Legacy Of The Past

Dave roared with laughter. ‘Harvey married? Are you kidding? Who would take on a liability like him?’

‘Take no notice,’ said Harvey with mock disdain. ‘It’s simply that no one understands me.’

Madeline laughed. She was enjoying this good-natured bantering. It was so long since she had been in company young enough to indulge in it. Adrian, although easy-going in his own way, was definitely not the type to make fun of himself. And even Joe had had no time for facetiousness, and because of her early marriage Madeline had missed out on this kind of lighthearted interchange.

‘Oh, here’s Con,’ said Dave suddenly. ‘And our illustrious chief. They must have finished their business.’

Madeline and the others looked round. Two men were entering the room, both tall, but one was broader in the shoulders with lean good looks. They were both dressed in dark suits, but the broad-shouldered man was much darker skinned than his companion and was immediately recognizable to Madeline as the man who had driven the red car. Who was he? Conrad Masterson or Nicholas Vitale? Surely it could not be the latter!

‘Which one is Mr. Masterson?’ she asked Fran softly.

‘Why, the one on the left, honey,’ replied Fran. ‘Don’t you know him?’

‘No, I’m afraid not. So the darker man is Nicholas Vitale?’

‘Yes – handsome, isn’t he? He’s Italian, of course. That’s why he’s so dark-skinned. He’s spent a lot of time in the States. We all fell for him, naturally. But as you can see, I settled for Dave.’ She laughed at Dave’s indignant face. ‘Darling, Nicholas is the most elusive male since Adam!’

Madeline felt her stomach turn over. She had skidded into the car belonging to the owner of Sheridans. No wonder he had been annoyed!

Nicholas Vitale surveyed the throng in the lounge of the Mastersons’ house with cynical boredom in his eyes. Gatherings of this nature always bored him. Too much to drink and too many predatory females hanging around him. Had he not had business with Conrad Masterson he would not have been here tonight. He had found a small club in London which was much more to his taste. However, he was here now, and he was expected to stay at least for an interval.

His keen eyes searched the room for Harvey Cummings. Harvey was his personal assistant and public relations man. Harvey liked these kind of affairs and in truth they had had some good times together, but somehow he didn’t feel he was going to enjoy himself tonight.

He saw Harvey almost at once. He was standing with Dave Madison and his wife and another girl. He supposed the girl must be with Harvey.

Excusing himself from his host, he made his way through the chattering crowds to Harvey’s side. He acknowledged the greetings of the other guests in passing, but to the regret of the female contingency, he did not stop to talk. Everyone knew who he was, of course, and he knew they would be speculating about his activities. His private life was practically non-existent at times and he knew he had a ruthless reputation where women were concerned. To a certain extent his reputation was justified, but Nicholas himself was well aware that the women who involved themselves in his life expected no more than he gave them. If they were willing to play the game Nicholas’s way, he was certainly not the man to complain. Only Harvey of his circle of associates ever saw the real man behind the mask of diplomacy.

Harvey and his girl-friend were absorbed in conversation as he approached them and he had time to wonder who the girl was and what they were talking about. She was tall and slim and had hair of a very unusual and lovely colour. It swung loosely on her shoulders and looked thick and silky. He mused that Harvey could usually pick his women.

Putting a hand on Harvey’s shoulder, he said:

‘Do you mind if I break up this t?te-?-t?te?’

Harvey swung round and groaned. ‘God, I thought it was the law! Must you creep up on a guy like that?’

Nicholas grinned, and then his eyes narrowed. The girl with Harvey was known to him. She had been riding the scooter which had bumped into his car last Friday. She had obviously recognized him, too, for her face was suddenly suffused with colour.

‘Well, well,’ he drawled. ‘The world is really a small place.’

Harvey looked puzzled. ‘How’s that? Do you two know one another?’

‘Mrs … er … Scott and I collided last Friday,’ said Nicholas dryly. ‘I was in my car at the time and she was riding a scooter.’

‘Indeed?’ Harvey raised his eyebrows. ‘Say, Madeline, you didn’t say you knew Nick when he walked in.’

‘I don’t … that is….’ Madeline felt schoolgirlishly embarrassed. ‘Mr. Vitale merely helped me up, that’s all. We were hardly introduced.’

Nicholas was amused. Last week he had thought she had a very interesting face, but tonight she was quite lovely. He wanted to know more about her. He had taken down the number of her scooter as she was riding away and he had intended finding out more about her. What was she doing with Harvey? Particularly if she was married? He had no scruples about the kind of married women he knew, who invariably were involved with some man or other, but this creature was different. She wasn’t like the usual run of his acquaintances. She had a clear, open countenance; honest, you might say, and beautiful, wide eyes.

‘Be a pal, and get me a drink, Harvey,’ he said blandly, ignoring Harvey’s expression.

Harvey grimaced. ‘Now why did you come over here, old buddy?’ he asked in a mock-aggressive tone.

‘So you could buy me a drink,’ remarked Nicholas complacently. ‘Run along … old buddy.’

Harvey sighed and looked regretfully at Madeline.

‘So be it. We all have our crosses to bear,’ he remarked soulfully, causing Madeline to laugh at his injured manner, as he walked away.

After he had left them, Madeline twisted her glass nervously between her fingers, feeling tongue-tied. She was aware that he was studying her thoughtfully, and then he said:

‘You’re not annoyed that I broke up your conversation with Harvey, are you?’

Madeline looked up and shook her head vigorously.

‘Heavens, no! I only met him about half an hour ago.’

‘I see. I thought perhaps that you were his latest conquest.’

Madeline smiled. ‘Oh, no. Nothing like that.’

‘Good.’ Nicholas looked serious and drew out his cigarette case. ‘Do you smoke?’ After she had taken one he went on: ‘And your husband? Is he here tonight?’

‘No. My husband died nine years ago.’

‘Nine?’ He looked very surprised. ‘Forgive me, but I thought you were newly married.’

‘Oh, please,’ Madeline sighed. ‘I’m thirty-three. Don’t say I look like a teenager, please.’

He smiled. She was refreshingly different. Women of her age usually liked to be thought very young. It was his experience that women never liked to be thought the age they really were. The very young ones liked to be thought older and experienced, and the older ones spent all their time trying to recapture a youth which simply emphasized their actual ages.

‘All right,’ he agreed mildly. ‘But you are a very attractive woman. And I think I ought to apologize for my rather churlish behaviour last week. I was not very polite. I’m sorry. I assure you I am not usually so ungallant. However, had we not met this evening, I should have definitely made an effort to discover your address and make some atonement.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ murmured Madeline, feeling out of her depth.

‘I must disagree. That afternoon I had had a rather disturbing telephone call from my daughter before leaving the factory and I’m afraid I was in quite an angry frame of mind.’

‘That’s all right,’ replied Madeline, her heart sinking unreasonably at the mention of his daughter. She might have known he would be married. ‘Is … is your wife over here with you?’

‘My wife, also, is dead,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘She died when Maria was born, all of fifteen years ago.’

‘I see.’ Madeline bent her head. ‘I have a daughter, too. She’s a year older, sixteen.’

‘Really?’ He looked astounded. ‘Maria is still in Rome. She wants to come over here and join me. Of course, she objects to my long absences abroad and as she lives with my mother she’s rather spoiled and usually gets what she wants.’

‘Do you intend being here long?’ asked Madeline, looking up again.

He made an undecided gesture. ‘Two months; three maybe. I’ve only been here ten days. I can’t tell. If I like it here I may stay on.’