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‘You know what Doctor James said, Father,’ Rorke interrupted. ‘First of all you’ve got to get well enough to have the operation.’
‘I sometimes have a rest after lunch,’ Robbie piped up, looking at Leigh with interest. He had been quiet during the meal, but now astounded Lisa by saying, ‘You’re my daddy’s daddy, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am,’ Leigh agreed gravely, ‘and you’re my grandson.’
‘Are we going to live here for ever?’ Robbie asked Lisa, round-eyed.
‘I…’
‘Yes,’ Rorke interrupted, frowning her down, and quickly changing the subject. It wasn’t fair of him to lie to Robbie. The little boy was too young to understand the reasons behind it and when the day came when they eventually had to leave the island he wouldn’t understand. What were Rorke’s real intentions? she wondered as she went upstairs with Robbie. Leigh had been looking very tired, and Mama Case explained as she led the way to their rooms that he had only been allowed out of bed because Doctor James had been frightened that he would make himself ill if he didn’t agree.
‘Him one very sick man,’ Mama Case told her, and suppressing a sigh Lisa agreed. Eventually Rorke would have to come to some decision concerning his future. As long as Leigh was so gravely ill she couldn’t see him doing anything that would prejudice his father’s health, but if Leigh were to have the operation and survive it… what then? Would Rorke sue for divorce and marry Helen?
Mama Case stopped outside a bedroom and opened the door.
It was a large room, one Lisa dimly remembered as being empty during her childhood. It was furnished with French Empire furniture, delicate and feminine, festoons of pastel cotton and lace falling from the gilt circlet set in the ceiling above the double bed. The air-conditioning hummed softly, and the French windows were open on to the balcony outside the window.
‘The master had this room decorated special for you as a wedding present.’ Mama Case explained, adding with a wide smile, ‘That sure some quarrel you and Master Rorke have, Miss Lisa. Master Leigh sure was as mad as fire with Rorke when he came back without you. Him say you too young for marriage bed, but not too young to have Rorke’s baby, eh?’ she concluded with a sly grin at Robbie, who was watching open-mouthed.
Was that what Leigh had thought? Lisa wondered. That Rorke had rushed her into a marriage she wasn’t ready for? Had Rorke allowed him to continue thinking that? But what had happened to her letter? It was becoming more and more obvious that Leigh hadn’t received it. Could Rorke have kept it from him, preferring to be thought cruel rather than a cuckold? But she had written the truth to Leigh. It was pointless raking up the past now, she thought, suppressing another sigh. For one thing, Leigh’s health was too precarious for her to risk upsetting him by dragging up what had happened over five years ago.
‘Master Robbie him sleep in here,’ Mama Case told her, indicating a room that led off her own room. In it there was a small bed and a chair. The room had obviously once been a dressing room, but it was more than adequate as a bedroom for Robbie and it had the advantage of being close to her. Another door revealed a bathroom decorated in the same colours as her bedroom. Had that too been intended as a wedding present from Leigh? Her heart ached with remembered pain. How had he felt when he learned that she wasn’t coming back?
‘We’m sure all glad you’ve come back, missie,’ Mama Case said softly. ‘Sure as hell missed you, especially the master. When you go it seem you took all the sunshine with you,’ she added softly, ‘but you’m back and you’m brought this young feller with you. He’m all right,’ she added, laughing. ‘He’m his daddy all over again!’
With Robbie fast asleep, Lisa prowled tensely round her room. She ought to be sleeping herself—she was tired enough, but somehow she was too restless.
On a sudden impulse she opened her bedroom door and went downstairs. The entire house seemed deserted, but then, of course, this was the time of day when most people slept. Rorke had always been the exception, she remembered, and she too had always disdained the siesta period in those days.
Almost of their own volition her feet trod the old familiar path down to the cove below the house. The steps cut in the rock face were hollowed and worn in places, and Lisa imagined, as she had always been prone to, those buccaneering ancestors of Rorke’s returning to this bay, climbing these steps, triumphant, their hands full of the booty they had claimed as they roamed the Caribbean seas.
The beach was a crescent of soft white sand, and Lisa gave in to the urge to remove her shoes and curl her toes into its warmth. The breeze caught her hair, teasing soft tendrils of it, the surf a soft lullaby of sound. No one was about, she had the beach to herself, and suddenly the urge to be once again the carefree girl she had been five years ago overwhelmed her. Without giving herself time to think Lisa pulled off her skirt and top. Her skin looked almost as pale as the sand, and she grimaced ruefully, remembering the tan she had once had. The sea beckoned, and without giving it a second thought Lisa discarded the lace bra and briefs she had been wearing under her suit. The water was warm, like liquid silk, and she struck out for the reef, swimming strongly, turning to lie on her back and gaze back at the cove. She had always enjoyed swimming, preferring the sea to the pool by the house. There was something about the Caribbean that no other sea could match. She remembered a brief holiday she had spent by the Mediterranean with distaste, recalling the scum and rubbish tainting the water. Here the sea was so clean that you could see the bottom, and unlike the Mediterranean, the islands of the Caribbean had not been over-developed, nor ever would be.
She would have to swim back to the shore, she acknowledged, otherwise she was in danger of falling asleep, lulled by the gentle action of the waves. Her swim had accomplished what remaining in her room had not, and now her mind seemed to be ready for the rest her body craved.
The sand felt hot beneath her damp feet. She had no towel, and she glanced uncertainly at her clothes. There was something pagan and wanton in the stroke of the sun on her body. She had never swum nude before nor ever wanted to, and yet now she felt a strange reluctance to return to the bonds of civilisation. Her skin seemed to crave the warmth of the sun, drinking it in as though it had been starved of it for years.
It wouldn’t do any harm simply to lie down for a few minutes and let the sun dry her skin she decided impulsively, although she would have to shower once she got back to her room, otherwise her skin would be sticky and salty.
Robbie! Lisa’s eyes flew open, guilt and anxiety filling her mind. She had left Robbie alone! She stretched out a hand for her clothes, stiffening suddenly as she saw Rorke walking towards her, dressed in jeans and a thin cotton shirt open to the waist. She saw his eyes widen fractionally as he took in the exposed curves of her body, and she had to fight against an overwhelming urge to run and hide herself from him. Hot colour seared her skin, and she wished desperately that she had not given in to the childish impulse to swim.
‘Well, well, what have we here? You have changed, Lisa,’ Rorke drawled, coming to a halt in front of her, his appraisal of her so intimate and thorough that she had to clench her fingers against her palms to stop herself from hitting him. ‘It seems to me that I can remember a time when you were too shy even to expose yourself in a swimsuit, and now…’
‘I came down here on impulse, and decided to swim,’ Lisa gritted, fury sparkling in her eyes as she reached for her clothes. ‘Turn your
back,’ she commanded angrily, ‘and I’ll get dressed. I fell asleep.’
‘Yes, Mama Case was getting in quite a panic about you. Just as well that I was the one who remembered how much you used to love this cove, or don’t you care any more who sees you naked?’
‘Of course I care!’ Lisa stormed at him, her fingers trembling as she grasped her clothes. Why on earth didn’t he simply go away and leave her in peace? Already her dignity was in shreds. It was like the very worst kind of nightmare, to be exposed and without the protection of clothes while everyone else was fully dressed.
‘What were you doing down here in the first place?’ Rorke demanded lazily, making no attempt to ease her embarrassment.
‘I’ve told you I was swimming. I came down for some fresh air.’
‘Did you, Lisa? Are you sure you didn’t remember that I used to swim down here? Are you sure you didn’t come down for this?’
She was in his arms, his hands moulding her nakedness against the tautness of his own body, sliding upwards to cup her breasts, his eyes glittering down into her pale face as she fought to deny his claim, but it was like looking at a stranger.
