The Youngest Bridesmaid (17 page)

When they reached harbor he lifted her on to the jetty, holding her for a moment against him before setting her down. Young Sam Smale, idling at the water

s edge with a couple of the older men, began gathering up the flowers and fruit, posing, Lou saw with amusement, in innocent awareness of the picturesque effect he created, glancing at her under his lashes to see if she noticed. She had never much cared for Sam, who, basking in Tibby

s favor, would shirk whatever chores he had no taste for, but today she knew an assurance which
c
ould match his own, and smiled upon him obligingly. So perfect was this delicate promise of fulfilment that even when one of the fishermen remarked that the weather was on the change, she refused to believe that anything could spoil the halcyon day.


Oh, surely not!

she exclaimed, her e
y
es on the calm sea and cloudless sky, but Piers, pausing to sniff the wind, said the man was a good weather prophet and was probably right.


Break by morning,

the fisherman affirmed, and went off to see to his nets.

They walked up to the house, followed by Sam, making Lou thought, a strange, colorful little procession, flowers strewing in their wake because there were too many to manage in one armful. She wanted to stop and pick them up, unwilling to leave them there to die, but Piers seemed impatient to get to the house.


You won

t miss them. What are a few flowers, anyway?

he said with the careless indifference of a man who could afford to buy
up an entire f
l
orist

s shop and replace them if necessary on the morrow.


Shall you mind if the storms come?

he asked, sounding gay and a little provocative.

We might find ourselves cut off, you know.

He did not speak very seriously, but his eyes were suddenly a little anxious, and her heart lifted. To be cut off from the mainland with a husband at
last embracing the mood of a lover could only be a blessing and a delight.


No, Piers, I shan

t mind at all,

she replied with polite restraint, but her voice was as gay as his and she could laugh with real amusement at Tibby coming to meet them with a nursery air of outrage at the evidence of such wanton extravagance.


What game are you playing now, Piers, I should like to know?

she demanded.


Tis carrying make-believe too far to go squandering good money on lovers

nonsense. Rune

s no place for fancy frills.


The money happens to be mine, and the make-
b
elieve is possibly yours, and my wife

s entitled to as many fancy frills as she may desire,

Piers retorted, and the old woman

s suspicious glance went swiftly from him to Lou, quick to register the subtle change in both of them. Her spleen for once turned on Sam
,
carrying the flowers into the hall, and turning with smiling expectation to catch an admiring glance from her.


Don

t come cluttering up my clean kitchen with that trash, Sam Smale,

she snapped.

And if you fancy yourself standing there like a cissy, I for one can think of better ways for a man to look.

Sam lost his air of childish vanity and merely appeared sheepish, and Piers said with unusual forbearance:


Now, Tibby, don

t be so churlish, you old faggot! Flowers don

t grow much on Rune, as you should know. Mrs. Merrick will enjoy arranging them. Put them down here, Sam.


If you

re laying in for a siege, it would have been better to have bought supplies. Weather

s on the change, they say,

Tibby sniffed, but Lou noticed that for all her scorn, the woman

s bleak eyes softened in spite of herself as they rested on the glowing pile of color heaped on the stone flags.


I

ll arrange a special bowl of the best ones for your kitchen,

Lou said, and saw, for the first time, an unwilling flash of pleasure in the woman

s face before, with another sniff, she retired to the kitchen quarters from where smells of baking bread and
toasting scones had wafted invitingly before the dividing door was closed. It was the hour for tea and relaxation before the evening began, and, despite the familiar antagonism which Tibby, and even the bare, monastic house exuded, Lou felt she had come home.

She ran upstairs to change her dress, aware that the day held a new significance, that she must meet her husband more than halfway, and, holding fast to this strange new thread which had been woven between them, match his demands with hers. After tea she would arrange her flowers, decking all the rooms with color and gaiety, piling the fruit in glowing pyramids, abandoning herself to the hitherto unknown luxury of such abundance and the promise it surely contained.

Piers sat watching her at this occupation when, the tea things cleared away, she darted in and out of the rooms with bowls and vases and every receptacle she could lay hands on. He thought how charming she looked with her soft hair flying and her skirts twirling as she sped with such earnest concentration from one flower arrangement to another. It was, he reflected with unfamiliar humility, a little chastening to discover how much delight could be given by so careless an impulse. The costly presents he had bought in the past, with no more thought than this, had received less appreciation, and he realized with faint surprise how much he must have missed of the pleasures of a life which had been too easy and too superficial to admit the simple things. Only Rune with its bare essentials and its privacy had satisfied that unrecognized v
o
id in him, and now this child whom he had married so wantonly, so casually, was beginning to lay the same spell on him, had, indeed, already moved him to honesty when he had told her that very first day that she could be something that he needed.


Lou—come here,

he said aloud, and at the odd urgency in his voice she dropped the flowers she held in her hands and ran across the room to him.


What is it?

she asked, and was aware when he did not immediately reply that the wind was rising. It was rather pleasant, she thought inconsequentially, to become acquainted again with the proper seasons of the year, after the freakish calm of those days and nights on the island.


What do you really think of me?

he asked unexpectedly, pulling her down to perch on the arm of his chair, and she stiffened uneasily, conscious that the wrong answer could wreck that new-found felicity between them.


I—I don

t know you very well yet,

she temporised warily.

We

re—only acquaintances still, aren

t we?

His arm tightened about her waist.


Yes, my honest Lou, we

re only acquaintances. We must remedy that, musn

t we?

he said.


I don

t always know how,

she said simply, so afraid that she might be found wanting, and he looked up at her with an expression of tender apology.


No, of course you don

t,

he said.

It should be my job to break down barriers.


Some went today, don

t you think?


Yes, I think so. But you make me feel ashamed that such treats can please you. I shall so enjoy taking you on a real shopping spree—buying you diamonds, furs—all the extravagant fripperies that women dream about. That

s the only real pleasure money brings.


I don

t think I

ve ever coveted diamonds, and I have furs, although they weren

t really meant for me,

she replied with her usual considered truthfulness, and he laughed.


Melissa

s cast-offs have rankled, haven

t they?


Not really—besides, they

re all new and terribly expensive. It

s just that—well, I felt I wasn

t me any more.


Poor Cinderella—that was thoughtless of me, wasn

t it? Never mind, that can all be put right later. In the meantime you can wear those rather fetching slacks and whatnot we found today and discover yourself again. Kiss me, Lou. I don

t think you ever have of your own accord.


You don

t do much kissing yourself, come to that,

she observed prosaically, but she leaned over him obediently, and as her lips touched his she experienced an unselfconscious desire to explore, and dropped light caresses on his eyelids, his cheekbones, the sharp ridge of his nose, until he pulled her down into his arms and held her close.

She lay there contentedly after her pulses had ceased to race so wildly, and stared drowsily over his shoulder to the darkness outside the uncurtained windows. The familiar lights from the harbor cottages showed palely, a brighter, moving beam flashed on the water, and she caught the faint sound of an engine.


There

s a launch putting in to the harbor,

she said idly.


Extra supplies of booze in case the weather turns nasty, most likely,

he replied, and relinquished her reluctantly as she remembered her forgotten flowers and struggled out of his arms.

P
resently he left her to it and repaired to his study for an hour

s paper work before dinner. Tomorrow, he thought with a smile, that bed should be moved to wh
e
re it properly belonged, and tonight—well, a dividing door without a lock presented no difficulties.

Lou, finishing the last of her flower arrangements, was startled by the clamour of the ship

s bell which hung by the front door. So seldom was it rung, since no one visited the island, that she experienced an irrational moment of superstitious dread. It was no ghost, however, tolling for admission. Tibby

s footsteps could be heard, the rush of wind as the door opened, and the sound of voices. Presently confused steps returned across the hall, then Tibby

s voice, harsh and somehow triumphant, announced from the doorway:

A visitor for

ee, missis. I

d best prepare one of the guest rooms.

She stood aside, and Lou stared in disbelief at the newcomer who pushed confidently past the old servant.


Melissa
!
What on earth are you doing here?

she exclaimed, and her cousin, stepping delicately across the room, bringing with her the familiar expensive little waft of her favorite scent, offered an unaccustomed embrace and observed with characteristic candor:


God, what an outlandish dump! You must be quite crackers, Lou, to agree to such an uncivilized honeymoon, but perhaps you weren

t asked. No, in view of everything, I suppose you hadn

t much choice. Darling, I know it

s madly tactless of me to I come at such a time, but you will give me sanctuary won

t you? I

m in dire trouble—but
dire,
my dear.

Lou, too taken by surprise to formulate any coherent ideas, simply stared at her and murmured

Of course
...:
in a vague, uncomprehending tone of voice, but Tibby, who had remained listening and watching, came forward now and looked Melissa over with a slow, careful air of assessment.


You

m like your mother. You might even
be
Miss Blanche as I used to know her,

she said, and Lou heard the slightly malicious pleasure in her voice, and knew with a sinking heart that despite her aversion to any feminine competition in the house she would be subservient to Melissa, if only to use her as a whipping-post.


I

d best tell the master,

she said with a sly, satisfied look at Lou, but at that moment Piers came into the room.


Who rang the bell?

he asked, and as his eyes fell on Melissa, his whole frame stiffened visibly and his face froze into hardness.

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