The Tender Years by Anne Hampton Page B

she knew it. For it was not Luke’s fault that Clarice was here, but as long as she was he had to be gracious to her. What did she, Christine, expect him to do—tell the girl to go off and entertain herself, because he had a young friend with him? I’m rotten, decided Christine and tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks, tears of regret that she could even think of being so hateful with her dearest Luke.

Chapter Four
    Luke’s face was set in rigid lines and there was a wrathful thrust to his voice as he said, ‘You’ll have dinner with Clarice and me— No more arguments!’ he added when Christine opened her mouth to interrupt. ‘You’re here in my care; your father would never have allowed you to come on your own—’
    ‘I am eighteen!’ she cried indignantly.
    ‘And please don’t interrupt me,’ rasped Luke, sending her a glowering glance. ‘Your father put you in my care and he’ll expect me to look after you. There’ll be no dining out for you with this man you’ve picked up at the poolside.’
    ‘I didn’t pick him up!’
    ‘No? Then he picked you up. What’s the difference? The argument’s ended,’ he said repressively and walked with unhurried steps to the cocktail cabinet to pour himself a drink.
    ‘Do you suppose I shall let Kevin down just because you are adopting this dictatorial manner with me?’ Defiance edged her tone but in her heart there was pain. What was happening to her and Luke these days? He had never been like this with her before . . . but, she was quick to own, neither had she been like this with him. She had always treated him with respect, remembering that he was older; she had always accepted his advice, admitting he was wiser; she had always allowed herself to be bent to his will, because of his mastery—gentle mastery it was true, but his word was to be obeyed for all that. But now . . . She was defiant, but why? It was a question she was unable to answer and she felt ashamed because the more she dwelt on her behaviour the less excuse she could find for it. Luke had poured the drink and was holding the glass in his long fingers, twirling it as if to see the oily surface catch the light.
    ‘Did you want a drink?’ he asked.
    ‘You’ve ignored my question, Luke.’
    ‘I’ve said my last concerning the matter of whom you are dining with. You’ll do as I say, Chris, and forget this date you have made.’
    She bit her lip, aware of his austere withdrawal as he sat down and put the glass on a side table close to his chair. He seemed no longer interested in her and she wondered if he had forgotten he’d asked her to have a drink.
    ‘I feel the odd one out,’ she said at last. ‘Surely you want to be with your girl friend—alone with her, I mean?’
    ‘I’m quite happy with the situation as it is.’ He looked at her over the rim of his glass he had now ricked up. ‘And if I’m not complaining, then why should you?’
    ‘It’s not a complaint,’ she denied. ‘I just feel—well, out of it.’
    Rubbish!’ His anger was dissolving but impatience took its place, it’s this thing about Steve—’
    ‘It has nothing to do with Steve,’ she said. ‘It’s me—the way I feel.’ She swung around, expecting to see Clarice come into the room but the door was swinging open on its own. She moved to close it, murmuring, ‘I thought it was Clarice.’
    ‘She’ll not be coming here; she’s to meet us in the lounge in half an hour.’
    ‘She’s not coming here—why?’
    ‘Because I haven’t invited her.’
    ‘Does she need to be invited, then?’
    ‘Of course, seeing that this is my private sitting room.’
    Christine frowned in puzzlement. ‘But if she’s your girl friend, then she’ll feel she has a right to come and go, surely?’
    ‘Just how serious do you imagine my friendship is with Clarice?’ he asked, leaning forward to lift his glass again.
    ‘It isn’t serious?’ A leaden weight was lifting with every second that passed.
    ‘Not at