Stormspell (12 page)

'Would—would that be so impossible?' she asked now. as his fingers moved from her cheek to find the shell-like crevasses of her ear, and he looked down at her again, his mouth suddenly sensual.

'Oh. Ruth.' he muttered, and she wondered why his touching so commonplace a thing as her ear should cause such disruption inside her. 'Don't tempt me. there's a good girl. Right now you've caught me at a pretty low ebb, and I haven't got the strength to fight you.'

'To fight me?' She looked up at him confusedly. 'You mean your arm—'

'No. I don't mean my arm.' he retorted, and to her disappointment he rolled off her again. 'You're not old enough to understand.' he added, hauling himself up into a sitting position. 'And I'm not the one to teach you.'

Ruth sighed, remaining where she was. lying on the sand, drawing up one leg in unknowing provocation. 'I think you like making fun of me.' she said, half sadly, lacing her fingers through the sand, and he turned to look at her with sudden emotion.

'I'm not making fun of you. believe me.' he averred. and this time she believed him. 'You're a beautiful child, and I'm not unmindful of that fact. But you don't know what you're inviting.'

Ruth sighed, raising an arm to shade her eyes. 'I'm not a child,' she exclaimed resentfully. 'I've told you—I'm seventeen!'

Dominic shook his head. 'All right, strictly speaking. you're not a child. But you are an innocent, and I'm not—as your father would be the first to tell you.'

Ruth lowered her arm. 'How does one become experienced, then?'

He uttered a short, disbelieving laugh. 'My God!' He gave her an impatient look. 'Ruth, get up! This conversation has gone far enough. I think we should go back to the bungalow.'

She didn't move, except to stretch out a daring hand and let her fingers brush his hip. It drew his attention back to her. as she had hoped it would, and she quivered beneath the deepening regard of that curiously angry gaze. He was looking at her differently now. all the humour had gone, and in its place was a smouldering impatience.

'I said let's go. Ruth,' he muttered harshly, but still she did not obey him. For the first time in her life she knew what it was to control a situation, and she also sensed that he was using his anger to disguise something else.

'I don't want to go.' she said, curling her toes into the sand. 'And you can't make me.'

'Ruth!' His voice was hoarse now. and almost unwillingly, he rested on his elbow beside her. 'Ruth, this has got to stop.'

'Has it?'

Her breathing seemed suspended. He was right— she didn't know what she was inviting, or what she wanted him to do. She only knew there had to be more to his sudden withdrawal than he was admitting, and she ached for him to show her what it was.

His fingers lightly brushed her shoulder, and she tensed as he lowered his head. The heat of his breath mingled with hers, filling her mouth, suffocating her. and her lips parted all unknowing, prepared, yet unprepared, for the touch of his.

It didn't happen as she expected. Instead, shamefully. she felt his tongue circling her mouth, and instinctively she stiffened. But he didn't stop, interspersing his exploration with his lips, rubbing them softly and sensuously against hers, inducing the lowering of her defences. Gradually, almost against her will, she began to enjoy it. and tentatively she tried to respond, letting her tongue emerge to meet his.

The intimacy this evoked left her weak, her bones dissolving into fluid. She felt something uncoiling inside her, something warm and sweet, that flooded her limbs and left them shaking. She was trembling so much, she knew he must be aware of it, and she put up her hand to draw him closer. 'God,
no!
'

At this point Dominic extricated himself from her clinging fingers, getting to his feet without a backward glance. Ruth's tremulous look up at him essayed the suspicion that he was as shaken as she was by what had happened, and she saw that the fingers that raked his hair back from his forehead were as unsteady as her legs.

Nevertheless she had to get up. and gathering the towel she scrambled to her feet. If he was aware of her doing so. he didn't acknowledge it. and feeling a sense of responsibility for what had happened, she lightly touched his sleeve.

'Are—are you angry with me?' she ventured, circling round to face him. and flinched at the angry glare he turned upon her.

'Yes.' he said grimly. 'I'm angry with you. Now will you please go back to the house and get some clothes on!'

Ruth hesitated. 'It—it's all right, really. I mean—I made you do what you—'

'Go home. Ruth!' he commanded, brushing her aside, and she stared after him unhappily as he walked away from her. down to the water's edge.

Trudging back to the bungalow, she tried once again to assimilate what had happened. It was her first experience of kissing, but it wasn't Dominic's, and she couldn't understand why he should feel angry when she didn't. On the contrary, she would have liked him to go on kissing her. it was a very pleasurable experience, even if it had left her feeling curiously flat afterwards. Perhaps that was what was wrong with him. she considered thoughtfully. Perhaps because he was so much more experienced, he didn't enjoy it quite so much.

She sighed. She could have sworn he was enjoying it. His breathing had been as laboured as hers. But she had felt his fists, clenched on the sand beside her. so perhaps he had been fighting her all along, as he had said.

It was an enigma, and one she wished she could explore more fully. If only there was someone she could ask. someone who would tell her why Dominic had got so angry at the end. There was always Celeste, of course, but somehow Ruth was loath to share this particular problem with her. Which only left her father, and thinking of him. Ruth knew an intimation of why Dominic had behaved as he did. She also recognised her own culpability in ignoring her father's wishes and associating with a man he despised, and whose identity she had yet to reveal.

She heard her bedroom door close while she was in the bathroom, and guessed Dominic had returned. She wondered if he intended to join her and her father for breakfast, and anxiously anticipated the situation that would create. He might even tell her father about meeting her on the beach, and while she doubted he would betray all that had happened, she could imagine her father's reaction to this news.

She sighed again, dressing in her old skirt and tee-shirt, realising too late the construction her father might put on the new shirt and shorts she had bought the previous day. The last thing she wanted was to arouse his suspicions, particularly when any argument seemed to aggravate his condition.

Celeste, as usual, was busy at the stove when she entered the kitchen a few minutes later. However, the black woman glanced round provokingly when she heard the girl, and made her own contribution to Ruth's ever-increasing trepidation.

'You been with Mr Howard on the beach?' she queried, tilting her head on one side, and Ruth's features froze. 'I see him come back few minutes ago. and when I took in his breakfast he near snapped my head off!' Her lips twitched. 'What you been saving to the man? Seems like something ain't suiting him.'

Ruth seated herself at the kitchen table , avoiding the black woman's eyes, tracing the grain in its scrubbed surface with her fingernail.

'How do you know I've been on the beach?' she ventured at last, when Celeste had made it obvious she wasn't going to continue with what she was doing until she got a reply. 'I didn't see you when I came back. I might have been visiting Father Andreas.'

'Pigs might fly.' declared Celeste sharply. 'And I suppose that damp hair is through dipping your head in the font!'

'I took a shower.' said Ruth, playing for time. 'Where's Daddy?'

'Your daddy still in bed.' retorted Celeste shortly. 'And that's as well for you. But don't you go thinking you can fool Celeste like you fooling your daddy, 'cos it ain't going to happen!'

Ruth looked up then, her eyes wide and indignant. 'I'm not fooling him!' she protested.

'Ain't you?' Celeste stared piercingly at her. 'You mean to tell me your daddy knew about your date

with Mr Howard?'

'It wasn't a date.' Ruth looked away again. 'We— we met by accident. How was I to know he'd be up at that time of the morning?'

Celeste studied her bent head. 'So what happened?' she probed. 'What he say to you? You can tell Celeste—you know it won't go no further.'

Ruth sighed. 'What do you think he said? We— talked, that's all.' She paused before adding: 'Nothing that Daddy couldn't have heard.'

'Is that right?' Celeste pulled out a chair with a clatter and seated herself opposite. 'So you tell me, why Mr Howard like a bear with a sore head?'

It was harder to avoid the black woman's eyes when she was on a level with her. and Ruth stared at her mutinously. 'I've told you the truth. We talked! What did you expect us to do?'

Celeste's eyes narrowed. 'He didn't lay his hands on you. did he?' she demanded, and it was the hardest moment of Ruth's life to date to sustain that inimical gaze.

'No.' she said at last, the untruth torn from her. 'Why should he want to do that?' and saw from Celeste's expression that her suspicions were fading.

'You sure?' she persisted, but it was an academic question, she had already accepted Ruth's explanation. 'Well, you take care he don't. Missy. Is one thing to make conversation with the man. and something else to let him think you cheap!'

'Cheap?' Now Ruth detained her. 'What do you mean? I don't understand you.'

Celeste hesitated. 'Ain't no reason for you to know.' she declared at last. 'Ain't going to happen.'

'No. I want to know.' Ruth put her hand on the black woman's arm as she would have got up. 'Please. Celeste—tell me!'

Celeste sighed, but she allowed herself to be persuaded. 'Well.' she said slowly, 'it a word we use when a girl let a man have his way with her too easy.'

Have his way with her?' Ruth was bewildered.

'You know what a man and woman does together, don't you?'

Ruth's face was burning. 'I think so.'

'You ain't let any man do that to you, have you?'

'No.' Ruth shook her head.

'So don't.' said Celeste simply. 'At least, not until you sure he intend to marry you."

Ruth frowned. 'But you—'

'We ain't talking about me.' Celeste overrode her abruptly, getting to her feet. 'What I am. and what I do—that's my business.'

Ruth looked up at her. 'Are you cheap. Celeste?' she asked innocently, and then cried out in pain when the woman's calloused hand delivered a blow against her cheek.

'Don't you ever say that to me again, you hear?' Celeste almost screamed the words, and Ruth pressed her palm to the injured area.

'I didn't mean—'

'I don't care what you mean.' retorted Celeste, incensed. 'You too old to act the child. Your daddy going to have a heap of trouble on his hands, if'n he don't teach you what's what!'

Ruth sniffed, the pain in her cheek making her eyes water, 'I'm sorry if I was rude.' she articulated with difficulty, pushing back her chair. 'I'd better go and see how Daddy is. He may be wondering where I am.'

'Yes, you do that.' Celeste nodded brusquely, then as Ruth reached the door, she seemed to relent. 'I didn't mean to hit you so hard.' she muttered, with the nearest thing to an apology she was likely to make. 'Don't you go complaining to your daddy how I been beating you.'

'I won't.' It was too painful to smile, but Ruth managed a tearful grimace before she hurriedly left the room.

She stopped off in the bathroom before going to see her father, and spent some minutes bathing her face with cool water. Even so. the evidence of the blow was unmistakable, and she studied her reflection anxiously, wishing she had some make-up to disguise the revealing marks. But there had never been enough money for such luxuries, and in any case she didn't know how to use them, so she contented herself with drawing her hair forward, to hide the swelling.

In the event, her father hardly noticed her appearance. He looked pale and drawn in the light filtering through the shutters, and he confessed to having a pain in his chest that even his tablets would not erase.

'Francis is coming this afternoon,' he told Ruth weakly, when she expressed concern for his well- being, and she was relieved that Dominic's injury should require such assiduous attention. 'I'll have a word with him after he's examined Howard, and perhaps he'll be able to offer an alternative treatment.'

Ruth pressed her lips together. She knew she ought to tell him that Dominic's surname was Crown, not Howard, but now hardly seemed the right moment. Besides, was it really that important, in the circumstances? Dominic was improving. He would be gone soon. Then would be time enough to confess that their visitor had been more important than her father had thought. Not now, when such knowledge could well arouse concern and anxiety, conditions he had been advised to avoid.

She divided the morning between Professor Jason's bedside and the study. She read to her father for a while and then, when he fell into a shallow slumber, she returned to her studies, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. It seemed as though the storm, and her discover)' of Dominic's body on the beach, had been a turning point in her life, and now nothing and no one seemed the same. Even Celeste, who until now had always seemed a refuge in times of trouble, had been affected by Dominic Crown's entry into their lives, and Ruth's bruised face bore witness to a new and slightly frightening isolation. If—
when
her father died, she would no longer be able to depend on Celeste to cushion her against a hostile world. Those ties had been broken, destroyed by a single act of violence. In their place was a growing maturity, an increasing awareness, that she would be alone and self-dependent, and somehow she had to adapt to that fact.

She ate a solitary lunch in the dining room, served by a subdued Celeste. She thought perhaps the black woman regretted what had happened as much as she did. perhaps more, for Celeste was always volatile, but Ruth could not forget, though she would try to forgive.