Part 17 (1/2)

”I think you can trust to my judgement,” William said loftily, ”and Uncle Roderick a.s.sures me that Astara is a most proficient driver!”

Lionel reached up to touch Astara s hand.

”I am prepared to believe that you are proficient at everything!” he said. ”At the same time I shall be waiting anxiously for your return.”

William made a sound that might have been an expression of irritation or disgust and signalled to the grooms to - release the horses' heads.

He cracked his whip and Lionel was forced to step back, but he stood watching Astara and William until they were out of sight amongst the great oak trees in the Park.

Then with a sigh he walked towards the stables.

Astara found it impossible to feel anything but a great aching void within herself.

She should have been delighted to be sitting beside such an excellent driver and behind such outstanding horse-flesh.

Her knowledge of horses made her aware that the bays, all perfectly matched, their only markings being two white fetlocks, were a team that one might be able to purchase only once in a lifetime.

William's Phaeton too was more lightly sprung and certainly smarter in appearance than anything she had seen in Paris.

With his top-hat on the side of his handsome head he certainly embellished the whole turn-out in a manner, she thought, that one would only find in England.

Despite Lionel's warnings they moved at a sharp pace along the hedge-bordered lanes in which, as she had noticed on her way down from London, there were primroses, violets and other spring flowers that she had not seen for many years.

There were golden kingcups by the side of the streams and there was a fragrance in the air.

But for her there was only the barren cold of winter within her heart, and it would be impossible ever again to thrill to the miracle of the spring because it would remind her of Vulcan's picture of Persephone.

”How can you do this to me? How can you make me suffer like this?” she cried and thought that her misery must wing its way back to him!

Surely he must be aware of how deeply and cruelly he was hurting her?

Intent on his driving William did not speak, and immersed in her unhappiness Astara ceased to think of the horses, the country through which they were pa.s.sing or of anything except Vulcan.

She could still feel the pressure of his lips on hers, in fact her mouth was slightly bruised by his violence, and yet she was aware that something wild and primitive within herself had responded to it.

She had known instinctively, she thought, from the first moment she saw Vulcan that he was the man who complemented her femininity by his masculinity.

He was her mate, the other half of her soul, the man who perhaps had been her lover in past incarnations, whom she had always sought and now had found again.

And she was sure he felt the same even while he would not acknowledge it.

There had been a fusion between them from the fast moment they had looked into each other's eyes, and when he kissed her she had known that he had awakened her soul and made it his. ”How can he deny all that,” she asked, ”and for what?

His exploration of the world, the penetration of places where other men dare not go, the discovery of forgotten civilisations? Could that really be more important than love?”

The answer was conclusive to Vulcan it was.

She felt as if he had thrown her from the Heaven into which her love for him had taken her into the deepest and darkest h.e.l.l, far worse than any Hades in which Persephone had been incarcerated.

It was not only losing him, it was losing love and the hope of any chance of happiness.

Astara might be young, but she had thought very deeply. Perhaps as her mother and father believed, she was an 'old soul' retaining instinctively the knowledge and growth of mind which were the product of other lives.

She knew now that as far as she was concerned the life she had to live in her present body would always be in-complete and without depth.

She would go on breathing and growing older, but everything that mattered, everything that was of importance, had ceased from this moment because Vulcan was no longer with her.

She came back to reality with a start to hear William say: ”I thought you would think this part of the countryside rather attractive, which is why I brought you here.” Astara looked around.

As he said it was attractive, thickly wooded but with occasional glimpses of fields and of fruit-trees coming into blossom.

”What is the time?” she asked. ”We must not keep Uncle Roderick waiting. ”

”If he does wait for us I am afraid it will be in vain, ” William replied.

”What do you mean?” Astara asked. ”You know he dislikes our not being ready when he is and he looks forward to our rides.

”This morning he will have to make do with just Lionel as a companion,” William replied. ”You and I are playing truant.”

”I do not understand.”

”We are having luncheon at a special place which I know will interest you.”

”Did you tell Uncle Roderick so before we left?” ”I left a note for him on his desk.”

”I hope he finds it before he waits for us, ” Astara said, ”Why did you not give it to a servant?”

William did not reply and she thought it was extremely tiresome of him to interfere with Sir Roderick's arrangements.

Like all elderly men who organise their lives down to the last detail it infuriated him to have any of his plans changed at the last moment.

He had said he would be back by ten-thirty and Astara knew that he would be back at the house a few minutes before and would expect her and his two nephews to be waiting for him.

”We must turn back,” she said. ”I am sure if you apologise Uncle Roderick will forgive you for being inconsiderate, and if he has started on his ride without us we can catch him up.”

”For once Uncle Roderick is not going to have his own way,” William said in what she thought was an aggressive tone. ”I find it difficult, Astara, ever to get you to myself and therefore I have planned what we will do today very carefully.”

'”I wish you had consulted me first.”

”If I had you might have refused to come with me. ”

”I should certainly have insisted that we were back by the time Uncle Roderick expected us.”

”Then you see how wise I was not to risk an argument which inevitably I should have won.”

”How can you be sure of that?”

”I always win,” William said complacently.

She thought as she had thought before that he was in-tolerably conceited.