Whisper The Darkness Part 15

Come along, Anya, say goodnight. It's much too late and too cold for little girls to be out of bed.'

And for her, too, thought Joanna wearily, closing her door behind her. Not that she felt an outer cold, only an inner one, and the devastating conviction that after this there would be no second chances.

CHAPTER TEN.

IF she slept at all, it was doubtful, and she got up the following morning feeling the weight of impending disaster hanging over her..

She bathed and dressed in maroon corded pants and a matching silk s.h.i.+rt, and then after securing her hair with a ribbon went downstairs to face her fate.

Mrs Parrish was preparing breakfast in the kitchen with rea.s.suring normality, but Joanna was not deceived. Her question as to Jake's whereabouts procured the information that he had eaten earlier, but her short-lived relief was erased by the further advice that he had left instructions for her to meet him in the library at nine o'clock.

Anya appeared as she was swallowing her second cup of coffee, having refused any of the toast Mrs Parrish had prepared for her, and she found it incredibly difficult to face her after the scene the night before. The fact that the child was wearing one of the dresses they had bought the day before didn't help, and she avoided making any remark that might precipitate an argument.

Anya's face was sullen as she took her seat, and her mind was obviously not on her appearance, which seemed to diminish Joanna's hopes that she might have forgotten the previous night's fiasco.

Any hopes she had were short-lived. Not that Anya mentioned that humiliating interlude. She said something far more devastating, and Joanna could only sit and look at her while Mrs Parrish clicked her tongue.

'Whatever are you saying, Anya?' she exclaimed, giving Joanna a half perplexed, half sympathetic look. 'Miss Seton isn't leaving. You must have made a mistake.'

'No, I haven't.' Anya pursed her lips indignantly. 'Daddy told me, last night. He-he said that Miss Seton had to go back to London.'

Mrs Parrish turned a shocked gaze in Joanna's direction. 'Is this true?' she exclaimed. 'Do you have to go back? I- well, it's so unexpected.'

'She's just like all the rest,' muttered Anya dourly. 'They all hate it here. They hate me!'

'Anya, that's not true!' Joanna was on her feet in a second.

'I-I -'

She sought desperately for something to say that would not betray her situation. 'It's just that-well, your daddy and I don't agree on- on everything.'

'Well, you are apt to speak a little impertinently to him sometimes,'

Mrs Parrish inserted doubtfully. 'I mean, you are only an employee, Miss Seton -'

'It's not that!' declared Anya sulkily. 'Daddy doesn't mind.

He-he said he admired Miss Seton for speaking her mind.'

'He did?' Joanna said this almost incredulously, and then sobered again as she encountered Anya's brooding stare. 'That is-oh, Anya!

I don't want to leave, but perhaps I don't have a choice.'

Anya's expression faltered. 'What do you mean?'

Joanna sighed, wis.h.i.+ng she hadn't started this. 'Sometimes- sometimes people just-can't get along.'

'You and Daddy, you mean?'

Joanna hesitated. 'Perhaps.'

'But he likes you. I know he does,' exclaimed Anya vehemently.

'Just because you quarrel sometimes, it doesn't mean you have to leave!'

Joanna spread her hands. 'Anya, it's not that simple.'

The child sniffed. 'I don't believe you.'

Joanna made a helpless gesture. 'Then ask your father. After all, he makes the decisions around here.'

Anya hunched over the plate of cereal Mrs Parrish had put before her and didn't reply. Joanna guessed speaking to her father was a daunting proposition even for her, and with a feeling of desperation she finished her own breakfast and left the table.

She knocked at the library door at five minutes to nine only to find the room empty. Obviously, her employer had not expected her to be early, and she paced anxiously across the floor, arms crossed protectively around her midriff.

Promptly at nine o'clock Jake arrived to join her. He came into the room with a firm decisive tread, and one look at his dark forbidding features was enough to convince Joanna that she would be wasting her time in trying to reason with him. Last night had been a moment out of time, a brief glimpse of the vulnerable man behind the mask.

But such a liberty was not to be repeated.

'Miss Seton!' He nodded politely as he closed the door and gestured to the chairs by the desk, where she and Anya normally worked. 'Sit down, won't you? This won't take long.'

Joanna hesitated, then, realising her ability to control her unsteady limbs might more easily be accomplished from the chair, she acquiesced, seating herself on the edge of the cus.h.i.+on, hands twisted tightly together in her lap. Jake did not sit down, however. He merely walked round to the other side of the desk, as if this gave him some sort of an advantage, and faced her with cool, uncompromising eyes.

'You know what I'm going to say, of course,' he remarked without preamble. 'I said as much-last night. Unfortunately, the rest of what happened yesterday evening was -unforgivable, and I think it's in the best interests of all of us if-if we curtail our a.s.sociation forthwith.'

Joanna's nails dug into her palms. 'Is that why you needed a drink so badly?' she asked, forcing an insolence she was far from feeling.

'Because you couldn't say what you had to say sober?'

'I'm sober now, Miss Seton!' Jake's jaw hardened instantly, but she was somewhat rea.s.sured by the vehemence of his reaction. 'I prefer not to discuss the events of last evening. I merely wish to obliterate them from my memory, and I wish you would do the same.'

Joanna looked up. 'Why?' Her lips parted. 'Were they so unpleasant?'

'Miss Seton -'

'You called me Joanna last night.'

'Miss Seton,' Jake flexed the muscles of his spine rather wearily, 'I do not propose to argue with you. Last night- last night I'd had too much to drink, as you say. This morning I'm rather more logical.'

Joanna got up from her chair. 'Don't you mean equivocal?' she countered, challenging him. 'You don't really want me to leave.

You're just afraid to let me stay. You're afraid I'll become too important to Anya-and to you!'

'That's lunacy!' His voice was harsh and grating now. 'For G.o.d's sake, what did you read into last night's little fiasco? All right, so I find you physically attractive-that's not so surprising, is it? You're a beautiful young woman, and don't pretend you're not aware of it, because I know you are. Perhaps I did find it difficult to put my feelings into words last evening, but have you thought why that might be so? Other than some great pa.s.sion you're presuming I feel for you?' He was being insolent now, and her limbs froze. 'Miss Seton, I'm a lonely man. I don't deny it.

Who could, living in these surroundings? The idea of dismissing you and starting again with someone else is not appealing, but better that than get involved in some futile, and dangerous, relations.h.i.+p.' When she would have defended herself, he made a silencing gesture and went on: 'Don't deny your behaviour has not been that of someone who imagines she holds a special position. You thought yourself indispensable.

Well, you're not, Miss Seton, and I am-dispensing with you.'

'Last night -'

'Oh, for the Lord's sake!' He gazed at her with impatient eyes.

'How many more times? Last night I wanted you. There you are, I admit it. But fortunately it didn't happen. Nothing happened. Put it down to experience. For a girl of your age and background, you could certainly use it.'

Joanna was pale now. 'What do you mean?'

His mouth curled. 'You know! You were shaking like a leaf when I carried you upstairs. You're just a baby, Miss Seton.

Stick to boys of your own age. You're not ready for the senior league.'

Her fingers stung across his cheek with more force than she had known herself capable. They tingled as she withdrew them, her eyes wide and anxious, waiting for his retaliation , but it didn't come. Not physically. that was.

'Collect your belongings, Miss Seton. I'll drive you to Penrith.

And please,' he put his hand to his scarred cheek, 'don't do that again. It hurts like the very devil!'

It was these words that hounded her all the way back to London.

She had not thought about his face when she delivered the blow. She had forgotten the vulnerability of grafted skin and bone, and she reviled herself utterly for striking him so forcefully.

And with these thoughts had come others, less obvious, but equally convincing. Had she possibly hurt him in other ways?

Had her immature attempts at seduction touched inner wounds, that his pride and arrogance were trying hard to conceal? The isolation of the man tore at her heart, and his complexity left her totally confused.

Leaving had been like tearing herself in half. Both Matt and Mrs Parrish had expressed genuine sorrow at her departure, but Anya, predictably, had not said goodbye. At the last moment, Joanna had considered appealing to him on the child's behalf, but one look at Jake's harsh features had deterred any such plea. He was right; she had brought this on herself. She had begun to consider her position inviolable, without realising that Jake was not like other men.

Because of the difficulties with Anya, she had imagined he would not dismiss her. But he had.

Yet, even now, she couldn't entirely believe it had happened.

It hardly seemed possible that less than twenty-four hours ago he had been holding her in his arms, making mad pa.s.sionate love to her.

But here she was, aboard the Euston express, without any realisable chance of ever seeing him again. It was impossible, it was incredible, it was soul- destroying.

The flat Aunt Lydia had found for her mother was in a tower block near Regent's Park. The rent was exorbitant, but Aunt Lydia had made herself responsible for that, and Mrs Seton had accepted the situation without question. Since her husband's death she tended to lean on anyone who offered a shoulder, and Lady Sutton was more capable than most of supporting her.

They had been friends since girlhood, and as Lord Sutton's death had left his widow very well provided for, she saw nothing out of the ordinary in aiding a friend in need.

A taxi dropped Joanna at the block of flats soon after seven o'clock that evening, and after exchanging a good evening with the doorman, she entered the lift and pressed the b.u.t.ton for the eighth floor. She hoped her mother was at home. She didn't have a key, and the idea of having to get the caretaker to open up the flat for her was not appealing in her fragile state of mind.

Gradually, as the day had worn on, and the distance between her and Ravengarth had increased, the full enormity of her position had struck her a numbing blow, and she dreaded the next few days and their inevitable aftermath.

The corridors leading to the flats were utilitarian, but the flats themselves were well lit and comfortable. Her mother's flat had two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, a living room, a dining room and a kitchen, and an attractive entrance hallway, split into lower' and upper levels.

Joanna rang the bell and waited impatiently, her case digging painfully into her fingers. She was irresistibly reminded of her arrival at Ravengarth, and her feelings then, but she refused to indulge herself in sentiment, and determinedly rang the bell again.

There was no one at home, that much became obvious after the fourth ring, and she sighed in frustration. She would have to go downstairs again and get the caretaker to open up, and her spirits sagged as she struggled back to the lifts.

A quarter of an hour later she closed the door behind the caretaker with a sigh of relief and dropped her case in the hall.

Then, pus.h.i.+ng open the door of the living room, she switched on the lights. The room was warm, indicating that its occupant had not been long away, and Joanna walked to the long windows and looked out on the lighted panorama of the city below her. The luxuriousness of her surroundings after the austerity she had been used to meant nothing to her, and she had to force herself to leave the window and her aching thoughts for the quiet elegance of her bedroom.

She was relaxing in a hot bath when the telephone rang, and at first she was tempted just to let it ring. But her conscience-and the fleeting antic.i.p.ation that it might conceivably be Jake-brought her out of the water, and wrapping a towel about her, she lifted the receiver beside her bed.

'Yes.'

There was silence for a moment, and then a cultivated, very English voice said: 'Joanna? Joanna, is that you?'

Joanna sighed. 'Yes, Aunt Lydia, it's me. Did you want Mummy?'

'I did, as a matter of fact,' agreed Lady Sutton dryly, 'but at this moment I'm more interested to hear why you're there.'

Joanna caught her lower lip between her teeth. 'I'm back,' she said, rather unnecessarily. 'I've-er- left Ravengarth.'

Her G.o.dmother made a sound of impatience. 'Don't be obtuse, Joanna. You know what I mean. Why have you left Ravengarth?

I understood from your mother that you and the child were proceeding quite successfully.'

Joanna hesitated. 'Situations change,' she said, trying to sound casual. 'And Mummy's out. Would you know where she might be?'

Lady Sutton was silent for a few moments, then she said firmly: 'I think you'd better come and have dinner with me, Joanna. We can't talk on the telephone, and I should be glad of your company.'

Joanna closed her eyes in dismay. 'Oh, really, Aunt Lydia, I -'

'Don't refuse, Joanna. As a matter of fact, I was going to write to you. About your mother.'

'Mummy?' Joanna's eyes opened wide now. 'Why? What is it?

Is something wrong? She's not ill, is she?'

'No more than usual,' replied her G.o.dmother dryly. 'Well, will you come? Don't bother to dress. We'll be quite informal.'

A slight bubble of hysteria surged inside Joanna. 'I think I'd better, Aunt Lydia,' she said, glancing down at her towel-clad figure.

'Dress, I mean. I'll be with you in-in an hour.'

'Make it half,' suggested Lady Sutton smoothly, and rang off before Joanna could protest.

She wore a woollen trouser suit, and put her sheepskin jacket over the top. With her hair loose and only the minimum amount of makeup she thought she looked absurdly young, and then decided that in the circ.u.mstances it was hardly likely to matter.