Red as a Rose Page 7

  "Come and have a game of table tennis . . ." a deep drawling voice said in Elinor's ear.

  Her face was hot as she swung round to see Kit smiling down at her. She had not heard him approach. For a big man, he was very light on his feet. He was wearing blue shorts and a white shirt. Whatever Kit wore, she thought, looked right on him. Now she noticed that a tiny wisp of hair was standing up on the top of his head. Her hand ached to smooth it down. What would he say if she did? She could imagine his amazment—his irritation. She could think of no reason to refuse so she followed him.

  The young gym instructor in a white jersey and black trousers was helping Valerie vault. Valerie's flushed face was alight with happiness as she welcomed them.

  "I'm going . . . to be . . . just so fit . . ." she said breathlessly.

  Kit smiled. "You're determined to beat me in the finals!"

  "Too right I am . . ." Valerie said gaily and put her head on one side cheekily. "See, I'm practising my, Australian."

  Kit was handing Elinor a bat but he smiled. "My word, you are . . ." he said.

  "Discovered Kit's weakness yet, Elinor?" Valerie called laughingly.

  "Not yet . . ." Elinor said, gripping the handle of the bat firmly.

  "I wonder if you ever will . . ." Kit said quietly as he passed her the balls, for she had won the toss.

  Startled she looked up at him and straight into his eyes. For a moment, their eyes seemed to cling. Was there a challenge in his? If so, why was he challenging her?

  "I'm not sure that I want to . . ." she said in as casual a voice as she could muster.

  "You're a very bad liar, Elinor," Kit told her quietly-and his face was amused. "Your service . . ."

  She was trembling a little as she served two faults. The next serve was a perfect one and, as she concentrated on the game and forced herself to forget Kit, Elinor began to play well. It was a close game. Even though she lost the set, she saw the respect in Kit's eyes as they finished.

  "You really have improved . . ." he said. Defiantly she looked at him. "Hugh has been coaching me," she told him.

  His mouth seemed to harden. "Hugh is an excellent coach," he said almost curtly.

  They went outside to sip iced bouillon as they sat on green and white striped chairs outside in the sun. The swimming pool was crowded, the chairs round it filled with parents keeping an eye on offspring.

  "It can't be much of a holiday . . ." Kit said thoughtfully, "bringing children for a voyage like this. Of course, a lot of people are emigrating to Australia. I wonder what yoU will think of my country."

  "I like what your mother tells me about it," Elinor said.

  Kit gave her an amused glance. "I'm afraid your life with Aggie won't be much like that. They live just outside a city whereas we live miles from anywhere or anyone."

  "Alison is your nearest neighbour, isn't she?" Elinor asked him, watching his face carefully, wondering if he would betray anything.

  "Alison? Oh yes, when she's at home, which isn't often, and when she is, she is usually over at our place . . ." he said.

  He said it as if it was only natural that Alison

  should practically live on his station. She reminded

  herself that they had been brought up more or less

  together. "Does she like country life?" Elinor asked.

  Kit chuckled. "She pretends she does. Actually

  Alison is only really happy in a big city like Paris or

  New York. She cannot stand Sydney, and she calls

  it a small-town-trying-to-be-a-city, much to Hugh's

  annoyance. He thinks Sydney is the finest place in the world."

  -"And you . . . ?" Elinor asked.

  "I like the country," Kit said simply.

  "I've . . . we've never lived in the country," she admitted slowly.

  Kit chuckled again. "So I gather from Val. She was greatly relieved when she found your Aunt Aggie didn't live on a station . . . Country life is the best —the only life. Room to breathe, to move around. In cities there are always so many people, all rushing about madly trying to earn money."

  "Money can be important . . ." Elinor told him, frowning a little. "It's easy enough to despise it when you've got plenty."

  He looked startled. Perhaps he was surprised at her taking him up, she thought. "You may have something there," he said slowly in his deep drawling voice. "I've always had enough."

  And we never have, Elinor thought quickly, remembering the long years of careful living, of trying to balance an unbalanceable budget, trying to make a pound stretch, trying to . . . Oh, why think about it? Those days were over.

  "It was awful when my mother died and we had nothing," she told him.

  "Valerie doesn't seem to have worried about it," Kit said unexpectedly. "She said you got into what she calls a 'flap'."

  Elinor's cheeks burned suddenly. "I was the one who had to flap . . ." she said indignantly. "One of us had to worry . . ."

  "You are the elder . . ." Kit pointed out smoothly. Why was he staring at her like that so oddly? "And Val was the one who thought of writing to your father's family."

  "I . . ." Suddenly Elinor felt very tired. To Kit, it seemed, Valerie was perfect. She might be young and foolish, she might be catty, at times, but Kit could forgive it all. For a moment, her eyes stung with unshed tears. "Yes, she did. I would never have thought of it," she admitted. "Even then, I didn't like it."

  "You know . . ." Kit said slowly, "I think you did the right thing. Even if you had been able to keep yourselves comfortably, I still think it was right to get in touch with them. After all, Elinor, supposing you had a son who went overseas and married, wouldn't you long to hear about him and his children? And if he died, wouldn't that make his children even more precious to you? I don't blame your mother for not writing, though I think it was a pity . . ." He paused. Elinor's eyes were blazing with anger.

  "That's generous of you," she said, her voice shaking. "What right have you to judge? So my mother was jealous and possessive and she didn't want to share us—but what right have we to judge her? You're far too fond of doing that . . . you don't know the whole story . . . we shall never know it, but Mother must have had a reason for hating them so and . . . and . .. Anyhow it's none of your business . . ." Her voice trembled. "You're so . . . so beastly smug . . ." she said

  almost violently and, feeling the tears horribly near, hastily got up and almost ran down the deck and down to her cabin.

  She flung herself down on her bed and let the tears have their way.

  The gong chimed for the Second Lunch and she had to bathe her eyes hastily in cold water to hide their redness. Even so, she felt very conspicuous as she slipped into her seat, the last at her table. She felt every eye was on her but no one commented as she ordered her lunch.

  That evening the Captain invited them to a cocktail party. He was a heavily-built, charming man who spoke politely to everyone but who was obviously only doing his duty and to Elinor, at least, it was a relief when they could leave him. She wondered why Valerie was so excited, hanging on to Kit's arm, talking eagerly. As they walked away, Elinor met Alison's cool thoughtful gaze and, for no reason at all, felt her cheeks burning.

  "Now what's wrong, Lady Kia?" Hugh asked in her ear.

  Startled, Elinor stared at him. No one but Kit had ever called her that. "N-nothing . . ."

  "Yes, there is," he said. "Alison looked at you and you went bright red. Why?"

  "I don't know . . ." Elinor said.

  As if he saw she would not tell him, Hugh went on: "How are you getting on in your heats? Soon be the finals for the sports."

  "I've got two to play tomorrow . . ." Elinor told him.

  He smiled at her approvingly. "You've done very well. Aren't you pleased with yourself?"

  Impulsively, Elinor laid her hand on his sleeve. "I owe it all to your coaching and encouragement," she said warmly, her small pale face suddenly glowing, her eyes bright.

  Hugh put his hand ove
r hers and held it tightly for a moment. "You have been a delightful pupil . . ." he said smilingly.

  Something made Elinor turn her head and she saw Kit staring at them, a strange look on his face. And then the tall man with the arrogant walk looked away, speaking to Valerie, but not before Elinor had seen the ominous white line of anger round Kit's mouth.

  They were dancing that evening when Alison stopped Elinor on her way back to the table with Hugh. "Where is your sister?" Alison demanded.

  She looked very beautiful, her classic features cold and unfriendly, but her slim body elegant in a softly-pleated white silk frock.

  "Val . . . ?" Elinor was taken aback. She looked round vaguely. "She was around just now..

  Hugh's hand was warm on her arm. "She and Kit went out on deck," he said, something mischievous in his voice.

  "I know," Alison said coldly. "But that was three-quarters of an hour ago."

  "There is a full moon—maybe they find it attractive . . ." Hugh suggested, a smile flickering round his mouth.

  Alison frowned and turned away. Alone, Hugh and Elinor sat down and he offered her a cigarette. Elinor managed to talk but every nerve in her body felt tense, as if she was waiting for something. It was silly to feel like this but . . . Hadn't she often gone on deck with Kit while they talked? It meant nothing. Why, then, was Alison so angry? Why had she looked almost frightened?

  It was nearly twenty minutes later and Elinor, still watching for Valerie and Kit but trying to hide the fact from Hugh, was quite relieved when he left her, murmuring an excuse about getting cigarettes. Almost as if she had been waiting for the moment, Alison walked across the room and sat in Hugh's place.

  Her face was cold as she stared at Elinor, her voice low arid tense.

  "Is your sister aware that Kit and I are going to be married?" she asked.

  Elinor caught her breath. So it was true! "I . . ." she began but Alison gave her no chance.

  Alison's icy-cold fingers closed round Elinor's wrist like a clamp as she said in a low fierce voice, "Your sister is a child and Kit is being kind to her, but I don't want her to get hurt. He forgets that, even at seventeen, a girl today is a woman. You have had such drab unhappy lives that he enjoys making Valerie happy—he has told me so and I understand perfectly, but . . . and this is up to you—will you make sure that your sister does not get any stupid ideas about Kit falling in love with her?"

  Elinor's mouth was dry. "I . . . I don't think Val would . . ."

  Alison laughed—a harsh unamused sound. "I'm quite certain she would. Your sister may be young but her head is screwed on all right. She is looking for a rich husband and here is Kit, all ready and waiting, so she thinks. But she is wrong. He is mine. Make no mistake . . ." Her violent voice was suddenly quieter. "You don't want your sister to be hurt, do you? Then make it plain to her that Kit is mine . . ."

  At that moment, Hugh and the diplomat walked up and Alison's face changed instantly. "Ah .. . Nicholas . . . I've been wondering where you were?

  Elinor was dancing with Hugh when they saw Kit and Valerie returning. Valerie's face was flushed with excitement, she was talking to Kit, who was listening with a tolerant smile.

  When they went back to their table, Hugh and Elinor were greeted by Val's excited voice. "Just think—we have been up on the bridge with the Captain . . . it was just too wonderful, and Kit...

  Elinor heard little more. A wave of relief was flooding her. So Valerie and Kit had been out on the deck . . . She paused in her thoughts. Her mind boggled at the thought of Valerie in Kit's arms .. . of Kit's mouth closing over Valerie's . . . Yet Alison had thought .. .

  "Dance this with me, Elinor . . ." Kit said, in his usual arrogant way.

  Elinor, jolted abruptly from her thoughts, looked up into his face and found herself, the next moment, circling the floor in his arms. She half-closed her eyes. Kit danced beautifully. She liked to enjoy it wholeheartedly—she hated to talk to him when they danced, for she had to watch her words, guard her expression.

  "Must you always lool so bored when you dance with me?" Kit asked explosively.

  Startled, Elinor opened her eyes very wide—her pale face suddenly red with embarrassment. "I'm not bored . . ."

  "Then why go to sleep?" he demanded.

  "I . . . I . . ." Elinor wondered how to tell him without giving herself away. "I love dancing and . . . and I hate talking when I dance."

  "You talk to Hugh when you dance with him . . ." Kit pointed out.

  "I . . ." She did not know what to say.

  Suddenly he had stopped dancing, had her firmly by the arm, was opening the door to the deck. "I want to talk to you . . ." he said grimly.

  She had no choice. Out on the dark deck, she waited for what he was going to say.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ELINOR DID not know what she expected Kit to say. She thought vaguely that he must be going to scold her for speaking so rudely to him—for daring to call him smug, but she was completely amazed when he abruptly said to her:

  "Have you forgotten Max?"

  She turned to face him, startled. The great expanse of ocean shimmered in the moonlight. They were standing in a corner, sheltered from the wind, not very brightly lighted and she could not see the expression on his face.

  "Max?" she echoed.

  "Yes—Max . . ." Kit said sternly. "You promised not to forget him—remember?"

  Elinor gripped the rail with her hands, still puzzled. And then she remembered and felt ashamed because she had so soon forgotten him. Max—the journalist who was in love with Valerie, Max who had brought Val the lovely flowers at which she had barely looked; Max with whom Valerie was so impatient because he would not take No for an answer.

  "Your memory appears to be conveniently short . . ." Kit was saying, his drawl intensified. "I was on the train and chanced to see Max giving you those flowers and I also heard you promise him that you would not forget him . . ."

  Elinor began to speak and then paused. "I didn't see you."

  "Of course not," Kit said coldly. "You were engrossed in the young man. He seemed to be very

  upset about something . . . The same man with whom you were sitting in the restaurant the night before we left Johannesburg . . . Don't," he said impatiently, "try to deny it. Valerie was telling me about him—that he is desperately in love with you and that you are, unofficially, engaged."

  "Val said . . ." Elinor gasped. "Val .. ." It could not be true. Why, Valerie would not lie like that . . . There must be some mistake.

  "Yes. Look, Elinor . . ." Kit continued, his voice warmer. "I know you are very young and that this strange unnatural life on board ship encourages romances, but do you think it is fair . . . now, be honest .. . is it fair to encourage Hugh as you are doing when you are already promised to another man?"

  Elinor drew a long breath. "Hugh . . . ? Why . . . wh-what . . ."

  Kit's hand was warm on hers for a moment. "Hugh is not only my cousin but . . . Look, Hugh and I are very close to one another and I don't want him to get hurt. You are deliberately encouraging him and yet you . . ."

  With a quick furious movement, Elinor withdrew her hand from his clasp. "Are you mad?" she said, her voice shaking. "Hugh is not in love with me nor am I encouraging him. Besides Max is . . ."

  "Six thousand miles away," Kit commented drily.

  A door opened and a shaft of light shone out. "Kit . . . Kit!" Valerie called excitedly. "They're having a dancing competition right away—you promised to be my partner . . ."

  "We're coming . ." Kit called. In a lower voice, he spoke to Elinor. "You're a sensible girl. Please think about what I've said. Hugh is too nice to be wilfully hurt . . ."

  Elinor was still shivering with anger as she followed him indoors. In a moment, she was with Hugh who insisted that they, also, enter the competition.

  "We might get the booby prize . . ." he said, his lean good-looking face alight with amusement. "But it'll be fun."

  Fun! It was sheer purgatory
to Elinor, as she danced in his arms. How dared Kit . . . how .. . The tears were horribly near for a moment. How he must despise her. Why had Valerie led him to believe that it was Elinor Max loved . . . ? How could he think that she was encouraging Hugh? Elinor wondered miserably. She looked up into his lean face and he smiled at her . . . but she was sure there was nothing but friendship in that smile. He never held her hand, never tried to kiss her . . . Kit must be wrong, be imagining things .. .

  It was a gay party with lots of laughter, and finally ended up with a sing-song, but all the time Elinor was unhappily conscious of Kit's watchful eyes and it made her feel very self-conscious with Hugh. Watching Valerie dancing with Kit, Elinor was suddenly afraid for her. Was Val in love with

  him? Was that why she had pretended that Max was in love with Elinor? If so, then poor Val was going to be badly hurt. Somehow she must warn her . . . tell her that Kit and Alison were going to be married one day.

  They were very late going down to their cabin and Valerie was not in the mood to talk.

  "Oh, Elinor—there's always tomorrow . . ." she said in the middle of a yawn as she undressed.

  "I never see you alone in the day," Elinor said. Suddenly she lost her patience. "Why did you tell Kit I was engaged to Max?" she demanded.

  Valerie yawned again, stretching slim arms above her red head.

  "I didn't . . . he jumped to conclusions and I didn't bother to correct him,'' she said, smiling sleepily.

  "But . . . but . . ." Elinor drew a deep breath. Valerie was always so maddeningly plausible. "Look, it isn't true . . ."

  "So what?" Valerie slid into bed. "I didn't want Kit to think I was tied up at all with Max . . . Kit is a frightful stickler for conventions, you know, and loyalty and all that sort of thing. I knew it didn't matter to you what Kit thought—for you can't bear the sight of him. That's obvious."