Love Drives In (9 page)

"Goodnight," he called hurriedly over his shoulder.

"Goodnight, my Lord," the sergeant replied, adding under his breath,

"And I wouldn't be in your shoes for all the tea in China."

"Not a word," the Earl told her when they were in the street. "You can say it all to me when we get home."

"I never wish to speak to you again," she told him bitterly. "Not when we get home, not tomorrow, not ever. As far as I'm concerned
you do not exist
."

Unwisely he attempted to joke.

"Well, somebody nearly dislocated my jaw."

"Look there's a cab," he said, hastily, waving with relief to an approaching vehicle.

They got in and sat side by side for the journey to Grosvenor Square. Now and then the Earl turned his head to look at Dorina, but she sat, stony-faced, staring into space, refusing to give him so much as a glance.

"I only want you to know that I'm sorry," he said.

Silence. In the dim light he could just see her set her chin a little more firmly.

"It was all my fault, the whole thing."

Silence.

After a journey that seemed to take forever they finally reached his home. It was the Earl's habit to tell his staff not to wait up for him if he was going to be late. Now, he saw with relief that the house was in darkness, save for the light that was left on in the hall. At least they would have privacy for the volcanic quarrel that was about to ensue.

Once the front door was closed behind them, Dorina headed for the stairs, but he stopped her.

"We must talk about this first, Dorina."

"I have nothing to say."

"Well, I have. Surely you can at least listen while I apologise?"

He drew her into the library, closed the door firmly behind them and lit one of the low table lamps. It provided a very imperfect light, but in the dramatic shadows, with her eyes flashing, he thought she looked magnificent.

"Apologise?" she said fiercely. "Do you think any apology can make up for what you did to me?"

"What I – ? Wait a moment,
you
punched
me,
when there was no need."

"I slipped," he said tensely. "You caught me by surprise."

"Surprise? You were surprised that I rounded on you after you dared to take me to that – that – ?"

"The Alhambra is a theatre, and like all theatres it gets less salubrious the higher you go. Ladies know to stay in the stalls, where they're safe."

"Are you saying that I'm not a lady?" she flung at him.

He drew a sharp breath. This was going dreadfully wrong. He wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg her forgiveness. He wanted to take her in his arms and promise to care for her forever. But it was turning into a quarrel.

"Please, Dorina, I didn't mean – "

"You will address me as Miss Martin, when you address me at all, which won't be for much longer. And don't talk nonsense about the Alhambra being like other theatres, because it definitely is not – which you must have known perfectly well."

"It's a little more extreme than some," he agreed, "but it's still a place where a respectable man can take a respectable woman, as long as she observes the boundaries."

"And just what are your boundaries, my Lord?" Dorina asked in a dangerous voice.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do. You have a dividing line in your mind, don't you? On one side are the ladies of delicate sensibilities whose virtue must be protected, and whom you would never dream of taking to the Alhambra.

"On the other side there are the women of the world, respectable but rather more knowing. Women like Lady Musgrove, and Elsie – and
me."

"Dorina – Miss Martin – "

"Lady Musgrove," Dorina went on remorselessly. "A woman of so little delicacy that she pursues you to your home as no lady would ever do. But perhaps I shouldn't blame her, since you must have given her some cause for such confidence.

"And the same goes for Elsie, who writes you such passionate letters. Again, no doubt she feels she has reason. Just as you must feel you have reason to show them so little respect.

"But me? What excuse have I given you to insult me? I'm a working woman and have to live in the world. I have no father or brothers to protect me. Is that reason enough? Yes, I suppose it would be for a hardened womaniser."

"I don't think that's very – "

"I had not finished speaking," Dorina informed him in arctic tones.

"Then kindly don't call me a hardened womaniser."

"After the insults you have offered me tonight, I consider it a fairly mild return," she seethed.

"I never meant to insult you, and if you think I'm a hardened womaniser, all I can is that you've never known one. And if it's an insult for me to call you my fiancée – "

"That was the worst," Dorina declared on a sob. "And if you think that I should be flattered, then let me make it plain to you that
I would sooner proclaim my betrothal to a
python."

Shocked, they stared at each other.

The Earl recovered first.

"Thank you," he snapped. "You have made yourself perfectly plain, although why a python I do not understand."

"It was the worst thing I could think of," Dorina said bitterly. "You had no right to say any such thing about me, without my consent."

"I was trying to impress that policeman with your status, because he thought you were a – a – "

"
I know what he thought I was.
I understood exactly what the police thought when they hauled me away in a van along with five other women. The others thought it terribly funny. They said I'd get used to it in time – "

Her voice broke and a wail came from her. She had kept up a fighting front until now, but suddenly her courage ran out and she sat down on the sofa, burying her face in her hands and sobbing as though her heart would break.

Aghast, the Earl flung himself on his knees beside her.

"Please, please Dorina, I'm sorry. Please don't cry. It was entirely my fault."

He tried to take her into his arms but she threw him off.

"Don't touch me," she wept. "I shall never forgive you for tonight as long as I live."

"And I don't deserve to be forgiven. I should never have taken you there, but I merely thought you'd enjoy a little forbidden excitement like – "

He was going to say, 'like other women I've known' but stopped himself in time. Dorina had been right in saying that Elsie and Lady Musgrove enjoyed going to the Alhambra, where they could burn their fingers just a little, then retreat in safety.

But he saw now that he should never have confused Dorina with such creatures who, for all their titles and aristocratic pretensions, had much in common with the goodtime girls of the Alhambra.

"I was wrong, terribly wrong," he said, shame-faced. "But please, darling, say you'll forgive me, and we can start again."

"No, you mustn't leave. I want to make things right."

She shook her head in vigorous denial, but he would not accept it. Her hands were still covering her face and he gently reached up and drew them down.

"It was all my fault," he whispered. "I'll never forgive myself – even if you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

"I can't," she said huskily. "I'll never, never forget tonight."

Distraught, he did not know what to say. He only knew that the sight of her with her hair falling about her shoulders, tears streaming down her face, affected him as nothing ever had in his life before.

"Dorina," he whispered, "Dorina – "

But her sobs did not cease, and comforting her became the most important thing in the world.

Forgetting everything except the bewildering sensation in his heart, he reached out to put his arms round her, pulling her against him.

A number of men had kissed her cheek after they had had an enjoyable dance. But she had never been kissed on the lips before.

As the Earl's lips held hers captive, she felt something very strange within her heart, something different from anything she had ever felt before.

She wondered how such a sensation could exist without her discovering it until now. It seemed to fill all the world.

She was possessed by a strange sweet feeling, warm and exciting. She wanted this closeness to go on forever. She longed to be even closer to him, lips to lips and heart to heart.

She began to reach for him, meaning to put her arms about him.

But something stopped her.

It was as though a cold hand had descended on her shoulder, warning her to pull back, reminding her how easily he did this, how practised he seemed.

Images of the Alhambra swirled through her head. Those young women she had seen tonight, with careless manners and fashionable clothes so like her own!

Why had he taken her to that risqué place? Was it to break down her defences and create the right mood for seduction?

"No," she cried, struggling free. "No, let me go."

"I'll never let you go," he said hoarsely. "Please Dorina, let's put this behind us. There's so much I – "

But she freed herself and ran to the door.

"Don't talk to me," she cried. "Don't try to find me. Don't even think of me again."

In her mind was the torturing memory of how nearly she had succumbed to his embrace only a few moments ago. She hated and despised him, yet his kiss – cynical though she knew it to be – had sent her into ecstasies.

She was horrified at herself. After this she would go right away and never again think of anything but piston engines. At least in them she would find safety.

The Earl watched her in despair. Just at the moment when he had begun to understand how vital she was to him, he was losing her forever. He reached for her again, but she thrust him away.

Her arms were made strong by desperation and her push was hard enough to send him back hard against the door jamb. He let out a groan as the wood struck his head at exactly the same point where he'd received the earlier blow.

"Ouch!" he cried.

Dorina froze.

"What is it?" she asked, trying not to sound as anxious as she felt.

"Nothing, I – "

Suddenly the Earl fell silent as he realised how close he had come to throwing away his best chance.

"It – it's nothing," he said quickly. "Just my head."

"You hardly banged your head at all," she said, suspicious, but not moving away from him.

"Not this time, but before – when you punched me to the floor at the Alhambra. I hit my head on the pillar and it knocked me out for a moment. But it's all right now."

He finished with a melancholy groan and sat down, holding his head.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said in a faltering voice. "Besides, I didn't punch you to the floor. You slipped. You said so."

"That's right, I did. It was my own fault. Don't worry about me."

She dropped down beside him, frowning and saying uneasily,

"I don't like to think of you being really hurt."

"I thought that was what you wanted."

"Of course not. I just – I'm sending for the doctor."

"I don't want to trouble him," he said bravely.

"But you can't take any chances," Dorina cried. "You might have a terrible injury to your head. I didn't mean any of those things I said – well, I did, but – oh, I don't know what I'm saying."

"It doesn't matter now. I'm sorry about everything. I'll just go up to bed. Perhaps – perhaps you could help me."

She shot him a quick look, full of renewed suspicion. His eyes met hers, as innocent as a baby's.

"I do not trust you, my Lord," Dorina said slowly.

"How can you not trust me?" he complained. "You nearly killed me."

"You're a heartless woman."

A faint smile touched her lips, but she suppressed it instantly.

"Let me help you," she offered.

She was forced to let him slip an arm around her shoulders as they made their way slowly upstairs as far as his door. There was something strangely sweet about the feel of his weight, half leaning on her.

She was uncertain what to believe. She had been shocked at herself for throwing a punch at him in the Alhambra, and even more shocked at his fall, although she had realised even then that it had been mostly accidental.

She knew he had struck his head, and had been dazed for long enough for her to be hauled away. But how serious was it? She was no fool. It was clear that he had thrown himself on her mercy now, as a way of keeping her here. He was hardly pretending otherwise. But behind the pretence, might he not really be hurt?