The Arrogant Duke (15 page)

Biting her lip, she leant forward again. 'The Hauser Reef Club,' she said coldly. 'You'd better hurry. I have to be there for three o'clock!'

'Do not give me orders,
senhorita
, or you may find yourself in even greater difficulties than you are at present!' he snapped, and Juliet felt suitably chastened. Despite her brittle words, she hated this, and she wished she could just have met her father without all this hateful antagonism.

The Hauser Reef Club was outside Bridgetown, on the coast, luxurious, opulent, standing in brilliantly colourful surroundings, its kidney-shaped swimming pool overhung by frangipani, jessamine and scarlet hibiscus.

Guests were accommodated in individual chalets in the grounds, each with its own special charm of surroundings, all within sight and sound of the sea. A large clubhouse accommodated the restaurant and nightclub, but meals could be served in guests' chalets if required.

As the Duque swung round the central forecourt, to halt before the colonnaded entrance, to the clubhouse, and Juliet slid swiftly out of the car, a tall, broad, middle-aged man came eagerly out of the swing doors, hastening down the steps to greet her. His dark hair, tinged with grey, his expression anxious, and maybe a few more lines to his forehead, were all so suddenly dearly familiar to Juliet, that words were unnecessary, and at his relieved cry of 'Juliet!' she ran across and was gathered closely into his arms. Only the harshly slammed door of the Duque's car, and his swift, wheel- churning departure, marred the moment for Juliet.

But then her father commandeered her thoughts, to the exclusion, for a while, of all else.

'My God!' he muttered, when at last he released her, only to place an arm about her shoulders. 'If you ever do that to me again…' He shook his head. 'What in hell do you think you're doing? When I got Maxwell's message I was practically at my wits' end!'

Juliet composed herself, and they walked across the exotically green lawns to Robert Lindsay's chalet. Once there, they seated themselves on the verandah, overlooking the creaming waters of the blue Caribbean, and a steward brought
daiquiris.
Juliet lit a cigarette, and relaxed a little, putting all thoughts but those concerning her father out of her mind.

'Now,' said Robert Lindsay, after he had lit himself a cigar, seating himself closely beside her, as though afraid 'she might suddenly disappear again in a puff of smoke. 'What's going on?'

Juliet ran a finger along a pleat in her skirt. 'Well, Daddy,
you know perfectly well what's going on. I got myself a job.'

Robert Lindsay studied his daughter's bent head. 'Why?'

'Do we have to go into all that again? I've told you time and again, I want some independence. All my life you've made every decision there was to be made about my life. You've chosen my schools, my friends; you were even in the process of choosing my husband! Good lord, can't you see how terrible for me that is?'

Her father frowned. 'Juliet,' he said heavily, 'in this world, there are only two kinds of people: the winners and the losers! I'm - well, I won't say lucky enough, because I don't consider what I have achieved I have achieved by luck, but I will say I'm in that lucky bracket of being one of the winners!'

'Oh, Dad!'

'What's wrong now?'

'This is the same argument you always make! Heavens, life's not as simple as that! Some of the winners, or people you would call winners anyway, aren't winners at all, they're losers! And vice versa. You judge everything on a purely monetary basis! That's why you won't let me choose my own friends. You think that if people are financially inferior, they're socially inferior. It just isn't true!'

'Well, go on. We'll agree to differ on that point,' said Robert Lindsay, chewing his cigar. 'We're drifting from the point anyway. Why did you go to such lengths to hide what you were doing?'

'Oh, come on!' Juliet stared at him incredulously. 'You know why I hid what I was doing! Because if I'd told you - or rather, asked you - you would have ridiculed the whole business.'

'So instead you chose to ridicule me!'

Juliet compressed her lips, lifting her shoulders helplessly. 'Oh, Dad, it wasn't like that! I only wanted to be able to do what I wanted for a change. I wanted a job, to be able to say I
earned
that money, it wasn't just given to me, by
you
! How would you like to have to ask for everything you wanted, and only have it granted if the person you were asking thought it was the right thing for you!'

'I am your father!' he muttered gruffly.

'I know that! But I'm twenty-one, Dad. Not some sixteen-year-old; without any sense of values. I have a sense of values. I know what is worthwhile in this world, and what is not! I know that I've achieved something as a person - as a human being, if you like - by doing what I've done.'

Robert Lindsay rose to his feet, and paced about the verandah floor, sometimes studying her, and sometimes studying the floor at his feet.

'You realize what a shock this has been to Mandy, of course.'

Juliet sighed. 'Of course. Oh, Daddy, stop trying to make me feel a heel. Do you think I don't feel one , already?' Then she looked up at him squarely. 'But I must tell you, I didn't get in touch with you because I wanted to. I got in touch with you because of the way you're catechizing Rosemary and her parents!'

'The Summers?' Robert Lindsay snorted angrily. 'That girl - that Rosemary - she knew where you were all right.'

'Yes, she did. But she would never have told you. That's the sort of person she is! She has integrity! A quality neither one of us possess in any great measure!'

'You're talking drivel!' exclaimed her father impatiently. 'Where does integrity get you in this world? I'll tell you - nowhere!'

'In your world, maybe,' said Juliet quietly. 'But in the world I'm discovering for myself, it exists all right. There are actually people who don't use dollar or pound or franc or deutschmark in every sentence they compose. Who don't care whether this or that company has gained or lost on the stock market; who don't
use
people!'

Robert Lindsay stopped his pacing. 'I never knew you hated me so much,' he said heavily.

Juliet clasped her hands. 'I don't hate you!' she exclaimed vehemently. 'Daddy, I love you. And for all that I've been terrified that you would find me before I was ready to let you find me, I've missed you! Not all the time perhaps, not always consciously, but when I saw you today, now, standing on the steps of the clubhouse, I didn't know how I'd had the courage to make the break!'

Her father's expression lightened, and he went down on his haunches before her, taking both of her hands in his. 'Juliet, Juliet,' he muttered huskily, 'do you know why I do what I do? Do you know why I fight every rival that comes my way, why I attempt to destroy every company that threatens our livelihood? I do it all for
you.
Yes, you, baby! My baby! The only living memory I have of the dearest and gentlest wife a man could ever have!'

Juliet felt the hot tears pricking at her eyes. Even while he was protesting his love, and that love was real, she knew that, she was afraid; afraid that this was all some devious, calculated method of gaining her confidence yet again. They had had rows before, plenty of rows, and always her father knew instinctively the best and most successful way to win his own way.

With an immense effort, she contained her tears, and said:

'I'm not going back, Daddy. Not yet, anyway.
^'

Robert Lindsay rose immediately to his feet, releasing her hands, and lifting his drink swallowed half of it at a gulp.

'Do you think I'll let you stay?' he said quietly, but ominously.

Juliet shrugged her shoulders. 'You can't stop me.'

'So you fondly imagine.
^'

Juliet pressed the palms of her hands against her hot cheeks. This was what she had feared. The usual pattern, explanations, recriminations, pleading, and finally — attack!

She smoked her cigarette. She would not allow him to hear the tremble in her voice. She would not give him the chance to undermine what small defences she might have. The only way to defeat such implacability was by being calm, and cool, and composed.

Gathering her composure about her, she said calmly: 'How is Mandy, anyway?'

Her father shrugged his broad shoulders. 'She's well,
^'
he said shortly.

Juliet felt a moment's half-hysterical amusement. She had expected him to express Miss Manders as being grief-stricken at the very least.

She continued to smoke her cigarette, and at last he turned. 'Damn you, Juliet, you won't make a fool out of me!'

Juliet bent her head, and did not reply.

'Where are you working? Who is employing you? What are you doing?' The questions came sharp and fast.

Again Juliet did not reply.

Her father became really angry then. 'Do you imagine that by seeing me you'll have assuaged any anger I might feel against your friends the Summers?' he muttered furiously.

Juliet looked up. 'What do you mean by that?
^'

'I mean that if you thwart me, if you escape to this island retreat of yours, wherever it might be, and I have to return to London alone, you'll have made things worse and not better for them!'

Juliet's hurt resentment almost choked her. So much for the lovable, more sinned against than sinning parent of a few minutes ago. How could he? How could he?

She drank some of her
daiquiri
, aware of his eyes upon her, and then looked up at him with eyes swimming with unshed tears.

'If you attempt to interrogate the Summers, or make their lives impossible by some devious method you might find, then the whole sorry story will be told to the papers, and you know what a beanfeast they'll make out of it !'

'As you're so fond of telling me, the Summers have integrity,
^'
retorted her father sarcastically. 'They wouldn't do such a dastardly thing !
^'

Juliet got unsteadily to her feet. 'No, perhaps not. But I would!
^'

Her father stared at her in amazement, and then an unwilling light of admiration lit his harsh features.

'Damn you, Juliet, I believe you would !
^'
he muttered in astonishment.

'Make no mistake about it!
^'
said Juliet unevenly. 'I'm
your
daughter, remember?
^'

Robert Lindsay stubbed out his cigar, and lit another.

'And you're not going to tell me where you
^'
re staying?
^'

'No.
^'

'Why? What if I agree to let you stay if you tell me?
^'

Juliet wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. 'Integrity is a dirty word to you,
^'
she said. 'Do you think I could trust you?
^'

'You might try.'

'No, thanks.
^'
She lifted her handbag. 'Are you going to let me go?
^'

'Do I hrfve any choice?
^'

'Not really. I meant what I said.'

'I know you did.
^'
He sighed heavily. 'When will you come home?
^'

Juliet bent her head, shaking it. 'I don't know. Maybe soon - maybe not. Have I still got a home to come back to?
^'

'In spite of everything, you mean? Of course. You're my daughter, Juliet, and a damn fine one, I suppose, only I'm too bloody pig-headed to see it. All right, I admit it. I want to run your life. I want to approve of the man you'll eventually marry. Is that so bad?'

'In moderation, no. But nothing with you is in moderation. You do everything on the grand scale.'

'So I can tell all your friends back in London that they need have no aspirations in your direction?'

'If you mean boy-friends, yes, you can safely tell them that.'

Her father shook his head. 'What is it you're searching for, Juliet?'

She shrugged her slim shoulders. 'I don't really know.'

He gave a heavy sigh. 'I only hope you do know what you're doing. I'd hate to see you get into a situation that you couldn't handle. There are plenty of men in the world, just waiting for the opportunity to meet someone like you.'

'I'm not naive, Dad. I do know about the birds and the bees, you know.'

'Maybe, maybe. All right, Juliet, go your own way, But remember, I'll always be there, if ever you need me.
^'

In the taxi going back to Bridgetown, Juliet kept glancing back, out of the rear window, assuring herself she was not being followed, but the road at that hour of the afternoon was deserted.

Relaxing in her seat, she found other problems crowding her mind. Most prominent of all, that of the Duque de Castro. During lunch, she had tentatively suggested that she met them back at the hotel for afternoon tea at five o'clock, but after the Duque's incensed departure, she was not certain he would be there. However, after paying the taxi-driver, a glance in the hotel car-park confirmed that the Duque was in the building, and she walked through the wide entrance hall looking about her with some trepidation.

Eventually, a word to the receptionist informed her that the Duque and his niece were having tea in the hotel lounge, and she entered the high-ceilinged room on rather unsteady legs, making her way towards them very nervously. Despite her calm departure from her father, she still felt strung up, and unready for any more verbal battles with anyone.

Teresa smiled at her arrival, and said: 'You're late,
senhorita
. It's already five-fifteen!'

Juliet managed a smile in return, trying to ignore the Duque's forbidding countenance. 'Am I? I'm sorry. The traffic. ...' She allowed the sentence to trail away into nothingness.

The Duque, who had risen at her arrival, indicated that she should sit down, and gladly she did so, while he summoned the waiter for more tea.

'No - really—' began Juliet, only to be silenced by the cold glance he cast in her direction.

Teresa for her part seemed completely aware of the antagonism between her guardian and her companion, and Juliet wondered what construction she would place upon it.