Stormspell (35 page)

They flew back to England the next morning.

Johann Ferrier was waiting in the hall as they were leaving, and he regarded her departure with accusing eyes. 'You did not join us yesterday evening as you promised,' he reproached her, while Martin was organising the loading of their cases into the cab. 'You are angry because I let you fall.'

'Oh, no, no.' Ruth shook her head apologetically, pressing her gloved hands together. 'It was just— easier this way, that's all,' she assured him gently. 'I—we—are parting friends.'

Johann nodded. 'I understand,' he said, transferring his gaze to Martin, but she doubted he did. 'Be happy,' he added, turning away, and she wished it was that simple as she climbed into the back of the car.

Her opportunity to speak to Aunt Davina came sooner than she had expected.

Their return was greeted with much enthusiasm by her aunt, although some of that effusiveness turned to impatience when she discovered Martin intended to go out on the racing circuit that afternoon. She had things she wanted him to do, she said, without specifying, and Ruth left them arguing together when she went upstairs to get changed.

Over lunch, however, Aunt Davina was brittly talkative, asking about the trip, insisting on hearing all the details, despite Martin's obvious chagrin. However, at three-thirty he managed to make his escape, and Ruth and her aunt were left sitting over the coffee cups in the morning room, each of them regretting Martin's departure, but for different reasons.

Ruth had been turning over in her mind how best she should phrase what she had to say. It was not going to be easy to broach such a subject, particularly when she had no intention of confessing who the father of her child was, and she blessed the reticence she had evinced earlier in keeping Dominic's identity to herself. Her aunt would never make the connection without that previous knowledge.

'Aunt Davina—'

'Ruth—'

They both spoke at once, and Ruth drew back automatically. 'Please,' she said. 'What were you going to say? What I have to tell you can wait.'

The older woman hesitated a moment, then she conceded. 'Very well. But it's not important really. I was merely going to mention that Dominic Crown called me while you were away.'

Ruth felt as though someone had delivered a blow to her solar plexis. but she managed to hide the worst effects of her reaction, and moved her shoulders offhandedly. 'Did he?' she asked, trying to appear only casually interested. 'What did he have to say?'

'It was about the party, naturally,' Aunt Davina stated calmly, her eyes unnecessarily intent. 'Of course, I explained that you and Martin were away, but I think at first he didn't believe me.'

Ruth made an involuntary gesture. 'I wonder why.'

'Yes,' Aunt Davina's lips thinned, 'I wondered that myself.'

Ruth's fingers curved over the handle of a fork. 'I—I expect he thought we should have—have rung him.'

'Perhaps.' Her aunt inclined her head. 'Or more reasonably, I think, he thought
you
should have told him.'

'Me?' Ruth's voice came out like a squeak, but she quickly controlled it. 'Me?' she said again. "How could I have told him?'

'I imagine when you had dinner with him on Thursday evening.' observed Aunt Davina coolly. 'It was Dominic Crown you spent the evening with, wasn't it?' she persisted. 'You've been seeing him I regularly since you arrived in England, haven't you?'

Ruth was flabbergasted. This was the last thing she had expected, and her brain was working furiously, as she tried to assimilate what it might I mean.

'Come along.' Aunt Davina was getting impatient. 'I know all about him turning up half-drowned on the beach at Indigo. His mother told me. I had quite a long conversation with her this morning.'

'Did you?' Ruth could hardly believe this was happening.

'Yes, I did. And it explained a number of things, not least that ridiculous story you spun me about him coming here selling tickets for a charity ball!'

Ruth expelled her breath heavily. 'Did—did Mrs Crown tell you about that too?'

'Why wouldn't she? She's as embarrassed by this whole business as I am.'

Ruth could believe that. Dominic's mother had left her in little doubt as to where she considered his loyalties lay.

'You may be wondering why I troubled to make these enquiries,' her aunt continued now. 'The truth is. Ruth. I was concerned about you.'

'About me?'

'Yes.' Aunt Davina frowned. 'There had to be a reason for your reluctance to admit your affection for Martin. I know you said you needed more time, and I respect that, but I am not prepared to stand back and let Dominic Crown ruin your life.'

Ruth bent her head. 'Aunt Davina, I—'

'No, don't say anything, Ruth. I know you're going to defend the man. and—and perhaps I can understand that. He was in your care for a little while, and naturally you've conceived a kind of childish infatuation for him. It's not a unique situation, goodness knows. He—well, I suppose he is an attractive man, if you like the combination of that fair hair and swarthy skin. Personally, I prefer a more conventional make-up, but there you are.' She paused. 'In any event, we both know that so far as you are concerned he's bad news, and I should hate to see a promising debut marred by insinuations of an illicit association with Dominic Crown. It's not fair to you, and it's certainly not fair on his fiancee.'

'I know that. Aunt Davina.' Ruth managed to intervene at this point. 'I—as a matter of fact, I have no intention of seeing Dominic again—'

'I'm pleased to hear it.'

'—but. unfortunately, there's a complication to— to my debut, as you call it.'

'What kind of complication?'

Ruth took a deep breath. 'I'm going to have a baby.'

'No!
'

Aunt Davina stared at her then as if she couldn't believe her ears. Her eyes dilated, and her face lost colour, and for an awful moment Ruth thought she was going to pass out. It took her several minutes and an obvious effort of will-power to sustain the shocking information, but gradually the blank look that had briefly scared her niece gave way to a white- lipped concentration.

'I'm sorry.'

It was inadequate, but Ruth could think of nothing else to say, and after a few minutes her aunt slowly put her thoughts into words.

'Does—does anyone else know about this?' she demanded faintly, and Ruth hastened to reassure her.

'If you mean Dominic—no.' she told her flatly. 'I only got to know myself yesterday.'

'Yesterday?' Her aunt looked horrified again, and Ruth quickly explained.

'I had a fall.' she said. 'On the ice. When the doctor examined me afterwards, he thought I would know about it.'

'And Martin?'

'No.' Ruth made a negative gesture. 'Only me.'

'So apart from this doctor, you and I are the only ones who know about it?'

Ruth nodded.

'Thank God!'

Aunt Davina gave heartfelt thanks, and Ruth could only assume she had been afraid of the scandal which would ensue if this ever came out.

'You can't tell Dominic Crown, of course.' her aunt said at last, and Ruth conceded the point.

'I had no intention of doing so.' she said tightly, and Aunt Davina nodded, before getting up from the table to pace restlessly across to the windows.

She was evidently trying to assess what this might mean to her social position, and Ruth's shoulders sagged with sudden relief. It had not been half so bad as she had expected, and although Aunt Davina was probably still in a mild state of shock, she would get over it.

'The marriage will have to be brought forward!'

Her aunt's amazing statement brought Ruth's head round with a jerk, and as she stared at her wide-eyed. Davina went on: 'Yes. Yes, of course, that's the answer. All our problems solved at one stroke.'

Ruth swallowed. 'Marriage?' she echoed. 'What marriage? You mean—Dominic and Barbara's?'

'Dominic and Barbara's?' Her aunt looked at her aghast. 'No. No. of course not.' She strode back to the table to look down at her niece with penetratingeyes. 'I assume you are about—what?—two months pregnant?'

'Something like that,' Ruth nodded. She had yet to make the exact calculations.

'So if you and Martin got married right away, no one need ever suspect.'

'If Martin and I got married!' Ruth was astounded. 'I can't marry Martin now. You don't seem to understand, Aunt Davina. I'm going to have Dominic Crown's baby!'

'I know that. I'm not stupid.' Aunt Davina sighed in frustration, it's you who are not listening to what I'm saying, Ruth. If you and Martin got married— next week, say—everyone would assume the baby was his.'

'Martin wouldn't.' exclaimed Ruth stubbornly, but her aunt waved her objections aside.

'He will, if you don't tell him otherwise,' she retorted, bringing a wave of horrified colour to Ruth's pale cheeks. 'My dear girl, Martin's no mathematician. If you tell him it's a seven-month baby, he won't dispute it.'

Ruth was appalled. 'But I couldn't do that to him!'

'Why not? You want a father for your child, don't you? You don't want it to be labelled illegitimate!'

'Well, no, but—''

'No Buts,' declared Aunt Davina firmly. 'Think about it. You'll see that I'm right. Now all I have to do is persuade Martin that an early confirmation of your relationship would be—advisable.' She frowned, catching her lower lip between her teeth. 'I might even be able to use Dominic Crown's apparent interest in you to good advantage.' She nodded thoughtfully, if I could make him jealous—'

'Stop it!' Ruth had had enough of this. 'You can't do it. Aunt Davina. I won't let you.' She got up from her chair, but she was shaking so much she could hardly stand. 'If—if my baby has to be illegitimate, then so be it. I have no intention of allowing you to make Martin a dupe on my account.'

Aunt Davina faced her angrily. 'So this is how you repay me?'

'No.' Ruth shook her head. 'I know I can't stay here—I've thought about that. I want to go back to the island. I want to have my baby there.'

'And after the child is born, what then?'

Her aunt was regarding her with eyes filled with dislike, and Ruth wondered what she had done to make Aunt Davina so angry. Surely she could see how wrong it would be for Ruth to take advantage of Martin like that, even had she wanted to. Perhaps she meant well, but how could she say she loved him and then condemn him so readily? She realised how little she really knew of either of them at that moment. It was almost as if these weeks of their relationship had been wiped away, leaving a curiously unnatural void between.

'I don't know,' she said now. 'I—I may come back to England. You brought up a child alone. Aunt Davina. I can do the same.'

Her aunt seemed to be having a battle inside herself, but finally she said: 'Very well. As you insist on blinding yourself to the practicalities of the situation. I wash my hands of you. I brought Martin up alone, it's true. But my father was still alive in those days. I had him to lean on. Who will you lean on, Ruth.when your body gets heavy, and you find it tiring to get about; when your legs begin to ache, and your ankles swell in the heat? And what about when you have the baby? When the pains start coming, and you've no one to care for you, or give you encouragement. What will you do then. Ruth? When your body feels as if it's being torn apart!'

Ruth turned away. Her aunt's words were frightening. as they had been intended to be. but still she clung to her own beliefs. She would not force Martin to father another man's child, nor would she force her child to be brought up in a relationship founded on deceit. She did care for Martin. She might even have come to love him in time. But she refused to use him. which was what Aunt Davina was asking her to do.

The house in Wellington Mews seemed deserted when Dominic rang the bell, and he waited impatiently for someone to answer the door. When he rang earlier, only the housekeeper had been at home, but she had said that her mistress was expected back around four, and it was exactly that time now.

The door remained obstinately shut, and Dominic went down the steps and looked up at the windows before mounting them again. All the blinds were drawn at the upstairs windows, and no sudden movement betrayed a person's presence. Whoever was at home was either stalling or dead, and his temper boiled as he realised the time he was wasting.

He pressed the bell again, keeping his finger on the button, hearing its chimes ring through the house. Surely to goodness someone could hear that, he thought angrily, tempted to try the windows, then expelled his breath heavily as the door at last swung inward.

'Oh, Mr Crown.' It was the housekeeper, her face somewhat flustered. 'Can—can I help you? I—Fm afraid Miss Pascal is not at home.'

''Is she not?' Dominic's mouth hardened. 'I thought you said she'd be back at four o'clock.' He shrugged. 'Nevermind, I'll wait.'

'You can't!' Mrs Radcliffe's denial was involuntary. but she followed it up with an apologetic wave of her hand. 'I mean, there would be no point. Miss—er—Miss Pascal is not coming back today. She—er—she's gone away—'

'The hell she has!' Dominic refused to be put off any longer, and brushing the housekeeper aside, he strode into the hall. 'All right,' he demanded. 'Where is Miss Jason? And don't tell me she's gone away, too.'

'She has.' The voice came from somewhere above him, and for a moment it had a disembodied sound. Then he looked up and saw Davina Pascal descending the stairs towards him. 'What a persistent man you are. Mr Crown! Pestering Mrs Radcliffe with phone calls, bursting into my house without invitation—'

'Where's Ruth?' demanded Dominic, without ceremony. 'I want to see her. I want to speak to her. If you don't tell me where she is, I'll make your life very much more difficult, believe me!'

'Really?' Davina descended the remainder of the stairs, dismissing the housekeeper with a flick of her fingers. 'I'd advise you not to make idle threats. Mr Crown. I. too, have friends in high places.'

Dominic controlled his temper with difficulty, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jacket and regarding her with brooding malevolence. 'I only want to see Ruth.' he declared, his tawny eyes unblinking. 'Now do you tell me where she is. or do I force you to do so?'