Authors: Margaret Pargeter
Why was that? Emma glanced enquiringly at Rick, but he wasn't looking at her. He began talking to Rita of other things, and both Rita and Gail seemed happy to folow his lead and ignore her. Emma swalowed a surge of resentment as she remembered his lectures on keeping up appearances.
He was doing absolutely nothing to help if he wanted to give the impression that they were a happily married couple.
Ben was the only one who seemed to appreciate her presence and during the next few weeks Emma was to become grateful for his kindness and his company.
The folowing evening arrived all too soon. Emma had seen little of Rick all day, but while she missed him there was plenty to distract her attention. The house was old but had been modernised and was large and extremely comfortable.
It was surrounded by extensive grounds and beyond these lay acres of gently roling sugar cane.
The gardens were extensive, keeping the sugar cane at bay, and Emma was impressed by the sheer beauty of the landscape. As she was interested in farming, the cultivation of the estate intrigued her and she would have liked to have asked Rick about it, but he wasn't around. He was busy, Rita told her when she asked where he was, while her scornful glance seemed to add that a new bride shouldn't have to look far for her husband.
Rather than suffer further humiliation, Emma wandered about on her own, and it was Ben who answered her many questions about the island, its people and the sugar plantations. She had found the huge swimming pool in the gardens and decided to avail herself of it as she was hot and sticky from her wanderings. She had been in and was out, sitting on the edge of it when Ben found her.
'Rick not with you?' he grinned, dropping down beside her.
'As you can see,' she said shortly.
'Never mind,' he went on smiling idly. 'He's busy. I've been with him all morning,' he groaned ruefuly, 'and he never stops.'
Emma glanced at him curiously. 'Don't you like being busy?'
Ben shrugged. 'Sometimes. Oh, most of the time, I suppose, but there are limits, and Rick's a slave-driver. I did think he would slow up a bit for you. You may not be a model, but you're a sweet young thing. I can't think what he's thinking about.'
Emma flushed unhappily but tried to make light of it.
'Other things, apparently.'
'Wel, if he neglects you, you don't want to let him get away with it.'
'Or he'll treat you the same as he does all the others,'
another voice finished for him.
Turning with a gasp, Emma found Gail staring down on her. She hadn't heard her approach and she flinched from the other girl's calously presented warning. While Ben's words had been lightly teasing, his sister's held more than a hint of deliberate spite.
Flashing a disapproving glance at his sister, Ben placed a comforting hand over Emma's, as it lay beside him. 'Don't take any notice,' he smiled. 'Gail is one of this world's little cats. She can't help her claws.'
Can't she? Emma thought derisively, withdrawing her hand.
'You'll have to watch Veronica this evening,' Gail continued, undeterred. 'She and Rick have been close for ages. She might have been reconciled to your glamorous cousin, but she'll never understand what attracted Rick to you.'
'Emma isn't plain. She's too thin, but she's quite pretty,'.
Ben insisted kindly.
Gail merely raised penciled brows. 'Wel, her story has to be interesting, if she's not.'
Because Gail's eyes were so speculative, Emma's face burnt. Scrambling to her feet, she dived in the pool again.
Having guessed what was coming she had no wish to satisfy Gail's curiosity as to exactly how she and Rick had met and married.
Floating on her back, letting the water gently soothe her, she soon felt a little better. Faintly she could hear Ben and she soon felt a little better. Faintly she could hear Ben and Gail quarreling, but was too far away to make out what they were saying to each other. She could see she would have to grow a thicker skin if she was to survive here for the next few months. Rita and Gail obviously disliked her, and she couldn't expect any help from Rick. Added to this would probably be the animosity of his former girl-friends. Only Ben was inclined to be kind, and again she felt a warm surge of gratitude. If she ever needed it, perhaps he would help her.
Veronica Ray lived several miles down the coast with her two brothers, Miles and Harley. The family owned a large business in Bridgetown and made enough money to give Veronica most of the things her rather mercenary soul craved. That her brothers hadn't been able to capture Rick Conway for her was something Veronica held against them.
Yet, at the party she gave, the surprise on her face, on meeting Rick's young wife, might have informed the least inteligent of onlookers that she was filed with new hope.
Emma, not slow to read Veronica's mind, felt, as the evening progressed, that the other girl might have good reason to be so flagrantly sure of herself. As she watched them dancing, she noticed Rick's slow, appreciative smile as he gazed down into Veronica's velvet-dark eyes. Emma he almost ignored all evening, and his neglect was beginning to make her feel desperately uncomfortable. When a bride of just a few days was ignored by her husband, this could only become a subject of malicious gossip, especialy in such a closely knit community.
She turned with almost visible relief when Ben asked her to dance. 'Oh, thank you,' she murmured, a glimmer of tears in her eyes.
'Don't tell me you and Rick have realy falen out?' he teased. His voice was light, but Emma could see he was slightly puzzled by the way Rick was behaving.
When she shook her fair head, he clearly wasn't satisfied.
'I wasn't serious, this morning. Rick can be a devil at times, but he's usualy quick to forgive. Besides,' he smiled, 'most new husbands are inclined to be extremely tolerant.'
'Because we're married it doesn't mean he has to be glued to my side!' Emma protested feebly.
'still no valid reason for neglecting you, my child.'
Wishing everyone wouldn't insist on caling her that, she retorted a little too fiercely, 'I don't expect him to neglect his friends.'
'It's just possible his friends might understand,' Ben retorted dryly, not for a moment fooled by the shimmer in Emma's eyes.
'Oh, never mind!' she made an effort to speak naturaly, to dismiss Rick from her thoughts. 'I like dancing, and you're good.'
'So are you,' he laughed, whirling her in his arms in such a way as made her almost forget the idle tongues, the quick, speculative glances which clearly wondered what on earth Rick Conway had seen in her.
Ben danced with her three times before leaving reluctantly to dance with another girl. 'I'll be back,' he assured her.
'You're realy something. I can't remember when I've enjoyed anything so much.'
Rick was dancing with Veronica again and Rita and Gail were nowhere to be seen. Again Emma sat by herself with no one taking any notice, her face so stiff from trying to retain a happy expression that it soon felt completely frozen. Rick did, she saw, eventualy dance with someone else, another lovely girl, with whom he was soon dancing cheek to cheek.
The girl had her arms around his neck, and had puled him down to her.
When numbly Emma turned her head away, it was to encounter Veronica's malignant stare.
'It hardly looks as if you're going to be able to hold him, honey. I'll give you a few weeks at the most.'
Emma replied with difficulty, 'Rick and I understand each other.'
'I wish I did!' said Veronica, with sharp laughter, as she sailed away.
Emma was never sure how she got through the rest of the evening. Rick asked her to dance once and she refused, she felt so sick. He had taken her in to supper but barely spoken to her. She told herself she was relieved when he left her while knowing she would have given anything to have danced with him and kept him by her side.
Tossing and turning later in her huge lonely bed, with the scent of jasmine and gardenias floating in through the open window, she found it difficult to sleep. Eventualy, when she did, it was to dream she was in Rick's arms and he was holding her close. A slight smile flitted across Emma's tear-wet cheeks as she kissed him and clung to him feverishly.
Neither Rita nor Gail appeared to come down for breakfast, for it was the second morning that they hadn't been there. Rick wasn't there either and the housekeeper told her he was out on the plantation.
'He works very hard,' the Bajan woman said.
'I thought he had a manager?' Emma carefuly sipped her coffee. The rols were fresh and she made herself butter one, although she didn't feel hungry. She declined the offer of anything cooked.
'Yes, the boss has a manager. He's a good man, and then there's Mr Ben. He's leaving, of course. Going to manage his own plantation, one day.'
'Is he looking forward to it?' Emma enquired, looking anxious.
'Of course!' the housekeeper beamed. 'Mr Rick says he can go as soon as he's learnt enough.'
Emma bit her lip. She liked Ben, she hoped he wouldn't disappear too soon. Uncertainly she glanced at the housekeeper, who was still hovering. Normaly, she knew, she would be expected to take over the duties of a mistress, but apart from the fact that Rick had never asked her to, she realised it would be a waste of time. And she had no intention of upsetting Rita, who would have to look after Rick when she was gone.
Fearing the woman was on the point of asking whose orders she was to take, now that the boss was married, Emma finished her coffee hastily and went out. 'I'll go and see if I can find anyone,' she said.
In spite of her endeavours, she didn't see Rick all day, and by evening she was seething with unhappy resentment that he was so obviously avoiding her. Heedless of anything but her own anger, she recklessly threw open the double doors between their rooms when she heard him moving about.
'Yes, what is it?' he asked sharply, clearly surprised as he paused in the act of unbuttoning his shirt.
Wrenching her startled eyes from his hair-darkened chest, she saw he was looking strangely tired. Imagining this must be partly due to the attention he had paid other women, the night before, only increased her sense of grievance. Without hesitation she accused him, 'You talked of having to keep up appearances! You said I must pretend to be a loving wife!
Wel, how can I when you practicaly ignore my existence?'
Cooly he regarded her. 'I've changed my mind, I'm afraid. What's the use of fawning over each other when it doesn't mean anything? This way, when we part company, we won't have to invent fictitious explanations. No one will look for them as they'll have been predicting a break-up from the beginning.'
Emma's anger was changing rapidly to misery. 'You have it all worked out?'
'Don't look so bitter,' he returned dryly. 'You've known from the start what was to happen. You didn't go into this with your eyes shut.'
'No, I didn't, did I?' she agreed duly.
'Perhaps,' his voice hardened, 'you're hoping to secure a permanent niche for yourself? Now that you've seen the way I live.'
Emma's face went white. 'No!' she choked. 'How could I, when you don't even like me?'
'All the same,' he rejoined grimly, 'you'll conduct yourself in a reasonable manner, while you're here.'
'While you, I suppose, do as you like?'
'I'll call the tune,' his eyes narrowed on her tear filed, defiant ones, 'and don't forget it.'
'You expect me to dance to it, regardless of the consequences?'
'What—consequences could there be?'
Her thick lashes dropped. What would his reactions be if she confessed she was faling in love with him? Didn't he guess, being always one step ahead of everyone else, just how involved she was becoming? She kept praying the fierce emotion she felt in her heart was hate, but somehow she doubted it. The sight of Rick's tal, powerful figure in a pair of tight-fitting pants and a shirt which was open to the waist was enough to set her pulses racing. 'Perhaps none,' she attempted to answer his query lightly, 'but a few bruises which will fade.'
'We all colect those,' he said grimly, watching coldly as she turned to leave him. 'Are you finding it difficult to settle in.
Ben seems to be doing his best to help.'
'He's the only one who bothers,' she replied flatly.
'What you're suffering from is a dose of self-pity,' he continued indifferently to remove his shirt. 'There are many ways of dealing with that, but only one I'd be inclined to take.
If you like I'll spare you an hour or two in the morning and show you a little of the island. A quick tour, if you like, but at least you would be able to find your own way round afterwards.'
So she'd be able to amuse herself and not be a nuisance.
Feeling she could almost read his thoughts, she nearly threw his invitation back in his uncaring face, but the thought of his company for even a short time was more than she could resist. Blindly she nodded her head and left him. 'It's probably a good idea,' she agreed, as she closed the door.
The next morning, just as she was beginning to wonder if he had changed his mind, Rick turned up on the front drive in a powerful sports car and took her out. The road folowed the coast where the beaches were golden and wide and very beautiful. A lot of the larger properties on the island were situated on its shoreline, with their own private beach, and, despite her former doubts, Emma found she was looking forward to the day immensely.
First she was shown briefly over Rick's own estate, and was amazed at how extensive it was. The house she had already explored although she hadn't gone in any of the bedrooms, apart from her own, or Rick's private study. He didn't offer to show her this, but he did take her over the grounds, then the plantation.
Seeing several men at work, she asked how many he employed.
employed.
'Hundreds,' he said briefly, 'during the harvest, but not so many at other times.'
Gazing around the gently roling acres of green sugar cane, Emma wondered where such large numbers of employees lived, as there didn't seem to be a house in sight.
Patiently Rick explained that a lot of them lived together in their own towns. 'Many of their ancestors were prisoners of war from the '45 rebelion—Scots, who instead of being hanged received the Royal Pardon and were transported to Barbados for life. Some of them eventualy came to own their own plantations,' he added. 'Some of them still do.'
Afterwards, as they were both hot, he decided they would find a beach farther north and have a swim before lunch. 'We can leave Bridgetown and the main tourist spots for another day,' he said, after making sure Emma had her bikini.
The water was warm but pleasantly invigorating, yet while Rick was beside her she was too aware of him to realy relax. She had known he was well made, but she hadn't realised until she saw him in a pair of brief swimming trunks
—which she suspected he only wore for her benefit—just what a perfect physique he had. It would have been much easier, she thought wryly, trying not to stare at him, if he had been old and ugly. At least then he wouldn't have been able to make her feel the way she did.
'Don't ever swim here by yourself,' he instructed curtly, as they waded out of the churning surf.
They had the beach entirely to themselves and she kept her eyes fixed steadily on the lonely reaches of it. 'But you won't always have time to come with me?' She almost added
—Or the inclination.
He surprised her by saying, 'Occasionaly I might, but when I can't, use the pool in the garden.'
'Ben might bring me,' she retorted, suddenly stung by the indifference in his voice to her defying him.
'I'd rather he didn't,' Rick replied curtly.
'He's very obliging,' she smiled.
'No Ben!' Emma's over-bright smile faded as Rick glanced tautly over her thin body, at the soft golden hair still streaming with water down her slender back, leaving her features as bare and innocent as a newly born babe's. His eyes narrowed, as though he was suddenly seeing her differently and trying to compose a picture which elusively escaped him.
'What if I feel like a little romance?' she asked, driven by what she assessed as a mocking glance to provoke him. She certainly wasn't interested in having a romantic relationship with Ben or any other man, but Rick needn't know that.
A moment later she was regretting her rash question when he drew her swiftly to him and kissed her. During their conversation she had been busy rubbing the water from her face and eyes or she might have seen his arms reaching out.
Encircled in them, she realised it was too late to do anything else but submit. The pressure of his mouth increased, and wriggle as she might, she couldn't escape it.
Lifting his head, Rick stared into her dazed eyes, his own darkening. 'I've told you before, you have a very provocative mouth,' he said softly.