Enchanted Spring (2 page)

“Seems to me you know quite a lot about the lady,” Carey said with a little gust of jealousy.

Ronnie’s eyebrows went up and there was a glint of disdain in his eyes. Carey flushed, knowing that she had spoken like a bad-mannered schoolgirl. Before he could say anything that would add to her discomfiture, she said carelessly:

“Trot the car around tomorrow after lunch and I’ll give it a look-see. If I like it, I’ll have Dad write you a check.”

“You’ll like it — it’s really something very distinctive, and yet in perfect taste,” Ronnie assured her.

As her taxi slid away from the curb she looked back over her shoulder and saw him disappearing into a drugstore in whose doorway there was the sign of a public telephone booth. He was going to telephone the ex-showgirl about the prospective sale of her car. Ronnie would come in for a nice commission, of course, but Carey assured herself that this was quite all right. When a man has no other means of earning a living, he can’t be too choosy. And it was perfectly absurd that at this very moment the lean, dark face of Joel Hunter should suddenly come before her eyes.

When she reached home and entered the door that John held open for her, she heard voices from the direction of the library and looked a question directly at John.

“Mr. Winslow came home from the office early, Miss Carey, and brought Miss Hendrix with him for some confidential work,” John answered the question.

Carey nodded and then turned in at the library door. Miss Hendrix had been her father’s confidential secretary for seventeen years.

“Hello, Pops,” she called cheerfully, bending to put her cold cheek against his. “How do you do, Miss Hendrix?”

The middle-aged woman whose dark hair showed threads of silver, her face lined and colorless, her eyes steady and brown, spoke to her in a colorless voice, which Carey scarcely waited to hear.

“What are you doing home from the office this time of the day, Dad?” Carey demanded of her father with mock sternness. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to keep that good-looking nose of yours to the grindstone and make pots of money for me to spend? I just bought a new car this afternoon — at least, I think I did. I haven’t seen it yet.”

She missed the sharp, angry look that Margaret Hendrix gave her. But she did not miss the very slight tautening of her father’s face as he said, “But, Carey, your convertible is almost new. You’ve only had it six months.”

“But this is something very special, Pops,” Carey insisted, her resolution to buy the car stiffening with this hint of opposition. “Besides, I can use two cars — or we could sell mine. This one is an imported job, specially built. And unbelievably cheap — a mere ten grand! Think of it. Well, ‘bye-bye, I’m off for a nap.”

THE FOLLOWING afternoon Ronnie was three-quarters of an hour late for his appointment with her. When she came down the steps to meet him, her brows were drawn together in a little frown; but the moment she saw the car, a stunning thing in dark green and dull silver, upholstered in snakeskin, she completely forgot her annoyance.

Ronnie took the wheel and they drove up Fifth Avenue, across to Riverside Drive at Seventy-second Street, and on up to the George Washington Bridge, while Ronnie talked eagerly of the merits of the car. It was not until they had crossed the bridge and were heading north with the silvery gleam of the Hudson below them that Carey remembered he had been late, and taxed him with it.

“You’ll never guess in a thousand years what made me late,” he boasted.

“I’m not interested in guessing what your apologies may be,” she told him sharply.

Ronnie studied her for a moment, then said coolly, “How you
do
like to crack the whip over a fellow.”

That set her back on her heels, for a moment and she blinked as though he’d flung cold water in her face. “Meaning I’m a shrew?” she demanded.

“Meaning merely that you’re a child who has had her own way too long. It’s time you were getting your comeuppance, my lamb,” Ronnie said quietly, but with a glint in his eyes.

Carey digested that in silence for a moment and when she could steady her voice against the seething anger that shook her at his daring to criticize her, she asked sweetly, “And I suppose you are self-elected to see I get that comeuppance?”

“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” Ronnie answered her with an almost ostentatious gentleness.

She blinked and her heart began to beat a little faster. After all, he was by far the best-looking man she had ever seen in her life and he had made it his business to be charming to women. He had worked at that as hard as the average man works for success in a more prosaic profession at which he hopes to earn his living. And he was a success.

After a moment in which she showed no inclination to speak, Ronnie said, “And now, if I may, I’ll tell you why I was late this afternoon.”

“Do,” Carey said politely.

“It’s the most cockeyed thing you ever heard,” he warned her, chuckling at the memory. “Ann Paige rang me up this morning and commissioned me to turn her into a raving beauty with charm and sex-appeal and plenty of ‘oomph’.”

Carey stared at him, incredulous. “It can’t be done!” she said sharply.

“I don’t know about that!” protested Ronnie, still chuckling over what he had revealed. “I barged over — after all, a fee of twenty-five thousand dollars is not to be sneered at, not when a guy is penniless. Anyway, I gave her the onceover — ”

“I’m sure of that,” said Carey and hated herself for the tone of her voice.

“Miaow!” Ronnie didn’t sound at all like a cat and he went on cheerfully, “With a rigid diet, supervised exercises, and the services of the very best in the way of beauty operators and dressmakers, she’s going to surprise all of you, her lovelier rivals.”

“But, for the love of Pete — why
you?”
Carey burst out. “I mean why should she pick
you
to turn her into a glamour girl?”

Ronnie said gently, “I resent that. Hadn’t you heard that I’m supposed to be something of a connoisseur in beautiful women? And to have something of a flair for choosing their clothes and their cosmetics.”

“And getting handsomely paid for it.” Carey could have bitten her tongue out the next moment. But it was too late. The words were out, and Ronnie was looking a trifle gray about the mouth and his eyes were pinpoints of fury.

For a moment he said nothing, then Carey said meekly, “I’m sorry, Ronnie. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not?” asked Ronnie, his eyes straight ahead, his hands gripped tightly on the wheel. “I’m glad to know your very low opinion of me. It saves me the embarrassment of asking you a certain question I’ve had in mind for some time.”

Carey’s heart jumped a little. Her common sense told her that Ronnie was a conscienceless sponger. But her heart said rebelliously that he was gay and charming and disturbingly good-looking. And she listened to her heart rather than her common sense.

“Forgive me, Ronnie. I’m just a jealous, spiteful cat. I’m just angry because Ann thought of this scheme before I did! I might have commissioned you to make me over — ”

“That would be impossible — to make you anything lovelier and more charming than you are,” Ronnie said unexpectedly, bringing the car to a halt, its long silver nose turned off the road into a little sheltered spot away from the wind. “I’m a fool, Carey, and I know you’ll give me the horse-laugh — but I’ve kept it back as long as I can. I’m mad about you. I’ve been crazy about you from the very first moment I saw you. I’ve tried to stand aside and let you have fun this year and be free, but I can’t go on waiting — I’m so darned scared somebody else will come along and cop you. Carey, I adore you — is there a chance for me?”

Carey’s heart was racing like mad. She was trembling a little with excitement and, as she looked up into his pleading dark eyes, her own became a little shy and the white lids fell, veiling them. But Ronnie had seen what he wanted in her eyes and now his arms were about her, drawing her close against him. When she would have turned her face away from him, his hand cupped her chin and turned it almost roughly until her mouth lay just beneath his own. She felt the hard, eager downdrive of his mouth upon her own and from some hidden depth in her startled, trembling heart some instinct surged upward, ordering her to tear herself from his embrace.

After a little he let her go and sat looking at her. “And you’ll marry me, darling — right away?” he begged eagerly. “Why not this afternoon? We could drive on to some place where we wouldn’t have to wait for a license.”

Carey felt as though she had taken a sudden step in the darkness and plunged headlong over a precipice. She had the feeling of flinging out her hands, trying wildly to clutch at something that would save her. She stammered breathlessly, “Oh, no, no — Ronnie. I couldn’t do that to Dad. Not just run away and be married. He’ll want me to have a real wedding and all that.”

“But he won’t want you to marry
me,”
Ronnie told her grimly. Then with an unexpected touch of candor: “Fathers somehow don’t seem overly pleased at the idea of me as a husband for their daughters. Of course, I admit I’m a no-good — ”

Carey put her hand over his mouth and would not listen.

“Dad will give his consent, the minute he’s sure it’s what I want,” she said confidently. “He’s never refused me anything in his life, so why should he start now, especially when I never
really
wanted anything before!”

Ronnie looked relieved. “You think you can persuade him?” he asked swiftly.

“I don’t think,” she answered promptly. “I
know
he will agree to anything I want — he always has.”

Ronnie’s arms closed about her once more, and he kissed her. After a long moment, Carey raised her head from his shoulder and said firmly:

“So now you can tell Ann Paige to go fly a kite — ”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars is a lot of money, angel-face,” Ronnie reminded her. “She will give me that when I turn her into a glamour-gal — and I wouldn’t come to you exactly penniless.”

He looked down at her when she didn’t answer, and his eyes danced ever so little at the mutinous set of her pretty chin and the steel in her smoky-gray eyes.

“Jealous?” he murmured.

“Of Ann Paige?” She sniffed disdainfully. “It’s just that-well, I’d rather you didn’t have anything more to do with her, that’s all.”

He let her go and bent to switch the ignition on. She was a little startled to see that there was an ugly line to his set jaw and his voice was curt as he said, “Sorry — I’m afraid you’ll have to be reasonable about this, my sweet. I’ve given Ann a promise, and I usually manage to keep my word.”

“But if you love me — ” Carey protested.

He swung the big car around and turned its silver nose back towards New York.

“I’m mad about you, my angel,” he told her, and despite the words his tone was dry. “But I can’t let you meddle too much in my affairs — not, at least, until we’re married. After that — ” he shrugged.

“After we’re married,” Carey snapped rashly, “you’ll stop being so friendly with people like Ann Paige.”

Ronnie’s eyes slewed for a moment from the road ahead and took her in, and his lip curled with a little derisive smile as he drawled coolly, “How you
do
talk!”

She managed to hold her tongue and her temper, until they had crossed the bridge and were swinging once more into Riverside Drive. Then Ronnie glanced at her coolly, a conciliatory smile just touching his good-looking mouth, and asked gaily, “Well? What do you think of her? Isn’t she a beauty?”

For a moment, preoccupied with her thoughts of Ann, she raged. And then she realized that he meant the car, so she answered him almost curtly: “Stunning! She sounds like a cream-fed cat, doesn’t she?”

“Shall I just leave her in your garage? You can have your dad mail me a check in the morning,” he suggested with a carelessness that was just a bit unconvincing.

“Oh, I’m not so sure — that is, I’ll have to talk it over with Dad,” Carey answered stubbornly.

Instantly she saw the shadow on his face. “I’m afraid that won’t do,” he said. “The owner is very anxious to complete the sale today. But don’t bother about it. I am sure Ann Paige would jump at the chance to buy it. I’ll tell her about it when I dine with her tonight.”

“So you’re dining with Ann tonight!”

“Any objections?”

“Plenty of them! Did you, or did you not ask me to marry you — just a little while ago?”

“I did, of course — ”

“And did I or did I not accept?”

“You did — and darned decent it was of you, too — ”

“Then you’re dining with Dad and me tonight and we are asking his consent to our wedding and telephoning the news to the papers,” she told him belligerently.

Ronnie laughed. “Oh, no, I’m not, angel! You’re going to break the news to your dad — and then if he doesn’t explode or behave in a manner of unseemly violence, I’ll drop around and have a little chat with him.”

“You’re scared!” she accused hotly.

“Certainly I’m scared!” he admitted, entirely without shame. “Remember, I begged you to elope with me and tell him the news later. This idea of asking his consent was yours. And you assured me you could handle him! I can’t — and I’d never even try.”

Carey drew a long breath and her hands clenched tightly in her lap. After a moment she said grimly, “I suppose I ought to despise you for that.”

“Undoubtedly,” Ronnie agreed, completely undisturbed.

They were caught by a traffic light, sitting still, waiting for the light to change from red to green. Ronnie looked down at her, and she could not tear her eyes from his warm significant gaze. Then boldly, audaciously, he bent his handsome head and kissed her.

The next moment the light shifted and the car shot ahead. And neither Ronnie nor Carey spoke until it came to a stop in front of the austere, narrow house in Sixty-third Street that was her home.

As he helped her out of the car, Ronnie’s hand tightened on hers and he bent above her, not quite kissing her, but his manner so devoted, so caressing that she felt as though he
had
kissed her.