Part 8 (1/2)
Andrew glanced wryly at his uncle, and Patrick said: ”I've been suggesting that Samantha might like to have dinner with us this evening, but Andrew had other ideas.”
”I should think so, too,” exclaimed Barbara, with scarcely concealed intolerance. ”Darling, Samantha has to make her own friends. She's too old to want to come along with us!”
”She just might enjoy it,” remarked Patrick sardonic ally. ”To listen to you, Barbara, banis.h.i.+ng your 'daughter to Daven as soon as she gets home, refusing to invite her to join us for dinner, anyone would think you didn't want her around!”
Barbara's face suffused with colour, and Andrew turned away to hide his amus.e.m.e.nt. Of all the men Bar bara had known, only Patrick had ever treated her like this, and she suffered his outspokenness hardly.
”That's not the point!” Barbara rushed into explana tions.
”The places we go would bore Samantha. Andrew's much more likely to know what she would enjoy.”
Patrick raised his eyebrows, and Andrew's eyes twin kled.
”Get the message, Pat?” he asked mockingly, and Patrick grinned.
”I think so,” he murmured, his eyes flickering over Samantha with disturbing intensity. Turning, he took Barbara's arm, guiding her back into the lounge. He said something to her in an undertone, but they could not hear her reply, however, Samantha was sure it would be some thing vitriolic. Barbara had never looked more furious, and it was evidently a novel experience for her to have someone else in the limelight while she was around.
The c.o.c.ktail party ended soon after seven, and as Pat rick Mallory had departed at least half an hour before that, Samantha was quite glad to leave with Andrew at his suggestion. She told her mother she was leaving, but from Barbara's smouldering eyes she gathered she was not in her good books. In fact, Samantha was sure that had they been left alone together, Barbara would have vented the whole force of her temper on her. As it was, she was forced to appear at least outwardly composed and only Samantha saw the fury behind her eyes.
Andrew took her to a coffee bar in Chelsea. As he had said, the music was outrageous, with a beat group hammer ing out tune after tune, and the young members of the club spent their time gyrating madly to one dance after another. To Samantha, it was all astonis.h.i.+ngly hew and she could not believe that she was expected to get up and dance in like manner.
When Andrew was recognized, a guitar was thrust into his hands and he was expected to sing. Samantha was amazed, but when he began to sing; the type of folk songs which he and Ken Madison had made famous, she was absolutely enthralled, When he returned to their table she caught his hand enthusiastically.
”You were great!” she exclaimed.
Andrew grinned. ”Come on,” he said. ”Let's dance. And this time we'll dance together. Right?”
”Right”
She enjoyed dancing with Andrew. He held her close against his rather thin frame, and his boyish charm enve loped her. She found herself thinking as a sixteen-year-old might think, and was amused at the swift transition in herself. A couple of hours ago with Patrick Mallory, she had wanted to be a woman of his set like her mother. Now with Andrew she was reverting to a teenage outlook.
At the memory of Patrick Mallory, her new-found contentment partially evaporated. Try as she might she could not rid herself of the magnetic attraction he held for her. Andrew was nice; he was amusing and obviously not with out experience with girls, but Patrick Mallory was a diff erent matter. He, too, would be experienced, and from the rather jaded expression he sometimes wore, his experiences had not all been pleasant ones.
But the charm of his dark good looks and lazy eyes, combined with his cynical out look were a challenge to any woman and Samantha felt all woman in his presence.
”What are you giggling about?”
”Oh, nothing, really,” she said, sighing. ”Patrick Mal lory is a very attractive man, isn't he?”
”Oh, lord!” Andrew stared at her. ”He's far too old for you.”
”I know, I know. I was simply being objective.”
”Were you?” He sounded sceptical.
”Are you an only child?”
”Me?” he exclaimed. ”Heavens, no. I have two brothers and three sisters, inclusive of one set of twins. Why?”
”Is Patrick your mother's brother?”
”Yes. My mother's name is Virginia, but she usually gets Gina.”
”Are you the eldest?”
”Yes, we're quarter Italian. Pat and my mother are half Italian.”
”That explains your uncle's dark complexion.”
”Oh, yes. My mother's fairer. She takes after their father. He was partly Irish, by the way. Quite a compli cated heritage, isn't it?”
”And you? With a name like Frazer, is your father a Scot?”
”Partly.” Andrew laughed. ”What's it like to be a thor- oughbred?”
Samantha laughed. It was a pleasant uncomplicated evening; and she enjoyed herself. However, she was ex hausted when she reached the hotel, but to her surprise her grandmother was waiting up for her. When she had rung earlier to ask her permission to go out with Andrew her grandmother had said she would have an early night Now she said; ”Did you have a good time, my dear? You look radiant. You must have enjoyed yourself.”
”I have,” exclaimed Samantha. ”But it's very tiring.”
Lady Davenport smiled ”I expect it is.”
”Why did you wait up?” Samantha was curious. ”Weren't you tired after all?”
Lady Davenport bit her lip. ”I wanted to speak to you, Samantha. Barbara ... Barbara came round here this evening.
She was in rather a temper.”
Samantha stopped what she was doing. ”Why did she come?”
”She was apparently furious because her current ...
admirer... had let her down.”
Patrick Mallory?” Samantha stared at her grand mother.
”You know him?”
”I met him this evening. Didn't she tell you?”
”Well; yes, actually, she did. Darling, did you say any thing to generate such emotion? She was in a flaming tem per. She said that you made her look a fool.”
Samantha's eyes widened* ”For heaven's sake! She made herself look a fool. Doesn't she have any pride?”
”It's been a new experience for her, to find a man who is not immediately enslaved by her,” replied Lady Davenport. ”Patrick Mallory seems to be playing the game rather coolly.”
”He would,” murmured Samantha under her breath, unaware that for all her grandmother's worried words, she herself had felt a surge of relief ... or something akin to it... that her mother had not been able to spend the even ing with Patrick Mallory.