Dark Summer Dawn (16 page)

'But why not?' Lisa demanded in amazement. 'Darling, he has a right to know. You must see that. Do you think it would make any difference? You know he adores you.'

'Yes,' Julie said, 'I know. But I just don't want him to know—about the baby.' She shivered suddenly. 'I didn't want anyone to know but me.

Lisa gave her a troubled look. She supposed she understood. Tony might tell his mother, and Mrs Bainbridge would disapprove. She would not be able to help it, and it would show in her attitude to Julie, and heaven knew things were strained enough between them as it was. She could believe Julie would want her future mother-in-law kept in the dark until she and Tony were married, and the news of a baby could be greeted with universal rejoicing.

She bent and kissed Julie lightly on the cheek. 'Try and get some sleep, love, and above all don't get yourself into another state. It's not good for you, or the baby.'

'Lisa,' Julie's fingers tightened round hers momentarily, then relaxed, 'I'm so glad you're here. I'm so glad you came home—I really needed you.'

Lisa smiled at her. 'That's good. It's nice to be needed.'

On her way downstairs to phone the works and tell Dane —or more probably his secretary—that Julie would not be collecting her car, she realised that she meant what she had said. It was nice to be needed by someone. She had never fooled herself. She had been lonely quite often, especially after her mother had remarried, and she was no longer first in her life. They had been mutually dependent until Chas came on the scene, and although she had never grudged her mother's happiness, not for a minute, she had sometimes thought wistfully of the old days. And the Farrells had never needed her, except as the occasional provider of goodies. Simon? She wondered but could come to no firm decision. If she hadn't been relatively well-known—a face, in other words, would he have bothered with her? Certainly their relationship didn't have a lot going for it as far as he was concerned. The Amber Girl could have been re-christened the Ice Maiden, she thought with a grimace.

But she wasn't sure it was right for her to be needed by Julie. It should be Tony she was turning to right now. It should be Tony's hand she was clinging to. She wondered if she ought to talk to him, but Julie had been so definite about not wanting him to know. It was hard to know what to do for the best.

She dialled the works number and asked for Dane's office. She was expecting Miss Cartwright to answer and it was a shock when Dane's voice said, 'Yes?'

She said breathlessly, 'It's Lisa. We—we came home early from shopping because Julie wasn't too well. I thought I should let you know.'

He said laconically, 'So you've let me know. What's the matter with Julie?'

'I don't know,' she lied. 'Maybe 'flu. It's the time of year for it.' And she thought, what am I doing here chattering inanities, when there are so many other things I ought to say, if only I could find the words.

He said, 'Perhaps. Tell her not to worry about the car. And would you be good enough to tell Mrs Arkwright that I won't be at home for dinner.'

'I'll tell her,' she said with a kind of insane brightness in her voice. 'Goodbye, Dane,' and she rang off too quickly to know whether he had responded to her valediction.

As she turned away from the telephone to relay his message, she wondered why he wasn't coming home for dinner. A business appointment, perhaps, or something more personal? Not Tina, she reminded herself, with a faint grimace. Tina was in Bermuda, but that didn't mean that Dane necessarily had a gap in his life. There would be someone else, maybe even several someones.

And she found herself wondering what it would be like to be one of them. To be Lisa Grayson, complete stranger, meeting Dane Riderwood, ditto, at a party or a point-to-point, and accepting his invitation to dinner. To be with him without shadows. To know a beginning instead of the bitterness of an ending. To be in his arms. To know the pleasure instead of the pain of loving.

She whispered, 'And to know that he needed me, even if it was only for a little while, even if it didn't last.'

It wasn't much to ask for, at that, but Lisa knew she might as well have been crying for the moon, and the knowledge was like a hand closing round her heart.

The next few days passed uneventfully enough. Julie passed off her indisposition lightly as being due to the wine she had drunk at lunch, and no one pressed the point.

One afternoon the two girls drove to Skipton, and Julie bought her wedding dress in the boutique she had mentioned previously. It was a pretty dress in a crisp fabric, with insertions of broderie anglaise on the bodice and sleeves, and Julie seemed pleased with it. And this time, Lisa noted thankfully, she asked for size twelve.

They were walking down the main street, looking at the market stalls, when a man's voice greeted them. Looking round, Lisa saw with some surprise that it was James Dalton.

'James!' Julie's face lit up. 'How lovely to see you. But what on earth are you doing here?'

'Visiting a customer,' he said. 'And you?'

'Just some shopping,' Julie said casually, and Lisa waited for her to mention her wedding dress, but instead she went on, 'We were just going to have some tea. Have you got time?'

'Always,' he said, smiling, and stationed himself between them. 'I think this must be my lucky day.'

'Why are you visiting customers?' Julie asked once they were ensconced behind a laden tea table. 'I thought you were much too important to do things like that.'

He pulled a slight face. 'Nominally, yes. In practice, I do what I'm told.'

Lisa studied him covertly as he chatted to Julie. He was extremely attractive, she decided, but there was a basic weakness about his mouth and chin which she hadn't noticed in her younger days. He probably didn't have an easy life, she thought fair-mindedly, recalling Celia's petulant beauty, and her sharp domineering manner towards him, but then she had never been any different, and he must have known that when he married her. If he had thought he was opting for the easy life, he knew better now.

Odd to think, she told herself wryly, that there had once been a time when she would have had butterflies at the mere prospect of sharing afternoon tea with James Dalton. In those days, she had had an idealised, romantic view of love, but no longer. Dane had smashed those ideals for ever.

She picked up her tea and swallowed some of it, trying to ease the sudden aching tightness in her throat. How wise she had been to close him out of her life and out of her mind for so long. It was bad enough to have to endure the sheer mental agony of reflecting how disastrously wrong their relationship had gone, but she hadn't bargained for the strong physical reaction she suffered each time his name was mentioned.

She was still deep in her own painful thoughts as they all walked back towards the car park, and she was startled to hear Julie's sudden impatient exclamation.

'Oh, damn! Lisa, I've left my stupid gloves on the table in the cafe. I'll have to go back for them,' she concluded wearily.

'No, you wait for me in the car. I'll go,' Lisa said swiftly, noticing that Julie was looking tired and rather pale.

She hurried back to the tea rooms, but a prolonged search revealed no sign of the gloves, and eventually she came across them in the boutique where they had bought Julie's wedding dress. Lisa pushed them hurriedly into her shoulder bag with a word of thanks and almost ran to the car park.

But there was no sign of the black Metro, she realised as soon as she arrived. Instead James detached himself almost apologetically from a large green Rover and came over to her.

'Julie had to go on, I'm afraid,' he said. 'She remembered she had an appointment to see the Vicar. Something to do with flowers for the ceremony, I gather, so she asked me if I'd bring you back.'

Lisa could have screamed with vexation, but she summoned up a polite smile and a word of thanks as she climbed into the passenger seat.

If it hadn't seemed totally ridiculous, she could almost have suspected Julie of manoeuvring her into James's company. After all, it was the first she had heard of any appointment with the Vicar. Most of the details about the wedding had already been decided on, as far as she knew. After Julie's teasing remarks about her former crush on James, it was almost embarrassing to be forced inter his company like this.

At least James seemed equally embarrassed, if that was any consolation. They exchanged a few desultory remarks about the weather—the likelihood of the almost daily snow showers turning into a serious fall—and the differences between living and working in Yorkshire and London. James, she thought, sounded faintly envious.

'Doesn't your father-in-law's company have a London office?' Lisa asked eventually. 'Surely you could get a transfer there?'

He shrugged slightly, his face gloomy. 'Not as easy as it sounds. They are often regarded as plum jobs—rewards for good behaviour. I don't think I'd qualify.'

'Heavens!' Lisa said in mock dismay. 'What have you been doing?'

'Sins of omission,' he said lightly. 'At least, I think that's how you'd describe them. Failure to apply myself one hundred per cent to the job in hand. And, more seriously, failing to provide old Levison with a grandson and heir.'

'Oh,' Lisa said a little helplessly. 'But surely it's early days yet. You and Celia haven't been married all those many years. You'll probably end up having six children.'

'I very much doubt it,' James said cynically, and Lisa made haste to change the subject, uneasily aware that she had come close to trespassing on forbidden ground, although she hadn't lacked for encouragement from James. His marital difficulties, and it was clear that they existed, were no business of hers, however.

They had both relapsed into an uncomfortable silence by the time they reached Stoniscliffe, and Lisa could only be glad the trip was over. James drew up in front of the house, where Lisa went through the formality of thanking him for driving her home, and inviting him in for a drink which he declined as she had quite expected him to do.

Honour is satisfied, she thought, turning away with a slight smile, and registering in the same moment with a swift unpleasant shock that another car had followed James's vehicle into the drive—a car that she had begun to know only too well.

'Oh, damn and blast!' Lisa muttered savagely under her breath, and dived into the house, leaving Dane and James to exchange greetings. Brief greetings, however, because before she had reached the top of the stairs, Dane had appeared in the hall below.

'Lisa.' His voice was pitched low, but there was no mistaking the undercurrent of anger in it. 'Will you come down here, please? I'd like a word with you.' She hesitated, and he added smoothly, 'Please don't put me to the trouble of fetching you, Lisa.'

Stonily, she turned and walked down the stairs, passing in front of him to enter the study. He followed her in, tossing the brief case he held on to the desk. His face was dark and forbidding as he studied her.

He said, 'You don't listen, do you, Lisa, either to hints or to warnings. How many times have you to be told that James Dalton isn't for you?'

Her voice shook a little. 'And how often do I have to say that I haven't the slightest interest in him?'

'I doubt whether his wife would find your assurances particularly acceptable,' he said. 'She might wonder why you'd chosen to spend the afternoon in his company—and how James can spare the time from his work to roam around the countryside with you.'

'It's so easy to make assumptions, isn't it, Dane?' she asked tautly. 'I have not spent the afternoon with James. I was with Julie up to half an hour ago in Skipton, but she left me stranded there, and I had to either accept James's offer of a lift or hang around possibly for hours waiting for a bus.'

'You just ran into James by chance?' His mouth curled slightly in disbelief. 'And Julie., of course, decided to play Cupid. I wonder whose idea that was?'

Lisa was a little taken aback. Could that really have been Julie's motive? Surely she didn't genuinely believe that Lisa was still carrying some kind of pathetic torch for James?

'It certainly wasn't mine.' She lifted her chin and looked back at him defiantly. 'James doesn't impress me on second acquaintance.'

'Of course not. The Amber Girl can afford to take her pick, and James is too much of a loser for a mercenary, self-seeking little bitch like you.'

She was almost stunned by the savagery of his words.

'Thanks,' she said faintly after a moment. 'May I go now, please, or have you some more insults to fling at me?'

'The truth hurts, does it?' he said inimically.

'The truth,' she repeated, shuddering. 'What would you know about that?'

'I know all I need to know about you, Lisa. I had the benefit of studying the subject at close quarters over a number of years, if you remember. And in spite of all the indications, you almost had me fooled for a while. I even began to think…' He hesitated, then his jaw clamped, and she saw that tiny muscle working almost convulsively. 'But that doesn't matter now.'

'How right you are,' she said, white with temper. 'Your opinion of me couldn't matter less. I always hated you, always knew you for an arrogant, uncaring swine. How I could ever have been fool enough to let you near me…'

'Let me!' he interrupted derisively. 'Don't make it sound as if you were a queen granting her favours, Lisa. Let's remember it as it was. You were as hot for me as I was for you. It was a revelation. Of course, if I'd been thinking clearly, I'd have realised exactly what it revealed—that any man could have extracted the same response—even a promiscuous, perverted little bastard like Laurie Hammond.'

His words fell like hammer blows on her wincing consciousness, but she refused to let him know he was hurting her.

'Why, Dane,' she made her voice poisonously sweet, 'you wouldn't be jealous of poor Laurie, would you?'

She saw his fist clench, and stiffened, wondering whether the violence in his voice was going to become physical reality.

'No, darling,' he said at last, very silkily. 'Not of him, or any other poor fools who've benefited from your—generosity. I just don't want James to become one of them. He's a friend, and I don't think he could cope when he finds out it's not real.'