Devil and the Deep Sea (17 page)

saw her fear?' His brows drew together. 'I thought better of you than

that, Samantha.'

She said wearily, 'I seem to have been found guilty of a crime I

didn't know existed. Will you please explain why it's so impossible

that I should be telling the truth? Why shouldn't Solange have

changed her mind about learning to swim?'

He said quietly, 'Because you,
ma chere,
are not the first person to

try to teach her. Marie-Christine also made an attempt. She threw

Solange in—at the deep end—and followed her. But—she was

drunk, as usual, and did not realise that Solange had sunk like a

stone. If Elvire had not arrived just in time, there would have been a

terrible tragedy. Now do you see why there must have been a

misunderstanding today? Since her ordeal, Solange has never

willingly gone near the water again. For months, even a simple bath

at the end of the day terrified her.'

'Oh, God!' Samma's mouth was dry. 'Oh, God - why didn't you tell

me about this—warn me?'

'Because it should not have been necessary,' he said shortly.

'Solange has kept her distance from the water's edge ever since. It

never occurred to me you would be cruel enough to ignore her

obvious fears. I had forgotten, of course, how insensitive and

impetuous the young can be.'

'Is that what you think?' Samma shivered, feeling suddenly sick.

Solange had set her up, of course. That whole scene had been

deliberately staged because the child knew Roche had returned

home unexpectedly, and would be coming down to the pool. This

was Solange's revenge, she thought, for the humiliation of having to

clean the lipstick off the mirror—for having been found out. And it

was a potent one indeed!

She felt anger rising inside her, and said, 'You dare to call me

insensitive, Roche Delacroix? Well, you invented the word. You

bring me here—you push Solange and me together, even though it's

obvious she can't stand the sight of me—and you tell me nothing -

nothing!' She took an unsteady breath. 'I had to hear about

Marie-Christine from a stranger—and now there's this. Your first

wife nearly drowned your child —and you didn't tell me.'

'Samantha, listen to me . . .'

'No, I won't listen.' Her voice shook. 'You're the one who's cruel.

You want me to be Solange's stepmother, and yet you hide all the

facts that might lead to any understanding between us. I'm supposed

to be your wife, but you never talk to me. In fact, you avoid me. I'm

surrounded all the time by secrets that I don't understand, and when

I make mistakes that could have been avoided, or jump to the

wrong conclusions, I get the blame. Well, I've had enough. I can't

take any more. I'm leaving Grand Cay and you can't stop me.'

Suddenly, all the misery and wretchedness of the past days came

boiling up inside her, and she lifted her hand and slapped him as

hard as she could across the face. She felt his anger answer her

own, as his fingers closed bruisingly round her wrist. There was

retaliation in every line of his body as he jerked her towards him.

With a strength she hadn't realised she possessed, she wrenched

herself free and fled from him.

As if, she thought, with a sob, the devil was after her.

I
t SEEMED
an endless afternoon. Even with the shutters closed

against the full blaze of the sun, Samma's room was like an oven,

the heat draining her, while her mind rode an eternal weary

treadmill.

She had told Roche she was leaving him, yet in practical terms how

could she? He had her passport, and the amount of hard cash she

possessed would buy her a ticket to nowhere.

In reality, she was no better off than she had been on Cristoforo,

she thought wretchedly, but at least she'd had nothing to concern

her there, except Clyde's vagaries. She had been spared the agony

of heartache which was now wrenching her apart.

She was still stunned by Solange's behaviour. How could a child as

young as that be capable of such duplicity? she asked herself

desperately. She had not even guessed at the extent of Solange's

resentment of her, and her determination to be rid of any companion

foisted on her by her father.

Why hadn't she been more wary of Solange's apparent overtures?

And why hadn't some instinct warned her that the child would go to

any lengths necessary to force her out of Belmanoir?

Because I had this romantic notion that I would succeed where

everyone else had failed, she told herself derisively. I could see us

all living
together,
like a normal, happy family. I really thought it

could happen.

But she'd underestimated all the factors against her —Roche's

passion for Elvire, Solange's malice, and above all, her own youth

and inexperience.

That was all she'd ever had to offer Roche, she thought bitterly.

What a fool she'd been to think it could ever be enough!

As the light began to fade from the sky, she sank into a shallow,

dreamless sleep, to be awoken eventually by a touch on her

shoulder. She sat up with a start to find the lamp beside the bed had

been lit, and that Elvire was standing over her.

Samma sat up, pushing her hair back from her face with a gesture

that was almost defiant: 'What do you want?' she asked flatly.

Elvire's brows rose slightly. 'I came to tell you that dinner is served.'

'I'm not hungry.'

Elvire studied her for a moment. 'Starving yourself,
madame,
will

achieve nothing.'

'And when I want your advice I'll ask for it,' Samma returned

angrily. 'Now, leave me alone, please.'

Elvire's lips tightened. 'As you wish.' She turned as if to go, then

swung back again. She said with surprising energy, 'I am wrong

about you, it seems, Madame Delacroix. When you came here, I

thought, "That little one, she is a fighter. She will not give way."

Now you talk as if you are defeated.'

Samma's lips parted in sheer astonishment as she stared up at the

other girl. She said in a low voice, 'Is it really any wonder?'

Elvire sighed. 'Perhaps not. There are many obstacles in your way,

of course.' She gave Samma a grave look. 'And I think perhaps that

you see me as one of them.' She hesitated. 'Someone has told you, I

think, of my relationship with Roche?'

Samma swallowed, wondering whether she was dreaming. 'It wasn't

really necessary,' she said awkwardly. 'I—I guessed.'

'Vraiment?'
Elvire smiled wearily. 'We had hoped, Roche and I,

that it would remain a secret. But I suppose that was too much to

expect.' She shrugged. 'But I can see why you resent my presence

here, although I am sorry for it. I had hoped you would be able to

understand.'

Samma thought hysterically that this had to be one of the most

bizarre conversations of all time.

'But you will not have to suffer me for much longer,' Elvire went on.

'I have been at Belmanoir long enough. It is time I returned to my

own life.'

Samma felt as if she'd been pole-axed. She said with difficulty,

'Have you spoken to—to Roche about your plans?'

Elvire shook her head. 'Not yet. But he has always known my stay

here was only temporary. He will not stand in my way.'

Samma stared at her. 'Are you quite sure of that?' She bit her lip. 'I

had a different impression.'

'Ah.' Elvire's smile was tender. 'He is loyal, Roche, and very

protective. When he has learned to trust again, he will be all the

man any woman could want.' She sent Samma a clear-eyed look.

'And you, I think, will be able to chase the remaining shadows from

his life.'

'With Solange hating me—doing anything she can to get rid of me?

Like that little drama she staged earlier today?'

Elvire frowned. 'What are you saying?'

'That I was set up quite deliberately, 'Samma said stonily. 'Solange

asked me to teach her to swim - almost insisted on it, then

performed her panic-stricken act for her father.' She shook her head.

'Ghost messages on the mirror are one thing. This kind of malice is

something else.'

Elvire's frown deepened. 'If it was true, I would agree. But a child

like Solange is not capable of such conduct.'

'Oh, no?' Samma asked drily. 'And how did she put my

predecessors to flight, may I ask? Conjure up
Le Diable,
or simply

hit them with a hatchet?'

There was a silence, then Elvire began to laugh. 'At least you begin

to sound more like yourself,' she said crisply. 'Now, come and eat,

before Roxanne works herself into a frenzy.'

Samma swung herself reluctantly off the bed. She wasn't sure how

it had happened, but it seemed that Elvire and she had become

allies in some weird way.

'Is Solange downstairs?' she asked, as she ran a comb through her

dishevelled hair.

'No. She has some sedative tablets prescribed for when the

nightmares occur, so I gave her one.' Elvire paused. 'The panic was

genuine, I would swear.'

'I know,' Samma said wryly. 'It just proves how far she's prepared to

go to get rid of me.'

Elvire's brow was creased. 'But for someone of her age to think of

such a thing . . .
Ce n'est pas possible, ca.
It makes no sense.'

Very little that's happened here does, Samma thought bitterly, as

she sat in solitary splendour in the dining-room, Roxanne's splendid

cooking turning to ashes in her mouth.

Not long ago, she'd been envisaging a scenario where Elvire had

helped Marie-Christine to a premature death, in order to take her

place. Now, suddenly, she saw the other girl as someone she might,

under other circumstances, have liked—have even wanted as a

friend.

Or perhaps I'm just having an identity crisis brought on by the

events of the past few days, she thought, her mouth twisting.

What she could not understand was why Elvire was choosing to

leave now, just when her influence over Roche had apparently

never been stronger. Or had the other girl simply resigned herself to

the fact that Roche would never marry her, and decided she no

longer wanted a subsidiary role in his life?

And, even if she did leave, what guarantee was there that Roche

would ever want Samma to take her place on any permanent basis?

Perhaps I should have been honest with her, too, Samma thought

ruefully. Told her that my stay here is purely temporary as well. If I

allow it to be, she amended hastily.

Perhaps Elvire was fight, and she was being unnecessarily defeatist.

Solange might have won the first real confrontation between them

hands down, but she would never get away with that again, and

Samma intended to let her know it. And as soon as possible, she

decided, pushing away her coffee-cup.

There was a light burning in Solange's room. Presumably the effect

of the sedative had worn off, Samma thought, as she pushed the

door open and went in.

Solange, propped up by pillows, was reading a large book. She

directed a sulkily suspicious glance towards her visitor. 'What do

you want?'

'A few words with you,' Samma said affably, sitting down on the

edge of the bed.

'I am reading.'

'So I can see. Stories about wicked stepmothers, no doubt. Well, I

won't keep you from them a moment longer than necessary,' Samma

paused, then said flatly, 'I just want you to know that this

afternoon's performance was the final one. I was prepared to be

your friend, but you've proved to me that isn't what you want.' She

shrugged.
ne fait rien.
But I'm staying here, whether you want it or

not, and there'll be no more phony swimming lessons, or threats

from
Le Diable
.' She paused. 'Do I make myself clear?'

Solange said on a triumphant note, 'Papa was angry with you. I

know he was. I heard the servants talking.'

Samma shrugged again. 'He had good reason,' she said briefly.

'After what you made him think. But there's a saying,

Solange—forewarned is forearmed.'

There was uncertainty in the small face. 'What does that mean?'

'That I won't be caught again,' Samma said bluntly. 'So—forget

whatever else you may be planning. Unless, of course, you want

Papa to know about the tricks you have been playing.'

The book slid from Solange's hands, and she made no effort to