A Masterful Man

'I'm not doing anything,' he said roughly. 'Merely commenting.'

'If you had any… if you were any sort of a-'

'Gentleman?' he supplied.

'Yes. You wouldn't even comment-'

'I don't know that being honest is not being gentlemanly,' he said irritably. 'Do women honestly prefer the latter to the former?'

She took a breath and decided to ignore this. 'What makes you so sure about the release and solace and not, for example, all sorts of turmoil and trauma?' she queried starkly.

He stopped walking and turned her to face him. 'Can I tell you some things about yourself, Davina?' He didn't wait as she opened her mouth to protest. 'You're twenty-five, you were never made to sleep alone all your life- OK, so you have some cause to be bitter and wary, but I can picture you before it all happened. I can picture you as being warm and generous and full of life as well as intelligent and spirited. Do you know what's left? A beautiful face and figure-and an overburdened spirit that's often caustic and sometimes downright sour. And all because you're heaping the sins of one man on all of us. Do you know the only times when the old you shines through? When you're photographing or talking about it, and when you're with Candice,' he said significantly. 'You're like a different person.'

She stared up into his hooded eyes for a long moment. Then she said, 'Damn you, Steve Warwick. You've got no idea what it's like to be virtually raped on your wedding night, so don't preach to me.'

'You shouldn't have married him, Davina.'

'There's one little detail I forgot to mention,' she said curtly. 'Not only was my father likely to go bankrupt, there was a strong possibility he could go to gaol for misrepresentation to his shareholders-could you have stood by and seen that happen to your father if you'd had the means at hand to prevent it?'

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. 'Davina, I'm sorry. But, look, even if it's not to be me, don't wear it like a thorny crown for the rest of your life.' And, in another surprising gesture, he raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. 'You'd better go to bed now.' And he turned away abruptly and disappeared into the darkness, away from the house.

She put her knuckles uncertainly to her lips, then turned herself and stumbled up the drive.

CHAPTER SIX

Was he right?

The thought crossed Davina's mind time and time again over the next couple of days. And she realised that perhaps what had shaken her most was how Steve Warwick had so accurately captured her 'before' and 'after' image. But the other thing that she had at the back of her mind all the time was the feeling that he'd really washed his hands of her this time-and the little shaft of pain the thought of that brought.

There were certainly no further demonstrations of any interest on his part, not that she saw a great deal of him. But when they did cross paths, he treated her perfectly normally, which was to say, as usual, that depended entirely on his mood. He was certainly not an easy man to live with, although his grandmother and his stepmother would be enough to try the patience of a saint, she caught herself thinking once with a curious mixture of humour and wryness, and caught her breath as she wondered if there wasn't a little streak of tenderness in her thoughts as well.

Fortunately, just as Loretta had predicted, Lavinia did get herself into party mode and decided to kick off the proceedings with a cocktail party for thirty people, a combination of island residents and some very interesting people she'd met, she said.

Does she waylay them on the beach? Davina wondered. Loretta answered that on another occasion. Apparently, Lavinia consulted the register of the Warwick guest-house for likely candidates. All the same, the preparations for the party gave Davina little time for much else. And little time to notice that Loretta was acting in a slightly mysterious manner-that was to say, she didn't notice at all that Loretta had commandeered the sewing- machine from a laundry cupboard because she'd been unaware of its existence, and was unaware that a lot of the time she supposedly was taking a siesta, Loretta was actually doing something quite different.

In fact, the mystery didn't reveal itself until the afternoon of the party. Davina had wondered if Lavinia would insist she attend and had geared herself to refuse quite categorically but the subject hadn't come up- perhaps Lavinia had assumed it was a fait accompli?

Then Loretta came downstairs and into the kitchen at about three o'clock with a pile of violet material in her arms that she held up dramatically to reveal as a dress.

'Oh, that's lovely,' Davina said, as she polished glasses. 'Should suit you beautifully.' And noticed Candice, who was helping her, glance at her strangely. Lavinia was also in the kitchen filling crystal and silver bowls with nuts.

'Not me, you!' Loretta said triumphantly.

Davina put down her tea-towel. 'What do you mean?'

'I've altered this dress for you to wear tonight. I've never worn it myself and, contrary to what you believe, my dear Davina, this colour will suit you much better than it would suit me because it matches your eyes almost exactly.'

Davina counted to five then said steadily, 'But I'm not coming to the party, Loretta.'

'Of course you are!' Lavinia intervened. 'Apart from anything else, Loretta has spent so much time making you a dress!'

Davina narrowed her eyes. 'You-don't tell me you two have been in cahoots over this?'

Loretta gurgled. 'Strange, indeed impossible as that sounds, nevertheless it's true.'

Davina rose and said stiffly, 'Well, I'm sorry to have to break up this entente cordiale but I'm not coming as a guest, and that's that. For heaven's sake, there's enough to do as it is!' she added feelingly.

'Such as what?' Lavinia enquired. 'The cold snacks are made-so are the hot ones. The chicken wings, savoury pastries and those lovely little sausage rolls you made only need heating up at the right time. Between us, we can cope with that. And Steven is a very good barman!'

'I can help him there,' Candice chimed in. 'He showed me how to pour champagne once.'

'No.'

'Davina!' all three entreated.

'Look,' a different voice said, 'just leave her be.'

They all swung round to see Steve leaning his shoulders against the doorframe and regarding them impatiently.

'Thank you,' Davina murmured.

'But why?' Loretta said fervently.

'It's got nothing to do with you, Loretta,' he replied curtly. 'If Davina prefers to be a recluse, that's her affair. As for all this partying,' he turned to his grandmother irritably, 'just don't get carried away, Lavinia, because it's not particularly how I enjoy spending my rather precious time on this island.'

Lavinia snorted. 'You're in some danger of becoming a recluse yourself these days, Steven Warwick!' she retorted.

'Then, beloved, that is entirely my affair, too. Just don't push it, Lavinia,' he warned.

Lavinia sighed frustratedly. 'I had so hoped you'd be in a good mood this evening,' she said mournfully.

'I will be, so long as there's no more of this nonsense.' And he turned to Candice and said lightly, 'What do you intend to wear, pumpkin?' Which was an occasional endearment he used that appeared not to faze his prickly half-sister at all. Indeed, she looked gratified and told him that Davina had starched and pressed one of her dresses and promised to blow-dry her hair so that she could wear it loose.

'What would we all do without Davina?' was his only comment, although it was loaded with irony and accompanied by a curiously mocking little look at Davina, not lost on any of them, as he strolled out again. 'He can be so difficult sometimes!' his grandmother bemoaned.

'He can also be a right bastard sometimes,' his stepmother reflected.