Wild Entrantress Part 11

'Are you?' He seemed curiously unconvinced.

'What are you doing here?' she protested, trying to prop herself up on her elbows, but finding the effort too much for her.

Jared glanced over his shoulder at Laura, and a strange expression crossed his face. 'I was- concerned about you,' he muttered half angrily. He stared down at her. Do you need a doctor?'

She realised what he meant, and the ridiculousness of it all brought tears of frustration to her eyes. She moved her head slowly from side to side, feeling the dampness on her cheeks.

'Oh, G.o.d, Catherine!' Jared cast another grim look in Laura's direction. 'You know what I mean.'

'Yes, I know what you mean,' she mumbled, 'but no! I don't need anything.'

Jared expelled his breath on an angry sigh. 'All right, all right!

We'll leave you.' He indicated that Laura should precede him to the door. 'I'll get Susie to fetch you some aspirin.'

'It's probably the heat,' remarked Laura complacently, and Catherine was amazed at her lack of perception. Or was it a lack? She could never be sure now.

'The heat!' Jared's harsh echo of her words was barely audible.

'You're sure you'll be all right?'

'I've said so!' Catherine nodded jerkily, just wanting to be alone.

'I think you should tell Elizabeth,' he added, and they both knew to what he was referring.

'There's nothing to tell!' she retorted tearfully, and turned her face into the pillow. Let him make what he liked of that!

She must have slept because when she opened her eyes, Susie was sitting beside the bed, idly folding pleats into her starched ap.r.o.n. She smiled when she saw that Catherine was awake, and got up to lean over her.

'You're feeling better?'

Catherine lifted her wrist and tried to concentrate on her watch.

'What time is it?'

'Three-thirty.'

'Three-thirty!' Catherine was horrified. 'Have I slept for more than three hours?'

'Yes, miz,' Susie nodded.

'I-' Catherine hesitated. 'Where is- everyone?'

Susie frowned. 'There's only you here right now, Miz Fulton.

Miz Royal, she phoned to say she was having lunch at the Prentiss house, and Mr Royal, he left over an hour ago.'

'And-and Miss Prentiss?'

'She stay a few minutes after Mr Royal leave, and then she says she's going, too.'

Catherine absorbed this. 'Where-where did- Mr Royal go?'

she asked, realising her weakness for doing so.

'I think he went back to the beach house, Miz Fulton. I don't really know. He don't tell anybody. He just leave.'

Catherine struggled up on to her elbows. 'Well, you can go now, Susie. I'll be fine.'

Susie looked doubtful. 'Mr Royal, he say you shouldn't be left alone. Not today, leastways.'

Tears p.r.i.c.ked at Catherine's eyes at this fleeting glimpse of Jared's sense of responsibility towards her. But she managed to blink them back, and swung her feet to the floor.

'Honestly, Susie, it-it must just have been a touch of the sun.

I-feel quite all right now.'

'You sure?'

Catherine nodded, and the girl moved reluctantly towards the door. But after she had gone, it was simpler to acknowledge weakness, and Catherine bent her head into her hands. Of course, it was too much sun which had upset her-that, and the violence of the emotions Jared had aroused inside her. But she doubted that Jared would ever believe it. And who could blame him? She wondered if he had asked Laura to stay until she woke. Was that why Laura had left after he did? Had the girl chosen this way to show a spark of independence?

With a sigh, Catherine tried to get up from the bed. But to her dismay, her legs buckled under her and she was obliged to crawl back on to the pillows, feeling more alone than she had ever done in her whole life.

In fact, she spent three days in bed.

When Elizabeth returned home and discovered what had happened, she was not to be deterred from calling a doctor. The dark-skinned physician gave Catherine a thorough examination and then p.r.o.nounced the opinion that she had developed a mild attack of sunstroke. He insisted on at least forty-eight hours' bed rest in a darkened room, and Catherine was certainly too weak to argue with him. But there was no pleasure lying alone with her thoughts, and as her strength gradually returned, she longed to escape from this house which had become a kind of prison to her.

Laura called to see her on her second day in bed. As expected, she made no reference to the events precipitating Catherine's illness, and instead talked incessantly about the plans for the wedding. Catherine wondered if Laura realised what she was doing, and decided that she probably did. She appeared to live life at a very shallow, level, and anything likely to disturb the surface calm was deliberately ignored. Listening to her describe her ideas for the bridesmaids' dresses, Catherine was dismayed at the pain she was inflicting, and in her weakness it wasn't easy to hide her feelings. Perhaps Laura knew this, she thought bitterly.

There was more than one way of seeking revenge.

Elizabeth was a little more subtle in her approach. Her concern, she said, was that Catherine should be well enough to attend the party the Prentisses were giving in a week's time. It would be a shame, she exclaimed, if Catherine couldn't be there to share in the fun.

Marion Prentiss sent her a bouquet of roses and her wishes for her speedy recovery. Everyone was being very kind, but Catherine doubted their sincerity. All of these women had their own reasons for wis.h.i.+ng her well, but they were not the simple ones they alleged.

On the fourth day after her collapse, Catherine was well enough to get up and sit in an armchair on her balcony. The breeze blowing off the Atlantic brought the smell of salt strongly to her nostrils, and she could taste its sharpness against her skin. The morning sun gave the ocean a coral tinge, glinting off the breakers that thundered their way sh.o.r.eward.

The sound of a car coming up the drive was an intrusion on the quiet air. Earlier only the sounds of the insects among the flowers and the occasional plop of a fly hitting the surface of the pool had disturbed the stillness, but the drone of the engine was increasing rapidly.

Then the engine was cut off and a car door slammed. Catherine's nerves tensed. Who could it be? Laura, most likely, she conceded with a sigh. She hadn't been over the day before, so she could be expected to put in an appearance.

Then there was a tap at her bedroom door. She turned her head.

'Come in!' she called, her eyes widening when Susie came into the room instead of Jared's fiancee.

Susie looked flushed. 'You've a visitor, Miz Fulton,' she exclaimed hurriedly. 'Mr Dexter. He's asked to see you.'

'John Dexter?' Catherine's relief was ludicrous. 'Oh, yes, yes, I'd like to see him.' She looked down doubtfully at her blue silk dressing robe. 'But not like this. Will you ask him to give me five minutes, and I'll come down.'

'Oh, but Miz Fulton, do you think you ought?' Susie was concerned. 'Miz Royal, she said you'd be staying in your room today.'

'I'm all right, Susie,' Catherine exclaimed impatiently, and then gave a sheepish smile, remembering the other occasion she had said the same. 'All right, I know I said that before, but I mean it this time. Look!' She rose to her feet and did a light pirouette.

'There-does that rea.s.sure you?'

Susie still looked doubtful. 'Well, would you like me to help you downstairs?'

'I'm not an old lady, Susie! No. Go on, tell Mr Dexter, I won't be long.'

It didn't take long to rinse her face and hands and put on some panties and a soft jersey tunic. The cream silk skirt swung softly against her legs, and it was good to feel normal again. John was waiting in the parlour, and she was satisfied with her appearance when he showed his evident admiration.

'What's this I hear about you having sunstroke?' he demanded, by way of a greeting, and she relaxed completely.

'Just a mild attack.,' she conceded smilingly. 'But what are you doing here? And how did you find out?'

'I had dinner with some friends of the Prentisses last evening.

Your name was mentioned. I'd have come sooner if I'd known.

You haven't returned any of my telephone calls,' he added reproachfully.

Catherine sighed, sinking down on to a low couch. 'I haven't really had much opportunity.'

'Don't give me that!' John pulled a face at her. 'So-how are you?'

Catherine couldn't resist it. 'How do I look?'

'Marvellous,' returned John steadily. 'Are you going to the party on Friday?'

Catherine shrugged her slim shoulders. 'I don't know. That depends.'

'On what?'

Catherine looked up at him. 'Are you going?'

'Is that an invitation?'

She laughed. 'No. I'm just asking.'

'I'll go-if I can escort you.'

'Oh, John!' She looked at him gratefully. 'You're so good for my ego.'

He came down on the couch beside her then, taking one of her hands in both of his. 'I could be more than that, Catherine. Do you realise, I've thought of you more than any girl I've ever met?

Have you thought about me?'

Catherine tried to disentangle her fingers, but he wouldn't let her.

She could hardly admit that since the night of the party she had thought of no one but Jared.

'John,' she murmured protestingly. 'Don't- don't try to rush things. Give it time...'

'But it's never hit me like this before,' he told her urgently, his eyes searching her face. 'I've known dozens of girls, I'll admit it, but never one like you.'

'Oh, John!' Catherine felt frustrated. She needed him, but as a friend, not a lover!

'Am I intruding?'

Jared strode unsmilingly into the room, and if he was intruding, he obviously had no intention of withdrawing. Catherine was shocked. She had not heard his arrival, and she wondered what he was doing here. Had he finished the commission? Or was this just another visit? In close-fitting suede pants and a matching black s.h.i.+rt, he was more formally dressed at least.

John rose awkwardly to his feet, but Catherine remained where she was on the couch, concentrating her attention on her hands, now clasped together in her lap. She wondered how much of their conversation he had over-heard, and what interpretation he had put on that.

'h.e.l.lo, Jared!' John greeted him politely. I didn't know you were here. I understood you were working down at the beach house.'

'Did you?' Jared's voice was chilling. 'And who told you that?'

'Why, Laura, as a matter of fact. I saw her a few days ago at the clubhouse.'

Jared inclined his head. 'I see.' Then he s.h.i.+fted his attention to Catherine. 'Ought you to be out of bed?'

His scathing tone caught her on the raw, and she looked up at him angrily. 'I'm not an invalid!'

'But you have been ill,' he corrected her coldly, holding her gaze.

'I heard something about-sunstroke?'

'That's right.'

His scepticism was denigrating. 'Really?'

Catherine bent her head. She had sampled his particular brand of cruelty before, but she had never been so vulnerable.

'Catherine's had a pretty rough time, so I hear.' John was quaintly gallant in her defence, an unusual role for him, she guessed. 'Too much sun can be pretty nasty!'

'I'm sure.'

Jared had taken up a stance in front of the screened stone fireplace, and it was obvious from his manner that he had no intention of leaving them alone again.

John, sensing this, looked regretfully down at Catherine. 'Well, I suppose I'd better be going. I don't want to tire you on your first day out of bed.'

'You're not tiring me, John,' she protested, getting to her feet, but Jared chose to differ.

'I think Dexter's right,' he remarked, moving to press the bell by the door. 'You mustn't- overdo it.'

Catherine turned her back on him. 'It was nice of you to call, John-and about that party you mentioned. ..'

'Yes?' John looked at her eagerly.