The Way of a Tyrant Page 12

  'It can be left. I'll send someone over in the morning to collect it and deliver it to Coral Gables.' Jane made no immediate move and he said brusquely, 'If you'll go now and change…?

  She rose at once, recalling her tinge of uneasiness on Scott's arrival. Unconsciously she must have known he would say something to embarrass her.

  When she came back from Susan's bedroom, where she had changed into her own clothes, Scott and David were standing by Scott's car, while Susan came slowly towards Jane, meeting her by a glorious bed of tropical shrubs which had been recently made to embellish the part of the lawn nearest to the hotel, a great curve having been cut out of the lawn to accommodate the additional bed. Deep red Chinese hibiscus flared in the sun; morning glory and golden shower and the brilliant flame vine contributed to the breathtaking beauty of the new addition to the already spectacular attractions of the grounds of the hotel. Above, bal­conies dripped with trailing vines, and palms waved everywhere against the blue of the Caribbean sky. Below, the coast of Bathsheba curved between the rocky spurs, and long white breakers spumed against the shore. Away on the landward skyline the sails of a windmill broke against the vivid blue, rising from the grounds of some plantation house among the sur­rounding acres of bright green sugar canes.

  'Wasn't Mr. Kingsley strange?' Susan spoke a trifle hesitantly, for she had grasped that there was some­thing unusual in the relationship existing between Jane and her employer. 'Imagine his wanting you today—Sunday. Surely he isn't expecting you to go do some work?'

  Clearly Susan was pumping, but Jane forgave her, fully understanding her curiosity.

  'I haven't any idea what he wants me for,' she re­plied frankly.

  'To tell you to leave your car like that,' went on Susan. 'How will you get to Driftwood House in the morning?'

  'I can take the hotel taxi.'

  'Yes… I suppose you can—'

  'Jane!' The call was abrupt and commanding. 'I'm waiting for you.'

  Jane actually found herself running towards the car.

  'I'm sorry,' she began, when Scott interrupted her.

  'I don't expect my employees to keep me waiting. Get into the car!' So imperious now that voice, and his eyes were hard as metal. But his whole manner changed as he turned once more to David. 'It's been a most satisfactory afternoon.' He smiled at Susan, who had just come up. 'Goodbye, Mrs. Shore,' and with a nod to David he slid into his seat and within seconds the car was purring along the avenue towards the road.

  Jane said quiveringly after a while,

  'Your attitude towards me has set the Shores won­dering.'

  'Wondering? What about?'

  'Well… as to the reason why you should be so—so sharp with me.' Quite without being conscious of it Jane allowed her voice to catch, and Scott turned swiftly to look at her. For a long moment he hesitated and then, just as abruptly as before,

  'You kept me waiting. I had every right to be sharp with you. When I give an employee of mine an order I expect it to be obeyed immediately. You not only took your time over changing but you also stopped to gossip to your friend, knowing full well that I was waiting.'

  'I didn't think. In any case, it is Sunday, and I was on a social visit to my friends.'

  'I require your services. You can have an hour or two off another day.'

  Jane said quietly,

  'I have to do something for you?'

  'Of course.'

  'But,' she murmured after a small pause, 'we aren't going to your house.'

  Again his head twisted and he regarded her profile.

  'And what makes you say that?'

  This isn't the right direction.'

  He smiled an odd little smile and said in a quizzical tone,

  'You're not afraid I might be carrying you off to some lonely place with the intention of—er—forcing my attentions upon you?'

  Jane coloured.

  'Are we going to do some work or aren't we?'

  'Careful, Jane,' he warned softly. 'No impertinence. You will keep forgetting that I'm your employer.'

  'I can scarcely forget that,' she retorted, 'when you come along and order me to leave my friends and ac­company you to—I don't know where!'

  'Order?' He mused on this for a space. 'I shouldn't have thought you'd mind in the least. After all, you're one of those women who enjoy being ordered about.'

  'I certainly am not!'

  One eyebrow slanted.

  'But you gave me to believe that you did.'

  'I? When?'

  'A long time ago, my dear. Surely you haven't changed? You do still want a tyrant for a husband… when the time comes for you to marry?'

  'I never said I wanted a tyrant for a husband.'

  'Not in so many words—' He broke off and swerved as a taxi carrying tourists came racing round a bend. 'Charlie,' he murmured, 'telling jokes as usual and not looking where he's going.' The native driver had been roaring with laughter and so had his fares. 'As I was saying,' continued Scott when once they had the road to themselves again, a road running through endless acres of sugar canes, 'you never actually said it, but you meant it. A master, you wanted, tyrannical and iron-handed—'

  'I did not want that kind of a man!' she broke in furiously. 'I merely wanted someone who wouldn't give in to me at every turn.'

  'I should think there are few men who would do that,' he commented after a little thoughtful silence, as if he were in the process of recollection. 'He wouldn't be a man if he did.'

  Jane gave a small sigh and asked where they were going.

  'Changing the subject, eh? Cowardly Jane,' he jeered. 'Where are we going? I'm taking you out to tea. Do you mind?'

  'To tea?' she gasped, her heart jerking in the most delicious way.

  'Need you exhibit such astonishment? We're only going to Sam Lord's Castle, not to the moon.'

  'Sam Lord's?'

  'Would you like to go somewhere else?'

  'I hadn't thought of going anywhere. You said you had some work for me to do.'

  'I don't recollect saying any such thing. I said I had things to discuss with you.'

  'I took it for granted that it appertained to work.'

  Scott ignored this and asked again if she would care to go somewhere else for tea.

  'No,' she said obligingly, 'Sam Lord's will be very nice.'

  'So there's no argument,' to himself, and she knew instinctively that he was recalling the time when she had deliberately set out to overrule him. And he had hoped she would make a similar endeavour now—when he would promptly have told her she was going to the place he had chosen. Well, she thought with some considerable satisfaction, she hadn't given him the chance of flaunting his authority over her.

  They were travelling south-east and on their right rose the spectacular height of Hackleton's Cliff, while to the left the windward coast spread towards the great expanse of blue sea and the horizon which merged hazily into it. From the parish of St. John they entered that of St. Philip and were soon driving towards the castellated Regency house situated in a dramatic trop­ical setting on the south-east coast of the island where the incessant roaring of the surf provided background music to the almost theatrical atmosphere of the dignified and imposing house which had such an interesting place in the history of the island, being the one-time stronghold of the infamous buccaneer Sam Lord who, with his gang of cut-throats, looted ships and murdered their crews after having lured them to the reefs by hanging lanterns in the trees, lanterns which when swinging in the breeze looked like lights on ships safely at anchor.

  Scott was known at the castle, now a modern luxury hotel, and he and Jane were shown to a table in a secluded corner with a view to the exotic gardens and the wooded region beyond.

  'You haven't expressed much surprise at my request that you should take tea with me.' Scott was in a most attractive mood all at once as, leaning back in his chair he looked across at her with an expression half amused, half admiring in his eyes.

  'Request?' she rep
eated sweetly, allowing a hint of humour to enter her own eyes.

  He laughed.

  'Now what do you want me to say to that, I wonder?'

  'Admit that it was an order.'

  He inclined his head.

  'All right, it was.'

  'And the reason for it?' Jane was happy, talking in this light vein to Scott. It reminded her of the man she had known long ago, the man with whom she so often talked in this manner. At that time he was more free and spontaneous, having no responsibilities of business as he had now. And he had been young for his age; he was young again, but not quite in the same way. Be­neath this youthful exterior lay the unmistakable fact of his maturity and of his concern with the business of making money.

  'I desired company.'

  Jane was reminded of what Susan had said about his not having much home life. He ought to have a wife, Susan had asserted—a wife whose chief interests would be him, his children and his home…

  Was he lonely? wondered Jane, and a shadow crossed her lovely face at the idea. Yet it was the life he had chosen, she instantly went on to remind herself. He could have been married long ago had he wished.

  She said rather timidly at last,

  'My company?'

  'Yes, Jane; your company.'

  She swallowed the little lump rising in her throat. Happy as she was there was still present the regret for what she had lost—no, not lost, but thrown away, deliberately and without even stopping to think that the day might dawn when she would suddenly wake up to the fact that she would give anything to retrieve what she had so carelessly cast away.

  'Here's the waiter,' she stammered awkwardly, quite unable to find anything to say in response to his quietly-spoken admission. 'We'd better be—be looking at—at the menu.'

  He had been gazing at her with a half grave, half amused expression and at her loss of composure a sus­pended smile broke, dispelling the gravity and streng­thening the humour.

  'I merely wanted a sandwich or two and a cup of tea.'

  'Is that all?'

  'You must have more. I'm sure you're hungry after your game of tennis.'

  The native waiter was smiling by the table, revealing a row of strong white teeth.

  'Sandwiches for me—' Scott flicked a hand towards Jane. 'The lady wants something more. Bring some of your delicious confections.'

  They ate and drank tea and chatted, then strolled in the beautiful grounds of the hotel which went down to one of the loveliest beaches in the Caribbean.

  'I ought to be getting back,' sighed Jane at last, her reluctance plainly revealed in her expression and her tone. 'Les will be wondering where I am.'

  Was it imagination or had a frown appeared fleetingly on Scott's brow?

  'We'll go back to Driftwood House and telephone him from there—unless you'd prefer to ring him from here?'

  She looked swiftly at him, puzzled.

  'Why should we go back to your house?'

  'For no especial reason.'

  Nonplussed, she could find nothing to say for a full minute and they continued to stroll among the flowers.

  'Les will expect me to be back for dinner,' she man­aged at last.

  That's a long time off.' He glanced down at her, eyes flickering over her face and hair and figure. 'In fact, you can have dinner with me.'

  Silence. It was a tense moment, full of strange vi­brations, deep and yet impalpable. Every nerve in Jane's body seemed alive to the profundity of the situ­ation as she and Scott stood very still in the quiet beauty of the tropical gardens, the balmy breeze from the blue ocean caressing their faces.

  Jane tried to make her voice light and half jesting, but wondered if she succeeded in hiding from Scott the fact that her emotions were heightened, her nerves tensed.

  'Is this another order?'

  'It could be.'

  'I might decide to disobey it.'

  'But I could enforce it.'

  'You could?' with sudden curiosity. 'How?'

  At that a hint of satirical amusement touched the corners of his mouth. The blue eyes came alive, as Jane had seen them come alive in the past.

  'Now, dear Jane, you're obviously asking for a dem­onstration, and this I can't give you until I have you at home… at my mercy.'

  The colour fluctuated in her cheeks; she had no idea just how appealing she was at this moment, with her big hazel eyes raised to his and her fingers locking and unlocking in a little nervous gesture of which she was wholly unconscious. Once again she attempted to assume a buoyant veneer as she said,

  'Your threats don't frighten me. I can hold my own.'

  He raised his eyebrows.

  'Is that a challenge?' he queried with mock sur­prise.

  'It could be,' she replied, borrowing his own phrase of a moment ago.

  'Ah… In that case, let's go home without further delay.'

  Jane laughed then, and it was a gay laugh such as she had not given for a long time. Scott's deep-set eyes fixed themselves on her face and he seemed for one astounding moment to be lost for words.

  It was Jane who broke the silence, presently saying,

  'What will you do if I refuse to go to your home?'

  'You forget, my dear,' was his rather dry rejoinder, 'that I have a hold over you.'

  'You'd force me to accompany you to your home?'

  'Without a doubt I would.' He paused, but she waited for him to continue. 'You don't appear too ap­prehensive at the idea of my forcing you to come home with me?'

  'I've been there many times already,' she reminded him.

  'As my secretary. It's not as my secretary that I'm taking you home today.'

  At this she forgot her light veneer and said, her eyes searching his face with a hint of anxiety in their depths,

  'Are you really quite serious about my coming to your home today?'

  'I thought I'd made it clear that I was serious.'

  'You want me to dine with you?'

  'Correct.'

  'I'm not dressed for dining out.'

  'We're not dining out.'

  Jane began shaking her head, recalling vividly the way he had forced his kisses on her and affirmed that they would find pleasure together. The way she felt today she was not at all sure she could put up a strong enough resistance should he decide once again to take her in his arms and tempt her. Deeply aware of her love for him, she decided that caution should overrule her more emotional temptation to accept his invitation and spend the evening at Driftwood House. The lush trop­ical setting in which the house stood was in itself a danger, being too romantic by far.

  'I must go back to Coral Gables,' she said at last.

  He looked questioningly at her.

  'I thought it was settled that we dined at my home?'

  'No… I must go back to Coral Gables,' she re­peated, a note of desperation creeping into her voice.

  Emphatically Scott shook his head, an implacable expression on his face.

  'I've just said I'd force you to dine with me,' he re­minded her.

  'You were joking, surely?'

  'No such thing. I was never more serious.' He began walking on again and she fell in beside him. They reached the car park and Jane hesitated.

  'I ought to go home—'

  'My dear girl,' he broke in with some asperity, 'get in and let's have no more fuss!'

  She obeyed, and it was only when they were on their way that she managed to speak, and even then it was only to say, rather feebly, that she should have tele­phoned her brother.

  'Do it from my house,' he said abruptly, and a silence once again fell between them. What was his object? she wondered, casting him a sidelong glance and noting the firm set profile, the bronzed skin and attractive brown hair, thick and shining as if it had only that moment been vigorously brushed.

  'Relax,' he told her eventually, 'and enjoy the drive. I'm going the long way round.' He flicked her a glance and she saw his sudden smile, that spontaneous smile which set her heart racing in spite of h
er efforts at control. 'You've viewed the scenery before, I expect but you'll appreciate it just the same.'

  His tone had lost its austere edge and Jane received the impression that he had almost allowed an element of gentleness to creep into it. She realized, not for the first time, that there were still remnants of the old Scott in his present make-up, although he invariably sup­pressed them.

  He drove back towards the windward coast and the rugged Bathsheba shoreline, more picturesque than ever in the early evening sunlight. Continuing along the east coast road he eventually cut across the island, passing through the rugged Scotland District and down the west coast, passing hotels with glamorous names like Sunset Lodge and Buccaneer Bay and Coconut Creek, each of which stood in exotic grounds with waving palms and magnificent views.

  At last they were at Driftwood House, and the car was brought smoothly to a halt at the front door. Polly opened it before Scott could use his key. She produced her customary broad smile and listened while Scott told her that he had brought a guest for dinner.

  'We will have something special,' she promised, and went away, in the direction of the kitchen.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The very excellent dinner was served in the high-ceilinged dining-room where tapestries adorned the walls and the furniture was old and mellowed. Candles lighted the table where gleamed silver plate and cutlery set on an exquisitely-embroidered tablecloth. A Derby dinner service completed a picture of luxury and gracious living, while the meal itself was the most de­licious Jane had ever eaten. It included the exotic flying fish and other Bajan dishes, with several kinds of fruit to follow. Coffee and liqueurs were served on the verandah which was also lit by candles, put there merely for effect and perhaps to supplement the moon­light a little.

  Scott reclined against a cushion and watched Jane as she sipped her drink.

  'I hope you've enjoyed the meal,' he said, breaking the long silence at last.

  'It was lovely, thank you.'

  'Glad you agreed to dine here?' An eyebrow slanted; he had a teasing expression in those vivid blue eyes.