The Judgement Of Love Part 13

Only when his lips released her did she manage to say: "I ... I must ... go ... p .. please ... do not ... stop me."

"I would never do anything you did not wish," he replied, "but I want you, Aphrodite, G.o.d how much I want you!"

He would have taken her in his arms again but she put up her hands to stop him, feeling that he swept her along like a tidal wave and she would find it impossible not to do anything he asked of her.

"P .. please.... " she pleaded.

The word came instinctively to her lips. She had not even thought that she must say it.

"Very well," he agreed. "I will let you go if you must, but you will be back tomorrow? Promise me, or I shall have to take you with me to London."

"I ... I ... promise," Astara managed to reply.

She had moved a little way from when he said: "Come here!"

She turned her head irresolutely, afraid of his power over her, and yet longing to obey him.

"I .. I ... must ... go!"

"I told you to come here!"

She looked into his eyes and was lost.

Without meaning to, she was back in his arms and he was kissing her again, kissing her as if he was determined to take possession of her, to demand from her not only her body but her soul.

Only when she had ceased to think and there was only a wild rapture that made her want him to go on kissing her for ever did he let her go.

"Fast things first!" he said, and his voice was unsteady. "I shall be counting the seconds, my little G.o.ddess, until to-morrow evening."

Because she knew she dare not stay any longer Astara turned and ran from the room.

Only as she reached the outside door did she lean against it for a moment to catch her breath and force herself to realise that she was back on earth a human being with very human problems.

Astara started to come down the Grand Staircase the next morning and as she did so she saw that Sir Roderick was below in the Hall talking to Mr Barnes.

"Very well," she heard him say, "I will see those men to-morrow morning at nine o'clock. It will mean I shall have to ride later, but I suppose it is urgent?"

"They are very anxious, Sir Roderick, for you to pa.s.s the plans so that they can put the work in hand," Mr Barnes replied.

"Very well," Sir Roderick said. "Nine o'clock, and tell them not to be late."

He moved away towards the Dining-Room and Mr Barnes picking up his hat walked towards the front door.

He had just reached the steps outside when Astara had an idea.

"Mr Barnes!" she called and started to run down the stairs.

The Agent stopped and looked back at her. Then when he would have re-entered the house she joined him and walked outside ahead of him, into the sunshine.

When they were out of hearing of the footmen in attendance in the Hall, Astara said: "I wonder, Mr Barnes, if you would do something for me?"

"Of course, Miss Beverley," he replied. "Anything that is within my capabilities."

He smiled as he spoke and Astara knew that he admired her, for there was no mistaking the expression in his eyes.

"It is something which concerns Sir Roderick ..." she began.

She hesitated, then went on: "I know, although he will not say so, that he is very upset that his nephew, Mr Vulcan, who lives in Little Milden has not been to see him."

"I thought it rather strange myself," Mr Barnes said, "but then I believe Mr Vulcan is a law unto himself."

"I have heard that, too," Astara replied, "and Captain Lionel tells me that it is well known he seldom answers letters if he bothers to open them!"

"Do you mean Sir Roderick wrote to him?" Mr Barnes asked.

"Yes, he wrote, " Astara answered. "But Mr Vulcan has not replied nor come to see his uncle. I can only surmise that he has in fact not read the letter."

"Then what would you like me to do, Miss Beverley?" Mr Barnes enquired.

"I wonder," Astara said choosing her words carefully, "if without mentioning it to Sir Roderick you could go to see Mr Vulcan and tell him that his uncle is ... hurt by his behaviour and his ... negligence."

She thought Mr Barnes looked uncomfortable as if he thought it was 'a difficult a.s.signment and went on quickly: "I feel sure once he understands that Sir Roderick is getting old and is anxious to see him, he will call at Worfield House."

"I am sure he would," Mr Barnes agreed.

Astara thought that his tone did not sound over-confident but she smiled and said: "Do try to persuade him to come to dinner to-night."

"I will do my best, Miss Beverley," Mr Barnes promised.

"That would be very kind of you," Astara said, "and please, do not mention me to Mr Vulcan or tell Sir Roderick that I said anything to you about his nephew. I would not like it to ... look as if I was ... interfering."

"No, of course not. I understand," Mr Barnes replied. Astara gave him a dazzling smile and went back into the house.

When breakfast was over and Sir Roderick informed them all that he would be ready to ride in a quarter-of-an-hour she slipped round to the stables.

Sam, the head-groom, who admired the way she rode, was always ready to do anything she asked of him.

Astara handed him a piece of paper which she had sealed with a wafer.

"I should be very grateful, Sam, if you would send the same groom who visited Mr Vulcan Worfield's house in Little Milden last week, with this note. Tell him to put it through the door as he did before."

Sam took the piece of paper from her, Iooked at it in surprise, but being a well-trained servant said nothing.

"And please do not mention it to Sir Roderick," Astara said, "because if you do it will spoil a surprise.''

"OM say nothin' if ye asks Oi not to, Miss," Sam replied.

"Thank you, Sam," Astara said, "and send the groom soon."

"Oi'll do that, Miss, soon as ye've gone a-riding."

Astara went back to the house hoping that her plans would not go awry.

She had lain awake all night wondering what she should do about Vulcan, and she knew that he must now learn who she was, and most important, what Sir Roderick required.

She knew that she loved him overwhelmingly and that the emotions he had aroused in her and the ecstasy that she had felt when he kissed her were something vouchsafed to few people.

It had been so perfect that there were no words to describe it.

At the same time, even if he had felt the same ecstasy as he had given her, that was not to say he would wish to marry her!

He had made it very plain what he thought about marriage.

She was certain he was speaking the truth when he said he did not wish to be restricted or constrained.

Where then was there a place for her in his life?

She was afraid of the answer to that question and she could only hide her face in her pillow and say over and over again: "I love you! I love you!"

When dawn came, having slept very little, Astara rose from her bed to pull back the curtains and look out at the beauty of the mist rising from the lake and the sunshine on the trees in the park.

Would any ordinary man, she asked herself, be willing to j, leave such loveliness for some far-off horizon?

But Vulcan was not ordinary and perhaps Sir Roderick was right in thinking he had a wanderl.u.s.t which would never be a.s.suaged.

She remembered how her father had found it impossible to settle down for long. But his life in a small house in the small village was very different from that of the owner of Worfield House and its vast Estates.

Here there would always be something to occupy Vulcan and stimulate his mind. But would it be enough?

Astara felt almost as if the question was asked out loud and she turned from the window to look to where on her dressing-table there stood a picture of her mother.

It was only a miniature painted by some unimportant artist when they were on their travels, but it had caught not only the sweetness of Charlotte Beverley's expression but the light of adventure in her eyes and the smile of happiness on her lips.

"Help me, Mama! Help Vulcan to realise that he would be happy with me as Papa was with you."

Even as she spoke Astara thought it was a vain prayer which would go unheard.

Vulcan was very different from her father, even though m some ways they were alike.

She had the feeling that Vulcan was driven by stronger forces than her father had been, and the manner in which he' had concentrated on his pictures made her afraid for herself.

She had the feeling that nothing would turn him aside - from his chosen path, nothing would be allowed to intervene between him and what had aroused his interest.

For a man of such vibrant personality could love ever be anything of great importance?

Astara moved restlessly about her bed-room.

For the first time since she had slept at Worfield House, its beauty and its luxury meant nothing to her.

All she wanted was to be with Vulcan, whether it was in a tent in the desert, a cave in the mountains, or trekking for miles uncomfortably on a wild mule or bad-tempered camel.

"I love him! I love him!" she cried despairingly.

But she felt that her voice was smothered in the silk hangings of the bed, in the softness of the carpet and in the beauty of the painted veiling.

Then as if she could not face reality but wanted only to return to her dreams; she got back into bed and shutting her eyes recaptured the sensations she had felt when Vulcan kissed her.

She felt herself thrill and thrill again to the wonder of his lips, the closeness of his arms and the deepness of his voice.

She had seen the fire in his eyes and she knew that she aroused him and that he had spoken the truth when he said ' he wanted her.

But how much? And for how long?

She had found it difficult at breakfast to talk brightly of commonplace things with William and Lionel.

They were both looking exceedingly handsome in . their riding-clothes, their boots polished until they reflected like mirrors the objects around them, their cravats masterpieces of fashion and style.

But Astara's mind kept returning to the plans that she had made for Vulcan to dine to-night at Worfield House.

She hoped he would be disappointed when he saw what she had written on the piece of paper that the groom would carry to Little Milden.

"I cannot come to-day, but will be with you first thing in the morning, Aphrodite."

If he was disappointed, he might more easily agree to Mr Barnes suggestion that he should make his uncle happy by dining to-night at Worfield House.

Astara had taken pains to disguise her hand-writing in case he should compare it with the letter which was still lying unopened on his desk.

Perhaps now that he had taken his pictures to London he would be prepared to open the letters that awaited him and deal with them.

She had a feeling that because he was so astute and perceptive he would guess who she was, and she wondered what she could do if he refused in consequence to come to Worfield House.

She was suddenly beset by a terrifying fear that rather than meet her again as Sir Roderick's Ward he would leave immediately for Paris.

She wanted to cry aloud at the idea.

Then she remembered that before he left England he would have to wait for her picture to be engraved in London so that he could take it with him.

At the same time, even if he did not go at once to Paris, he still might leave Little Milden.

"What is the matter, Astara? You look worried !" It was Lionel who asked the question.

She thought it was typical of the two cousins that it should be Lionel who noticed her feelings while she was certain that William was only concerned with his own.

"The matter? Why should anything be the matter?" Sir Roderick asked before Astara could reply. "You are not ill?"

"No, of course not !" Astara replied. "I am greatly looking forward to our ride. We are so lucky to have such wonderful weather. I see the newspapers say that it is the warmest April there has been for twenty years! "

Her words diverted Sir Rodericks attention and he began to talk of Aprils he had known in the past when there had been frost and unseasonable showers of hail.