Call Of The Veld Part 13

'I don't believe you,' he said hoa.r.s.ely at last. 'It isn't true I You love me, we both know it. You haven't to think of Irma now, because she's got her future all nicely settled I And as for your marriage-we can easily get over that problem-------'

'Ray,' broke in Sara gently, 'please don't say any more. I love my husband, very dearly. What I felt for you was trivial in comparison, believe me.' Much as she despised him she had to pity him too. He was shattered, his features pale and twisted; it was clear that he had believed that he had only to call and she would come. 'I do love Carl,' she added quickly. 'I can see you don't believe me '

'No, I don't believe you! It's me you love, but you're troubled now because you're married! If this had happened before your marriage you wouldn't have hesitated! But what does it matter? We can forget the marriage-live together, or you can get a divorce!' He was incoherent, mad with disappointment. 'I said you hadn't married Carl for love and I meant it! Irma saw it too!'

Sara gave an exasperated sigh. She had no wish to prolong such a fruitless conversation. Ray was acting like a lunatic, and as she looked up into his twisted face she wondered why she had never realised just how weak and despicable a specimen of manhood he was.

'I must go,' she said, moving away a little.

'No! You shan't go until we've come to some agreement. You're being stubborn, Sara. As I've said, you didn't marry Carl for love. I'll never believe you love him!'

Sara's patience was fast becoming exhausted. Ray, it seemed, was determined not to be convinced.

'I really don't care whether you believe me or not,' she told him curtly. 'You yourself agreed that what Irma said about my marriage as a cover-up sickened you as much as it sickened me, and yet-unless I'm very mistaken-you'd have entered into an affair with me ' Sara got no further. Taken completely by surprise, she did not even struggle when Ray, catching her slender body in his arms, kissed her pa.s.sionately on the mouth. She was just gathering her scattered wits together and would have sent him staggering backwards, when suddenly she felt a vicious tug at her hair and cried out in sheer agony as she was literally dragged from the copse and jerked, savagely, against her husband's hard sinewed frame.

'Oh-Carl,' she gasped, 'don't----- !'

'You little s.l.u.t!' he snarled, towering above her, his eyes blazing with fury. 'Get into the car! Get into it, I say!'

'Carl,' protested Ray, 'leave her alone!'

'I'll deal with you later----- '

'If you'll listen a minute----- ' began Sara, then stopped, for Carl had her by the shoulders, propelling her unceremoniously towards the car which was standing in front of the homestead. The door was flung open and Sara bundled inside. Then the door was slammed so violently that the whole body of the car shuddered. Sara righted herself, sitting down in the back of the car where her husband had flung her. She put a shaking hand to her heart, because it was thudding so violently that she was actually frightened. Never had she seen fury such as this, never would she have believed that the man whose demeanour had always been one of cool unruffled self-possession could have acted with such violence, revealing a temper more primitive than the land in which he lived.

She lifted a hand to her cheek, wondering if she were as white as she felt. Her whole body was trembling and the pain in the back of her head had increased to excruciating proportions. Her shoulders, where he had ruthlessly dug in his fingers while thrusting her towards the car, were hot and sore. Her eyes filled up and within seconds the tears were running down her face and on to the spotless white blouse she wore. She was actually sobbing uncontrollably when her husband returned, his dark face harsh as thunder, his amber eyes reminding her of a tiger's-fierce and threatening.

'He's nursing a few bruises!' he snarled, thumbing the starter even before he had closed the car door. 'And you'll be doing the same ten minutes from now!'

'Carl,' she stammered, y-you c-can't believe that-that I--- ' The words failed, stopped by the ball of fear that had settled in her throat.

'I knew you were in love with him when I married you, but never did I imagine you'd lower yourself to carrying on a clandestine love affair with your own brother-in-law!' His fury was terrible to see; the car shot forward, slithered on a muddy patch of ground, gained speed again and was raced along the drive on to the lane. Sara at the back was jerked about until she felt physically sick-in addition to the sickness of fear that engulfed her like a deluge. 'Your own sister's husband -------!'

'Carl,' broke in Sara, drying her tears, 'you can't think such awful things of me-you can't !'

'I can believe the evidence of my own eyes!'

She sagged against the upholstery. If he loved her how easy her explanation would be! She was horrified to think he would so easily condemn her, that he could believe her capable of such infamous conduct. The more she thought about it the more her fear gave way to anger. How dared he condemn her without a hearing! And as for that threat about inflicting bruises on her-well, just let him lay a finger on her!

'Out!' The car had crunched to a dizzy stop; the imperious flick of a hand accompanied the one harshly- spoken word. Unsteadily Sara managed to get out of the car. Her husband stood over her, his face full of the towering rage which consumed him. His lips were compressed, thin and cruel. In spite of her own anger Sara was actually shivering with fear. What was he going to do to her? She felt so helpless, utterly in his power. 'Into the house I' he commanded with another flick of his hand. 'Into your room-I don't want the servants to hear what I've got to say!'

Sara obeyed, wishing she could make a run for it, but admitting that such action would not get her very far.

In a moment she was standing in the middle of her bedroom, wondering if she would ever live through a more terrifying moment in her life. She tried to see the Carl that she knew-the handsome-featured, arresting mail with whom she had fallen in love, but all she saw was a monster-a being she did not know. She stared at him as he stood there, with his back to the closed door, his face almost contorted with anger.

A little sob escaped her involuntarily; for some reason it acted like a spur to unleash her husband's smouldering fury and before she could take even one step backwards she was being shaken unmercifully, shaken until her teeth chattered together and her pleading cries were lost in his furious invective. Tears ran down her cheeks and by the time she was released her body, bruised and shaking, was racked by sobs. She staggered to the bed and sat down, burying her face in her hands and weeping as though her heart would break.

For so long she had carried other people's burdens, had tackled one problem after another... and now that she herself was in trouble there was no one to come to her aid. The silence was strange; she glanced up, to see her husband staring down at her, his face pale, his mouth moving in a strange spasmodic kind of way. His fists were clenched at his sides, his long lean frame stiff, unmoving. Sara's temper flared. She threw him a vicious glance and told him to get out of her room.

'I hate you,' she quivered, uncaring that she lied, or that her expression could be mistaken for one of utter loathing. 'Get out of my room, I say!'

'Your room...?' softly and yet carrying the low guttural sound of a jungle cat ready to leap upon its prey. 'Your room, did you say?'

Terror seized her, an altogether new kind of terror. It caused every vestige of colour to drain from her face. It must not be like this! Everything else had been done in cold blood-but not like this! She would not have him take her in anger!

'Carl,' she whispered through the convulsive tightness in her throat, 'you haven't listened to me.' No anger now, just pleading, gentle and feminine and persuasive. 'You've condemned me, Carl, without a hearing.' She rose unsteadily, wincing at the cruel pain in her head. She extended a hand in an almost supplicating gesture, so strong was her desire to prevent him from committing an act which she knew instinctively would bring him bitterness and regret. 'There could be an explanation, but you haven't asked me for it, have you?' She closed her eyes for a second, to shut out that harsh implacable countenance. 'I haven't been unfaithful to you---'

'Are you trying to tell me my eyes deceived me!' he snarled, taking a step towards her. 'He was kissing you, and you were reciprocating----- '

'I was not!'

'Were you intending to make love out there, in a field!'

For a moment it seemed that all her good intentions would be swept away by the sheer fury which his words had created within her. But she was fighting for their future, so she crushed her anger and pleaded with him once again.

'I want to tell you everything, Carl----- '

'I'm not in the mood for lies!'

She looked straightly at him.

'I don't waste my time telling lies, Carl,' she returned with quiet dignity.

He stared into her unflinching gaze and within seconds Sara was letting out a long breath of relief. She had won. Her frank and honest manner had caught his attention and he was prepared to hear what she had to say. But, absurdly, the relief she felt at her narrow escape had brought on a drained, fatigued sensation and before she could stop herself she had burst once more into tears.

'Sara!' It was a cry from the heart, wrenched from Carl as with a couple of long strides he brought himself close to her and, taking her in his arms, he held her quietly, aware of her wonderment at his action, aware that her tears were ceasing miraculously, and when at length she looked up at him questioningly all harshness had left his face and she gave a little gasp of disbelief at what she saw in his eyes.

She clung to him, content to be close, forgetting for one exquisite moment that he was waiting for her explanation. He loved her-loved her! She had seen it for herself, in those eyes that, only a moment ago, had shot such terror into her.

She whispered shyly, into the cool white linen of his shirt against which her tear-stained face was pressed, 'Carl... I love you.'

Silence, profound and unfathomable. To Sara, it seemed that her husband's heart was beating a little faster than before, that a great sigh of thankfulness rose up from somewhere deep within him.

'My Sara...' His murmured words, tender and contrite, vibrated gently against her hair. 'My dear love, what did I say to you?'

'It doesn't matter.' She still clung to him, desiring nothing more than to remain there, quiet... safe. 'I know now it was jealousy-and-and I'm glad that you can be jealous.'

'I had no right to condemn you, my darling. I should have known you better than that.'

It was all she needed, for him to express trust even though he had not yet heard one single word of her excuses. She hesitated no longer, but related everything to him, standing close still, with his gentle hands unconsciously covering the bruises he had so recently made on her shoulders. She left nothing out, and as she talked he quite naturally made one or two incredulous exclamations, and once or twice he inserted a question. Sara, watching his expression as it underwent a series of changes, saw it become one of glowering fury at Ray's action in forcing his attentions on her, especially after she had told him she was in love with her husband.

'Darling,' murmured Carl when at last she had finished her narrative, 'can you ever forgive me for saying such hurtful things to you?'

'It's all over, and in any case, as I said, I know that your anger stemmed from jealousy.'

'Dearest, when did you discover that you loved me?'

She shook her head vaguely.

'I knew for sure the night we were in the garden, but I have a feeling that I loved you long before then.'

'That night,' curiously as his eyes looked deeply into hers. 'Do you know, Sara, that I almost------- ' He stopped as he saw her rising colour, then said in tones of tender amus.e.m.e.nt, 'You look adorable when you blush, my love.' He caught her to him and for a long moment she knew the thrill of his kiss, the strength of his body against hers. And when he released her she was no longer shy and blushing, for she was able to say, a loving smile fluttering on her lips, 'I wanted you that night, Carl, so if you'd asked me, then I would-would------ ' But it was too much and she shyly left her husband to say the rest, which he did, a hint of tender humour in his voice.

'--- have come to me willingly?'

'Yes, indeed!' She snuggled her head into his shoulder and for a while neither spoke. It was Carl who eventually broke the silence, speaking about Irma and Bernard and saying he hoped everything would turn out all right for them.

'As you know,' he went on, 'I was very troubled about her. You see, my love, I didn't want your life to be blighted by her committing suicide.' He looked down into his wife's lovely face. 'I know now that I must have been falling in love with you at that time, otherwise why should I have wanted to safeguard you?'

'I believed it was Irma-oh, not that you'd fallen in love with her,' she went on to add swiftly, 'but your concern.'

Carl made no comment on this, and what he said next concerned Ray.

'In my opinion he ought to leave here. He hasn't made many friends and when Irma goes he'll have no one.' Meaning of course that Carl would never visit the farm again, nor would he let Sara visit it-not that she would want to, though, once Irma had left.

'It's as well that Irma is leaving,' Carl added as if reading his wife's thoughts, 'because now that our marriage is normal your place is here, running your own home, not working all hours in someone else's. I wouldn't have allowed you to continue as you have been doing. You could have gone over as a visitor, but certainly not as a servant.' The stern inflection in his voice left Sara in no doubt at all that she would have been forced to obey him. Yes, she thought, it was a happy circ.u.mstance all round that her sister was leaving Njangola, to find a new life elsewhere.

After a little while she asked, 'Was your reason for sending me to your mother that you wanted to bring Ray and Irma together?'

He nodded.

'That was the main idea-and yet, looking back now, I feel convinced that some of my anxiety was for you, Sara. You see, I had by that time begun to see things which had escaped me before. As I said to you once, I was beginning to realise that you were more to be admired than despised. Yes,' he added reflectively, 'I feel that, perhaps subconsciously, I wanted you to have a rest.'

Sara would have continued with her questioning, for there were still one or two things to be cleared up, but Carl, deciding there were far more delightful ways of spending the half hour or so that was still to go before lunch, took her by the hand and together they stepped through the open window on to the verandah, where they stood for a while, looking out over the delightful gardens of their home. Sara drew a deep, contented breath and said, not really meaning to speak her thoughts aloud, 'Peace at last... the peace of mind I've craved ever since I came here.' And then, turning to her husband, 'Will Irma be happy, do you think?'

'As happy as it's possible to be under the circ.u.mstances. I, like you, feel that she'll walk again one day.'

'Do you, Carl? Oh, but I sincerely hope so!'

'You haven't mentioned the chair?'

'No-and I was thinking about it. Will it arrive before they go?'

'I'll try and hurry it up,' promised Carl.

'It'll save Bernard buying one for her. They'll need all their money for the farm they're buying.' Sara paused, frowning a little. 'I do hope they can find what they want...' Her words checked slowly as she noticed the expression on her husband's face. His voice matched it to perfection as he said, 'Sara, you've just mentioned peace of mind, remember? I won't have you troubling your head any more about Irma, understand?'

She swallowed, and nodded meekly.

'Yes, Carl,' she answered in a low tone, 'I understand.'

All sternness left his face then, replaced by an expression that brought a glow of sheer happiness to her lovely eyes. She stared up at him, her lips quivering slightly, and parted in the sort of invitation that her husband could not be expected to ignore. She found herself caught in a vortex of ardour as, crushing her slender young body to him, he kissed her pa.s.sionately on the mouth, the throat, and lower down where the tender curves of her breast were cupped in his hand. There was a possessiveness in his lovemaking that thrilled her, a mastery that made her feel weak and submissive, with a yearning to be conquered. And yet, conversely, she knew a feeling of importance, because a man like Carl had chosen her for his life's partner, chosen her from all others, to be his alone.

'My dearly beloved wife...' Carl's voice was vibrant and husky with ardour held in cheek. 'Why should I be so lucky as to find a treasure like you?'

She gave a shaky little laugh, with which she contrived to disguise her own heightened emotions.

'I was just thinking how lucky I was! I shall never know how you came to choose me-- ' The rest was lost for ever beneath the pressure of her husband's lips on hers. And in fact she was not allowed an opportunity of speaking for some considerable time, and when at last her husband did draw his mouth from hers for a moment or two she found she had no desire at all to speak, and she merely stirred contentedly in his arms, ecstasy flooding through her veins, unspeakable joy filling her heart.