gave an indignant snort. ‘Of course we haven’t had a row.’

  Karen rubbed her nose. ‘I only asked,’ she remarked dryly.

  Ray sighed. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  ‘I thought I might go up to my room, too. There doesn’t seem much else to do, does there? I mean, we don’t know anyone, do we?’

  Ray scuffed his toe. ‘You go on. I think I’ll have a look downstairs if I can find someone to show me the way. See you at the reception!’ His tone was dry.

  ‘All right, Ray.’ Karen managed a smile and then began climbing the stairs. Half-way up she wondered with trepidation whether against her will Alexis had had her things moved to another room, but she was relieved to find everything as s
he had left it. She flung herself on the bed without bothering to take off her clothes and stared moodily up at the ceiling. What was the matter with her? Why was she feeling so depressed suddenly? Fifteen minutes ago she had been almost happy.

  There was a tap on her door and she propped herself up on her elbows nervously, hardly daring to call come in. But then she realized that the tap had been on the bathroom door, and presently a voice called: ‘Karen! Karen, is that you?’

  With a sigh, she answered: ‘Yes, Shirley, it’s me. Come on in.’

  Shirley came into the room wearing an attractive, close-fitting dress of apricot jersey which moulded the curves of her figure and showed a long length of leg. But her make-up was smudged and she didn’t look at all happy.

  Karen frowned. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Are you all right?’

  Shirley raised her plucked eyebrows. ‘I guess so.’ Then she turned to the other girl. ‘Where were you? We had tea ages ago.’

  Karen swung her legs to the floor. ‘Alexis showed me the grounds.’

  ‘You? Why you?’

  ‘I asked him to,’ said Karen carefully.

  Shirley digested this. Then she said without warning: ‘It’s you he’s interested in, isn’t it? Not me at all.’

  Karen flushed. ‘Why do you say a thing like that?’

  ‘Oh, I just know.’ Shirley tugged the handkerchief that she was carrying between her fingers. ‘I just want to know why I’m here, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, Shirley—’

  ‘Oh, Shirley, nothing! I’m here to put up a smoke screen, aren’t I? To make Ray think it’s me he’s interested in when it’s you all the time—’

  ‘It’s not like that at all!’

  ‘Then what is it like? I have a right to know.’

  Karen bent her head. ‘Alexis is not interested in either of us.’

  Shirley stared at her incredulously. ‘Don’t give me that!’

  ‘It’s the truth! He – well, he wouldn’t be interested in girls like us, would he? Be honest! Can you see someone like him really troubling about girls from a provincial Yorkshire town when he can have his pick of almost anyone?’