The Japanese Screen. Anne Mather

but Lucie was speaking again and Fernando had to move reluctantly towards the stairs.

      ‘If you will wait a few minutes, Fernando,’ she was saying, ‘I will come with you. That is …’ her lips curved provocatively, ‘that is – if you do not mind.’

      Fernando thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket. ‘Do you think it is your sort of outing, Lucie?’ he inquired dryly. ‘Er – you are aware that Miss King is accompanying us, are you not?’

      Lucie’s brows drew together. ‘Miss King?’

      ‘But of course.’ Fernando was charming. He turned to look into the girl’s indignant, but as yet impotent, face. ‘Is that not so, Miss King?’

      It was the moment of truth, the moment he dreaded. He was daring her to deny it. But to his relief she merely bent her head and said in muffled tones: ‘Yes, of course, señor.’

      Lucie looked almost as angry as she had done the night before, but she controlled herself by a supreme effort and said: ‘In that case, there is no point, is there, caro?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Instead, I shall await your return with impatience. Did the maid tell you that I expect you to stay for lunch?’

      Fernando sighed. ‘She did. But I cannot.’

      ‘Why not?’ Lucie was angry again.

      ‘It is not possible, Lucie. The zoo is a large place. I do not expect to be back before – well – four o’clock.’

      ‘Four o’clock!’ Lucie was furious. She gathered the negligée closer about her, apparently uncaring of the fact of its transparency. ‘Very well, then. You will dine with us, si?’

      Fernando hesitated. To issue a firm refusal could continue this discussion interminably. With a faint shrug, he said: ‘Perhaps, Lucie, perhaps.’ He forced a smile. ‘We must be going. I have a taxi waiting.’

      Lucie’s jaw was taut. ‘Until dinner, then.’

      Fernando gave her a small bow. ‘Until later,’ he agreed, non-committally.

      Miss King put on a grey coat to match her skirt and accompanied him out to the cab. They all climbed in and not until Eduardo was staring in an engrossed manner out of the window did she say: ‘I should be glad if you would never place me in such an awkward position again, señor! The invitation you issued was for Eduardo alone, and you know it!’

      Fernando lay back in his seat, half turned towards her, watching her intently. Her voice was low and angry, but it had a husky intonation which he found pleasing. When she was angry, as now, she was disturbingly feminine, and not even the plain, even ugly, uniform could disguise that He wondered what she would look like in casual clothes? He wondered what her name was. How old she was.

      Realizing she was waiting for him to make some comment, he said: ‘All right. It was – initially. However, I thought that perhaps you might enjoy the outing—’

      ‘I don’t believe you!’ She was abrupt.

      ‘Oh, really?’ Fernando didn’t altogether care for her manner. ‘Is not that a rather insolent remark?’

      She sighed. ‘I’m not blind, señor. Nor am I a fool.’

      ‘I never imagined you were.’

      ‘Nevertheless, that was not the reason you insisted on my company, and I’d be grateful if in future you’d refrain from using me to extricate yourself from situations which have grown too hot for you!’

      ‘Why, you—’ He bit off an epithet, conscious that for the first time in his life he had the urge to strike a woman. He stared at her angrily. No one had ever spoken to him in such a manner, would ever dare to do so! He was enraged, not least because although in one way she was speaking the truth, his own involvement was such an innocent one. ‘Do you realize I could put you out of this cab here and now, drive back to Señora Castana, and have you dismissed at once!’

      She shook her head. ‘That’s entirely up to you, of course.’

      ‘Don’t you care?’ He was astounded.

      She hesitated. ‘Well, I shouldn’t like to lose my job for incompetence, but this is rather different, isn’t it?’

      Fernando chewed his lower lip. He had never met anyone quite like her before, and as his anger dispersed almost as quickly as it had come he found himself in the ignominious position of wanting to explain his motivations.

      Frowning, he said: ‘I see no reason why I should justify my actions to you, but I can assure you that while there might be some truth in your suggestion that I invited you to evade—’ He glanced at Eduardo rather significantly. ‘Well – to evade certain people, the situation is by no means too – hot – for me!’

      She pressed her lips together and he had the disturbing suspicion that she was trying not to smile, a suspicion which was increased when she looked up at him.

      ‘You’re laughing at me!’ he accused irritably.

      ‘No, I’m not.’ She made a helpless gesture. ‘Besides, what you choose to do with your time is no concern of mine except where it impinges on mine.’

      ‘Madre mia, I know it’s not!’ he snapped shortly, angry now that he had tried to explain. ‘If you would rather not accompany us then I shall direct the driver to take you back again,’ he added, in stiff tones.

      She looked at him then and he saw that her eyes were a curious shade of deep violet, African violet, dark and beautiful. ‘I didn’t actually say that I didn’t want to accompany you,’ she said carefully. ‘Only that I didn’t wish to be involved in – in schemes.’

      ‘My schemes?’

      ‘If you like.’

      ‘You still believe—’ He broke off. ‘I give you my word. Lucie – that is – your employer and I are friends, that is all.’

      Her lids fell to hide her expression. ‘If you say so, señor.’

      Fernando controlled an almost irresistible desire to shake her. Was she deliberately goading him? Or was the image of Lucie in her negligee so firmly imprinted upon her mind as to negate anything he might say? He couldn’t be sure. He didn’t even know why he felt bound to try and explain.

      Changing his tack, he inclined his head and said: ‘Very well, Miss King. I suggest we forget the unfortunate beginning and try and enjoy the day.’ He frowned. ‘We have not even been introduced. Fernando Cuevas, at your service, señorita.’

      It was beholden upon her to make some similar statement, but she was obviously reluctant. He wondered why. His experience of women had taught him that he was invariably regarded in a favourable light, and while he did not normally make any effort to exert the charm which came so naturally to him, it was galling to realize that to this young woman he represented something else.

      At last she said: ‘My name is Susannah, señor, Susannah King.’

      ‘Susannah.’ He repeated the word reflectively. It suited her. It was a wholly feminine appellation.

      Eduardo turned from the window at that moment, gesticulating excitedly. ‘Señorita, señorita, is that St. Paul’s catedral? You said you would take me there one day, señorita. Will you? Will you?’

      Susannah leant forward and then smiled. ‘Oh, no, Eduardo, that’s not St. Paul’s. That’s just a church. St. Paul’s is bigger, much bigger.’

      ‘Perhaps you would permit me to escort you both there another day,’ suggested Fernando. ‘Perhaps tomorrow?’

      As soon as the words were uttered he wondered why he had said them. He had been reluctant to come out this morning. What was he thinking of – suggesting yet another visit to the Castana house?

      Susannah King was looking