Fool's Gold (33 page)

‘Who was that having hysterics in the kitchen last night?’ asked Clarence casually.

‘The cook and the maid fell out — you know how it is … Cook burnt her hand on a dish and blamed the maid for it.’

‘Servants!’ exclaimed Clarence. ‘Need a woman’s hand to keep ’em in their place. No problems in our household — Geraldine sees to that. Make some man a good wife!’ he ended unsubtly.

It was with a sigh of relief that Cornish at last saw his guests off on the steamer. He’d given Captain Bateman his orders earlier that morning, together with the letters he’d written during the night while Alicia slept. He turned back from the jetty and walked thoughtfully back to the ranch house.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Alicia struggled to lift her head from the pillow. Someone was shaking her. She wished they’d go away and leave her alone.

At last she managed to lift her head up. It was swimming. Hardly surprising, she thought, despising herself for her weakness last night — or was it the night before?

‘Lady?’

It was Pearl.

‘Pearl, how many times? My name’s Alicia.’

‘Colonel has brought the minister to see you,’ she said softly. ‘Here is fresh water. And Chen Kai-Tsu also wishes to speak to you.’

As the door closed behind Pearl she sat up. Despite what she’d drunk, her memory, for once, was not in the least fuddled. She knew exactly why the minister had come. And, surprisingly, today she felt none of the panic that had once washed over her at the thought of Fisher.

Hurriedly she rose and washed away the sleep and tidied her hair. When she opened the door to the Reverend Cooper, she was quite composed.

He took her hand in his. ‘My dear Mrs Owens,’ he said gently — and then seemed at a complete loss how to go on.

She sat down and waved him to the other chair.

‘Colonel Cornish told you? My past finally caught up with me.’

‘He told me something of the story.’ He paused uncomfortably and cleared his throat. ‘He wants me to marry the two of you. Of course, the Colonel’s a good match. If you’re sure you want to marry him …’

‘I don’t
want
to marry anyone!’ she said pettishly. ‘Like Letitia, I’m much happier single.’

‘Appearances can be deceptive,’ he replied gravely. ‘The young man Letitia was engaged to marry was killed in the Indian Wars and no one else ever measured up to his memory. A waste.’ He paused. ‘You know of course that if you need a home, a refuge, Letitia and I would be delighted to have you and Tamsin with us.’

Letitia had been quite blunt, ‘Tell her to come to us if she’d rather. But mark my words, my dear Octavius, she’s not as averse to him as she may think. They’ve a lot more in common than they’ve had a chance to find out. A marriage could be the making of both of them.’

‘Cornish is a good man,’ was all he said now. He crossed to the door, ‘Let me know what you decide. Take your time.’

Her decision. That was what Chen Kai had said, when she had woken, groggy and disorientated in the cold dawn — yesterday’s cold dawn, she realised — and blurted it all out to him.

He had declared his readiness to take them all back on the road again and to kill Fisher with his bare hands if he tried to stop them, and she knew he meant it but she also knew that it was not enough. Neither he nor the Coopers would stand a chance against the likes of Fisher.

She must have sat there for hours turning it over and over in her mind, but by the time Pearl came back, she knew what she had to do. At least this way Tamsin would have a home, whatever happened. And she was tired of running.

Like a sleepwalker she allowed Pearl to brush her hair and pin it back with two ivory combs and help her into the splendid amber silk dress that Letitia had sent as a bride-gift. When Angelina came for her, bubbling over with enthusiasm, she gazed blindly at her. When Pearl held a mirror up for her, she saw only a pale stranger.

In a daze she walked across to the house where the four men were standing in an uneasy knot by the door, talking in low tones. Tamsin would have run to her side, but Kai caught her by the hand.

‘You keep your word,’ grated Cornish roughly.

She nodded, looking round her at the minister in his starched bands, the altarcloth and candles on the table in the centre of the room. Kerhouan came down the room with a bunch of heavily scented flowers which he thrust in some embarrassment into her hand.

She stood in the shaft of late evening sunlight that slanted in at the window, her hand icy cold as Chen Kai placed it wordlessly in Cornish’s. They made their responses and Kerhouan produced a slim gold ring which Cornish took and slipped onto her finger. Then, at last, it was all over.

‘You may kiss the bride,’ said the minister with a grave smile, and she felt Cornish’s cold lips on her cheek. Then everyone, wreathed in smiles, was kissing her and it was doubly hard to stay detached in the face of their enthusiasm. Tamsin was hopping up and down in her excitement.

The candles were lit as the sun went down and as the shadows fell, Angelina and Pearl served up a very creditable celebration supper. Only the conversation was stilted and she made no contribution to the discussion about the harvest and the prospect of an autumn rice crop.

Halfway through, Pearl carried Tamsin off to sleep in Angelina’s room and the talk became a little freer. Chen Kai and Kerhouan were both drinking deep, but the rancher and his new bride had hardly touched their wine.

The Reverend Cooper decided to turn in early in view of the next day’s journey, and as his host crossed to trim a lamp for him, Alicia seemed to come suddenly to her senses. ‘All that clearing up!’ she muttered. ‘I must help Angelina …’

Cornish stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, his face devoid of expression.

‘No, Alicia.’ Chen Kai removed the plate from her fingers. ‘We’ll manage.’

‘Chen Kai!’ She clung to his arm in panic, but he led her firmly across to Cornish at the foot of the staircase.

‘Be good to her, Jack!’ he muttered fiercely, then turned abruptly on his heel and strode out of the room without a backward glance.

‘Go on up, m’dear,’ suggested Cornish, trimming up a night lamp and handing it over to her. ‘I’ll be a while.’

His hands were still busy trimming wicks, but his eyes followed her all the way up the stairs until she vanished from sight.

It was another half hour before he followed her.

She was sitting in the chair before the open window, still as a statue, an empty glass beside her; for a moment, he thought she was asleep, or drunk, but as he closed the door behind him, she jumped and started to her feet. As he set his lamp down on the chest, she skittered across the room towards the door.

‘For God’s sake!’ he exclaimed wrathfully. ‘Will you stop that? You’ll frighten me out of a week’s growth!’ He turned his back on her to trim the wick. ‘I thought you’d have been in bed by now.’

‘No!’ Her voice was raw. ‘I couldn’t — I can’t!’

‘Look, let’s have an end to all this!’ he snapped, striding angrily towards her. He stopped abruptly as she dived for the gun in the holster hanging on the back of the door.

His lips thinned in anger as he looked at the gun in her hand. Then his face went stiff and he turned away and coolly began to untie his cravat. Tossing it aside, he sank down on the bed, his back to her, and began to ease off his boots.

‘I’m thirty-five years old, Alicia,’ he said deliberately. ‘I’ve never yet had to resort to rape to get a woman to go to bed with me and I’ve no intention of starting now.’ His second boot fell noisily to the floor. ‘By the way, I haven’t left a loaded gun around the house since you and Tamsin first came here.’

There was a click as she opened it up, then she threw the gun down on the chest with an angry curse. He rose and crossed the room to hang his jacket on the hook. She stood in the corner by the door, her eyes large and shadowed in a pale face.

‘Do I have to sleep here?’ she whispered.

‘No,’ he replied tautly. ‘If you really want to humiliate me, you can go downstairs right now, past Octavius and Angelina and Pearl, and go back to your old room.’

She stood, undecided, in the middle of the room. He paused in the complex task of shrugging himself out of his shirt, no easy matter with the heavy leather strapping on his arm, and smiled at her. ‘Go to bed, m’dear,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘You’re tired and I’m tired.’

Her eyebrows snapped together in a frown. ‘You — you don’t want me?’ Surprise and relief were mixed in her voice.

He looked at her with a disturbing light in his eyes. ‘Oh yes, I want you. I’ve never seen you look more beautiful than you do tonight. It was worth the wait. But when I take you, I want two good arms to hold you in and both of us with clear enough heads to remember it the next day, not half-sodden with whiskey as you are now.’ He turned away again, ‘Put the lamp out when you come to bed,’ he said smoothly.

She crossed to the corner of the room furthest from the light and began to undress; he could almost sense her willing herself to ignore his presence. There was silence for a while, followed by the sounds of a struggle. Then a small voice from the far corner called out: ‘I can’t undo the dress.’

He had great difficulty keeping his face straight. ‘And how can I be of assistance?’

‘Would you undo the lacing, if you please?’ she asked in a choked voice.

Out of the corner of her eyes she watched him cross the room. Like Chen Kai, he wore nothing but a pair of loose cotton pants. She closed her eyes and told herself that this was just the same half-naked body she had nursed.

‘You’ll have to come over into the light,’ he said crisply. ‘You’ve got it very knotted and my fingers are still a little stiff.’

He lifted the golden brown hair out of the way and laid it over her shoulder. She shivered at his touch.

‘Hold still!’ he snapped. ‘Stop jumping like a scalded cat! Christ! No one would ever think you’d been married. Can’t you just pretend I’m your first husband?’

‘My husband was more likely to take his fists to me than help me out of my dress!’ she said unguardedly.

‘Dear God!’ His fingers stopped abruptly. ‘What a waste,’ he sighed. ‘Then pretend I’m some other man you once felt some affection for.’

She bowed her head. ‘You are mistaken, Colonel,’ she said, ‘I have never — known — any man but Fisher.’

‘You mean — your husband … never?’

‘No.’

Memory stirred. ‘Langdon?’ he mused. ‘Not Lucky Langdon?’

‘That’s him. Failed in fortune, failed in everything.’

‘That why he beat you?’

She shrugged. ‘Perhaps. He saw it differently. He said I was frigid.’ She heard him grind his teeth. ‘I — I did warn you …’

As the lacings parted, the lace-edged amber silk slipped away from her smooth creamy shoulders. He should have walked away then, but in spite of himself, he was transported back to the day at the
agua caliente
and his body began again to betray him. He ran the tip of his thumb softly along the top of her shoulders and bent his head to press his lips to the silky skin at the nape of her neck.

For a brief moment she swayed towards him, unable to control her reaction, then he felt her stiffen under his touch.

He dropped his hands to his side, not holding her any longer than she was willing. ‘He was wrong,’ he said softly. ‘You’re not frigid. One day, you’ll see that.’

She didn’t answer, all her attention intent on stopping the unlaced silk dress from slipping. To her relief, he didn’t wait for an answer.

She turned down the lamp and slipped into her old nightdress. She could delay no longer. She stood beside the bed listening to his deep and steady breathing. At last she climbed into the bed.

She lay there a long time in silence, hardly daring to breathe.

‘You’ll never sleep perched on the edge like that!’ came an amused voice from out of the darkness.

She drew in her breath in a sharp gasp.

‘Get this straight — I am not Fisher. Don’t jump and gasp every time I come near you! We made a bargain down there today. I expect at least the appearance of a wife in public. Now turn over and go to sleep.’

*

She was dreaming. She was lying in the big meadow above Tresco, peering up at the sunlight filtering through the wildflowers, the golden yellow Californian poppies, the deep magenta shooting stars, the Indian paint-brushes and the multi-coloured clarkias. The sun was warm on her eyelids. Her eyes flickered open and she saw that the shaft of sunlight was coming in through a window in a wall.

Memory came flooding back and she rolled over to see Jack Cornish lying by her side. She waited as if from habit for the mindless panic to wash over her, but curiously, it never came.

He looked very young and vulnerable in his sleep, and not in the least threatening. Before she could examine her feelings any more closely, a knock fell on the door.

Pearl slipped in, bearing a pitcher of warm water, a woeful expression on her face.

She put the pitcher down on the chest and stood impassively at the end of the bed, her hands together.

‘Good morning, lady. I hope you have had a happy and auspicious night,’ she murmured.

Alicia didn’t know where to look. As Pearl moved away to pour out the water, she turned to find Cornish with one eye open, regarding her quizzically. He dropped his eyelid lazily in a conspiratorial wink and she found it difficult not to burst out laughing.

The door closed behind Pearl. ‘And did you have an auspicious night, Mrs Cornish?’ he asked, brushing against her as he sat up.

She managed to control her initial impulse to recoil and smiled weakly. ‘I — yes. A good night’s sleep,’ she conceded.

He grinned back at her and slid his good arm around her to give her shoulders a gentle squeeze. ‘And that’s something you’ve been sadly lacking of late,’ he observed wryly.