Love Is Dangerous Page 10

Then Melina felt a pull on her arm and Bing was leading her away across the lawns in the direction of a long balustrade covered with roses.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Walk casually,” he answered. “We’re looking at the flowers and the fountain.”

  She stopped at the touch of his hand and stared at the fountain that stood between them and the roses.

  After a few seconds they moved on again and she realised that they were looking over a balustrade into another and lower part of the garden into which, from another flight of steps, guests were descending having obviously passed through the house, been greeted by their host and then returned to the garden again.

  This lower garden, Melina thought, had not been visible from the hillside that she and Bing had inspected through the glasses. It was obviously here that the party was to be held.

  There was a dance floor built in the centre of it beneath great arches of flowers and lights. There were fountains lit with every colour in the rainbow and floodlights revealed flowers so exotic and so beautiful, that some of them could have been arranged or planted only for that particular evening.

  At the far end of the garden there was a long buffet laden with food, and already turbaned waiters were passing amongst the guests with trays containing tumblers of whisky and glasses of champagne.

  “I think,” Bing said, “there is no need for us to be welcomed by our host. We’ll skip the preliminaries and join those below us.”

  “How did you guess that we could do this?” Melina asked him.

  “I thought when we looked this morning that there were very few preparations for a dance in this part of the garden,” he answered. “Therefore, there must be another one somewhere. Q. E. D.”

  “I suppose I was expecting that they would dance in the house,”

  “Much too hot,” Bing replied. “But somehow we have to get into the house later.”

  There was no need for him to say more. Melina remembered, with a little dropping of her heart, the real reason why they were here.

  The child! Where would they have hidden him?

  And she felt guilty and ashamed because she had thought of herself early in the evening rather than of what was happening to the little boy.

  She longed to ask Bing how they could get into the house or, rather, how they could get upstairs. It would be easy enough to wander into the reception rooms, but she was quite certain that Moulay Ibrahim would have an effective guard in the part of the villa he did not wish his guests to penetrate.

  She realised, however, that it would be not only silly but also dangerous to question Bing at the moment and so she walked silently by his side as they moved forward until they found a flight of marble steps leading into the garden below.

  The chatter and noise of voices was rising every moment as more and more guests poured from the house onto the lawns. The orchestra was playing a sentimental foxtrot and quite a number of couples were dancing to it.

  They were nearly all Europeans, Melina noticed, and felt a sudden pang of envy that some of the women’s dresses were glittering with embroidery so that they seemed to reflect the lights and shimmer almost like the water falling from the fountains.

  “I feel rather a plain Jane – ” she began to say to Bing and then suddenly she caught sight of a woman who had just come into the garden and who was wearing a dress of white net embroidered all over with tiny sparkling diamanté.

  It was a dress that Melina had seen before.

  As she recognised it, she gave a little gasp and clutched at Bing’s arm.

  He stopped dead at the insistence of her fingers and looked towards her inquiringly.

  “It’s awful!” Melina told him in a quick frightened whisper. “Mrs. Schuster is here! She’s standing over there. What are we to do?”

  “Nothing,” Bing said quickly. “Just act naturally. We cannot leave and it will be impossible, even in this crowd, to avoid someone for the entire evening. You have to face her and we had much better do it at once in case she sees you later when it might prove awkward.”

  He put his hand over hers as if to calm her and went on,

  “Walk up to her and explain that the reason you left Tangier without saying goodbye was because your husband turned up unexpectedly.”

  “I would not have said goodbye to her anyway,” Melina replied bitterly, remembering Mrs. Schuster’s unjustified accusation that she was both inefficient and impertinent.

  “Never mind! Never mind!” Bing urged her impatiently. “Whether you have had a row with her or not, it doesn’t matter now. What does matter is the fact that you have to establish yourself as my wife. To have her rushing round telling everyone that you are really Miss Lindsay might cause complications. Where is she? Just walk across to her naturally.”

  With an effort Melina pulled herself together.

  What did it matter what Mrs. Schuster thought, she asked herself. There was more at stake than that spoilt rich woman had ever dreamed in her selfish empty head.

  Melina smiled at Bing and lifted her little chin.

  “Very well,” she said. “I’ll try not to let you down, but I cannot say that I am going to enjoy it.”

  Quite a number of people had come between them and Mrs. Schuster since Melina had first seen her. Now, with Bing pulling her, she pushed her way through to where she had last seen that glittering lovely gown, which she had thought, when she last saw it hanging in Mrs. Schuster’s wardrobe, was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen in her life.

  Mrs. Schuster had her back towards them as they approached. Melina could see that she was wearing her diamond necklace and the big diamond earrings which were shaped like bunches of flowers.

  She was talking to Ambrose Wheatley, but after one glance towards him Melina did not look at him again.

  She reached Mrs. Schuster’s side and said in tones that were almost aggressive because she was so nervous,

  “Hello, Mrs. Schuster! What a surprise seeing you here.”

  Lileth Schuster turned round sharply.

  “Miss Lindsay!” she exclaimed. And then as if to make certain that her former secretary was really there she repeated, “Melina Lindsay! You’re the last person I expected to see. What are you doing here?”

  “We’ve just arrived,” Melina replied and added quickly, “I wanted to apologise for hurrying away from Tangier without saying goodbye. As a matter of fact my husband arrived unexpectedly. I am afraid I did not tell you about him, but we – we had quarrelled and now we have made it up again.”

  It all sounded rather breathless and incoherent and Mrs. Schuster raised her eyes from Melina’s flushed face and turned towards Bing.

  “Your husband!” she exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Melina answered. “May I introduce – ?”

  She was unable, however, to complete the sentence.

  She found herself staring with fascinated eyes at the transformation that suddenly seemed to take place in Mrs. Schuster’s face. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropped open and then, with a little cry, she put out both her hands and said breathlessly,

  “Bing! It is Bing, isn’t it? For a moment I wasn’t certain. Oh, Bing! Where have you been? And what have you done to your face?”

  Bing’s face was impassive but then, as Melina thought afterwards, there had been a second or so for him to recognise Mrs. Schuster before she looked towards him. And yet Melina thought he somehow looked white under his tan as he replied,

  “Hello, Lileth! This is, indeed, a surprise.”

  “Bing, where have you been?” Mrs. Schuster asked softly in a manner that made Melina feel as if she had been eavesdropping. “When I was in London I tried to find you everywhere, but nobody knew where you would gone.”

  “I expect I was in the States,” Bing answered.

  “In the States!” Mrs. Schuster said as if it was Timbuktu.

  “I’ve had a lot to do out there, as a matter of fact,” Bing replied. “It’s a long story, but I’ve had to
change my name and so if you were asking for me by my old one it was not surprising you could not find me.”

  “Changed your name!” Lileth Schuster repeated almost stupidly.

  “Yes,” Bing answered. My Godfather died. He left me some rather useful oil wells on condition that I took his name. It’s Cutter now, by the way. You must try and remember it, Lileth. It is spelt in the usual way.”

  “Oil wells!” Lileth Schuster echoed in almost strangled tones.

  Bing was acting the part so well, Melina thought, that she, herself, almost believed in the oil wells and a Godfather called Cutter.

  “You have to tell me about it! I must to know what it’s all about,” Mrs. Schuster said and her voice was somehow desperate.

  She looked around almost as if she expected an oasis where they could be alone to appear before them. Then, seeing the crowds growing larger every moment, she said quickly,

  “Let’s dance, Bing. Ambrose will look after – ” she paused before she added, “ – Melina,” and Melina had the feeling that she could not bear to say the words, ‘your wife’.

  “Very well, we’ll dance,” Bing agreed. “You will be all right, won’t you, Melina? We’ll meet by the fountain over there after this dance.”

  “Melina will be quite all right with me,” Ambrose Wheatley intervened, speaking for the first time.

  Mrs. Schuster drew Bing away and Ambrose took Melina’s hand and guided her onto the dance floor. She moved automatically, too bemused by what had just happened to know what to think.

  “Well, really,” Ambrose was saying in an almost peevish voice, “you might have told me you were married. It was rather unkind to let me make a fool of myself over you.”

  “Did you do that?” Melina asked.

  She was watching, over his shoulder, Bing dancing with Lileth Schuster. He danced surprisingly well, she thought. She had not imagined that he would. And Mrs. Schuster was gazing up into his eyes, her lovely head thrown back, her red lips parted.

  Melina forced herself to listen to what Ambrose Wheatley was saying.

  “As a matter of fact,” he went on, “I was going to find you and apologise for having upset you with my suggestions. I didn’t think, somehow, you would take it like that. It’s only that I am under such an obligation to Lileth. As you know, she’s financing my Art Gallery so I don’t want to offend her at this particular moment and she is very, very possessive.”

  “There was no need for you to apologise,” Melina told him.

  “There was,” he insisted. “I realised that I said the wrong thing. Instead I was going to ask you to marry me.”

  Melina dropped her eyes. How easy to say that now, she thought, when he had learnt that she was married and that her husband was with her. She was quite certain that Ambrose Wheatley was far too ambitious and self-seeking to tie himself up to a poverty-stricken, unimportant girl however much in love he might be.

  “I love you, Melina!” he carried on. “I love you and I can think of nothing else. In fact I could not sleep last night for thinking of you.”

  “You must not have any sleepless nights about me,” Melina smiled. “I don’t think my husband would like it.”

  “Fancy Bing Ward turning up like this – and being your husband,” Ambrose said. “I have heard so much about him from Lileth, I feel almost as if I know him. She always described him as being very fair though and he doesn’t look very fair to me.”

  “I think people’s hair darkens as they grow older,” Melina explained rather lamely.

  “Well, Lileth will not be pleased he is married to somebody else,” Ambrose said reflectively.

  “Why? Does she look upon him as her particular property?” Melina asked.

  “I should say so,” Ambrose answered. “They were engaged to be married at one time.”

  Melina suddenly felt that she could bear to hear no more.

  This was Bing’s story. If he wanted to tell her, he would do so. Perhaps this was the reason why he had shouted at her that afternoon, why he had thumped his hand down on the steering wheel. She did not want to pry behind his back.

  “It’s too hot to dance anymore,” she said. “Let’s go and stand by the fountain.”

  Ambrose negotiated his way with difficulty towards the end of the dance floor, but the music then stopped and the dancers poured onto the lawns and towards the buffet, which Melina could now see was heaped with food of every description.

  They reached the fountain and there was no sign of Bing or of Mrs. Schuster and by now the dance floor was empty.

  “I expect they have a lot to say to each other,” Ambrose said, seeing her looking round anxiously. “Come for a walk with me, Melina. I want to talk to you. You are looking very lovely tonight. I don’t think you listened just now when I told you that I loved you.”

  Melina realised suddenly that she hated him.

  “I wonder if you would fetch me a glass of champagne?” she asked. “I haven’t had one yet.”

  “That will be easy,” Ambrose answered. “Stay here and I will find a waiter.”

  He turned away and he had not gone more than a few paces before Melina slipped away into the crowds. She hurried across the lawns until she found herself in the shadows of some trees and bushes that were covered with coloured fairy lights that looked like glittering jewels.

  Here the crowds were not so dense and after a moment Melina managed to find a quiet seat in the shade where nobody could see that she was alone.

  There she sat for a moment trying to compose her thoughts and to realise the quite fantastic coincidence by which Bing was connected with Lileth Schuster.

  ‘How could he have liked anyone like that?’ she thought – hard, brittle and mean to everyone she came into contact with. But in fairness she had to admit that Mrs. Schuster was very lovely with her great dark eyes, her pointed chin, which completed the perfect oval of her face, her beautifully symmetrical figure and the small slim feet that seemed characteristic of every American.

  ‘Was that Bing’s taste?’ Melina wondered and was somehow disappointed, although why she did not know.

  “Let us sit here, darling!”

  It was Mrs. Schuster’s voice directly behind her and Melina started.

  “We have to go back. I need to find Melina.”

  That was Bing speaking and Melina realised now that there was only a hedge of roses and honeysuckle between them.

  “Bing darling, darling Bing, why did you leave me? Why did you just disappear like that without telling me where you were going?”

  “You told me you were going to marry a man called Fulton, remember?” Bing answered.

  “I had to,” Lileth Schuster replied. “But I never loved him, you knew that. I loved you.”

  “You wanted his money and you got it, was not that enough?” Bing asked in a hard aggressive voice.

  “Don’t speak to me like that,” Lileth begged. “You don’t know what I went through. Oh, I was rich, rich enough to make any woman happy, I thought. I was wrong. It was agony, worse than that, it was torture being married to a senile old man. I thought money could make up for love, but I was wrong, Bing. I knew when it was too late that I only wanted you, however poor we might be.”

  There was a silence and Melina wondered what Bing’s face looked like. Had he squared his jaw, she wondered. And were his eyes angry or dark with suffering?

  “When he died,” Lileth went on suddenly, “I tried to find you. I asked everyone we had both known in New York, but nobody had seen you. I was so unhappy I let myself be talked into marrying Carl Schuster. He was an incredible drunk. Our marriage lasted two months then I got a divorce. I came to England. I couldn’t find anyone who knew where you were. I wrote to you, not one letter but dozens, Bing, but they were all returned.”

  “I told you that you could not have both money and me,” Bing remarked.

  “But now – now when you are rich, I-I could have had – both,” Lileth muttered in a strangled voice.

&
nbsp; “It’s too late,” Bing replied. “You forget I am married.”

  “To Melina! That milk-faced, stupid little thing. Do you think she will be able to hold you?” Lileth asked scornfully. “You’ll be tired of her in a few weeks. She has worked for me and I can tell you – ”

  Melina rose suddenly to her feet. She could not sit here, she felt, and let this woman run her down. She could not bear to have all her faults relayed to the man she was now working for, the man she was supposed to be married to.

  Without considering, without thinking of what she was doing, she cried aloud,

  “Bing! Bing! Are you there?”

  And, even as she spoke his name, she realised that more than she had ever wanted anything in her life before, she wanted him to come to her.

  Chapter 7

  Having called Bing’s name, Melina held her breath. Would he come or would he ignore her?

  It seemed almost an eternity before he replied,

  “Hello, Melina! Where are you?”

  “I am here, behind this hedge of roses,” she answered.

  “Stay where you are,” he replied, “and I’ll come round.”

  She despised herself for eavesdropping, but she could not help drawing nearer the dividing hedge to hear Lileth Schuster say in a low but urgent whisper,

  “You can’t, Bing. I want to talk to you! I have to talk to you! There’s so much we have to discuss.”

  “Some other time.”

  Bing’s voice seemed to Melina to be indifferent as if his thoughts were concentrated somewhere else.

  “No, no, now, tonight,” Lileth insisted. “I haven’t seen you for so long. There’s so much we have to tell each other. Besides, there’s the future to plan.”

  “Lileth, don’t kid yourself,” Melina heard Bing say almost sternly. “And now I must go.”

  “No, Bing! No!”

  It was the cry of a spoilt and thwarted woman, but obviously Bing ignored it because there was silence and Melina, knowing Mrs. Schuster, could imagine her sitting there and tapping her long lacquered nails angrily against the stone seat. It was a habit she had when she was annoyed and, even through the roses and the honeysuckle, Melina could sense the rising tempest of her frustration at Bing’s departure.