Knight To The Rescue

Audrey was taken aback that a person could die of pneumonia in the modern-day world of antibiotics. And said so.

‘My wife suffered from multiple sclerosis for some time,’ he elaborated reluctantly, ‘and had developed an aversion to doctors. I was away from home when she came down with what she thought was flu. Friends tell me she refused to call in a doctor. When I arrived home she was very ill. I raced her to hospital but she died within hours.’

‘Oh, how awful for you, Elliot,’ Audrey murmured.

He looked uncomfortable with her sympathy, his fingers tightening around his glass. ‘Yes,’ he said gruffly. ‘Yes, it was.’

For her part, Audrey could not get out of her mind how devastating such a situation must have been. To have one’s wife, or husband, snatched away so...unexpectedly young. But then, sudden death was always devastating. Nothing could ever prepare you for the gaping hole left in one’s life when a loved one was wrenched away abruptly.

Audrey knew she was going to cry if she kept thinking on that subject. With an enormous strength of will, she pulled herself together, straightening her shoulders and taking a steadying breath. Only then did she notice Elliot was watching her very closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. Quite quickly she lifted her drink and took a sip, feeling embarrassed by his intense scrutiny.

‘You...didn’t have any children?’ she asked.

The muscles in his jaw clenched down tightly. ‘No. Moira couldn’t have any. Can we change the subject?’ he demanded brusquely.

‘Yes, yes, of course.’ She felt guilty for having been so insensitive. Clearly he had loved this Moira very much. And was missing her terribly. Audrey fell awkwardly silent.

‘Tell me about Russell,’ he said at last.

A shudder went through her. ‘Do I have to?’

‘I think it might be a good idea,’ he stated matter-of-factly. ‘Perhaps I can give you a different perspective on the man, show him up for what he is. Someone not worthy of any heartache.’

‘Believe me, I can see that already.’

‘What about your father?’

She frowned. ‘My father?’

‘Did he know you were going out with this Russell fellow?’

Her chest tightened. ‘Yes.’

‘And he approved?’

She shrugged in an effort to ease her instant inner tension. ‘He seemed pleased a man was taking some interest in me at last. My father is one of those men who thinks women are nothing if not married. He considers me prime spinster material,’ she finished with a bitter laugh.

‘That’s rubbish on all counts! Women don’t have to marry early these days. Or at all, for that matter. Either way, you’re only a spring chicken.’

‘I’m twenty-one next week.’

His laughter was dry. ‘Positively ancient.’

‘It is if you look the way I do. Lavinia always says that with money even the plainest girls can look good when they’re young, but after a certain age it’s downhill all the way.’

Audrey was startled by the look of sheer fury that flashed into his eyes.

‘And who,’ he ground out, ‘is Lavinia?’

‘My stepmother.’

‘Your stepmother...’ One of his dark brows lifted in a sardonic fashion. ‘And your stepmother told you you were plain?’

Audrey saw what he was thinking now. That Lavinia was the hackneyed wicked witch of a stepmother. ‘No, no, Lavinia wouldn’t be that cruel. She’s very nice to me. She tries awfully hard to help me with my hair and my clothes. But I’m a lost cause. Nothing seems to suit me.’

All the while she was talking, Audrey could see Elliot was not convinced.

‘And how old is this stepmother of yours?’ he probed, eyes unreadable as they flicked over her. ‘The one who helps you with your hair and clothes.’

‘She’s in her late thirties. But she looks younger. She’s very beautiful, and very confident in herself.’

An envious sigh escaped Audrey’s lips before she could prevent it. But she did so wish sometimes that she could look even half as gorgeous as Lavinia could.

‘I don’t know where you got the idea you weren’t attractive, Audrey,’ Elliot pronounced.

An angry resentment flared within her. ‘Please don’t keep flattering me, Elliot. It’s not necessary. I know what I am and I know what I look like.’

Suddenly there was no stopping the tears that had threatened all afternoon. They came with a rush, flooding her eyes, spilling down over her pale cheeks. Appalled at herself, she tried to choke back the sounds, to smother them by putting her wine glass down and dropping her face into her hands. And she succeeded. But her shoulders still shook uncontrollably, and she had no idea how heart-wrenching the sight of her was, huddled there, crying silent bitter despairing tears.

‘Audrey, don’t,’ Elliot groaned, and, putting his own glass down, gathered her into his arms. Quite automatically, her arms went round his securely solid chest to hug him with a desperate tightness.

When one of his hands lifted to stroke her hair, Audrey’s response took her by surprise. Despite her distress, she thrilled to his touch and when he whispered sweet words of comfort she quivered with secret delight.

‘You are nice-looking, Audrey. I haven’t been flattering you...’

How did it happen, that moment when he tipped her tear-stained face up and bent his mouth to hers? Audrey froze for a second, but his lips were soft, soothing. Instruments of sweetness and sympathy. She sighed into them, her own parting, her arms creeping up to slide around his neck.

It was then that the kiss changed, that Elliot’s mouth abruptly turned hard and demanding, his hands tightening around her. He forced her lips widely apart and his tongue drove deep.

A quiver of shock ran through Audrey’s body and she began to struggle against him, her hands beating at his chest in a wildly flowering panic.

When he finally reefed backwards, her big brown eyes lanced his with shock and confusion.

He shook his head, his face filling with self-disgust. ‘Oh, God...I’m sorry, Audrey. Terribly sorry.’ His shrug was as weary and frustrated as his voice. ‘I got carried away.’

‘But...but why?’ she choked out, staring at him. ‘I mean...’

A black, sardonic grimace twisted his mouth. ‘There’s one more lesson you must learn today about men, Audrey,’ he growled. ‘When it comes to sex they’re basically animals. Sometimes, they want what they want when they want it, and who they’re having it with doesn’t figure largely in their minds. I’ve been celibate now for nearly a year. Judging by what just happened, I think my monastic existence is about to come to an end.

‘But not with you, my dear young girl,’ he added, slicing her with a rueful look. ‘Not with you... Come on. I’m taking you home.’

CHAPTER TWO

MONDAY morning found Audrey in a turmoil. She didn’t want to go to work, didn’t want to face a sniggering Diane or a sulkily hostile Russell, didn’t want to spend the day pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Slumping down on the side of her bed, she buried her face in her hands. But there were no tears left to be spilled. She’d cried herself out last Friday night, cried and cried till she was drained of tears, drained of energy, drained of all emotion.

Saturday she had spent in a deep dark depression, Sunday in an apathetic gloom.

Now, the working week was beginning and her life was going on, whether she wanted it to or not. She had no alternative but to pull herself together and get on with living. But before she could do that she had to face, once and for all, the truth behind what had happened last Friday.

Her head lifted from her hands, a confusing pain squeezing at her heart. Which had hurt her the most? she puzzled. Russell’s betrayal? Or Elliot Knight’s speedy defection?

She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure about anything any more. All she knew was what she had always known—or suspected—about herself. That she was a complete failure where men were concerned. Russell’s only reason for making love to her had been greed, Elliot’s pity. Not that his brief kiss could be termed ‘making love’.

She would never forget his shock at his own behaviour. What on earth was he doing, he’d obviously thought, kissing this silly little nincompoop? And then getting carried away. No doubt he had to have been very frustrated at the time, Audrey decided bitterly. Nothing else could possibly explain a man like him turning uncontrollably passionate with someone like her. Russell had spelt it out. She had about as much sex appeal as a squashed frog!

Russell...

She could hardly bear to think of him, to think of what he had done. Or, more to the point, what she had allowed him to do. She was a fool—a stupid, naïve, plain, insecure little fool!

More desolation was about to sweep in when Elliot’s compliments filtered back to her mind, the ones he’d insisted were sincere. He had said she had lovely skin, nice eyes and a very kissable mouth. Had he been merely flattering her, trying to make her feel better? Or could it be true? Her heart lifted a fraction. Even Russell had said she wasn’t that bad looking.

She stood up and walked hesitantly over to the cheval mirror in the corner, her hand lifting to trace over her face and mouth as she stared into the mirror. In her opinion, her skin always looked too pale, her eyes too big, her mouth too little girlish. But yes...she supposed she wasn’t really ugly. Merely colourless.

Her gaze lifted to her hair and she shuddered. Nothing colourless there.

Russell’s hurtful comment about her clothes being ghastly jumped back into her mind and her eyes dropped to the hot pink suit she was wearing. A frown creased her brow as she accepted that, while it wasn’t exactly ghastly, it certainly didn’t look good. Odd, because Lavinia had a similar suit—in red—and it looked great on her. Audrey knew her figure was not as spectacular as her stepmother’s but it was still quite good. Slender, with enough curves in all the right places.

Her frown deepened in frustration. If only she had some fashion sense of her own, some confidence in her own judgement.

But she didn’t. She never had had. She wished there were someone other than Lavinia whose opinion she could ask, someone mature and objective who would be totally honest with her. It worried Audrey that perhaps Lavinia was saying things looked nice on her simply because she didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

Her mind slid, for the umpteenth time since last Friday evening, to Elliot Knight.

Elliot would tell her how it was. Elliot was honest, to the point of being blunt. Elliot...

He had driven her home in grim silence, depositing her on her doorstep with some very strong parting words.

‘I refuse to apologise again for what happened, Audrey,’ he said sharply. ‘You must take some of the responsibility. You’re a grown woman, and it’s about time you started acting and thinking like one. Firstly, in future don’t go letting any personable stranger talk you into going back to his place as you did with me this afternoon. It’s naïve and dangerous. Secondly, don’t go to bed with any man unless you, yourself, want to go to bed with him. Thirdly, be your own person in every way. Form your own opinions about who you are and where you’re going. You only have one life, Audrey. In the end, you’re the one who has to live with your decisions. Make sure they are yours.’

He had gone to leave her, then added over his shoulder, ‘I won’t be calling you, Audrey. Don’t take this personally. Any continuing friendship with me at this point in time is not in your best interests. Of course, if you’re ever in any real trouble, please don’t hesitate to ring and I’ll help in any way I can.’

Audrey sank down on the end of her bed with a sigh. She had to admit that wanting some advice about fashion hardly constituted real trouble. Not that she would dare ring him anyway. Quite frankly, she wouldn’t have the nerve. Just thinking about Elliot answering in that unswervingly direct voice of his made her quiver. In fact, thinking about Elliot at all was proving unnerving.

Her stomach curled as she recalled how it had felt when he’d kissed her, when his tongue had thrust deep into her mouth. Her heart had leapt madly, and the blood had roared around her head for a few seconds. At the time, she had been stunned by the raw sexual desire that had flared within her. She had never felt anything like it with Russell. Even now, just thinking about it sent her into a spin. She kept wondering what would have happened if her shock hadn’t made her struggle, if Elliot hadn’t stopped.

The thought started her heart racing. Audrey strongly suspected that it was these intense physical reactions Elliot could evoke in her—not so much Russell’s treachery—that had caused her such distress on Friday night. She’d been upset because she had not wanted Elliot to take her home. She had wanted him to take her to bed. There! She had admitted it. In fact, if she didn’t know better she might believe she had fallen out of love with one man and fallen in love with another in a single afternoon! Which was crazy!

Though perhaps not so crazy, Audrey conceded, if she had never been in love with Russell in the first place. Perhaps she’d merely been attracted to his good looks, flattered by his attention, seduced by his lies. Silly little Audrey, craving love, desperate to believe any assertions of affection. She shuddered as she recalled all his lies whenever he’d coaxed her into bed. Clearly he’d been laughing at her the whole time.

And rightly so, she decided wretchedly. She was a gullible young idiot. She was still being an idiot, imagining she was in love with another man now, just because he had aroused her with a passionate kiss.

Audrey shook her head in dismay. Dear me, when was she ever going to grow up and see things as they really were, and not as her romantic heart wanted to see them? Elliot was a handsome, sexy, sophisticated man who had acted gallantly towards her, then stirred her with a kiss at a vulnerable moment. That didn’t mean she was in love with him. Infatuated, perhaps. That was all.

But if she wasn’t in love with Elliot, why did the thought of never seeing him again produce such wrenching feelings inside her? Such black despair?

Audrey jumped to her feet, infuriated with herself. She was sick of feeling down, sick of self-pity, sick of romantic confusions and delusions. You’re young and healthy and not that bad looking, she told herself sternly. You’ll find someone to really love you one day, someone you’ll love back, without doubt, without distress. Now stop moaning and groaning and get down to breakfast!

Her father was already in the sun-room that served as a breakfast-room, devouring his habitual steak and eggs, when she made an appearance. Elsie was standing at his shoulder, refilling his coffee-cup.

‘Good morning,’ Audrey said with determined brightness as she pulled out a chair at the circular table. ‘Just coffee and one slice of toast for me, Elsie.’

‘Righto, lovie.’ Elsie waddled off. Having been a cook all her life, Elsie had sampled a few too many of her own makings. But she was a sweet old dear, without a mean bone in her body. Audrey was very fond of her.

Warwick Farnsworth looked up at his daughter with a reproachful frown on his face. ‘You’re not going to become one of those anorexics, are you, Audrey?’

She glanced across the table at her father and conceded that at fifty he was still a handsome man. Broad-shouldered and fit as a fiddle, he had thick brown hair, elegantly greying at the temples, and sharp blue eyes. For a brief moment, Audrey wished she’d inherited a few of his genes.

But not his lack of tact.

He had no idea how to relate to his daughter as a parent. Most of his conversations with her started with an exasperated-sounding question.

‘I’m not anorexic, Father. I’m five feet four and weigh eight stone two. That’s exactly what I should be.’

Audrey had learnt to answer her father with facts. He was a ‘facts’ man.

‘Hmph!’ he pronounced and picked up his coffee-cup, turning to flip open the morning paper next to him to the business section.

Elsie arrived with the toast and coffee, and Audrey settled down to spreading margarine and jam. Once her father had his nose in the newspaper, all conversation ceased. Which meant she was surprised when he suddenly spoke up again.

‘You do realise, Audrey, that Lavinia is going to a lot of trouble for your birthday on Friday night?’

Audrey tried not to have ungrateful thoughts. Shy in any social situation, she had requested no celebration at all, but Lavinia had insisted on a dinner party with some people from work. Audrey had only given in graciously when Russell had liked the idea.

‘She’s been a good stepmother to you,’ her father went on. ‘Very good. Even in the beginning, when you were hardly welcoming. She never once lost patience with you, despite your uncooperative, sullen disposition at the time.’

Sullen?

Resentment flared within Audrey. Hardly sullen. In pain maybe, from her own injuries from the car accident that had also claimed her mother. Two badly broken legs took a long time to heal. Not to mention her emotional pain of losing a mother she adored. But of course her father wouldn’t understand that. He’d shown how insensitive he was by remarrying within six months of his wife’s death.

With a clarity that had previously eluded her, Audrey finally accepted the rumours she had heard all her life and had blindly denied to herself. That her father had not loved her mother; that he had married her for the company.

She glared over at her father, recognising in him a man similar to Russell, a ruthlessly ambitious and mercenary man who had little love to give. He probably didn’t even really love Lavinia. She was merely a decorative hostess, a beautiful and convenient body to have in bed, a possession, much like the paintings and sculpture he’d started collecting recently.

What annoyed Audrey even more was that, despite finally recognising her father’s failings, she still loved him.

‘Lavinia tells me you’ve cancelled your invitation to Russell for the dinner party,’ he rapped out. ‘Is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

Her heart began thudding. ‘We split up.’

‘Why?’ he insisted on knowing.

She was about to make some feeble excuse when something—some indefinably rebellious surge—made her say, ‘I met someone else.’

Her father’s face showed astonishment. ‘You did? Who?’

Audrey gulped. Now she had done it. ‘You...you don’t know him.’

‘Well, what’s his name? Where did you meet him? What does he do?’

‘I—er—his name is Elliot Knight. He lives at Avalon Beach and he’s a man of independent means.’ She wisely decided not to answer the question about where she’d met him. She didn’t think her father would appreciate her saying Elliot had picked her up in a coffee-lounge.

‘He’s rich, you mean.’

‘Yes, I guess so.’

‘And he’s still interested in you.’

Audrey’s dismay was intense. So her father had known Russell was only interested in her money. And yet he had allowed the liaison to continue, knowing this all the time. Her sense of self-worth began to shrivel again. No man had ever been interested in her for herself alone. The only real emotion she’d managed to inspire in a man was pity. It was pity that had made Elliot come to her rescue, take her home, kiss her. Pity...

She wanted to cry with despair but her father was staring at her and some new strength—born of her recent bitter experience perhaps—kept her chin up, her eyes steady, forced her to say, ‘He’s very interested.’

‘Then why don’t you invite him to your party?’

‘Invite who?’ Lavinia asked as she swanned in in her favourite black satin négligé. Tall and voluptuous, with long wavy black hair flowing out over her shoulders, she was a striking and sensuous figure.

‘Morning, darling.’ She bent to kiss her husband’s forehead before drifting over to pour herself some coffee from the percolator on the sideboard.

Audrey stared after her with undeniable envy. Oh, to be so elegant, so sure of oneself, so darned sexy!

‘Audrey has a new boyfriend,’ her father announced with a mixture of surprise and fatherly pride. ‘She says he’s very interested in her.’

Audrey winced. Now she was well and truly in the soup.

Lavinia whirled to stare disbelievingly at her. ‘Really? Anyone we know?’

‘I’ve already asked that. She says not. A wealthy young playboy from the sound of things.’

‘But how would Audrey meet someone like that?’ Lavinia scoffed. ‘She never mixes in the social set around Sydney. Not that she shouldn’t. She just never bothers with that scene. Are you sure she’s telling the truth about all this? It all seems very odd.’

Audrey detested it when her father and Lavinia started talking around her. Normally, she either stayed unhappily silent or drifted away. But not this morning. ‘Why on earth would I lie, Lavinia?’ she challenged.

‘Why, indeed?’ the woman murmured.

‘I’m only too happy to tell you about Elliot. You only have to ask.’

Lavinia lifted her finely arched dark brows and walked indolently back to sit down with her coffee. ‘Well?’ she prompted. ‘Tell us, then. Where did you meet?’

Audrey swallowed, her newly discovered courage faltering. ‘I—er—I...’

The sardonic light in Lavinia’s black eyes forced Audrey to gather every available resource she owned. ‘We met at a party last Saturday night,’ she said, using Elliot’s own white lie to Russell. ‘Not the one just past. The weekend before.’

‘But you didn’t go out that night,’ Lavinia pointed out.

Audrey’s memory did a frantic data-search. Her father and Lavinia had gone out to a club that night. They hadn’t come home till after midnight and certainly wouldn’t have checked her room to see if she were in. Elsie was the only live-in servant and she always went to bed early.

Despite a pounding heart she managed a passably nonchalant shrug. ‘I wasn’t going to, but after you both went out an old schoolfriend of mine rang out of the blue and asked me to a flat-warming party. I’m certainly glad I went. Elliot’s a fascinating man.’

Lavinia was not about to let up. ‘If this Elliot’s so interested in you, why did he let you spend the whole of this last weekend moping in your room? Why didn’t he take you out?’

Audrey’s stomach was beginning to churn. ‘He went skiing. I...I didn’t want to go. I hate skiing.’

‘Looks like Audrey’s come up trumps at last,’ her father said, undeniably impressed. ‘Are we to hope for an announcement in the near future?’

Audrey blushed. ‘Really, Father. We’ve only just met.’

‘Fair enough. So when will he be back from skiing, this Elliot of yours?’

‘Today,’ she answered with astonishing glibness. There was no doubt lying came easier with practice. ‘Late this afternoon.’

‘Then you’ll be able to ring him tonight,’ Lavinia inserted smoothly, ‘and ask him to your party.’

‘Oh, but I...but surely...’

‘Come now, Audrey!’ Her father’s tone showed exasperation. ‘It’s quite permissable for a girl to ring a boy these days. And after all, it is your coming of age. I’m sure this young man won’t think you’re chasing him, asking him to a twenty-first.’

Audrey groaned silently. Next thing they’d both stand over her while she actually made the call.

‘Of course, if you don’t think this Elliot will come,’ Lavinia drawled.

Audrey stared at her stepmother. Strange, she’d always thought Lavinia liked her. But it was impossible to ignore the malicious gleam in those black eyes, or the smug sarcasm in her voice. It sparked a fierce determination Audrey hadn’t known was in her.

‘He’ll come,’ she bit out. ‘Don’t you worry about that.’

Lavinia’s smugness wavered and Audrey felt an uncustomary thrill of satisfaction. She’d get Elliot to come if it was the last thing she did. She’d beg. She’d bribe. And if all that failed she’d lie her teeth out.