Summer Lightning (15 page)

He held her close and looked down at her with those very blue eyes. She thought with a touch of irritation that he was really just a little too complacent. He wouldn’t say “poor chap” quite so smugly tomorrow, when he heard the news—as she supposed he must.

That sobered her—the thought that tomorrow the engagement would be made public, everyone would know. She would have to go back to Santa Clara and face the contessa, Mark, Louise—to say nothing of Dominic himself. Panic seized her again.

But all at once, while Robert swung her expertly between the other couples on the crowded deck, her fears left her. Her chin lifted. The little smile twitched at her mouth again.

For better or worse, she was going through with this thing.

What was more, she was resolved to enjoy it. She was a newly engaged girl. Very well, she would
be
a newly engaged girl, as happy and radiant as everyone would expect her to be.

She’d play the part for all it was worth. She’d carry Dominic along with her, make him play his part convincingly, too. No half measures.

That way, when it was all over, at least she’d have something to remember...

CHAPTER TEN

It was chilly, crossing the harbor again after midnight. A
light, keen wind had sprung up, ruffling the dark water and blowing cold on her their faces.

When they got back to the apartment Freda made a pot of tea and they drank huddled in their coats around a small heater.

“Good party. Very well done, didn’t you think, Chloe?”

“Wonderful, Alaric.” She sipped at her tea for a while, steeling herself. At length she said, “I—I’ve got something to tell you two,” she said.

The Soameses looked at her, then at each other.

“Don’t tell us,” Freda begged. “Let me guess. You’re engaged. Robert proposed, and you said yes.”

Chloe shook her head.

“Not Robert.”

“Then who? Not Mark?” She could see they were agog.

“Not Mark, either. Dominic. Professor Vining.”

“What?” Their astonishment was genuine. They could hardly believe their ears.

“But, my dear, this’ll be a sensation,” babbled Freda, the first to recover. “Why, he’s been the hope and despair of successive Fishing Fleets for ages, I’m told. He’s been the perennial bachelor. But what a scoop for you. My dear, I do congratulate you and wish you the most marvelous happiness. Just imagine, Dominic Vining falling in love at last.”

“Not that one blames him,” Alaric added gallantly.

If Chloe suffered a bitter pang, she had enough pride and spirit not to show it. She laughed gaily,

“Oh, but you’re mistaken. I’m afraid it isn’t like that at all,” she told them.

“Isn’t like what?”

“He hasn’t fallen in love with me.”

“Then why on earth...?” Freda demanded round eyed.

“Freda, my love, remember the curious cat.”

“I don’t care. How can I help being curious? You know you are yourself. Do tell, Chloe—please!”

“Of course I’ll tell you. But you must swear not to breathe a word to anyone.”

“Of course we swear, don’t we, Alaric?”

“Then ... the thing is...”

Briefly she explained what had been going on at Santa Clara since her arrival there. She kept the telling matter-of-fact, as if there was nothing particularly odd about the contessa’s obsession or Louise’s unheralded visit.

Some things she left out.

She couldn’t bring herself to talk about the balcony incident. It seemed to her now so farfetched, so incredible, that she almost wondered if she had dreamed it. Nor did she mention the conversation she had overheard that night in the library.

And not by word or look did she give away the fact that she was in love with Dominic.

Even so, the Soameses found it an absorbing story.

“It’s as good as a play,” Freda declared. “But I must say, Chloe, I think it’s awfully sporting of you to take this on.”

“You’re a brave woman,” Alaric said, looking at her admiringly.

“Actually I’m scared stiff,” she confessed. “It’ll be so easy to make a blunder and give the whole thing away. I go cold when I think of it. And then there’s Louise. I wish I could be sure she won’t see through me. I’m not a good liar. And I must admit she rather frightens me.”

“She’d frighten me, too. She strikes me as the ruthless type,” Freda declared. “But I don’t see why she should object to having you as a cousin-in-law.
I
wouldn’t, I know.”

“Thank you, Freda,” Chloe said, smiling at her. “Anyway, it can’t be for long.”

“But supposing the old lady lasts longer than her doctor expects?” Alaric suggested bluntly.

Chloe frowned worriedly. She had already thought of that.

“I don’t know. I can only take that fence when I come to it.”

“But she might linger. She might even recover. Doctors aren’t always right,” Freda insisted.

“I don’t know,” Chloe said again. “Dominic, of course, would do anything in the world for her...”

“Mm. That’s all right from his point of view. But it’s not quite the same thing for you. I do hope,” Freda said seriously, “that this isn’t going to make difficulties for you.”

Chloe gave her a quick glance. Had she any inkling of the truth? From her innocently anxious expression, it didn’t seem likely.

“The worst part of it all,” she said quickly, “is that Dominic insists I must go back at once to Santa Clara. It seems that his mother was very upset when I left. I’m so sorry—I’ve loved being with you.”

“We’ve loved it, too.”

“Been grand having you,” Alaric assured her warmly. “And of course you must come back to us, if by any chance this thing doesn’t work out.”

“Oh, I will. Thank you both. As it is, I suppose; I’d better go back after breakfast tomorrow. Dominic has already given me my orders for the day,” Chloe said with a little laugh.

Freda gave her a shrewd look.

“It’d be amusing if you ended by falling for each other, you and Dominic.”

“Very humorous.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking a small bet—would you, Freda?”

“Not with me, thanks, Alaric,” Chloe said.

Pretending to yawn, she stood up. She had had quite enough of this conversation.

“I’m for bed. Don’t forget you’re not to tell anyone else the engagement is phony—you won’t, will you?”

“Not a word, Chloe, we swear.”

“Bless you both, I know you won’t. Good night, then. Sweet dreams.”

She could hear the murmur of their voices, still talking it over in a cozy marital way, as she wandered between bathroom and bedroom before turning in. She wished she knew what they really thought of it.

By ten o’clock on Sunday morning she was sounding her horn discreetly outside the big gates of Santa Clara. The porter opened them for her and she drove into the flowery courtyard with its tingling fountain and high, many windowed walls. As on that first day, Lotta came out to take her bags.

“Welcome back,
signorina
,” she said warmly, her broad impassive face breaking into an unaccustomed smile. “My contessa will be very happy.”

“How is she, Lotta?”

“All the better for the news she had from
i
l
conte
last night,
signorina
.”

“I’m so glad.”

“So are we,
signorina,
we are all pleased.” The other maids, and Nibblu and Carmel, now came crowding around the car, eager to show their delight and approval. Chloe smiled and thanked them.

Lotta picked up the bags and led the way up the marble staircase and along the corridor between the portraits and suits of armor. Chloe felt as if she was coming home.

She found herself tiptoeing past Mrs. Vining’s door. She didn’t feel quite up to facing her yet. Perhaps the contessa was asleep—no imperious voice called out as she went by.

When she had arranged her things in the mausoleum of a closet again, and set out her toilet things, she stepped to the window for a moment to renew her pleasure in the shimmering view—and to gather her courage together. Then she went downstairs and opened the door of the library.

“Why, Chloe—nice to see you back.”

“Thanks, Mark.”

“Dominic’s upstairs—Galea’s here. He’ll be down soon.” For a moment Mark appeared to be struggling with himself, then he added gruffly, “He told me, Chloe. The whole story, I mean. Thank God it isn’t real. I had the shock of my life when he said you were engaged. I could have died.”

She looked at him in sudden concern. Was he serious? “However, as long as it isn’t a real match. But remember, as soon as it’s over, I’m in the lists again.”

“Oh, but Mark...” How tell him it was useless? “I didn’t know.”

He grinned in his old cheerful way.

“Forget it. Just one of those things. Meanwhile Dominic has briefed me to aid and support you. Things are bound to be tricky now and then. By the way, I called Robert’s ship this morning and broke the news. Told him the fiction, of course, not the truth.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he would
not
be communicating with you before they sail.”

“Oh!”

“He was a trifle Byronic.”

Chloe refused to take Robert’s heartaches too seriously. “He’ll be recovered by the time he comes back,” she prophesied.

Mark grinned again. He knew his volatile brother well enough to agree that she was probably right. They heard voices outside the door.

“That’s Dominic seeing Galea off.”

Now she would have to face him. She panicked a little, caught Mark’s interested eye and said lightly, “He talked of taking the day off to show me the sights.”

“Sort of celebration? Very right and proper. Only I wish it were me.”

The door opened.

“Ah, there you are,” Dominic said coolly, and came and stood by Chloe and slipped his arm through hers. Her heart leaped, careless though the gesture was.

“Hello, Dominic. How is the contessa?”

“Better, thanks. Feeling brave? Ready to come up with me and see her?”

Now for the big act. “Of course,” she said with a bright smile.

He held open the door and she went ahead of him up the marble staircase. In spite of her resolve her heart was thumping, and at Mrs. Vining’s door she stood stock still, unable to take another step forward.

Dominic said gently, “Not scared, are you? You needn’t be.”

The door was ajar as usual, and already Mrs. Vining voice, surprisingly strong, was calling, “Who is it? Lotta? Dominic?”

Dominic took Chloe’s arm again and escorted her into the room.

“I’ve brought Chloe to see you, mother,” he said.

“Ah. Come here, my dear. Let me look at you.”

Chloe walked over to the bed. She saw at once that the contessa was better. The hand that took hers was firm, curiously alive.

“You may kiss me,” the imperious voice said, and Chloe bent and put her lips against the thin, wrinkled cheek.

“I’m glad to know you are the sensible girl I took you for,” the old lady went on. “You have made me very happy, Chloe. It’s high time my son married. And I feel sure you’ll make him the right sort of wife.”

“I’ll try,
contessa
,” Chloe said, putting a note of hope and eagerness into her voice, trying to play the part as it should be played.

Dominic had an arm around her shoulders now, holding her close. With a laugh he bent and kissed her, his lips just brushing the corners of her mouth.

She thought rather desperately,
I hadn’t bargained for this.
She was afraid he would feel her trembling. But perhaps he would simply put it down to nervousness.

“Of course she’s going to make me a wonderful wife, mother,” he said with affectionate gaiety. “After all, she was your choice as well as mine.”

The contessa reached for Chloe’s hand again.

“I confess it. The first moment I talked with her, I knew she would be just right for you. Bring me that casket from the top of the dresser, my dear. I must give Chloe her engagement gift.”

“Oh, please!” What a sad farce all this was.

“Nonsense, my dear child. Of course you must have a jewel to mark the occasion.”

She took the casket from Dominic and set it down on the bed in front of her.

“Now don’t tell me you don’t love jewels. Any woman who
is
a woman does. And what about a ring? Dominic, of course Chloe must wear an engagement ring. Look.”

She had opened the casket with a little key she drew out from under her pillows.

“There are several rings here. Choose one, Dominic. Put it on her finger.”

Chloe gazed in astonishment at the heap of jewelry now lying tumbled on the counterpane. Brooches, rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, a string of exquisite, milky pearls. Even in the dimness of the room the diamonds and sapphires, rubies and emeralds winked and flashed in their old-fashioned settings of heavy gold. A fortune in jewels, she thought wonderingly.

“Well, Chloe? Any stone you especially like? Choose one,” Dominic urged. He was putting up a good performance, too, her mind acknowledged wryly as she shook her head.

“No, you must choose for me. I’d rather you did.” Did she sound impossibly coy? Evidently he didn’t think so. He picked up her hand and looked at her third finger for size. Then he pondered for a while, turning the rings over, carefully examining them as if the choice was a matter of great importance.

Chloe noticed how eagerly his mother was watching him, enjoying every minute of the little play he was making for her benefit. She felt a sudden warm tenderness for them both.

At length Dominic picked out a ring whose stone was a big square topaz exquisitely set in filigree gold.

“This one, then. Just right for you,” he said with decision. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Then let me put it on.”

Picking up her hand again, he slipped it on her finger and held it out to show his mother.

“Perfect, my dear. The very one I had in mind. Your father brought it back for me from Ceylon, thirty years ago. And now, give these to Chloe, too,” she went on, lifting the pearls.

“Oh, please, no. They’re much too valuable. I can’t...” Chloe began, feeling that the situation was quite out of control.

The contessa leaned forward to pat her hand. Her face was quite transfigured with pleasure.

“Not too valuable for my son’s wife,” she declared. “And so right for you. Put them on now, my dear. They’ll go beautifully with that dark linen you’re wearing. Fasten them for her, Dominic.”

Obediently Dominic took the string of pearls from her. Standing behind Chloe, he put them around her throat, bending his tall head to examine the clasp.

It was rather an intricate, tiny affair and took him some time. His fingers brushed unavoidably against her neck, sending swift fire through her veins.

“There, I’ve done up the safety clasp, too,” he said at last.

“They suit you,” the contessa said decidedly. “You must wear them constantly. Their luster will increase from day to day. Pearls are like that. They need the life and warmth of the human skin to be at their best. It’s years since those have been worn.”

They stayed and chatted for a little while longer and Chloe couldn’t but be aware of the change in the contessa. Her voice was still imperious, but the harshness had gone from it. The dark eyes were brilliant as ever, but had lost their searching restlessness. Her whole face and manner were softer, gentler. She looked really happy. Chloe’s sense of guilt and apprehension deepened.

Dominic kissed his mother.

“We’re going to leave you now, mother. I want to take Chloe out—I have some places to show her. Weil come and tell you about it this evening, if it won’t tire you.”

“I shall rest all day, to be ready for you, my dears.”

Outside in the marble-floored gallery, Dominic gave Chloe’s elbow a quick squeeze.

“Bless you. You were splendid,” he said warmly.

“But, Dominic, you must see I can’t accept these valuable gifts,” she protested, fingering the pearls.

“Can’t you? Not when you see how much pleasure your accepting them gives her?”

“I—oh, yes, I do see. But I can’t help thinking of what will happen if she finds us out.”

“We must make very sure she doesn’t. Don’t worry, Chloe. Don’t feel guilty. You’ve made her happy. That’s what matters.”

She said no more. What was there to say? What—to him—did her feelings and misgivings matter, so long as his mother’s last remaining weeks were lightened by an illusion of happiness?

“We’ll meet at the car in half an hour if that suits you,” Dominic went on briskly. “I’ll call Lotta and get her to bring our lunch basket along.”

Chloe was already dressed for the day’s outing, and only needed a hat to protect her from the sun, which now was often too hot for comfort in the middle of the day.

She fetched a shady straw from her room and went down to the courtyard, swinging it in her hand.

The pearls lay coolly against her neck where Dominic had put them. She could still feel, with a tremor of delight, the brush of his fingers against her skin.