‘Just right for sheer stockings,’ Briony commented impishly to Marian as she paid for them, and after a startled glance the older woman had replied thoughtfully, ‘I’m beginning to see what Kieron means when he talks about the woman you’ve buried away, although now she seems to be re-emerging with a vengeance!’
* * *
Briony purposefully waited until Kieron was ready himself before changing for dinner, and she was aided in this unknowingly by Marian, who suddenly remembered that such a celebration demanded something special to drink and asked Kieron to go out and get it.
‘Champagne, of course,’ Briony heard her saying as Kieron followed her out of their sitting room, ‘and I understand Héloise is giving us duck with orange for the main course.’
When he had gone, Briony had a leisurely bath, soaking herself in her favourite bath oil, her hair tied up in a knot to keep it dry.
When she emerged from the perfumed water she dried herself and sprayed her body liberally with a perfumed emollient. What had Kieron called her the other night—‘a sacrifice to Bacchus?’ Her hands trembled on the satin underwear. Never, ever in her life had she set out to deliberately entice a man as she was doing tonight, and for that reason alone she simply dared not think of failure. Her colour was high as she caught sight of herself in the sheer stockings and cobwebby lace. She was just reaching for her blouse when the door suddenly opened and Kieron strode in, stopping dead as he saw her. For a second his eyes widened in entirely male appreciation and then he was smiling, no emotion discernible in his expression but satisfied comprehension as he drawled mockingly.
‘So I was right after all.’ His fingers ran lightly along one silk-clad thigh and Briony’s flesh trembled in response. ‘What wrought the change, I wonder?’ Before Briony could tell him, he had turned away, leaving her breathless and faintly disappointed. ‘I’ll go in and have a look at Nicky while you finish dressing. Unless of course you want any assistance?’ One dark eyebrow rose sardonically, and Briony longed more than she had longed for anything in her life for the sangfroid to say casually, ‘Yes, please.…’ But she still lacked the courage for such responses, and although her eyes appealed for help, Kieron was already walking towards Nicky’s room, leaving her no alternative but to pull on the peach silk blouse and fasten it with fingers which had suddenly become terribly clumsy.
The faintest touch of green eyeshadow and a slick of lip-gloss were all the make-up she needed. The peach silk whispered softly round her legs, and she wondered if it was merely the sensuous feel of the rich fabric against her flesh that made her feel such wanton desire for the touch of Kieron’s hands, and the demanding possession of his body.
Louise scowled when she appeared in the elegant dining room, her eyes flashing resentfully over the peach silk and the rounded curves of Briony’s breasts beneath the low neckline. She was wearing another slim sheath of a dress, but the black fabric made her skin look faintly sallow and Briony knew without vanity that tonight, of the two of them, she looked the more attractive.
They started the meal with a fresh fruit cocktail, deliciously refreshing and light before the succulent roast duckling with its sharp orange sauce and crisp vegetables cooked and served as only the French seemed to know how.
She sipped her dry white wine, enjoying the way it set her blood on fire, a faint flush on her cheeks as she caught Kieron’s eye across the table.
To follow the duckling they had crěpes suzettes and fresh, sweet strawberries, and although Briony shook her head, Kieron insisted on pouring her a glass of Sauternes, gold and honeyed and tasting like nectar.
By the time the meal was over she felt lightheaded. Marian suggested that they adjourn to the drawing-room, where she drew Louise into conversation about her mother, much to the latter’s obvious annoyance.
Briony touched her tongue to her upper lip, wishing Kieron would stop staring out into the darkness and come and sit beside her. He was wearing evening clothes again and they made him seem slightly remote.
‘I think I’ll go to bed,’ Briony said breathlessly at last, hoping no one would notice her faint hesitation. It was only ten o’clock, but surely Kieron would.…She glanced hesitantly at him, willing him to turn round and announce that he would go with her, but he did not, and she felt Marian’s eyes resting sympathetically on her, as she turned to leave the room.
In their bedroom she sat on the edge of the bed, plucking nervously at the bedspread, and starting at every tiny sound, her eyes fastened on the door. Half an hour passed with no sign of Kieron, and her hopes started to fade, her earlier excitement turning to misery. Either she had not made her invitation plain enough or he was not interested enough to take it up. She waited another fifteen minutes and then walked out of the house, past the floodlit pool, to where the narrow steps led down to the beach. The pounding of the sea against the rocks was primeval and eternal. The evening was warm, a soft breeze blowing inland, and possessed by an urge she could barely comprehend, Briony slowly removed the silk blouse and skirt, placing them gently out of reach of the sea. As the breeze caressed her flesh she hesitated, and then like a sleepwalker, removed her remaining articles of clothing, welcoming the silky embrace of the waves as she walked slowly into the sea.