Man of the Trees (3 page)

‘It looks as though he’s going to be an instant success with the ladies, anyhow,’ Gareth muttered in Ruth’s ear as soon as the new Forester and the D.O. had passed on to the next table.

‘Well, not with this lady, I can assure you,’ Ruth answered between her teeth.

Gareth took her hand. ‘Good for you! Keep it that way. Even I noticed the sarcastic smile on his face. I think he finds you amusing.’

‘That’s more than I find him. If the D.O. wants to show him the house, he’s welcome to do so—when I’m out.’

Jill leaned over. ‘Well, what do you think of him?’ she enquired of Ruth, a faint flush on her cheeks and an excited look in her eyes.

Gareth laughed. ‘Better not ask her. She met him earlier today, it seems, and they had something of an up-and-downer.’

‘A row, you mean? Oh, do tell us, Ruth. What happened?’

But Ruth was not going to be drawn into giving a blow-by-blow account of what had happened at her first meeting with Ross Hamilton.

‘I don’t want to talk about it. We each thought the other had no right to be in the inclosure, that’s all, but he was very rude about it.’

‘And you weren’t?’ quizzed Jill. ‘You’re a bit of a firebrand at times, aren’t you? I think he’s terrific—that stern look and touch of arrogance. A real he-man.’

Her husband raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Ye gods! Listen to her! Just remember you’re married to me, that’s all.’

‘Why is it,’ Gareth said reflectively, ‘that women seldom marry the type they profess to admire so much? Hugh isn’t either stern or arrogant, but just simply a nice guy—’

‘Maybe that’s why Ross Hamilton has remained a bachelor, so far,’ Ruth said. ‘He must be all of thirty. And men seldom marry the women they profess to admire, either.’ She added, ‘Maybe that’s why Linda Appleton is still single.’

Gareth gave her a surprised look. ‘Why bring Linda into it?’

‘Because she’s just come in through the door with one of our Foresters,’ answered Ruth.

For a minute or two conversation ceased as everyone looked across the room. Linda was the sort of woman who often brought a lull in the conversation. She was a strikingly good-looking woman and had the money to spend on making herself so. She was tall with fair hair which always looked perfectly groomed and was always dressed in the very latest fashion.

Tonight, she was wearing a most dramatic and
eye-catching
outfit in a dazzling white shiny material of the kind often seen in fashion shows, but rarely anywhere else except perhaps in smart London circles, but certainly not in the country. She stood just inside the doorway and looked all around the room, quite aware, Ruth guessed, of the sensation her appearance had caused.

‘I didn’t know she was friendly with Jason,’ muttered Gareth.

‘You never know with Linda,’ said Jill. ‘But I wonder—’

She was silenced by the smile of recognition which suddenly lit Linda’s face as her searching eyes lighted upon Ross Hamilton.

She advanced towards him. ‘Why, Ross, how marvellous to see you again! So sorry I wasn’t in when you called—and I’ve only just this minute got your message.’

A slow smile spread across his face the like of which made Ruth’s erratic heart miss a beat, much to her disgust.

By now, everyone in the club room watched as the two greeted each other in what could only be called a fond embrace.

‘Staking her claim, you might say,’ murmured Hugh. ‘I wonder if she’s the reason for his coming here?’

Ruth was wondering that, too. Did he intend marrying her? If so, she would have to get out of the Forester’s house pretty quickly. The idea worried her somewhat. She hated having to take time off from her work. She knew nothing about house-hunting and viewed the whole thing as a tiresome bore and a terrific undertaking.

Then she gave a twisted smile as she saw the D.O. trying to move the new Forester on to meet more people. If he and Linda Appleton were all that friendly, or there was a possibility of marriage there, some of the women who had been excited at the prospect of claiming Ross Hamilton’s attentions for themselves were in for a disappointment.

‘Now where in the world did he meet
her
?’ muttered Jill in a disgruntled tone.

Ruth laughed. ‘I don’t see that it affects you all that much, Jill. You’ve got a perfectly good husband of your own.’

‘Yes, of course, but it does make life a little more interesting when there’s a good-looking, unattached male around.’

Ruth shrugged. ‘I don’t happen to think he’s all that good-looking.’

‘Well, not in a film-star, sort of polished sense, perhaps, but a man doesn’t have to be good-looking to be attractive.’

Almost Ruth agreed with her, then her mouth set in a mutinous line. ‘As far as I’m concerned there’s nothing in the least attractive about him,’ she muttered. But even as she was speaking she noticed the easy grace with which he moved, the firm set of his broad shoulders and the proud tilt of his head.
Damn him,
she said to herself. He
is
attractive, altogether too much so. For a wild moment she wanted to stride over to him, thrust everyone else aside—including Linda—put her arm in his and say: ‘He’s mine.’

She wanted to kick herself. She was doing what she swore she would never do—succumbing to his dubious charms already.

In desperation she turned to Gareth. ‘For goodness’ sake, let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough.’

‘Can’t,’ he muttered. ‘The D.O.’s bringing him over here again.’

‘Oh, no—Well, I’ll get a taxi—’

But with Linda in tow, having deserted the hapless Jason, the D.O. and Ross Hamilton were already approaching their table. Not wishing to be blatantly rude at any rate to the D.O., Ruth subsided in her seat. There was a general shuffling around and more chairs were found. Ross turned to Linda and whispered something in her ear. She pouted, then smiled sweetly.

‘All right, Ross darling, but don’t be long.’

She strolled over to where her escort was waiting. Obviously Ross had suggested she leave them. He probably wanted to talk to the Foresters who were going to work under him. These included Gareth and Hugh, and Ted Withers along with Harry Fisher who sat at an adjoining table. Linda was not, generally speaking, considered to be one of the Forest people.

The atmosphere around the table had changed noticeably with the arrival of Ross Hamilton and the D.O. All polite and unnatural.

‘It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Hamilton,’ came from Jill in her most far-back voice. ‘I do hope you’ll settle down and be happy among us. We—we’re not a bad crowd, really.’

‘I’m sure—’ he answered, his dark face not moving a muscle. He looked all around at the club room. ‘This is a very nice place,’ he said. ‘Who painted the mural?’

Gareth put his arm across Ruth’s shoulder again. ‘Oh, that’s the work of our artist here. We’re very proud of her.’

Ross Hamilton’s cool glance went from Ruth to Gareth and then back to Ruth again. ‘I can see that,’ he said in a noncommittal fashion, not saying whether he liked, or did not like, the painting. ‘And the other pictures, too? Are they her work?’

‘They certainly are.’

Again, no comment. Ruth felt her scalp pricking and her anger rising. He was being deliberately rude again.

‘As I think I told you,’ The D.O. said quickly, as if sensing a tension between them, ‘Miss Medway is, at the moment, living in the Head Forester’s house. I’m sure she’ll let you know when she’s found something suitable for herself. But of course, as you yourself have said, there’s no hurry.’

Ross Hamilton inclined his head in agreement. ‘In the meantime, perhaps Miss Medway would allow me to look the place over. I’m thinking of getting married—and of course I shall want a family.’

For some unaccountable reason Ruth wanted to hit him, and somewhere deep inside her she was aware of a hurt, the nature of which she had not known before—a desire for a family of her own.

‘You’re welcome to come and look around any time you like,’ she told him distantly. ‘The door is always open.’

‘
Always
?’ he queried mockingly. ‘That must be rather draughty at times.’

‘I mean that I don’t lock the doors,’ she told him with quiet fury.

‘Really? Then you should. An attractive young girl like you alone in the house with the doors unlocked? That’s asking for trouble. But then, you do seem to ask for trouble, don’t you?’

Ruth gave a gasp of astonishment at this further example of the man’s blatant rudeness. But it was Gareth who came to her rescue.

‘She’s not the only one who’s asking for trouble,’ he said in a threatening tone of voice. ‘I’d ask you to watch what you’re saying, or you’ll have me to reckon with.’

‘Really?’ came the mocking voice. ‘And what will you do? Challenge me to a duel for the lady’s sake?’

‘Come outside and I’ll show you what,’ Gareth answered belligerently.

At this, the D.O. intervened. ‘Come now, Gareth, that’s no way to talk. I’m sure Ross didn’t mean anything. Let’s all have another drink.’

But Ruth felt she’d had enough of Ross Hamilton for one day. She rose to her feet.

‘I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me, I really think I must be going. I’ve had a busy day and I’m feeling tired.’ There was a general movement from the men as they rose politely. Jill laughed.

‘Good gracious, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say you’re tired.’

‘Well, I am now,’ Ruth retorted.

Gareth offered to see her home, and she protested that there was no need, but he said goodnight to the company and left the table. Ruth saw a faint smile of sardonic amusement on Ross Hamilton’s face which once again infuriated her.

Outside, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness for that! I couldn’t have stayed another minute in the company of that odious man.’

‘Neither could I,’ murmured Gareth.

‘But you’ve got to work under him. I only hope he doesn’t take it out on you. If he does I shall feel guilty.’

Gareth laughed. ‘There’s no need. I’ll guarantee I know as much about Forestry as he does, and if he tries to intimidate me, he’ll find he’s bitten off more than he can chew.’ He put his arm around her waist as he walked her to his car. ‘One thing’s for sure—you won’t be one of his fan club members, and for that, many thanks.’

She smiled absently. ‘I wonder if he meant what he said—about getting married?’ she mused.

Gareth opened the car door for her. ‘Very likely. Maybe it’s Linda. As I said before, perhaps that’s why he came here. On the other hand he might have just said it to warn the girls off, although if he’s the Don Juan he’s reputed to be—’

‘Oh, my goodness, what a picture!
The
girls all swooning over him to such an extent he has to protect himself. Well, he had no need to warn
me
off—and I should think he well knew it.’

‘Jill will no doubt spread it around. Mind you, he didn’t exactly say he was engaged to be married, only that he was thinking about it.’

He put the car in gear and drove off in the direction of Ruth’s home.

‘Well, let’s forget him for a while, shall we?’ she pleaded. ‘He isn’t that important.’

Gareth’s left hand let go the steering wheel to touch hers. ‘You’re darned right he isn’t.’

As it was still quite early, coupled with the fact that, had it not been for her Gareth would still be in the company at the Club, Ruth asked him in for a coffee. Ross Hamilton’s name was not mentioned again, but Ruth found she could not get him out of her mind.

They re-kindled the log fire in the living room and sat on the hearthrug and drank their coffee.

‘What are you doing over the week-end?’ Gareth asked.

‘Working. I must—I’ve lost such a lot of time lately, and I’ve got to start thinking of buying a house—or find a flat big enough to house me as well as all my paraphernalia. I think my best bet is an old house or cottage with a garage or outhouse I can convert into a studio.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Oh, what a business! I’m not looking forward to it at all—the disruption and everything.’

Gareth drained his cup and set it down by the side of her empty one, then he stretched himself out fully on the rug and looked up at her.

‘Ruthie, why don’t you marry me—let me take care of everything?’

She smiled and shook her head slowly. ‘Don’t keep on asking me, Gareth. I hate having to keep saying no to you.’

‘Then why not say yes? Don’t you want to get married?’

She frowned. ‘I—I don’t know. I—’ She sighed again. ‘I don’t really know what I want at the moment.’

‘I do.’

Suddenly Gareth pulled her down towards him and took her in his arms.

‘No, Gareth—please—’ she protested, not sure quite what his intentions were.

He brought his lips down on hers. ‘This is what you need—love. You need loving. Let me, Ruth, let me.’

He kissed her again, more ardently, but she struggled against him and sat up, her heart pounding.

‘Gareth, you mustn’t do that, otherwise I won’t be able to have you here. Please go now, anyway. I want an early night. Go back to the Club, they’ll still all be there. I—I’m sorry I brought you out.’