The Vision of Desire Part 35

"There's Ann," she said.

For an instant Eliot's face seemed convulsed, twisted into a grim mask of agony.

"Yes," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "There's Ann. And because of you, I can't believe in her."

It was like an accusation flung straight in her face. She shrank back as though he had struck her. So he cared for Ann--like that.... And because of what she had done, because of her sin of ten years ago, he would not trust her--would not trust any woman.

"You make my 'account rendered' a very heavy one," she said unsteadily.

Then, on a note of increasing urgency: "Don't judge Ann--by me, Eliot.

She's different ... the kind of woman G.o.d meant women to be. If you care for her, you won't make her pay--for what I did."

His expression altered slightly. A new look came into his eyes--of uncertainty, as though he were regarding things from some fresh angle. But he made no answer, and before Cara could speak again Robin's cheerful voice broke in upon them.

"We've just finished our rubber," he called, as he came towards them. "Will you folks come and take a hand?"

Then, as neither of them made any immediate response, he paused uncertainly and glanced in, an embarra.s.sed way from one to the other, vaguely conscious that his appearance on the scene had been inopportune. Womanlike, Cara was the first to recover her self-possession.

"Yes, of course we'll come," she said quickly. "But I haven't played cards for so long that I'm sure whoever is unlucky enough to draw me for a partner will be thankful Miss Caroline has limited the stakes to a penny a hundred."

The ease with which she spoke sufficed to rea.s.sure Robin completely.

"You'll play, Coventry?" he said, as they all three turned and walked towards the companion-way.

"I'll cut in--and take my chance," answered Eliot.

Cara glanced at him swiftly. His mouth wore a grave little smile, as though the words bore for him a second and deeper meaning than the obvious one of their reply to Robin's question.

CHAPTER XX

REFUSAL

The process of making a tour of the _Sphinx_ had been a lengthy one. The yacht was beautifully appointed, and there had been much to examine and admire. Brett, who loved every inch of her, from the marvellous little gold figure of a sphinx, which he had had specially designed and carved as a mascot, down to the polished k.n.o.bs and b.u.t.tons in the engine-room, had expatiated with considerable length and fervour upon her various beauties and advantages, and by the time he and Ann emerged on to the deck once more it was to find it deserted by the rest of the party.

Brett moved a couple of deck-chairs into a sheltered corner.

"You must be tired," he said remorsefully. "I've kept you standing about an unconscionable time while I yarned on about my old tub. If you'll sit down here, I'll go and fetch you a wrap."

Ann subsided into one of the chairs not unthankfully.

"But I don't want a wrap," she protested.

"You will, presently. You must remember it's September, even though it is a warm evening."

He departed on his errand, returning shortly with a wrap for her shoulders, together with a light rug which he proceeded to tuck carefully round her.

She was reminded of the first occasion on which they had met, when the charming way in which he had waited upon Lady Susan had moved her to the reflection that he might be rather an adept in the art of spoiling any woman. But she had not forgotten that he would want to master her first--as he had mastered the bay mare, afterwards coaxing her into friendship.

They conversed desultorily for a time. Then, tossing away the cigarette he was smoking, Brett shot an abrupt question at her.

"Well, so you like the yacht?" he demanded.

She nodded.

"I think it's just perfect," she answered cordially.

"I'm glad. Because"--he leaned forward and looked at her intently with a curious sparkling light in his eyes--"I hope you'll spend a good deal of time on board her."

"I?" Ann endeavoured to speak as casually as possible, warned by that sudden danger-signal.

"Yes. Wouldn't you enjoy cruising about the world a bit?"

"Are you thinking of inviting us all to go for a trip in the _Sphinx_? I'm afraid," shaking her head, "we're most of us much too busy people to go racing off half across the world at a moment's notice."

"I wasn't thinking of inviting you all," he returned coolly. "Even if the yacht could accommodate you. I was limiting the proposed yachting party to you--and me."

Ann moved restlessly.

"Don't be absurd, Brett."

He laughed--that gay, triumphant laughter of his which always made her a little afraid. It sounded so sure, so carelessly confident.

"Then don't fence with me any longer," he retorted. "What's the use of pretending, anyway?"

"Pretending? I'm afraid I don't understand." She threw a quick, dismayed glance down the length of the deck, devoutly wishing that some one would come along and interrupt them. But there was n.o.body in sight except one of the crew--and he was keeping his eyes very studiously turned away from the corner where they were seated.

"You don't understand?" Brett's voice roughened a little. "Haven't I made it clear what I want? I want _you_--"

"No, no!" Ann jumped up from her chair precipitately. "Don't say it, Brett!

Please don't. I--I don't want to hear."

There was a note of urgent pleading in her hurried speech, but if he heard it he paid no attention. He was on his feet as quickly as she was. Perhaps if she had looked at him she would have realised that she was drawing upon, herself the very thing she was trying to avoid. But she had averted her face, afraid of the blue flame of his eyes, and his quick movement, silent and certain as the leap of a panther, filled her with a sudden irrational terror. She started to run. Then, her feet entangled in the rug which had slipped to the floor when she sprang up from her seat, she stumbled and pitched helplessly forward.

But she did not reach the ground. Brett's arms closed round her like a vice of steel, and the next moment she felt his lips on hers--on her eyes, her throat, the gleaming curve of moon-white shoulder, straining against them in fierce, possessive kisses that seemed to drain her of all strength to resist.

At last:

"Now do you understand?" he demanded hoa.r.s.ely. "I love you!... G.o.d in heaven! I wonder if you know how much I love you!"

"No, no!" She struggled to free herself from his arms, but he held her in a relentless grip that no power of hers could fight against.

"Let me go!" she gasped, finding herself helpless against him.

His eyes burned down on her.

"I'll let you go when you promise to be my wife--not before. Say you love me, Ann!"