The Youngest Bridesmaid (26 page)


I see,

Lou said gently, wondering for a moment if Piers had not been right when he had remarked so casually that his old nurse was getting senile, then suddenly she understood. Tibby was only another victim of make
-
believe. Living alone for months at a time, perhaps, on this island, she had woven her own fantasies out of the past because all her life reality had only come to her through others.

She stretched out a hand to touch the woman

s face with tentative solicitude, surprised to feel the moisture of tears.


If you

d accept me now, Tibby,

she said shyly,

we can still make the dreams come real—some of them. You—you would like nurseries again, wouldn

t you?

Even as she spoke Lou felt herself flushing scarlet. What right had she to think of nurseries when her husband held her at a distance and Tibby herse
l
f had schemed and prevaricated over the marital bed from the beginning?

Tibby observed the blush with a sardonic eye, thinking no doubt, Lou reflected with embarrassment, that Piers

come-by-chance bride was getting inflated ideas of her prospects, then that unfamiliar, reluctant smile began to twitch at the corners of the woman

s thi
n
lips.


Happen you

ll suit, at that,

she said, and someone hammered loudly on the bathroom door.


What in hades are you two up to?

Piers

voice demanded irritably.

You

ve been in there long enough in all conscience. Lou, you should be in bed, and I want to bandage that ankle. Can I come in?

He opened the door without waiting for permission, observed his wife

s heightened color, and a look on Tibby

s face that he had not seen since his nursery days, and grinned.


The lamb lying down with the lion, I observe,

he said.

Tibby, you old faggot, it

s a
b
out time, too, you had a change of heart!


You

ll need a change of heart yourself, Mr. Piers, before you start calling me n
a
mes to my face,

Tibby retorted, but his grin only grew wider.


Haven

t I always called you names to your face?

he replied, the
n
his mood altered abruptly.

Sam should have been back by now. I

m a bit worried.

Tib
b
y said nothing, but Lou saw her hands trembling as she began picking up towels and hanging them on the hot rail to dry.


What

s the time?

Lou asked anxiously.


Gone six. I

ve a good min
d
to take the second laun
c
h and make a recce.

She looked at him with eyes widened in alarm.


But that

s crazy!

she exclaimed.

What

s the sense in risking two boats—two lives, perhaps? Sam may have got held up on the mainland with the weather—or anything. Piers—

He took her hands, holding them with kindly reassurance but also with firmness.


I

ll give him another half-hour,

he said,

but after that you musn

t try to keep me. I have a responsibility to my islanders, you see. Understand?


Yes,

she said, remembering Melissa

s taunts about king-of-the-castle games. But this was no game, and Rune no toy to satisfy a rich dilettante

s whim. This unpredictable stranger, she knew now, was the real Piers Merrick, and at last she understood what he had meant when he had told her that in bringing her to his island he was paying her a compliment.

II

Lou stubbornly refused to go to bed. Her hot bath and Pier

s dose of brandy would have warded off a chill, she said, and she refused to be packed off, upstairs until there was news of Sam. She did not add that if Piers fulfilled his intention of making a search himself, she could not endure the hours of waiting lying inactive in her bed, but he probably guessed, for he gave in without argument and his smile was tender as he tucked her up on a sofa by the fire in the living room.


Where

s Melissa?

she
asked, discovering with surprise that this was the first moment she had missed her cousin.


Keeping out of my way, I imagine. I

ve had no time, as yet, to deal with that young woman,

he replied a trifle grimly, and she glanced up at him through her lashes. It was, she thought, very gratifying to hear that irritable note in his voice directed, for a change, at her glamorous cousin.


You must be fair to Melissa,

she said, however, striving for fairness herself.

She wouldn

t have had any idea of the danger when she talked Sam round. She

s so used, you see, to young men fetching and carrying for her.

His expression, she thought, was suddenly rather odd, and when he replied, the old impatience was back in his voice.


You really do ask for it, don

t you, Cinderella?

he said, and made her feel foolish at once.

Here you are, defending a girl who has no loyalty to you, and expect me to be fair to her. What did you mean, incidentally, when you said Melissa would send me to the cave?


We

d planned it—at least she had, only at the last minute I said I wouldn

t. She—she was going to
—”


Going t
o
what?

But Lou could not go on. He had told her that he had not seen her cousin since luncheon, so it was clearly impossible that Melissa had straightened out the tangle. She and Piers, thought Lou, remembering now with embarrassment the things she had said to Tibby, were no nearer a tacit understanding than they had been. She had, she supposed, read too much into his concern for her. It was only the same responsible concern which he felt for Sam.


Tell me, Lou, this voice you heard—was it female?

he asked, and she gave him a puzzled frown, wondering why he should return
to a subject he had dismissed as imagination. The warmth and the sense of security, the pleasant aftermath of her frightening experience in the cave had almost persuaded her that she had dreamed the whole thing.


I couldn

t tell,

she replied sleepily.

It was a disembodied voice—like the weird sound effects one sometimes hears on radio. Did I dream it, a
f
ter all, Piers?


Not to worry,

he said, looking down at her with a quizzical twitch of one eyebrow.

You

ve never quite woken from your original dream, have you?


Oh, yes, I have,

she said, suddenly wide awake.

You must get out of the habit, Piers, of
thinking of me as Ci
n
derella. There comes a time when fairy tales outl
ive
their uses.


So they do,

he replied, with a little grimace of surprise and affection.

Well, stay awake, Lou—I may have need of your clearer vision. I must go down to the harbor now—time

s getting short. Take a nap till I

m back.

When he had gone, however, the desire for sleep went with him. If he came back with no news of Sam and the launch, he would, she knew, set out himself. She had no knowledge of what danger that might involve but she knew that until he was safely home again she would have no peace of mind.

The force of the wind had lessened, she thought, listening to the now familiar bufferings of the storm.
It would, she reflected, beginning to grow sleepy again, be quite strange to have silence once more and the recognizable, intermittent sounds of the island which were no more than a passing assurance of life. She was nearly asleep when the sharp click of an opening and shutting door roused her and she saw that Melissa had slipped into the room.


Well!

her cousin observed, moving into the circle of lamplight,

you

ve certainly got what you wanted at last! Piers in a tizzy—even the scatty old girl running round in circles. You should thank your fairy godmother, Cinderella.


Why?


For turning the pumpkin back into a coach
of course. The cave idea was a good one, wasn

t it?


No,

said Lou,

it wasn

t. I might have drowned.


Really, darling, that

s a little much. Didn

t your reluctant bridegroom come to the rescue, just as I said?


Yes, but you didn

t send him, as you promised. You never meant to put things right for me, did
you?


More pressing matters came up. I was out o
f
cigarettes and a radio battery, but never mind,
Lou ... ou ... ou ..
.”

Melissa had turned away as she spoke, and her last word could have been distorted by coinciding with a sudden gust of wind, but Lou, realizing with a sense of shock what Piers had probably already guessed, knew her cousin well enough to appreciate that Melissa could not resist a reminder of her own cleverness.


You
were the voice!

she exclaimed, and for a moment, relief that there had, after all, been nothing supernatural about her ordeal in the cave made her curious rather than angry.


I was rather good, don

t you think? I might even have succeeded in driving you away if you hadn

t run into Piers. That was my bad luck,

Melissa said, and a sense of outrage rose in Lou.


What a cruel thing to do—what a mean, despicable trick!

she cried.

You

d no intention of talking to Piers—had you? You

d no intention of sending him to look for me. Did you know the cave filled in times of storm? Did you want me to drown?

Melissa flung herself into a chair, stretching her arms above her head in one of her deliberate poses of grace.


Of course not,

she said impatiently.

And anyway you didn

t, so why the drama?
I
t

s paid off very nicely for you as things have turned out, hasn

t it?


Why did you do it? You

d made enough trouble for me without that, surely,

Lou said, trying even then to find excuses for a prank which could have ended disastrously.


I did it for kicks,

Melissa replied, adding with a shrewish bite:

And I did it for the pay-off. I said you

d be sorry for that slap, didn

t I? Sam showed me how.


Sam!


Oh, he wasn

t involved in any plot, poor lamb, he just knew the trick of the echo; all the islanders know it, apparently. There

s a certain spot where you stand outside and speak down a funnel in the rock. I couldn

t see you, of course, Lou, but I bet you panicked more than somewhat. What a pity
it was all wasted. I—

Melissa broke off so abruptly that Lou

s horrified attention became diverted. She followed the direction of her cousin

s hastily turned head and saw Piers standing in the doorway.


Go on,

he said,

what else had you planned to make a Roman holiday?

For the first time Melissa

s assurance deserted her. She wriggled forward nervously in her chair, forgetting her former elegant pose, and tried to bluster things out.


Darling, don

t make a thing of it,

she said.

I only played a harmless trick—just for kicks. No one

s a penny the worse.


No?

You seem a little too fond of playing for kicks. Wasn

t that your excuse for running out on me?

He spoke so mildly that she was misled into brashness.


Yes, it was, and you should have known it instead of making a fool of my simple little cousin just to get your own back,

she said, flinging a contemptuous glance at Lou, and Piers took two long strides across the room and stood over her with hands clenched at his sides.


Get out!

he said.

Get out of here before I administer the sort of kicks you haven

t bargained for. You

ve never wanted me, Melissa—only the satisfaction of making a successful kill. Even that was playing for kicks, wasn

t it? When you

d gone one better than the Joneses you

d have been looking round for something else to relieve the boredom. Get out!


Even you,

said Melissa, her voice a little unsteady,

can hardly put me out into the storm—or can you? Lou—


I,

said Lou with complete unexpectedness,

couldn

t care less. I

ve been pushed around long enough—now it

s your turn.

Despite his anger, Piers gave a faint grin, but Melissa looked at her cousin as if she saw her for the first time.


Lou, you wouldn

t
...
you couldn

t
...”
she exclaimed, sounding genuinely shocked, and Lou snuggled down into the sofa and closed her eyes.


I would and I could, and I

m sick of all your playacting,

she said in the tones of someone dismissing a tiresome interruption.

You

re a very worthless person, really, Melissa—I can

t think why I admired you so much. Go away now. I want to talk to my husband.

Piers, no less than Melissa, was observing his wife with an air of surprise, but in Piers

expression a deep
tenderness swallowed up the first astonishment, and Melissa saw it.

“W
ell,

she said, getting to her feet with less than her usual grace of movement,

that seems to be my cue for exeunt all. I take it that your injunction to get out was a figure of speech, Piers—I would prefer the shelter of my bedroom to the doubtful charms of your island weather. I can

t, with the best will in the world, walk home in traditional fashion with a stretch of ocean to cross.


I don

t care where you go so long as you keep away from Lou and from me. Tomorrow I

ll take you to the mainland no matter what the weather

s doing, and if you

re sick that

s just too bad,

Piers said, and watched her move to the door with that deliberate little swing of the hips which he had once found so provocative.

He turned with a sense of release to Lou, his anger forgotten, and thought how like a little contented cat she looked, curled up with boneless grace against the cushions; a little cat that had found its niche at last and, like all its species, taken possession.

He knelt down beside the sofa and dropped a light kiss on her forehead.


Lou,

he said,

I have to go out again. I may be gone some time.

Her eyes flew open and she looked at him with a flicker of fear.

You

re going after Sam?


The news isn

t good,

he told her gently.

The launch has been found—empty.


Oh, no!

she whispered. It was the culminating horror of the day, the last evil fruits of her cousin

s thoughtless machinations—or perhaps it would not be the last.


Piers, you will take care, won

t you?

she said, thinking at the same time what an idiotic thing it was to say. Putting to sea in the teeth of a gale was scarcely on a par with crossing a road safely. He did not, however, seem to consider her request absurd.

He took her face between his hands and said gravely:

You understand I have to go, don

t you, Lou? The islanders are my responsibility.


Yes, of course. Do you think—do you suppose Sam has drowned?


One can

t possibly conjecture. The launch was drifting close to the mainland, so it

s feasible he may have got ashore, but I must make enquiries, do what I can. Look after Tibby for me, my dear. She

s taking this hard.


Piers...

she said, her arms going round his neck,
“...come
back to
me...”

He gave her no verbal reassurances but held her hard against him for a moment. He did not say goodbye, and was gone before she had time to struggle off the sofa.

She stood by the window for a long time trying to distinguish a moving figure in the darkness, but either her eyes were not keen enough or he had gone down to the harbor another way. Presently she saw the lights of hurricane lamps bobbing to and fro in the distance and then a stronger beam stretching across the black water growing smaller and fainter as the launch drew away from the island. She sent a brief prayer after it and went out to the kitchen to find Tibby.

Other books

Dancing Dead by Deborah Woodworth
Pitcher's Baby by Saylor Bliss
Love Realized by Melanie Codina, Madison Seidler
Stroke of Midnight by Bonnie Edwards
Premio UPC 1995 - Novela Corta de Ciencia Ficción by Javier Negrete César Mallorquí
Listed: Volume II by Noelle Adams
Sound of Secrets by Darlene Gardner
The Shell Seekers by Rosamunde Pilcher


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024