Red as a Rose Read online

  Hugh chuckled. "My dear Alison—you have eyes and ears for nothing but the race and if you lose any money on it . . . whew . . . one daren't speak to you for hours!"

  "It's not true . . ." Alison said indignantly.

  "Isn't it?" Kit chimed in, his voice amused. "Be honest, Alison. You're a menace on the racecourse, isn't she, Hugh?"

  "My word! and how" Hugh chuckled. "She loses all her money and then proceeds to lose ours . . ."

  Elinor sat very quietly in the chair, tense under Hugh's hand that remained on her shoulder. What a little group they were—what memories they shared. Racecourses, training horses . . . the very way Alison spoke about Kit and the station proved that she was certain that it was almost her home already.

  "What shall we do . . . ?" Valerie said suddenly, impatient because she was out of the conversation, Elinor thought. So Valerie also noticed how naturally the three—Kit, Hugh and Alison—mixed, with experiences no one else could share. "Let's play deck quoits . . ."

  "I don't think Elinor is speaking to me . . ." Kit drawled, his eyes amused as he watched the colour flame up in Elinor's pale cheeks. How frail she looked at times and yet she had a quick temper. "Are you, Lady Kia?" he asked.

  Elinor looked at him very quickly. "Of course I am . . ." she said lightly. "I was mad with you but not mad enough to send you to Coventry." She was proud of the laugh she managed. "But count me out for quoits. I've a headache and am going down to my cabin . . ."

  "Then how about you, Alison, or are you still talking politics with your pet diplomat?" Hugh asked.

  "He is a very interesting man," Alison returned with dignity. "It is pleasant, sometimes, to have an opportunity to talk to an intellectual."

  "I bet it is . . ." Hugh chuckled. "After boring pastoralists and stockbrokers . . . Come on, Al . . ." he said suddenly. "Climb down from your high horse —it must be cold way up there—and mix with the hoi polloi. Do you good to play with rabbits, for a change . . ."

  Elinor left them hurriedly while they still argued whether or not it was too hot to play. They had not tried to stop her going—they would not miss her. - Alone in her cabin, she stared bleakly before her. She could have been up in the sunshine, close to Kit, hearing his voice, watching every now and then the way his dark eyes changed colour, just . . .

  That night she had her dinner sent to the cabin. She was so mixed-up that she felt she could not face Kit's amused eyes.

  The days were slipping by, she realised the next morning, as she and Hugh stood on the deck watching a great white albatross wheeling over the ship,

  swooping down to float for a while on the waves, then flying low across the water.

  "An albatross . . ." she said excitedly. "Isn't that good luck?"

  Hugh laughed. "It's supposed to be bad luck if you kill it, so maybe it's good luck if you don't . . ."

  She was conscious that he had turned to stare at her. She stared at the deep aquamarine-blue sea that stretched away into the distance, flecked with Chinese-white waves. There were small clouds in the great blue sky. From behind them drifted the laughter of children, voices.

  "Not much longer—we're more than half-way to Australia . . ." Hugh said and there was a wistful note in his voice.

  Elinor was startled. "Are we really?" She turned to stare in dismay. That meant that soon—very soon—Kit would go out of her life. Oh, no doubt they would meet again, but how differently. When he visited her Aunt Aggie—or when the two sisters went to his wedding, because Alison had told her the day before that they must come and stay with them when she and Kit were married. It would be quite different from here—here, where they were sort of marooned . . . sort of away from the world and its various distractions. Here there was nothing to do but eat and enjoy yourself. Once ashore, Kit would be working hard, would forget this voyage. She herself would never forget it.

  "Elinor, you're an honest little soul," Hugh began, his voice teasing but his eyes, she saw, grave. "What have I done to offend you two girls?"

  "Offend us .. . ?" Elinor repeated. "I don't understand . . ."

  He smiled ruefully. "I'm no Adonis like Kit but I do have a way with girls . . ." He smiled again. "At least, I like to think so, but somewhere or other, I seem to have stepped off with the wrong foot. Val is very friendly and all that in public but when she is alone with me, she is positively . . ." He hesitated. "Well, offhand. She acts as if she couldn't get away fast enough. As if she can't bear to be with me."

  "Oh, Hugh . .. aren't you imagining it?" Elinor said quickly. "I think she likes you .. . we've never discussed you .. ."

  "You're not much better yourself, Elinor," he went on. "The last few days you've behaved as if I might be poison ivy. You run away all the time . . . hide." He laughed but he didn't sound as if he meant it. "Not playing hard to get, are you?" he teased.

  "Why, Hugh . . ." Elinor stared at him in dismay. "I . . . I .. ." She could see that while he was making a joke of it, he was actually hurt. Impulsively she put her hand on his warm brown arm. "Hugh—I'll tell you the truth. I don't know about Val but I like you very much indeed." Her cheeks were hot as she paused. "The reason I . . . why these last few days I've . . ."

  "Go on . . ." he said gently.

  "I don't know how to tell you . . ." Elinor tried again. "You see, Hugh, Kit told me to stop encouraging you . . ."

  Her cheeks flamed again.

  Hugh frowned. "Kit said . . . that?"

  She nodded unhappily. "He said you were too nice to be hurt wilfully. Those were his very words. He said I was encouraging you . . ."

  "You were not," Hugh said indignantly. "You were just being a nice friendly girl . . ."

  Relief flooded her. "Oh, Hugh, I'm so glad. I've been so worried . . ." she gasped.

  His hand closed over hers. "Kit must be .. . mad." He looked suddenly thoughtful. "Now I understand. Look, Elinor, just go on being your natural self. I promise I won't be hurt by you. In any case . . ." he added ruefully, "it's too late . ."

  Elinor's eyes searched his face. Her soft, dark-brown, curly hair was blown about by the wind. In her pale face, her eyes looked enormous.

  "Oh, Hugh, you're in love . . ." she said. "And ... and have things gone wrong?"

  He smiled at her, squeezing her fingers. "No—not really. I think they just appear to have gone wrong, but actually, I'm feeling a great deal more hopeful . . . Ah, here they come . . ." he added hastily, leaving his hand on hers, as Kit and Valerie joined them. Elinor often wondered how it happened that Valerie always made her first appearance in the morning accompanied by Kit—and somehow she had always thought it happened by chance. Now, for the first time, she wondered. Did Valerie go to his suite and literally drag him away from his business letters? Or had they an arrangement whereby they met at the same time each morning? She felt suddenly

  desolate, and wondered how she would bear it if Kit became her brother-in-law.

  The day passed like all the others. There was nothing to do and yet plenty to do. In the wonderful sunshine they swam and sun-bathed, and then either chatted idly or summoned enough energy to play quoits or croquet on the boat deck. The hours floated by, seemingly endless, but always it came as a shock to Elinor when it was time to go to dress for dinner.

  That evening as she left the drawing-room where they had all been having tea, she was startled when Kit suddenly said: "Don't forget there's dancing tonight, Elinor. Save me the first dance . . ."

  It was the first time he had said anything like that to her. She stood very still, staring at him, feeling as usual the colour mounting in her cheeks, waiting tensely to hear him call her 'Lady Kia'. But for once he looked at her gravely, no glint of teasing or anger in his eyes. She was about to accept when she remembered that she had promised to baby-sit.

  In her disappointment and embarrassment, she was abrupt.

  "I'm sorry but I'm not dancing tonight. I have other plans . . ." she said and turned away quickly, not waiting for his reply.

  All throug
h dinner, Valerie teased her. "What other plans, Elinor?" she kept asking. "Found yourself a new boy friend?"

  Very aware that the others were looking at her, Elinor refused to answer, merely saying: "It's my own affair."

  Half-way through dinner, Sam Keet stopped by their table. He smiled at Elinor and bent down over her shoulder, saying quietly—and yet loud enough for the others to hear: "Okay about tonight?"

  Elinor nodded and smiled into his eyes. "Yes—quite okay," she said.

  Sam hesitated, his eyes roving over the others. "Look, if you regret your promise it's not too late . . ."

  Elinor laughed. "Oh, Sam, a promise is a promise and I'm not regretting it . . ."

  There was a stillness about the table after he had gone. Elinor was aware that everyone was waiting for her to explain. Why should she? Cheeks hot, she solemnly ate, determined to make someone ask her a question if they could not control their curiosity.

  "Who's the handsome one, Elinor?" Valerie asked at last.

  Elinor smiled at her very sweetly. "A friend of mine. His name's Sam Keet."

  "Where did you meet him?" Kit asked, his voice stern.

  Elinor laughed outright. "My dear Kit . . ." she said airily. "Where do we meet everyone on the ship? At the swimming-pool, of course. Don't you remember . . ." she went on, half-scared and yet determined to stand up to him. "You saw me talking to him yesterday . . ."

  "He's smooth," Valerie said excitedly. "Why didn't you tell me about him?"

  Elinor might have said "Because he is happily" married" but she decided to say nothing. It wouldn't

  hurt Kit to know that she could be independent and look after herself. He was inclined to be a great deal too bossy . . .

  As they went up to coffee in the lounge, Kit caught her by the arm and held her back so that he could speak to her quietly.

  "Elinor . . . won't you introduce that man to us?"

  Startled, she looked up at him. "Why, if you want me to . . ." she began meekly and then drew a deep breath. Kit was not her lord and master, he had no right to judge her friends. She thrust out her small chin defiantly and glared at him. "I'll ask Sam if he'd like to meet you . . ." she told him.

  Kit's mouth was a thin line. "I think it would be best, Elinor. After all, I am responsible for your well-being . . ."

  "Oh, for . . ." Elinor began and controlled herself with an effort. "Look, Kit," she, said very patiently, "I'm not a child. I know just what I am doing . . ."

  He gave her a queer look. "I sincerely hope you do . . ." he said, releasing her arm and walking away from her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  IT SEEMED a long endless evening to Elinor, curled up on Petula's bed, pretending to read but all the time thinking about the dancing up in the verandah cafe. She wondered what had made Kit ask her for the first dance like that. Usually he danced first with Val or Alison. If only she had not promised Sam and Petula that she would baby-sit for them . . . but she had promised and it meant so much to them.

  The babies were sweet and as good as gold. Sally, looking so angelic, was curled up into a ball, her thumb in her mouth; the baby had the faint flush of sleep on her cheek.

  She must have dozed off, for she awoke suddenly when the door opened and there was Petula beaming down on her.

  "Have they been good?" Petula whispered as Elinor hastily stood up, smoothing her crumpled blue frock.

  "Not a sound . . ." Elinor whispered. "Enjoy yourself ?"

  "Oh, it was just heavenly," Petula whispered back. "Just like old times. I can't thank you enough . . ."

  "That's all right. I'll . . . I'll baby-sit another time if you like . . ." Elinor volunteered, moved by the happiness on the other girl's face.

  "You really are an angel . . ." Petula said softly.

  Back in her cabin Elinor had just undressed and got into bed when the door flew open and in came Valerie. Valerie's eyes were shining excitedly.

  "Oh, Elinor—you've missed so much fun," she said eagerly.

  Elinor's heart sank. "The dance was good . . . ?"

  Valerie waved an airy hand. "Oh, we didn't dance. One can dance any night. No—we had a party. It was terrific, Elinor . . ." She was stripping off her tight sheath frock as she spoke, rolling down her stockings, tossing them in the air and catching them. "Oh, Elinor, it was fun. We acted charades and had a grand time. Even Alison managed to unbend and played one of Cinderella's ugly sisters . . ." Valerie laughed. "I wish you could have seen her . . . she really can act."

  "I take it you were Cinderella . . . ?" Elinor asked.

  Valerie exploded with laughter. "That's the fun of it . . . Kit was Cinderella and Hugh the Prince." "And you?"

  "Oh, I was on the other side. There was that nice Third Officer and Alison's stuffy diplomat, who is really fun when he gets going . . ." Valerie said, sliding into bed, switching off the light. "The best · evening of the voyage so far . .

  A little pang of misery shot through Elinor. Yet what alternative had she had? And they hadn't even missed her.

  From the darkness came Valerie's chuckle. "Really, Elinor, Kit was fussing like a mother hen about you. He kept going back to the dancing to see

  where you were, but he couldn't find you. Where have you been?"

  "Reading . . ." Elinor said truthfully.

  Valerie laughed. "Reading! Tell that to the marines!"

  They were silent for a while and then Valerie said: "Could you guarantee to wake me at half-past five, Elinor?"

  "Half-past five!" Elinor echoed. "What on earth . . ."

  "I'm watching the sunrise with someone . . ." Valerie told her airily. She switched on the bedside light. "Lend me your alarm clock, Elinor. This is a very important date . . ." she finished and chuckled as she wound and set the clock. "'Night . . ."

  Again in the darkness, Elinor lay and pondered. Val, who loved her bed and who, when given her chance as on this trip, never got up before ten o'clock, was getting up at five-thirty. Was it for Kit . . .?

  When Elinor awoke in the morning, she saw Valerie's empty bed and knew that either she herself must have been sleeping heavily when the alarm went off or Valerie must have switched it off very quickly, for she had heard nothing.

  She was alone at breakfast. There was no sign even of Hugh. She wandered round the decks, wondering where everyone had vanished, and then she saw Kit . . . he was standing, feet apart, hands clasped loosely behind his back as he gazed, frowning, at the beautiful blue water. Elinor's hand flew to her

  mouth for he turned round suddenly as if feeling her eyes upon him.

  "Good morning . . ." he drawled with that touch of formality he occasionally used. He was wearing a white sports shirt and white shorts and his brown face under the bleached sun-kissed hair was grave. "I wondered where you girls had got to . . ."

  "I thought . . ." Elinor said, moving to his side, "Val was with you."

  Kit lifted one fair eyebrow in that maddening way he had. "Indeed . . . what made you think that?"

  "Well . . ." Elinor hesitated. She did not like to point out that Val and Kit usually appeared on deck together in the mornings as though they had met by arrangement. "She set the alarm for five-thirty . . ." Elinor went on, gazing up into his stern face, "and said she was getting up to see the sunrise . ."

  "A most laudable desire . ." Kit drawled sarcastically, "But not with me. The sunrises here are nothing compared to ours in Australia."

  "You told me not to be narrow-minded about my country . . ." Elinor pointed out, "but you and Hugh are always talking of Australia as if it is the only country worth living in . . ."

  Kit's stern face relaxed and his eyes twinkled.

  "Well, it is, Lady Kia . . ." He paused to watch the

  effect of his teasing words as the pretty colour

  flooded her cheeks. "But I stand corrected. Doubtless you have wonderful sunrises in South Africa."

  "We certainly do . . ." Elinor told him warmly.

  "Wonderful ones . . . only . . ." she went on
with

  her usual honesty, "I haven't seen many of them for I never got up very early."

  "I see the sunrise every day," Kit said. "I never grow tired of looking at it. Well . . ." He looked at his watch. "I've some work to do. You quite happy?"

  "Of course . . ." Elinor said, but she watched him walk down the ueck with his deceptively slow strides that yet covered the ground with considerable speed and thought miserably that she could not even keep him by her side for ten minutes.

  'Where was Valerie, then? And Hugh? Could they be together?

  But Valerie wasn't with Hugh for, looking into the writing-room where golden squirrels nibbled away at nuts on the silver-panelled walls, Elinor saw Hugh engrossed in writing letters. He looked up and smiled at her so she went quietly to his side and asked him if he had seen Valerie.

  He shook his head. "No, I came straight here after breakfast." He looked at his watch and his lean face was amused. "Is she up yet?"

  Elinor nodded. "She got up at five-thirty to watch the sun rise."

  Hugh whistled softly and earned a disapproving look from a plump white-haired woman sitting opposite him. "Doesn't sound like Val . . ." Hugh said. He looked into Elinor's troubled eyes. "Why, you're worried . . ."

  She blushed. "I know it's silly—Kit says I fuss, but . . ."

  Hugh nodded. "I know, but I don't think there's anything to worry about, Elinor. I've three more letters to get off and then I'll come and help you look for her. Just relax meanwhile . . ."

  She tried to obey him, but it wasn't easy. For no rhyme or reason she was worried. She wandered all over the decks, looking for Valerie, but there was no sign of her at all.

  "She must be somewhere—" Kit pointed out impatiently when he met her wandering around and asked her why she looked so worried. He frowned. "You really do fuss about her, Elinor. Try to leave her alone."

  "It's easy enough for you to talk . . ." Elinor said, furious with him. "She isn't your sister."