Rooted in Dishonour Read online

  'Ah, I see. For a moment I wondered where you had come from.' The woman hesitated, glancing back at Raoul. 'Won't you come in, Miss Rivers? You must have something to drink before you go on. It's very hot, and you must be thirsty.'

  'It's quite all right, really,' Beth was beginning, guessing Raoul had told her who she was, when he strolled down the steps to join them. His eyes surveyed her with lazy mockery and she felt her senses tingling unpleasantly as she wondered exactly what his relationship was with the attractive schoolteacher. She couldn't believe it was entirely platonic. There was between them a certain awareness which did not manifest itself in casual associations.

  'Good morning,' he greeted Beth smoothly. 'Lost your way?'

  'As a matter of fact, yes.' Beth concentrated her attention on the woman. 'If you could just direct me to the stables '

  'You'vebeen riding alone?'

  Raoul's question forestalled any reply the schoolteacher might have made, and Beth's nails dug into her palms.

  'No,' she replied tautly, realising she could not ignore him in the woman's presence but still confining her attention to his companion. 'Do I follow that track over there?'

  'Aren't you going to offer Miss Rivers a cool drink, Isabelle?' Raoul demanded infuriatingly, and equally infuriatingly, the woman answered:

  'I have offered her a drink, Raoul, but she says she doesn't need anything.'

  Raoul's hand descended familiarly on her shoulder. 'Well, I think Willie would object if we sent her away without refreshment, don't you? Come along, Miss Rivers. Isabelle has some ice-cold lime juice in the fridge.'

  Beth looked at the woman, but she just shrugged helplessly. Beth almost felt sorry for her. It must be galling to be forced to entertain another woman.

  'I'm sorry, Miss—Mrs—'

  —'Signy,' put in Raoul, his hand suddenly at the small of her back, urging her forward. 'Mrs Isabelle Signy.'

  Beth sidestepped to get away from him, but she guessed it would be more embarrassing for Isabelle Signy if she continued to refuse her hospitality. So she mounted the verandah steps behind the other woman and asked how many pupils she taught here.

  It appeared there were only two classes, the youngest children being taught by an ex-pupil, whose only qualification was her availability. The older children received general tuition from Mrs Signy, but the brighter ones attended school on one of the larger islands in the group.

  In spite of herself, Beth found she was liking Isabelle Signy. Once they were installed in the schoolteacher's sanctum, a kind of living room with a minute kitchen attached, the older woman spoke much more freely, and Raoul had less cause to make sardonic comments. The two women occupied the only armchairs in the room, but judging from the warmth of the seat into which Beth lowered herself it had not been long vacated. So what had they been doing? she wondered, unconsciously curious. Sitting here talking? Now Raoul had straddled an upright chair and was listening to their conversation with apparently only idle interest, but Beth was not deceived by his indolence. She suspected he missed nothing.

  'Have you ever been to the islands before, Miss Rivers?' Isabelle was asking now, and Beth realised she had been staring at Raoul's averted head. Her colour deepened, and she made an excuse of raising her glass of iced lime juice to her lips to give herself time to recover her composure. The last thing she needed right now was for Isabelle to get jealous. She had enough problems of that kind as it was.

  'I ' when she could speak she moved her shoulders

  in a casual gesture, '—it's much too far-for most people to make the trip,' she offered. "And much too expensive.'

  'The trick is to get someone else to pay for your ticket,' Raoul inserted tormentingly, and she longed to make some equally cutting retort.

  To her surprise, Isabelle took her side, saying impatiently: 'Your manners don't improve, Raoul!' in her most schoolmarmy voice.

  Expecting retaliation, Beth was astounded when he grinned, pulling an almost rueful face at her. 'I'm not one of your pupils now, Isabelle,' he retorted but without any trace of rancour, and she shook her head.

  'More's the pity.'

  Raoul's gaze shifted to Beth. 'No doubt you would agree with her,' he mocked, but Beth took refuge in her lime juice once more, wondering how Isabelle could bear to have it known that he had once been a member of her class.

  'Do you think you're going to like living here?' the older woman persisted, forcing Beth to respond, and she shrugged her slim shoulders.

  'It's a beautiful island,' she said, which was not really an answer at all.

  'Perhaps you should ask her what she thinks of the people instead,' Raoul remarked dryly, and Isabelle cast him another impatient glance.

  'Take no notice of him, Miss Rivers,' she implored, getting up to add more ice to her drink. 'Where have you been riding?'

  Before Beth could answer, Raoul had swung his leg off the chair and intercepted Isabelle's trip to the refrigerator. As she resumed her seat, he collected the ice and then looked through the open doors across the verandah. 'That reminds me,' he said, handing Isabelle her glass again. 'Where's your escort? You said you hadn't been riding alone.'

  Beth sighed. 'I—we got separated,' she admitted unwillingly, and felt the compelling scrutiny of his green eyes on her bent head.

  'It was Barbara, wasn't it?' he demanded grimly, and the shocked upward lift of her face gave her away. 'Dear Barbara!' His gaze flickered over Isabelle. 'What does she hope to achieve, I wonder? The island's too small to lose somebody.'

  'It was my fault,' exclaimed Beth at once. 'I—it's years since I've done any riding. I couldn't keep up. She's probably looking for me right now.'

  'Don 't hold your breath,' retorted Raoul broodingly, and Isabelle made a sound of concern.

  'Raoul! You don't know what happened. Don't jump to conclusions!'

  'No?' He faced her challengingly, but when her expression did not waver, he shrugged. 'All right.' His eyes shifted to Beth again. 'But satisfy my curiosity—how did she come to invite you?'

  Beth cleared her throat, and rose now. 'I really must be going,' she said, looking determinedly at Isabelle. 'Thank you for the lime juice. It was delicious. And if you could just tell me which path '

  'I'll take you back,' stated Raoul shortly, finishing the can of beer he had been drinking,-but that was the last thing Beth wanted.

  'I'm perfectly capable—'

  'I'm sure you are,' he agreed equably, approaching the older woman and bending to kiss her cheek. 'I'll see you tomorrow, hmm?'

  Isabelle nodded, rising now, but Beth stood her ground. 'Did you come here on horseback, Mr Valerian?' she asked tautly, and he gave her a resigned stare.

  'No. I came in the Landrover, as it happens. But don't

  worry, I'll send someone back for your mount.'

  'I'd really rather ride it back,' she declared stubbornly, aware of Isabelle watching their interchange, but he overruled her objections.

  'It's too hot,' he said. 'And you don't have a hat. Come! I mean what I say.'

  Beth wanted to tell him that she meant what she said, too, but in Isabelle's presence it was difficult. If she wasn't careful the older woman would think she had some other reason for not wanting to go with him, and the more she argued the more suspect the argument became.

  With a feeling of helplessness she accompanied Raoul down the shallow verandah steps. They waved goodbye to Isabelle, and then rounded the building to the back where an old Landrover was waiting in the shade of a stringy oak tree. Only then did Beth give vent to her feelings, saying in a low angry voice:

  'Please—tell me how to get back to the stables and stop treating me like a child!'

  Raoul walked round the bonnet of the vehicle and swung himself behind the wheel. 'Get in,' he said flatly, and in spite of herself Beth had to comply.

  'You'll do this once too often,' she muttered, half in an undertone, but he heard her as he leant forward to start the engine.

  'Do what?' he enquire
d, as the engine fired and he half turned in his seat towards her.

  Beth bent her head. 'Treat me like—like—'

  '—a woman?' he suggested, giving his attention to turning the Landrover, and she clenched her lips.

  'No. You know what Willard would do if he knew the things you had said to me.'

  'But you haven't told him,' he pointed out, thrusting the gear lever into first and accelerating forward along a shady tree-lined track. He glanced at her. 'Have you?'

  Beth sought for words. 'You'd like me to do that, wouldn't you? You'd like to cause trouble between us. You're just like—'

  Yes?' he prompted, but she bit her tongue at that point and refused to go on. 'Just like—Barbara?' he probed, as they bumped over a crumbling tree root, and she grabbed desperately for the door frame to prevent herself from being physically ejected.

  'I didn't say that,' she replied, when she got her breath back, and he shrugged.

  'Okay. Bury your head in the sand,' he said provokingly, and she determined not to say anything else.

  In an astonishingly short time they were back at the stables, and Beth looked round for Barbara as Raoul left his seat and walked lithely away towards the office. Climbing out of the Landrover, she ventured along the path to the stables, but the yard was empty, and she didn't recognise the gelding in any of the open stalls. She turned back and encountered Raoul outside the office, just about to start after her.

  'Well?' he asked, looking over her head.

  'Barbara's not here.'

  'Did you think she might be?'

  Beth moved her shoulders offhandedly. 'No. No, she's probably looking for me right now.'

  Raoul's face mirrored his disbelief, but he gestured back towards the Landrover. 'Come on, I'll take you home. Andre will tell Barbara where you are when she eventually puts in an appearance.'

  Beth had little choice but to go with him, although she was feeling decidedly empty now and the thought of the ride home through the canefields was not pleasant. Still, she climbed obediently into the seat beside him, and he re-started the engine.

  They didn't drive through the canefields. The road they took skirted the plantation, running along the narrow ridge of land before descending sharply down towards the coast. In less than ten minutes Beth saw the roof of Raoul's bungalow below them, and her astonished gasp was audible.

  'What's the matter?' he asked, glancing sideways at her, and then, seeing her pale cheeks, he exclaimed: 'Aren't you feeling well?'

  Beth swallowed convulsively. 'I—it took so much—so much longer—going,' she confessed.

  Raoul's mouth thinned. 'Did it? You didn't by any chance go through the fields, did you?'

  Beth moved uncomfortably. 'I—I don't know. We might have done.'

  'For God's sake!' Raoul ground out harshly. 'Be honest for once, can't you? Did you or didn't you go through the canefields?'

  'All right, yes!' she retorted, pressing a hand to her churning stomach. 'And—and as a matter of fact, I feel sick!'

  Raoul accelerated and they came down the last few yards to the back of his house with increased speed. Then, just when Beth thought she couldn't take any more, he brought the Landrover to a smooth halt and slid out to circle the bonnet. His hand on her wrist, compelling her out, was cool and reassuring, and although her head swam as she stood up, the sickness soon subsided.

  'I'll be all right now,' she was beginning, wishing he would release her wrist, when he moved away from the vehicle, taking her with him.

  'Come on,' he said. 'I 'll give you some coffee and a biscuit. I can't take you back to Willie in this state.'

  Beth hung back, and he looked at her impatiently. 'Tomas is here,' he said. 'Won't he do as a chaperon?'

  'It's after twelve,' she protested, and he shrugged.

  'So what? Willie doesn't eat lunch before one, does he? And he thinks you're with Barbara.'

  'Barbara might be home. I didn't see her car at the stables.'

  'Andre' puts it into one of the sheds for her. To keep it

  cool. Relax! The car's still there. He told me.'

  'Then, where is she?'

  'At Marin's house, if I took a guess. She's friendly with the doctor's daughter's governess.'

  'Diane Fawcett,' murmured Beth slowly, as Raoul's thumb probed the sensitive veins on the inner side of her wrist.

  'You've met her?' he asked, and she wondered if he was aware of what he was doing.

  'Y-yes,' she stammered, and with a determined effort pulled her wrist free. 'Mr Valerian—'

  'Raoul!' he amended dryly, and with a mocking hand he gestured her ahead of him. 'Come along. Don't make me have to force you to accept my hospitality.'

  However, the black man was not about when they entered the low light living room of the building, and although Raoul called his name he did not appear.

  'He must have gone into town,' Raoul remarked shortly. 'Now I suppose you're going to refuse to stay!'

  Beth had been casually studying the titles of the books ranged along the shelves to one side of the room, but now she turned to face him. 'I can make coffee,' she volunteered quietly, not quite knowing why, and a lazy smile twisted his lips.

  'So can I,' he told her, and crossed the room to the door which led into the hall. 'Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a couple of minutes.'

  The room was simply but attractively furnished. There were armchairs, and a couch, and as well as the bookshelves there was a small desk pushed in one corner. Beth had examined every book on the shelves in ten minutes, finding their predominant technicalities rather boring, and in fifteen minutes she walked into the hall herself to look for her host.

  The kitchen across the hall was empty, but there was evidence of occupation in the two beakers standing on a tray, and the jar of instant coffee beside them. A kettle on the oven seemed to indicate that the operation had been started, but where was Raoul?

  A half-open door along the hall invited exploration, and ignoring the small voice inside her which told her to go back to the living room and wait, she looked tentatively inside. It was Raoul's bedroom, a spartan apartment, with a single bed and wardrobe and little else. Then the sound of running water came to her ears and knowing there was no one in the kitchen, she guessed it had to be coming from the bathroom. But where was the bathroom?

  She followed the sound which led her to the back of the house, and halted awkwardly in the doorway of a somewhat primitive bathroom. There was a lavatory, and a roughly-made shower, and a wash-handbasin where Raoul was presently standing with his back to her. A shaving mirror hung above the basin, however, and he saw her almost as soon as she saw him. A look of impatience crossed his face, but whether with himself or her she could not decide, and besides, when she saw the ugly weals on his hand and wrist, she did not particularly care.

  'What have you done?' she exclaimed, going forward, and his mouth turned down self-derisively.

  'Nothing much. I splashed myself with hot water,' he declared flatly, but she could see by his expression that he was" in pain.

  Hardly thinking what she was doing, she took his hand between hers and examined the burns. Already the skin was drawn and puckered, and would puncture at the slightest pressure. He had been running cold water on it to cool the overheated flesh, but as soon as he stopped it was very painful.

  'The kettle,' she murmured, looking up at him, and he sighed.

  'Over-eagerness,' he remarked with tight-lipped mockery, but she didn't respond.

  'There's not a lot I can do,' she said thoughtfully, trying not to be aware of the smell of his body in the cramped room. 'At the hospital, Doctor Marin—'

  'Hey, I'm not going to the hospital!' he exclaimed, but although he gave a short laugh, his eyes were deliberately guarded.

  Beth dropped his hand and stepped back from him, turning towards the door. 'I'll make the coffee, then,' she said, her emotions getting the better of her, and walked quickly back along the hall to the kitchen.

  As the
kettle had boiled once, it took no time to boil again, and she filled the two beakers. She was picking up the tray when Raoul appeared in the doorway and she saw he had smeared some cooling ointment over the burns. He stood aside to let her carry the tray into the living room, and joined her carrying a packet of digestive biscuits.

  'I'm afraid, they're all I've got,' he remarked, setting them down on the low table where she had put the tray, and she determinedly took one before settling herself in one of the armchairs nearby.

  Raoul took the couch, drinking the coffee she gave him quickly, using his uninjured hand to hold the cup, she noticed. She felt impatient with him for his fool- hardiness. If he left the burns untreated, apart from the obvious pain he was going to suffer, there was always the chance of an infection in this climate. But she couldn't force him to go to the hospital, and why should she care anyway?

  'Stop looking so disapproving!' he said at last, and she moved her shoulders indifferently.

  'I'm not.'

  'You are. You think I'm a fool for not going to see Marin, don't you?'

  'It's nothing to do with me,' she returned coolly, but he was not deceived.

  'What can Marin do?' he demanded. 'Give me painkillers!'

  'And antibiotics,' she inserted, and then bit her lip when a mocking smile touched his lips. 'Well,' she justified herself, 'I am a nurse.'

  'I know.' He got up and came across to her chair, walking behind it. She forced herself not to turn her head and look at him and then started when she felt his fingers at her nape, unloosening the scarf with which she had secured her hair.

  She immediately sat up, replacing her beaker on the tray and saying: 'Don't do thatl' in a constricted, jerky voice.

  'Why not?' Her hair was free, and his nails dug through it to her scalp, combing down through the long silky strands. 'You have beautiful hair. You shouldn't keep it confined.'

  Beth rose to her feet, but he stepped in front of her and her breasts brushed against his chest. His mouth curved sensuously as he looked down at her and her heart began to pound with heavy enervating strokes as his hands closed on her hips, drawing them deliberately against his.

  'Raoul—' she started chokingly, trying to summon