That Tender Feeling (15 page)

‘In Miles's profession, he has to appear friendly on the surface with people he wouldn't otherwise tolerate. Acting as his hostess, I have to back him to the hilt.'

‘I understand.'

‘No, you don't, not yet. I haven't told you everything. There's something that momentarily slipped my mind when I invited you to stay with us. We're having a party tomorrow evening. As you know, we always have a New Year's Day party. That way we get everybody, because most people have their parties on New Year's Eve.'

‘Yes. So?'

‘Jarvis is on the guest list.'

‘You want me to make myself scarce?'

‘Heaven forbid! I want you there. You're always a useful extra pair of hands. I didn't know how you'd feel about coming face to face with him again, that's all.'

‘I don't feel a thing either way. So stop fussing.'

‘It's a brave girl who tells my sister to stop fussing,' Miles announced at the door. ‘One suitcase,' he said, coming in and setting it down. ‘I hope there's a pretty dress in there.'

‘There is,' Ros assured him.

‘I was just telling Rosalynd about the party tomorrow evening,' Hannah said.

‘Ros doesn't need telling about that. It's a ritual. The new year couldn't start without our party. I was thinking of the one we're going to this evening at the Searle's and wondering if Ros might care to gate crash.'

‘M'mm . . . yes! Better than that. I'll give Naomi Searle a ring and ask if we may bring Rosalynd.'

‘No,' Ros said, feeling that it was time she stood up to Hannah. ‘I'd much prefer to stay here.'

There was a limit to how far one could be swept along, but that wasn't her sole reason for her determination not to go with them to the party. Only just parted, and she was missing Cliff terribly. She didn't want to put on a social face and say all the right things to all the wrong people. She wanted to be by herself and think of Cliff.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next day, Miles suggested she leave her car in the garage and offered to drive her to the place where the book-signing session was going to be held. He delivered her, coming in and staying long enough to have a word or two with people he knew, and said he'd return for her later to take her home.

It was a good day. Time passed quickly, and she couldn't believe it when Miles came back for her.

‘Ready?'

‘As soon as I collect my coat.'

She returned to the table she'd been using to find Miles in conversation with a man. At first, she thought he was a latecomer wanting a book autographed, but he turned to her in the manner of someone who knew her.

‘I was just inquiring after you, Miss Seymour,' he said. ‘I saw the ad in the newspaper about today, but I couldn't get here any sooner, and I thought I must have missed you.'

He was of average height with a shock of gray hair and the weathered skin of someone who has spent much of his life out-of-doors. She wasn't too good on ages, but she gauged him to be about twenty years her senior. She couldn't remember ever having met him before, but obviously she must have. That he was talking to Miles auto-suggested to her that it must have been at Miles's house. Miles and Hannah entertained a lot, and it was difficult to keep track of all the people she'd met there.

‘If you'd been any later, you would have missed me, Mr.—'

‘Edward.' He cut in so swiftly that she was saved the embarrassment of floundering. ‘Mr. Banks sounds so formal.'

Thank you, Mr. Banks. Edward Banks. The name meant as little to her as his face did.

There was a tension about Miles. He looked as uncomfortable as a man whose shoes are too tight for him. Had he had an argument with Edward Banks at some time? But then Miles killed this thought of hers by turning to the other man, a broad, genuine smile on his face.

‘My sister and I are throwing a party tonight, Edward. Why don't you come along?'

‘Thank you, yes. I'd love to.'

Miles took a small printed card from his pocket. ‘In that case, you'll need the address.'

Ros didn't think anything strange in this. Miles had moved house about eight months before, so it was probable for someone who had temporarily dropped out of the social scene not to know where he lived.

The three of them chatted for a while longer. Ros wished she could bring Edward Banks back to memory. It would have helped the conversation along. She was surprised that her mind was such a blank. It wasn't as if he was an insignificant little man, easily forgotten; he had a forceful, likable personality.

On the way back to Miles's house, she considered asking Miles about him. She said nothing, bowing to ego—she didn't want to admit to Miles that she was slipping. Perhaps when she met Edward Banks later at the party, something might click.

Miles and Hannah's parties were always swish affairs. Ros, knowing about the New Year's Day ritual and anticipating an invitation, had packed accordingly, selecting the lovely ice-blue gown she had rejected in favor of the more sensuous green when Cliff had wined and dined her just before Christmas. The bright color of her hair struck a note of contrast to the cool elegance of the dress. She decided to wear her hair down, the way Cliff liked it. Would Cliff always dictate her thoughts, even after—? No, she mustn't think about that. She must look optimistically to the future. She couldn't believe that Cliff was going to die. Medical science had made enormous strides, different methods of treatment were tried, new miracle drugs were being discovered all the time.

Her door opened after a peremptory warning tap, and Hannah walked in looking very sophisticated in black, a color she tended to favor; and it did enhance her blond beauty. She smelled expensively of Bal à Versailles.

Ros hoped that Hannah would read the extra brightness in her eyes—that thoughts of Cliff had brought—as party excitement.

‘Rosalynd, how lovely you look.'

‘So do you, Hannah. But then you always do look gorgeous.'

They went down together. On these occasions, Ros was inevitably roped in to do the food. But as she hadn't been on hand, a firm of caterers had been hired. Everything was in order, looking appetizing and decorative on a long buffet table. The sofas and chairs had been pushed against the walls to give more center space for circulating and for a carpet shuffle should anyone get the urge to dance to the background stereo music. The ringing of the doorbell heralded the arrival of the first lot of guests.

To begin with, people arrived in a trickle, but then everyone seemed to come at once, and the party was in full swing. It wasn't long before Jarvis came to find her. She had buckled in straightaway, taking round a tray of food, and had stayed chatting with the group that had relieved her of the remaining cocktail snacks. Jarvis took the empty tray from her hand, reared it against the wall, hooked his arm through hers and walked her away to a relatively quiet corner. ‘Where we can talk,' he said.

Ros felt there was nothing to talk to Jarvis about, but one or two speculative eyebrows had risen at his approach and subsequent conduct. To make a fuss would have been to refute the ‘parting by mutual consent' propaganda Jarvis had put around.

‘You're looking exceptionally attractive this evening, Ros,' he said.

‘And you are looking your usual debonair self. But really, Jarvis,' she said, her party smile firmly in place, ‘is there any purpose in this?'

‘What's the harm in saying hello to an old friend?'

‘Hello, old friend. Now I really must help Hannah, so if you'll excuse me—'

‘Running out on me? That's not very cordial. I see I shall have to take you in hand again.'

‘I'm flattered that you should want to, but no.'

‘You can't cancel out what we had so easily, Ros.'

‘Can't I? You did!'

Choosing to ignore that barb, he said, ‘That damned cottage was at the root of our troubles. You thought more about it than you did of me. All that nostalgic wallowing into your childhood was unhealthy. You should have been concentrating on the future, our future together.'

‘We haven't got one, Jarvis. I'm sorry.'

‘You can't mean that. When you went away, you led me to believe there was a chance that we'd get back together.'

‘But later I said that you should consider yourself free. I had to get away to think things over, but I didn't tie you down to a possibility that might never happen. I think I knew then that it was over between us.'

‘I want you back, Ros.'

‘It's no good, Jarvis. Anyway, what about Glenis?'

‘We rowed. We aren't talking now. So you see, you don't have anything to worry about in that direction. I've learned my lesson. I'll behave myself if you'll give me another chance.' His lower lip jutted out in the manner of a small chastened boy. In the old days, it had never failed to bring a smile to her mouth, but it did nothing at all for her now.

‘I'm sorry things didn't work out for you and Glenis, because I think you were made for each other.' She could have said
deserved each other.
Had he gotten the inflection, or had he been on the verge of turning nasty anyway?

‘Have you met someone else?' he asked sourly.

‘Yes,' she admitted.

‘That didn't take long.' Two couples were taking advantage of a record that was being played and shuffling in time to the music. Jarvis wasn't so lacking in perception that he didn't know she was on the point of walking away from him. ‘Dance?' he said, a sneer on his handsome mouth as his arm went round her waist, effectively trapping her.

‘I don't want to dance with you.'

‘I suppose you'd rather be dancing with him?' he said, his fingers digging cruelly deep into her flesh.

‘Yes. Too true I would!'

‘Is it Miles? I always did think his attitude was a bit too fond. And it won't have taken him long to figure out that there's more glory in being your husband than your agent. And, after all, he did land the contract for you.'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘Celebrities aren't usually so modest. The slot you're doing for television, what else? Miles thinks you're going somewhere. Can't blame the guy for making sure he holds on to you.'

‘Is that why you wanted me?' she gasped.

‘No, of course not!' The vehement denial would have had more backing if he'd been able to meet her eyes and if its cutting edge hadn't been dulled by embarrassment. ‘We were friendly before the television company approached you.'

‘Friendly before, yes! But you didn't propose to me until afterward! I've been a bigger fool than I thought,' she said, dignity masking her dismay. ‘It isn't any of your business, but it isn't Miles. His attitude toward me is that of a good friend, which is what he is. Now, will you please release me.'

Instead of doing as she asked, he tightened his arm around her. It was strange to feel revulsion at close physical contact with a man she had been on the brink of marrying. If they had married, she would have had to submit to more than this unwelcome public fondling, and she realized that she'd had an even luckier escape than she'd thought. Repugnance stiffened her body as his hand slid lower than her waist, and that adverse response made Jarvis angrier still.

‘Loosen up, you might enjoy it.'

‘I'll enjoy kicking you on the shins if you don't stop this.'

‘Why should I?' It must have occurred to Jarvis that he'd burned his boats and had nothing more to lose. ‘You've got the kind of body a man likes to warm his hands on. Has he warmed his hands on you yet, Ros? The color of your hair sets my senses on fire—but all there is underneath is ice.'

‘Don't blame me for your shortcomings,' she was stung to retaliate.

‘What's that supposed to mean?'

‘During our courtship, you convinced me I was cold. It took a man of sensitivity to show me that I'm not.'

‘You are cold. You're incapable of melting.'

‘If that's what you want to think.'

‘I can't believe it! You led me on all that time. You can't have known him two seconds, because you certainly weren't two-timing me, and I do believe you've slept with him.'

Ros was regretting drawing out Jarvis. She had attacked his masculinity, and he wasn't going to let her get away with that. He intended to avenge himself. She wasn't going to be able to escape without causing an ugly scene. Abhorrent as the idea of that was, she knew she had no other choice.

She couldn't believe her good fortune when a hand tapped Jarvis on the shoulder and a male voice said, ‘I'm cutting in.' By the time he added, ‘Is that all right with you, Miss Seymour?' Ros was already in Edward Banks's arms, beaming a smile of gratitude that radiated halfway across the room.

‘Ros,' she said, ‘please call me Ros. I'll just call you Sir Galahad.'

He laughed. ‘You looked as if you needed rescuing. He seemed very steamed up.'

‘My fault. I baited him, and what's more I enjoyed doing it.'

‘He must have deserved it.'

‘He did!'

‘That's emphatic.'

‘It still doesn't excuse me. I very nearly caused a dreadful scene in someone else's house. Miles would have taken it in stride, but Hannah would have been horrified.'

‘Hannah?'

‘Miles's sister.' Assuming that he had merely lost sight of their hostess for a moment, Ros said, ‘She's over there, looking her usual lovely self. Between the man in the blue velvet jacket and the girl in red. Do you see her?'

‘Ah . . .yes!'

‘Blondes always look fantastic in black, don't you think?'

‘Not all blondes, but that one certainly does.' His eyes were full of lively appreciation. ‘Hannah is a very striking woman.'

When the record ended. Miles appeared. ‘Edward, my dear fellow, I'm afraid I'm neglecting my duties as a host. I haven't introduced you to anyone yet. If I may drag you away from Ros, I'll take you on the rounds. Hopefully, I won't flounder. In a crush like this, names get evasive, and I get confused over who are our friends and who are friends' friends. At this time of the year, people seem to have house guests, and I always say, “bring them with you.” The more the merrier is my motto.'