Part 15 (2/2)

Geoffrey shot out of the room minus shoes. John picked himself up off the floor, brushed himself down and then sauntered out of the room.

'See that you leave soon,' he said over his shoulder. 'And take her with you.' He nodded towards Marion.

Darkie stared after him as John closed the door. What a b.l.o.o.d.y cool customer, he thought.

He turned to look at Marion. She was looking at him as though hypnotized. He went over and shook her.

'Marion, Marion, are you all right?' He shook her again.

Marion retched all night long.

There was a stretch of it when she wanted to die, thought she would die.

'I'm dying,' she said, over and over.

Darkie held her as she vomited into the toilet bowl. When the paroxysm was finally over he took her clothes off, although she protested.

'You can't wear these,' he said as she pushed his hands away. 'They're stinking.'

She began to sob. 'It's all wrong, Darkie, all wrong.'

'You sound like my mother,' he said. 'But we'll try to make it all right, hey?' He stripped her down to her camisole, wiped her face with a flannel and then wrapped her in a large white towel and carried her to the bed.

'I think I should take you over to your mother's.'

'Not yet, Darkie, I feel too sick.' Marion moaned.

The room tilted at an odd angle and she wanted to be sick again but held it back. Darkie was bending over her, concern on his face. Thank goodness he'd been in time.

Marion shuddered. How could John! She'd never forgive him. Never!

'I'm so tired, Darkie. Couldn't I just have a little sleep first before we go.'

'Aye, that might be a good idea.' Darkie pulled the quilt back and helped Marion into the bed, still wrapped in the towel.

She was s.h.i.+vering so he lay down next to her and pulled her to him. She fell asleep immediately. He looked down at her closed lids. He thought of the elegant creature of the early evening floating into the room in her chiffon dress, not a hair out of place. He'd wanted her so much then, could have gobbled her up.

Now he was in bed with her, but it wasn't desire he felt at the moment as much as tenderness. He could have killed that b.l.o.o.d.y Grentham! He closed his eyes. He was dog-tired as well. He'd never seen anyone retch so much and for so long. Where had it all come from? He'd just have forty winks and then they'd be on their way.

In spite of his tiredness it was a while before he slept. His mind was in a whirl. Since the afternoon of the car episode Marion had been friendly but distant. He had been hurt but tried not to show it. Probably had second thoughts! He certainly hadn't; each time he saw her his feeling grew. He wouldn't blame her at all if she did change her mind. What had he to offer? Nothing, b.l.o.o.d.y nothing and he was a numbskull to even contemplate having anything to do with her except chauffeur her around. Even that would end soon because she could drive now and could tootle around in her new car on her own.

He remembered his feelings for Kitty, how besotted he'd been. He'd been a boy then. Now he was a man and his feelings were different. Not less, no never that because he'd thought the world of Kitty. What he felt now was raw emotion, desire, longing, the deep loving and l.u.s.ting that men need. He didn't want a brief affair either. He wanted Marion with a man's pa.s.sionate longing. He'd had a few short liaisons since he'd returned to Harwood. They'd eased the physical clamourings of his body, but his mind had remained untouched by any emotional commitment. He'd never, since Kitty, felt any stirrings of love until he leant over Marion in the car.

One thing was clear. Marion could not live in this house any longer. He finally drifted off, but his mind was still filled with the night's activities: all mixed up as dreams usually are, people in wrong settings, the wrong speech coming from wrong mouths. A nightmare!

He woke with a jolt. Something had disturbed him. A loud crack of thunder made him jump again. Lightning flashed through a c.h.i.n.k in the curtains. Then the rain came down, pelting against the windows, huge drops, which reverberated like bullets. In the gray dawn light he could barely make out the furniture. He had pins and needles in the arm Marion was lying on. He pulled it out carefully from under her and rubbed it with his other hand. He winced as the circulation returned.

He looked down at the sleeping form next to him. In the dim light he could just see Marion's face, a pale blur. The towel had fallen away. He gently stroked her shoulder, watching her become more distinct with the growing light. She looked vulnerable and very young. He bent and kissed her cheek. She stirred and her eyes suddenly flew open, alarmed at first then relieved.

She smiled and looked up at him, 'Darkie,' she said, reaching out her hand.

He bent and kissed her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

'It's impossible, Stephen,' Jessica said tightly.

Stephen's face was grim. 'I don't see that it should be. She comes from the wrong side of the track, yes, but I couldn't care less. It might embarra.s.s you though in front of your friends, is that it? But it won't make a sc.r.a.p of difference because I intend to keep on seeing Leah Hammond with or without your approval. And don't think this is just a casual affair. It isn't. I'm in love for the first time in my life.'

'You wouldn't marry her, surely?'

'I'll give you one guess.'

Jessica tried to hide her dismay. It was unthinkable Leah Hammond become part of their family. There was also the added problem of what she'd seen and heard in the library. If she married Stephen she would tell him all. No, it was out of the question. She'd have to do something, but what? She felt like pulling her hair out, or worse.

Her coolness belied her feelings as she replied. 'I think you're making a mistake, Stephen, and you're being unfair to her. She won't fit in, she just won't.'

'I actually think she will fit in, quite well,' Stephen replied.

'She'll be like a fish out of water.' Jessica ignored Stephen's last remark. 'Although I grant you her speech is much improved, thanks to Miss Fenton's misguided intentions. She's from the wrong side of the track. How will she fit in socially? She won't!'

Stephen looked at his stepmother with dislike. Why had he never realized what a sn.o.b she was? She put her hand on his arm and he shook it off irritable.

'I don't care what sort of opposition you put up, you won't change my mind. Things are different now, mainly due to the war. War's a great leveller. Keeping your place means nothing when you're going over the top, or facing a mad charge with a fellow with a bayonet, or crawling your way through mustard gas, or seeing men blown to bits.' Jessica went white. 'Shall I go on?' She shook her head.

'I know what went on in the war, Stephen. There's no need to bring all that up again.'

'I think there is. And as for Leah not being good enough, as you have implied, I can tell you this. She's got more 'cla.s.s' in her little finger than all the horsy-faced madams of our social set.'

Jessica was silent. How could she criticize? She had no cause for complaint against Leah. Just the opposite! Leah had conducted herself with the utmost decorum, both at the Hall and from what she had heard about her, outside it as well. She was well thought of was Leah Hammond, as were the whole family, with the exception of the father, of course and even he seemed to have mended his ways a little. People in gla.s.s houses, she thought.

Stephen was watching her, surprised that her outburst had been cut off so abruptly. Jessica realized he was waiting for more of the same, but she suddenly felt so dreadfully tired, so fed up with everything, of worrying herself silly about what had happened in the past. All she really wanted to do was to be left alone with George. A little peace and quiet would go down very nicely at the moment. The last thing she wanted was to have to think of Leah with Stephen and to be truthful she just couldn't see it happening, so why was she worrying. And if it did, what could she do?

'I think Leah should look for another job then,' Jessica said wearily. 'I would feel most uncomfortable with her at the Hall now.'

'She can go and help Marion in Ches.h.i.+re,' Stephen said, 'Until we sort things out. Marion won't mind. She's always liked Leah. I'm sure she'll be able to find something for Leah to do there because I know Leah won't want to live on charity. She's too much pride.

Jessica stared at Stephen in consternation. She'd promised Gertie Wicklow she could go to work for Marion in Ches.h.i.+re. She would be glad to get rid of her, too. Gertie was a rather nasty piece of work, and a blackmailer to boot since that fateful day in the library.

It had not only been Leah and Raymond who'd got the shock of their life. Hearing raised voices Gertie had put her ear to the door and heard all, or nearly all. What she hadn't, she'd pieced together. Jessica had been paying to keep her quiet ever since.

'I promised Gertie Wicklow that job, Stephen,' Jessica said.

'Well renege on it, Mother. I'm sure Gertie hasn't signed a contract,' Stephen said in exasperation.

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