The Devil's Pawn Read online

  Cara nervously fingered the modest neckline of her pale jade dress, but when she noticed the tremor in her hand she dropped it to her side at once and curled her fingers into her palm. Her face was pale beneath the tan she had acquired during the recent summer months, and her eyes had become dark pools of naked fear. She looked like someone preparing to go to a funeral instead of a wedding, she realised in a spurt of rational thought, and she began to apply her make-up with precisional care in an attempt to hide what lay beneath.

  She would never forget the expression on her father's face three nights ago when, confronted by Vince Steiner in her father's study, she had consented to become Vince's wife. Her father had been torn between a deep concern for her and a guilt-ridden relief, and he had started to shake, his face going a chalk white. Cara had wanted to weep when she had witnessed his agony, but Vince Steiner had been obnoxiously triumphant about his easy victory.

  Cara felt a rising hatred at the memory, but her hatred was soon replaced with fear. Within less than two hours she would be married to a man she did not love; a man who seemed to repel her with everything he did and said, and for a year she would have to endure whatever he chose to do to her. Shudder after shudder rippled through her, but she resolutely shut her mind to the thoughts which threatened to create chaos with her outwardly calm, serene appearance. For her father's sake, and her mother's, she would have to hide her feelings. During the long hours of the night she had tutored herself into feeling nothing but numb acceptance, and to give way now would be to admit defeat.

  She picked up her wide-brimmed hat, the colour of which was a pale jade to match her dress, and she pinned it to her head at an elegant angle which partially shaded her eyes. Her gloves lay on the bed beside her handbag and, when she got up to fetch them, there was a tap on her door.

  'Are you ready, Cara?' David Lloyd asked moments later when he stood facing her, and her heart wept for him when she saw the greyness of his pallor.

  'Yes, Dad, I'm ready.' But how ready was she? Her mouth felt as dry as dust, and every so often fear would clutch at her insides until her nerves coiled themselves into an aching knot of tension at the prospect of what lay ahead of her.

  David Lloyd glanced quickly over his shoulder as if to make sure they were alone, then he stepped farther into the room. 'This is most probably the only moment we will have alone together, and I have so much to say to you.'

  'Dad, I—'

  'No, no, I must say it,' he interrupted, gripping her cold hands tightly. 'I want you to know that I hate myself for doing this to you. I appreciate the fact that you are marrying Steiner to save my skin, but I shall never forgive myself for allowing you to become involved in this.'

  Cara desperately wanted to reassure him, but she knew that if she opened her mouth to speak her tight control would snap, and the possibility of bursting into tears could not be overlooked.

  'It's time to go, David,' her mother's voice drifted towards them from the upstairs landing, and the moment passed.

  'Coming, Lilian,' her father replied, raising his voice and, linking Cara's arm with his, they walked out of her room.

  It was a warm autumn afternoon in the north-eastern Transvaal, but Cara shivered intermittently during the short trip into town. She felt like a condemned prisoner being driven to the gallows and, without thinking, she raised a trembling hand to smooth away that awful tightness about her throat.

  The chestnut trees had long since prepared themselves for the coming winter, and their leaves lay scattered like a golden carpet across the streets and pavements of Murrayville. The town had expanded since the first steel plant had been erected. Buildings had risen in the shopping areas almost like mushrooms overnight, and more than two thousand houses had been erected on the south side of the town to accommodate the workers in the factory. The once clear sky was now becoming polluted with smoke spiralling from the tall chimneys, and the older inhabitants were beginning to balk at the word progress. The easy pace of life had been accelerated to the point where only the young could cope, and hard-bitten people like Vince Steiner were elected on to committees which dealt solely with modernisation and growth.

  Vince Steiner. His name alone struck a chill in Cara's heart. He was a deadly opponent in business, she had been told, and a force to be reckoned with in the various fields of industry where he had a say. He was known for his ruthlessness in getting what he wanted, and he was seldom crossed because of the power he wielded. This was the man she was going to marry, and the mere thought of it was enough to want to make her shrivel up and die.

  No one spoke in the car. It was indeed like going to a funeral and, when her father turned into the parking area beside the magistrate's offices, Cara found that she was clenching her hands so tightly in her lap that they actually ached.

  Vince appeared as if from nowhere when Cara stepped out of the car into the warm sunshine, and his sister, Harriet, stood beside him. Harriet was tall and slender with short fair hair curling about her face. She was an attractive, strong-featured woman, and the clasp of her hands was firm when Vince introduced them.

  Cara tried to relax, but she could not. Vince seemed to loom larger than life beside her, and his big hand beneath her elbow sent a charge of feeling through her which she was too terrified to analyse. His dark grey suit and white shirt was a perfect foil for his tanned complexion and sun-bleached hair, and his ruggedly handsome features frightened rather than pleased her.

  'Smile, Cara,' he warned in his deep-throated voice as he drew her a little aside. 'Or am I to believe you want your mother to know that you're marrying me under protest?'

  Cara forced a frozen smile to her lips and shivered despite the warmth of the afternoon sun as they walked towards the old stone building. Her personal effects were already in his possession, they had been transferred to his home early that morning, and all that remained now was for Vince Steiner to take legal possession of her. She wished that she could start running and never stop, but they were entering the building with her parents, and his sister was following close behind.

  Everything had its limits, even fear and tension, Cara discovered when they all crowded into the small, impersonal little room and stood facing the lanky, bearded magistrate. Something died inside her and a blessed numbness took over that carried her through the brief ceremony. She was conscious of the sickly smell of furniture and floor polish while the magistrate's unemotional voice rattled off the necessary words. It was as if she stood outside herself while she voiced the required words at the given moment. A plain gold wedding band was slipped on to her finger. It felt cold and unfamiliar, and from the recesses of her mind a cry exploded. Too late!

  The wedding ceremony was over, and there was no going back. A strong hand tipped her face up, and cool, very male lips were pressed against hers. She was neither repelled, nor excited by their brief contact. She was, in fact, too numb to feel anything, but she forced herself to smile as she accepted Harriet's cool congratulations, and embraced her tearful mother. She embraced her father as well, and for one brief moment she glimpsed the naked suffering in his eyes before Vince took her firmly by the arm and led the party out of the building. She had signed her name in that impersonal little office for the last time. She was now Mrs Vince Steiner, and there was nothing to rejoice about in this knowledge.

  The drive out to his house was accomplished in silence, and Cara was only vaguely aware of the sun-drenched terraced garden surrounding the whitewashed house with its colourful awnings at the windows. When they were all assembled in the living-room with its modern furnishings, Cara felt the numbness leave her, and the tension returned with a vengeance that knotted her insides and clutched at her throat as if to strangle her. White-coated black servants carried in an assortment of snacks, and a champagne cork popped prior to the glasses being filled.

  Everyone seemed to be talking at the same time; everyone except Cara, that is. She smiled because she knew she had to, but she left it to her father and Vince to carry out the
farce verbally. Harriet's pale grey eyes met Cara's a few times, and there was something in their depths that disturbed Cara. How much did Harriet know? Was she aware of the situation, or was she simply curious about her brother's sudden decision to marry a woman she had had no prior knowledge of?

  'I'd like to propose a toast,' Vince announced when the late afternoon sun began its swift descent in the west, and a heavy arm was draped about Cara's slim waist to press her against his hard side. The warmth of his hand was burning her through the silk of her dress against her hip, and Cara felt a strange tremor racing through her. Her heart leapt into her throat with a force that made her catch her breath, and she raised her eyes to meet his compelling glance for the first time that day. Her parents and Harriet had ceased their conversation, and during that brief silence Cara felt as if she had become suspended over a deep and dangerous ravine. Vince's eyes held hers captive, the gleam of triumph in their depths changing swiftly to a warning when she made to draw away, and his strongly chiselled mouth curved in a derisive smile as he raised his glass. 'To my beautiful bride.'

  The sides of their glasses touched before they raised them to their lips, and when Cara sipped at the sparkling champagne it tasted like vinegar in her mouth.

  'I think I'm going to cry,' Lilian wailed, creating a welcome diversion which allowed Cara to draw away from Vince.

  'No, you're not,' David Lloyd stated firmly, glancing at his watch. 'Drink your champagne, Lilian, and let's go home.'

  Lilian dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief and controlled herself with an obvious effort, but the tears were brimming in her eyes once again when Cara accompanied them out to her father's car a few minutes later.

  'Take care of yourself, Cara,' Lilian whispered as they embraced each other.

  'I'm not leaving the country, Mother,' Cara reminded her, forcing a laugh along her throat to her lips. 'I'll still be working at the library, and I'll see you often.'

  David Lloyd did not say anything, but his eyes spoke volumes when they met Cara's. He kissed her lightly on the cheek and, with one last long look, he got into the BMW beside her mother, and drove away.

  The last rays of the sun were warm against Cara's face and arms, but she stood there shivering. She had to go back into the house, and she dreaded it. It was of some consolation to know that Harriet was still there, and this gave Cara the necessary courage to go inside and face them.

  The atmosphere seemed vaguely strained when she entered the living-room, and her own tension spiralled to an alarming pitch.

  'I think I'd like to freshen up a little,' Cara announced, desperate suddenly to get away from this man she had married, and desperate also to get away from his sister who was eyeing her now with something between hatred and pity.

  'Turn to the right upstairs,' Vince directed Cara almost absently. 'Our bedroom is on the left, and you'll find the servants have unpacked your things.'

  Our bedroom. The words shot a chill of alarm through Cara, but she thrust it from her, and shut her mind to everything except her immediate desire to be on her own.

  'Thank you,' she murmured abruptly, walking quickly out of the living-room, and across the hall.

  She ascended the carpeted stairs and turned to the left when she reached the upper floor. Confronted by three doors, she opened the first curiously and found herself in a small bedroom. There was a single bed against the one wall, and a chest of drawers against the other, she discovered. The curtains were drawn across the window, but even in the dimness she could see that the sparsely furnished room was enhanced only by a built-in cupboard with slatted doors. She opened the second door and found herself in a white-tiled bathroom with a green towel draped over the bath rail. The personal toiletries on the shelf belonged to Vince, and she stepped swiftly back into the passage. The third door led into a large bedroom with a window facing the terraced front garden. The curtains at the window were a deep blue to match the quilted bedspread on the enormous double bed with its carved wooden headboard, and the wall-to-wall carpeting was a pale aquamarine in contrast. Here also built-in cupboards with slatted wooden doors lined the length of the one wall, and a dressing-table had been built into it.

  Cara pressed a switch on the slab of the built-in dresser, and a tube light lit up the area above the mirror. She stared at herself and she had the curious sensation that she was looking at a stranger. Her facial muscles were so tense that it seemed as if her skin was stretching too tightly across the fine bone structure of her features, and the shadows beneath her eyes were accentuated by the sickly yellow of her complexion.

  She took off her hat, and in the mirror she could see the light flashing on the gold of her wedding ring. She felt sick inside as she turned away from that image and, when she flung her hat across the room on to the bed, she tugged the ring off her finger. She stood with that circle of gold between her trembling fingers and knew the desire to fling it from her as well, but she knew such an action would not solve her problem. Whether she wore Vince Steiner's ring, or not, she was legally his wife. Possession was a better word, she thought cynically. A mere hour ago she had signed away her independence, and by doing so she had given him a legal right to her body.

  Oh, God! She thrust the ring back on to her finger and raised her hands to her throbbing temples. She did not want to think about it, but she could not curb her mind. The mere thought of his hands touching her body made her shudder, and she could only hope that he would give her a little time to adapt to the situation before he claimed her totally.

  Her palms felt damp and, thrusting aside her thoughts, she opened the door leading out of the bedroom, and walked into a bathroom so large one could almost lose oneself in it. She washed her hands in the basin and dried them on the spotlessly white towel. Her vanity case containing her make-up and toiletries had somehow found its way from her father's car into the bathroom, and she hastily powdered her nose and touched up her lipstick. She looked a little better even though she did not feel any better, and a few minutes later she was making her dreaded way down the stairs.

  'I know and I can understand your desire for vengeance, but you're taking things too far, Vince.'

  Harriet's clear, precise voice reached Cara's ears when she was halfway down the last flight of stairs, and the word 'vengeance' made her freeze on the spot.

  'I'll do as I see fit,' Vince's harsh voice replied while Cara was still trying to decide whether she had heard Harriet correctly.

  'You've never taken advice from anyone, and I know you won't take mine, but I can't pretend that I condone your marriage to Cara Lloyd.'

  'She is Cara Steiner now,' he reminded his sister with a bitter, stinging sarcasm that made Cara wince inwardly for some reason. 'By taking David Lloyd's daughter, my dear Harriet, I'm hitting him where it hurts most, and that is exactly what I've been waiting for all these years.'

  Cara's hand tightened in pain and confusion on the wooden balustrade until her knuckles whitened. What was Vince and his sister talking about? What need was there for vengeance when he had already extracted the price for his extension of the agreement between him and her father?

  'Sometimes, Vince, I find you despicable,' Harriet's disapproving voice intruded on Cara's bewildered thoughts. 'You're using her as a pawn in this deadly game of revenge you're playing. The fact that she is innocent, and is probably quite unaware of her father's actions, simply don't count with you. You are going to use her and abuse her before you finally shuttle her back to her father, and in the end you're still going to break David Lloyd for what he did. Doesn't it concern you that you will have ruined her life as well?'

  'One man's actions ruined our father's life as well as mine, and what concerns me is that David Lloyd must pay in full for what he did.'

  Even at a distance the savage anger in his voice made Cara cringe, but she remained where she was, becoming wiser and also increasingly confused with every second that passed.

  'I suffered too, Vince, and don't forget that,' Harriet hit back, '
but I've discovered that taking revenge can never right a wrong. It can only create another wrong which could be a hundred times worse.'

  'Philosophically that may be so, but I will at least have the satisfaction of knowing that Lloyd has suffered as much as we did.'

  'I don't think I know you anymore,' Harriet broke the brief silence which had followed his remark, and there was now a ring of sadness in her voice. 'You've become hard and callous through the years, and that's not like you at all.'

  'Circumstances have made of me what I am, Harriet, and now that I have him where I want him I'm going to carry out the rest of my plans whether you approve or not,' Vince argued harshly. 'He'll pay in full even if it's the last thing I do on this earth.'

  'Well, don't expect me to applaud you in the end,' Harriet retorted with a burst of icy anger that matched her brother's, and the next instant she was marching into the hall and slamming the living-room door behind her.

  Harriet paused in the centre of the hall at the sight of Cara coming down the stairs, and there was a measure of guilt in her glance as she searched Cara's rigidly controlled features.

  'I shan't be joining you for dinner after all,' she announced stiffly when Cara stood facing her.

  'Oh,' Cara murmured, taken aback. 'I'm sorry.'

  And she was sorry. Harriet's presence would have lessened part of the ordeal which still lay ahead of her, but now she would have to see it through on her own.

  Harriet turned to leave, but at the door she paused again and glanced back over her shoulder with a grim expression on her face. 'I want you to know that I don't approve of what my brother has done, and I would have prevented this marriage if I could have done so.'

  Cara stared at her, searching for the right words, but finding none. Harriet most probably hated her as much as Vince, but there had been a hint of humanity in her remark, and a little warmth stole into Cara's body for the first time that day.