The Way of a Tyrant Page 4

  'And how long is that?'

  'Twelve years. He's thirty-five.'

  'So old? You must be a great deal younger than he?'

  Again Jane frowned to herself.

  'He's eleven years older than I.'

  'Too much,' declared Mrs. Tolson emphatically. 'Men don't live as long as women in any case, and if you marry a man so much older then you're going to be left alone by the time you're fifty—just too old to get another husband.'

  Jane had to laugh.

  'I don't suppose I'd be wanting another husband,' she said, but the older woman was shaking her head.

  'A woman always wants a husband—unless she's abnormal. I want one, I might tell you! I'm looking all the while.'

  This time Jane was too diplomatic to laugh. She said, feigning interest,

  'How long have you been a widow, Mrs. Tolson?'

  'Five and a half years.' She gave a deep sigh. 'I do not like living alone, Mrs. Coates—' She broke off as Scott strolled across the thick carpet towards them. 'Now here,' she said sotto voce, 'is a man I could have my eye on were I a few years younger and he a few older. How is it that he's not married already? The women who've met him must be half asleep— Ah, Mr. Kingsley! Do join us, won't you?'

  'That was my intention,' he replied courteously, and took the chair opposite to her. His eyes flickered over Jane; he noted the soft flush on her cheeks, the shading of her eyes as though she were suddenly troubled about something, and he smiled faintly to himself. He leant back comfortably and stretched his long legs. The blue eyes moved to Jane's companion and a hint of amuse­ment entered their depths.

  'What have you been doing with yourself, Mr. Kingsley?' Mrs. Tolson's thick lips curved in a smile, stretching the skin tautly. 'I did see you earlier—this morning, it was—striding along all on your own in Bridgetown. It always intrigues me to see a presentable man on his own, Mr. Kingsley. Tell me, why aren't you married? Mrs. Coates here and I have in fact just been commenting on this phenomenon.'

  Starting in surprise and embarrassment, Jane would have been swift to deny making any comments about Scott, but she was prevented by his saying,

  'You have?' His eyes settled on Jane's face. 'I'm flat­tered at being so worthy of your interest.'

  Sarcastic creature! Jane's lips tightened and uncon­sciously she clenched her hand; Scott took notice of the angry movement and shot her a quizzical glance.

  'I was just remarking to Mrs. Coates that the women who've known you must have been half asleep.'

  'I don't think I understand?' The tone of icy pol­iteness, which would instantly have disconcerted Jane, passed over Mrs. Tolson's head.

  'You're a challenge to any ambitious young woman—single woman, I mean. It's rather a waste, you know, Mr. Kingsley, when a man like you remains foot­loose.'

  The smoky blue eyes flickered to Jane's face.

  'I'm afraid I'm not cut out for marriage, Mrs. Tolson,' he admitted suavely. 'As I was saying to Mrs.

  Coates only yesterday—why should a man take on responsibilities when he can have all the perks with­out?'

  Something strange stirred Jane's emotions. She found she was hating Scott's tone and the content of his words, and she wondered why she so disliked his speaking in this way.

  'One day, young man, you'll meet your match!' A podgy finger topped by a scarlet nail jabbed at the aim of Mrs. Tolson's chair. 'Cleverer men than you have been caught!'

  Scott's face darkened. That he was not at all pleased with Mrs. Tolson was abundantly clear. However, he retained his pleasant manner for a few minutes longer before saying to Jane,

  'I wonder if I can trouble you, Mrs. Coates? There's a small matter I would like to discuss with you pri­vately.'

  'Of course.' Her heart had jerked at his request and as she rose felt strangely weak in the legs. 'Excuse me, Mrs. Tolson.'

  'Come back as soon as you can, dear. I must have someone to talk to.'

  'I'll try,' Jane premised, but went on to add that she would probably have to help her husband. As soon as they were out of Mrs. Tolson's hearing Jane looked anxiously into her companion's face as they crossed the lounge. 'Wh-what do you want to see me about?'

  He dropped her a shrewd glance and smiled to him­self.

  'You sound uncommonly anxious, Jane. Is some­thing troubling you?'

  'Troubling me?' she hedged. 'No, why do you ask a thing like that?'

  'Your expression, and your tone,' he returned, an amused edge to his voice. And then he said, after a small hesitation, 'As a matter of fact, I was merely rescuing you from our friend Mrs. Tolson.'

  She blinked.

  'You were?' They had reached the front entrance to the hotel and Scott stopped, his gaze on the cheerful native taxi-driver who, having brought his fares to the hotel, now stood with the door open waiting for them to alight. 'That was thoughtful of you,' Jane mur­mured, and Scott brought his blue eyes down to her face.

  'You looked so bored that I took pity on you,' he informed her quietly.

  'You mean, you came over to us for that precise purpose?'

  'Correct.' He seemed to lose interest suddenly, and his eyes took on an abstracted look. 'One would scar­cely seek out a woman like Mrs. Tolson merely for the pleasure of her conversation.' His attention was caught again, this time by Les, who was walking very slowly towards the entrance, accompanying a very old lady who was getting along by the aid of a stick. 'Your husband appears to be a most patient man,' he ob­served. 'And sympathetic too. I'm inclined to think he keeps his he-man qualities just for you.' Subtle tones and fringed with a sort of mocking satire. Jane went red as she followed the direction of Scott's gaze. No one could look less masterful than her brother. Of little more than average height, he was slimly built and al­though his shoulders were wide they gave no im­pression of hidden strength. His features were benign rather than firm, his mouth gave evidence of a com­passionate nature, his brown eyes rarely wore a hard expression. His ready smile appeared when he saw Scott and Jane standing there.

  'Will you be all right now, Mrs. Baker?' he asked, and she nodded gratefully.

  'It was nice of you to walk with me Mr. Coates,' she said. 'I do manage, you know, but I have more confidence if someone's with me. Now, I know you've promised to walk with me again tomorrow morning, but if you're busy then don't let that promise trouble you; I shall understand.' She smiled at him and then at the other two. 'I'm off to my room now, and you'll see my dinner is sent up, won't you?'

  'Certainly, Mrs. Baker.'

  'Isn't she a dear old lady?' Jane spoke impulsively, already having taken a liking to their oldest guest, who was eighty-seven and still travelling all over the world. 'She's a marvel! I hope I have her courage when I'm her age.'

  Scott turned his head and stared at Jane with an odd expression. Her eyes were clear and bright, her mouth curved in a smile that was almost tender as she watched the old lady moving with difficulty towards the lift.

  'She's a good conversationalist too,' Les was say­ing. 'There's never a dull moment when you're with her.'

  'I haven't talked with her yet,' said Scott, 'but I must. As Jane says, she's a marvel.'

  Les glanced swiftly at him; it was the first time he had heard him call his sister by her name. There was something familiar about the way he used it, so casu­ally, as if he had a perfect right to—and yet he always referred to Les as Mr. Coates.

  'It's an odd situation,' he was saying to Jane a short while later as they sat for a few moments in their pri­vate sitting-room, which was on the first floor, close to the bedroom used by Les. 'He calls you Jane, while I, as your husband, am always referred to by my sur­name.'

  'It's because he's known me before.'

  'I admit this. But now that he's our employer you'd think he'd be more formal.'

  It was a strange thing, but Jane was quite unable to regard Scott as her boss.

  'I expect he'd find difficulty in calling me Mrs. Coates.'

  Les became thoughtful.


  'When he discovered who you are—or, more cor­rectly, who you're supposed to be—didn't he comment on the fact of your not having changed your name on your marriage?'

  'Yes; I mentioned that to you when I told you all about it.'

  'Did you, Jane? I'm sorry. I mustn't have been listening.' He became lost in thought again and then added, 'It's obvious that he's forgotten your brother's name was Leslie.'

  She nodded.

  'For which I'm overwhelmingly grateful,' she re­turned. 'I had a grim few minutes after suspecting that he might have guessed at the deception—and at that time I hadn't learned that he was our employer.'

  'If you had it would have been ten times worse, of course.'

  'Without doubt it would!'

  'We're darned lucky that his memory's not all that good.'

  'It could just be that I never mentioned your name. We never really became so intimate that he and I ex­changed confidences, or entered into details about our respective families. I knew he had a father and a sister; he was aware I had a brother. But you know how it is sometimes—you say "my brother" or "my sister" and the actual names don't come out. I have no idea what his sister's name is.'

  'He never mentioned it to you?'

  'I don't think so. If he did I've forgotten it.'

  'So it's the same with Scott.' Les looked at her curi­ously. 'What made you refuse him? You'd have done well for yourself if you'd accepted him.'

  'We weren't suited.'

  'I imagine he's most girls' idea of the perfect man.'

  'Because he's handsome, you mean?'

  Not only that. He seems to have everything—phys­ique, personality, strength of character.'

  Strength of character…

  'At the time,' she owned, 'I thought he was rather weak.'

  Les's eyes widened.

  'Weak? In what way?'

  'I always managed to get my own way with him,' she replied, but with some reluctance, for it wasn't at all easy to discuss Scott with her brother. 'He gave in to me far too easily.'

  Les smiled faintly.

  'Like all women you wanted a man with cave-man tendencies, is that it?'

  Despite herself she had to laugh.

  'I didn't want a husband I could twist around my little finger.'

  'You'd never have twisted Scott round your little finger,' he affirmed. 'Whatever gave you that idea?'

  'It wasn't an idea, it was a fact. I had only to argue and he capitulated, immediately. I had the impression that he was afraid of incurring my displeasure.'

  'He capitulated?' Les spoke disbelievingly. 'It doesn't seem possible!'

  'Not now,' she readily agreed. 'He's changed con­siderably.'

  'He must have, for I'm sure no woman would get him to capitulate now. He strikes me as a man who, when he marries, will assert his will right from the start.'

  She nodded in agreement.

  'I saw the change at once. It staggered me.'

  A small silence and then,

  'Do you think your refusal had anything to do with the change? I mean—did he know why you refused him?'

  'I told him, yes. I had to,' she added hastily as Les threw her a surprised glance. 'He wanted to know why I was refusing him.'

  'So your refusal could have had something to do with this change, a change which, from what I can gather, is more than a little dramatic' Les was shaking his head even as he spoke. 'I don't believe Scott ever was weak. A man doesn't change like that. His character is what it is and that's the way it stays. It's my belief that he loved you so much that he let you have all your own way.'

  She was frowning heavily. Was this the truth? Had Scott been basically strong but so much in love that he couldn't bear to deny her anything? She bit her lip so hard that she thought she would feel blood in her mouth. She was recalling the fact that his face had remained clearly imprinted on her mind all these years; she also reflected on the circumstance of his grip­ping her arms when she had bumped into him last eve­ning. Emotions had undeniably been stirred by his touch… and so had her memory. The touch of Scott's hands had always been a most pleasant sensation. She remem­bered her disappointment at what at the time she had assumed to be his weakness; she had admitted to herself that if only he had asserted himself, displayed a little mastery so that she was made to realize she would not always be allowed her own way, the affair might have ended differently. Not that she would have consented to marry him right away; she was not sufficiently at­tracted to him at that time. But most certainly she would not have refused him with such finality. She would have suggested they continue going about together, giving her the time to discover her feelings for him.

  And what would she have discovered…?

  Jane swallowed to remove a strange dryness in her throat. It struck her only now that not once in these past four years had any other man appealed to her. Could this mean that, subconsciously, Scott occupied some important place in her heart and mind?

  She spoke at last, a brooding, bewildered expression in her eyes.

  'He's changed in other ways. He's cynical and sar­castic. He gave me to understand that he's found women easy and therefore marriage doesn't appeal to him. I gained the impression that he's contemptuous of all women, not merely those with whom he—er…' Her words died away, bringing a smile to her brother's face.

  'Those with whom he's amused himself?'

  Jane nodded.

  'Yes, that's what I meant.'

  Les became lost in thought.

  'Is there any possibility of your falling for him—now that his stronger qualities have been displayed?'

  She shook her head, but it was an automatic ges­ture.

  'I don't expect I shall be seeing very much of him once he's settled in his house.'

  'You've not answered my question, Jane.'

  She looked across at her brother, noticing the anx­iety in his eyes.

  'Don't worry, Les; Scott isn't interested in me any more. In any case, he's the last man to become en­tangled with a married woman, especially the wife of one of the company's employees.'

  'I expect you're right,' thoughtfully but with a grow­ing frown. 'He must have loved you once—and doesn't it strike you as strange that he's never married?'

  'I feel that, as you suggested, my refusal did have some far-reaching effect en him, bringing about this other change I mentioned, the cynicism he displays, the sarcasm and—sort of—mockery which seems always to be with him. He probably experienced only hurt at first, when I turned down his offer of marriage, but then he must have become bitter and this led auto­matically to this attitude he adopts towards marriage.' She shook her head. 'He won't ever be interested in me again, Les, so there's no need for you to worry about a situation where I shall want to confess our deceit to Scott.'

  'You're sure? I'd much rather tell him now, Jane, than have to do it later. If I'm to be sacked then let it be before I've put down any roots on this island.'

  'You won't ever have to tell him,' she returned with conviction. 'As I've said, Scott isn't interested in me any more.'

  CHAPTER THREE

  The following morning Jane met Scott almost at the crack of dawn. Intent on seeing the sunrise from over the hills, she had risen early and was in the garden be­fore any but the native servants in the hotel were stir­ring. She had naturally expected to have the entire glory of the morning to herself, and her dismay on seeing Scott emerge from the hotel brought a deep frown to her forehead.

  'Hello,' was his cheerful greeting, and she managed a smile.

  'Good morning, Mr. Kingsley,' she returned, and he gave a quick gust of laughter.

  'I expect your husband has given you instructions to address me with respect… or has he ordered you to do so?' with mocking humour that brought the colour to her cheeks, a circumstance that appeared to increase his amusement enormously, for the blue eyes came alight, in that particular way that she remembered so well from far back in the past. 'An order would, I believe, afford you immense pleasure�
��' He stopped and laughed. 'Is it pleasure a woman derives from being dominated? Or excitement—or what? Do en­lighten me, Jane. I'm such a fool where women are concerned… or is that an exaggeration? I can't re­member exactly what you said. I do recall that you implied I had no strength of character.' He was mock­ing her, and thoroughly enjoying himself in the process. Her colour deepened as she became more and more disconcerted. This man was an enigma, someone she had never known before, nor ever would know, she thought, feeling strangely flat at the prospect of his leaving the hotel. And this was absurd, simply because she and Les would be far more comfortable once he had made his departure. 'Well, Jane, aren't you going to answer me? What emotion does a woman experience on being subjugated? I'd like to know, just for future reference.'

  She gave him a speaking glance and said chok­ingly,

  'I haven't asked for this, Scott—'

  'So we're back to Scott again, are we? Watch it, Jane, or your lord and master might decide to chastise you. I think you'd better do as you're bid and treat me with respect.' She found nothing to say and he added, the light of mocking satire bringing life to those vivid blue eyes again, 'You're not all joy at the moment. Are you afraid I'll give your husband the sack?'

  At that she started visibly.

  'You wouldn't, Scott—Mr. Kingsley. Please say you won't take it out of my husband?'

  A flicker of his eyelashes hid his expression momen­tarily. When presently he spoke his angular dark face was inscrutable.

  'I might be lacking in strength of character and the rest,' he said crisply, 'but spite doesn't rank among my failings. Your husband seems to be most efficient and conscientious and I believe he'll be a great asset to our company.' Grave tones and the smile had gone from his eyes and mouth. He was the businessman, giving praise where praise was due.

  'Thank you,' she said, breathing a sigh of relief. 'It's nice of you to say this. My husband will be happy to know that you're satisfied with what you see here.'