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‘For a small island,’ she observed, ‘we seem to have travelled a long distance from the airport.’

‘We are nearly there,’ he told her. ‘Soon you will meet Nicole de Speville—if not Marlow Lewis.’

Jade remained silent and then he said, ‘We were talking about jade. Apart from the house, I own a chalet which is in the beautiful grounds of the hotel and this chalet
is
set like a piece of pale jade on the green lawn.’

‘You sound like a very fortunate person,’ she answered, ‘to own both a house and a chalet.’ While she was speaking, she found herself wondering what Marlow’s plantation house was like. She would go there after she was married. Marlow had written to say that it was close enough to the health clinic for her to travel there in the little Mini he was going to provide for her.

‘I think about it all the time,’ Laurent told her, ‘make no mistake. I know I am fortunate.’

A gauzy heat seemed to hang over the island. It all seemed so unreal, she thought, aware of the handsome man beside her and frightened about what it was that was happening to her. She couldn’t stop what was happening to her, and she fussed with her bracelet and caught her breath when his fingers caught her own.

‘Why are you so nervous?’ he asked. He lifted her hand and put it on the seat, beside his thigh, still holding it, and she could feel the warmth of it and the warmth of those strong, tanned fingers. He transferred his fingers to her wrist and kept her hand there, close to him. ‘When you arrive,’ he went on, ‘you will enjoy an island cocktail, I think.' He turned to look at her. ‘Are you feeling the heat?’

‘No—not after Australia,' she answered, trying to keep her voice light and easy but finding this difficult.

‘Marlow Lewis is an Australian, I know,’ he said. ‘You, however, do not strike me as being Australian. Why is this, do you think? Is it because of your very British accent?’

‘I am British,’ she told him. ‘I was only a year in Australia. I went there with my brother Jeffrey. He and Marlow....’ She broke off, remembering. ‘A-and
you
? Were you on holiday in Australia?’

‘No. I merely went there to purchase one or two rare pieces of porcelain from a private collection there.’

She was curious. ‘Do you collect porcelain, then?’

He seemed to be thinking for a moment. ‘It is a long story. You see, my family in France were all collectors. When I was, let me see, about eighteen years, my mother purchased a pair of flambé Sung Dynasty vases and I was intrigued. I was attracted to Chinese porcelain. My own first pieces were very expensive, I can tell you.' He laughed suddenly. ‘Perhaps this is why they became the foundation for my collection. I search for values, not bargains. To my mind, a bargain-hunter loses out. That is how I started. From being a collector, I went into business. In France, of course, and then I came out here and started a business here in Curepipe.'

Suddenly he laughed. ‘Don’t for a moment, please, think that my life revolved around famille rose and gold
medaillon.
I was interested in sport, study, friends ...
girls.’
He lifted her hand and placed her wrist against his lips, gave her a challenging look and then he became serious. ‘You were talking about your brother Jeffrey—and Marlow.’

‘Yes.’ Jade lifted her shoulders, ‘Well, they went into partnership together. Marlow had a sheep station there and, using an inheritance from my father, Jeffrey became part-owner. He’d met Marlow while on holiday in Australia, and then I joined Jeffrey in Australia.'

‘He is still running this sheep station ?' Laurent spoke against her wrist and Jade could feel his warm breath there. The tune which someone had whistled on the plane as it landed came to her mind
—The Way We Were.

‘Jeffrey is no longer alive,' she said, very softly.

Taking her wrist from his lips and placing her hand back on the soft leather seat, he said, ‘I see. I am sorry.’

‘Last year he lost his life in an air crash.' Her voice was suddenly flat.

‘That explains everything to me, of course. Your fear of flying,' he said.

‘I was in that plane,' she went on. ‘So was Marlow. The plane—a light one—actually belonged to Marlow and Jeffrey crashed it. It was Jeffrey’s fault. We moved into heavy cloud. Marlow was saying something to Jeffrey and he sounded angry. Before that, I’d noticed a road below, and then we saw the mountain. Jeffrey swerved the plane—upwards. There was another girl in the plane with us. She was killed. She was engaged to Marlow. After that it all remains a complete blank to me, but it was the pain I was feeling that forced me to try to pull myself together. We were all outside the plane. I was on my back, with the wing almost on top of me. There were cars on the road, far below, but of course we—Marlow and I—couldn’t reach them. We were hurt. I didn't even know that Jeffrey and Elisa were dead. Everything blacked out again and the next thing I remember was people with blankets and hot coffee. We were taken to an ambulance by helicopter and then to hospital. They said how Marlow and I survived was a miracle, I spent three months on my back. I vowed I’d never fly again. I can’t even bear to hear a plane above me, let alone fly in one.’

He was quiet for such a long time, giving his attention to driving, that Jade felt she shouldn't have embarrassed him by telling him. Finally he said, ‘I think it must be true what they say—that love is a many-splendoured thing. It is nature's way of giving a reason to everything. Once, on a high and cloud-misted mountain, you lost the brother you loved, and a friend, but your love for Marlow Lewis taught you how to sing again ... how to fly.’

When she made no reply he turned to look at her, and her lashes went down. Very softly she said, 'Yes.'

A picture of Marlow Lewis as she remembered him came to mind ... older than she was by twenty years. That made him forty-one. There was a faintly chilling quality about him which went along with his reddish-blond hair and beard and his cool, almost tawny eyes. Marlow got on well with younger people and this was no doubt due to the fact that he appealed to a generation for which coolness is everything. He always projected a kind of recklessness. That hardness, she knew, was for real. He always enjoyed winning and when he lost he could be unpleasant.

‘Marlow always enjoyed winning,’ she said, without thinking.

‘I can imagine,’ Laurent Sevigny replied quietly. ‘After the hunt is always a social occasion and more often than not rounded off with a noisy champagne luncheon at one of the shooting lodges. He always attends. I know.'

‘He—er—seems to have a natural instinct for contemporary fashion,’ she went on. ‘Do you know, Marlow seems to have a kind of natural instinct—a knack —of making other people, of his own age, I mean, appear
old.’

‘I have worked this out,’ he said, ‘while we have been driving. He must be older than you by twenty years.’

‘Yes, he is.’

Often in the last few months Jade had asked herself whether she really loved Marlow Lewis and, in turn, whether he had ever got over Elisa, the girl who had lost her life because of a careless approach to flying on the part of Jeffrey.

In the distance, now, she could see the curling pencil line of the coral reef, whitely scalloping what appeared to be a magnificent palm-fringed beach.

‘We are nearly there,’ Laurent Sevigny said. ‘A custom is that you are shown to your room where you may ring through for an island cocktail of your own choice. On the other hand, however, you might well prefer to have it in the open-air lounge ... open to the sea-breezes.’

‘That sounds wonderful,’ she answered. ‘I look forward to that. What goes into the cocktail?’

He lifted one shoulder and turned to her and she was acutely aware of the way in which his eyes met, and held, her own. ‘Oh, a dash of this and a dash of that.' He smiled and then changed down as they approached a blind and dangerous bend in the road.

‘It sounds intriguing,’ she said. She spoke in the carefully modulated voice she always used when she felt unsure of herself.

A
delicious
breeze blew off the sea. The hotel, which was set in a colourful palm-strewn garden shared only by its own and a few private chalets, greeted her with its pink oleanders and pink hibiscus.

Laurent Sevigny parked the car in front of the foyer and turned to look at her. ‘Put it like this,’ his dark sea-green eyes went over her, ‘I have enjoyed meeting you, being with you.'

‘I must have been a nuisance to you,' Jade said, ‘on the plane.’ She was aware of the strong natural grace about him. It was a grace the average man did not possess—almost frightening, because of that strength she knew was there.

‘On the contrary.’ He glanced away. ‘The mini-bus, although it overtook us at one stage, has not yet arrived. Apparently we took different routes. I will take you to Nicole.’

‘Where is your chalet?’ lade asked.

‘Up that way,’ he told her. ‘You can’t see it from here.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, looking in the direction of the beach. Fishermen kept their boats under the palms and, in the distance, surf formed a ruffled white collar on the coral reef.

When she stepped out of the car she stood gazing for a moment at the hotel where she was to work. There was an air of luxury about it and a promise of what lay beyond.

Turning, she said, ‘Thanks for the ride.’ She smiled.

‘Don’t worry about your luggage,’ he said, 'I will arrange for it to be taken inside.’

It was obvious that the guest-rooms, lounges, dining-room, restaurants, pool terrace, cocktail and bikini bars faced the beach and coral reef. Jade felt Laurent’s warm fingers on her arm. ‘This way,’ he said.

They went into the air-conditioned reception foyer and a beautiful dark-skinned girl of uncertain ancestry said, ‘Hello, Mr Sevigny. Welcome back. May I help you?’ She glanced in Jade’s direction.

‘This is Miss Jade Lawford. She is to join the Comtesse de Speville in running the hydro.’

‘Oh, I see. I hope you will be happy in Mauritius,’ said the girl, before answering the telephone, which had started to ring.

‘I can see what you meant when you spoke of the lounge catching—or open—to the sea-breezes,’ Jade said a moment later, looking at Laurent Sevigny. With its black and white floor, luxurious honey-coloured leather sofas and exotic plants the lounge, to one side of a staircase, was exciting and inviting. More pink hibiscus grew next to the pool where there was a lot of white furniture with pink cushions and sun-umbrellas to match the blooms. These colours accentuated the palms and the sea.

Bronzed by the sun, Nicole de Speville was in her cool office, facing the coral reef. The black caftan she was wearing showed up her blonde hair which looked as if she swam a lot and did not wish to fuss over it. Her eyelashes were long and very black—and, quite obviously, false. She was so slim that her tanned skin seemed to be drawn tightly over those parts of her body which could be seen as she moved about in the long robe. Beneath the caftan her black bikini was visible.

‘Laurent!’ Like him, she spoke English with a strong French inflection. ‘I did not know you were back. You did not even let me know. Why?’

‘I decided to surprise everybody,’ he said, ‘and apparently I have surprised you.’ Jade watched as he kissed Nicole de Speville, surprised because of the jealousy which had sprung to life. Looking at them she was thinking that Laurent Sevigny and Comtesse Nicole de Speville must surely qualify as the ‘beautiful people’ she was always reading about.

'And this is?’ Nicole’s eyes went over Jade. ‘Not— not a bride you have brought back, surely?' Shock showed in her blue eyes.

‘I’m Jade Lawford,' Jade cut in quickly. ‘You're expecting me.'

‘But,’ the blue eyes with their artificial lashes widened, ‘I do not understand. You were supposed to be met by Judy of American Express.’

‘Since we travelled together on the plane,’ Laurent explained, ‘I brought jade here myself. The mini-bus has not yet arrived.’

‘So? You are Jade Lawford. Marlow said that you were quite, quite beautiful, and he was right. Marlow, of course, will be gone for another whole week.’ Turning to Laurent she said, ‘He is fortunate, Marlow, is he not—to be marrying this child? For, like me, Marlow is in his forties.’

Jade was frankly dazzled by the Comtesse’s vitality. It was difficult to believe that this beautiful woman was in her forties. She did not look that old. That old? A small shiver ran down her spine. She was going to marry a man
that old
... in his forties, she thought confusedly. In the next moment she comforted herself by thinking that forty-this and forty-that was not so old, especially when the persons concerned looked like Nicole and Marlow ... as she remembered him.

‘And so you are not yet settled in, obviously?’ Nicole kept on looking at Jade, her eyes going over the dusky-pink Italian cashmere suit and bronze-coloured handbag.

‘We came straight to your office,’ Laurent explained.

‘Well, in that case settle in,’ Nicole went on. ‘In about—oh, let’s see, an hour ...’ she shrugged her shoulders, ‘an hour and a half, I’ll take you along to the clinic and introduce you around.'

‘Where shall I meet you?' Jade asked. ‘Here?'

‘Yes, make it here. Tomorrow we can begin to show you what it is we are doing here. And you, Laurent?’ Nicole turned to look at him. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘I will see Miss Lawford to reception, arrange for her luggage to be brought in and be on my way.’

It should have all been so exciting, Jade thought, but something kept hammering at her mind. She found herself wondering whether she was going to be able to go through with marrying Marlow after all. Laurent Sevigny had made certain of that. And yet—she stole a glance at him, as they made their way back to reception—was he as attracted to her as she was to him? At that moment their eyes met and there was a marked intensity in the expression of those strange green eyes. ‘Nicole is very beautiful, don’t you think?’ he said.