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Page 1: Elizabeth Hunter - The Bonds of Matrimony
Page 2: Elizabeth Hunter - The Bonds of Matrimony

A Harlequin

Romance

OTHER

Harlequin Romances

by ELIZABETH HUNTER

654-CHERRY BLOSSOM CLINIC 1071-SPICED WITHCLOVES

1758—THE CRESCENT MOON 1780—THE TOWER OFTHE WINDS 1807—THE TREE OF IDLENESS 1844—THE BEADS OF NEMESIS 1888—THE BONDS OFMATRIMONY

Many of these titles are available at your local bookseller,or through the Harlequin Reader Service.

For a free catalogue listing all available HarlequinRomances, send your name and address to:

HARLEQUIN READER SERVICE,

M.P.O. Box 707, Niagara Falls, N.Y. 14302 Canadianaddress: Stratford, Ontario,

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Canada.

or use order coupon at back of book.

THE BONDS OF MATRIMONYby

ELIZABETH HUNTER

HARLEQUIN BOOKS Toronto

WINNIPEG

Original hard cover edition published in 1975 by Mills& Boon

Limited.

© Elizabeth Hunter 1975

SBN 373-01888-6 Harlequin edition published June 1975

All the characters in this book have no existence outsidethe imagination of the Author, and have no relationwhatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names.They are not even distantly inspired by any individual knownor unknown to the Author, and all the incidents are pureinvention.

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The Harlequin trade mark, consisting of the wordHARLEQUIN and the portrayal of a Harlequin, is registeredin the United States Patent Office and in the CanadaTrade© Marks Office.

Printed in Canada

When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then nodoor is shut.

Rabindranath Tagore: Gitanjali LXIII

(Bengali 1912)

I

CHAPTER ONE

He wasn't at all what she had been expecting.

He was not so tall for one thing, and the sensitive look to hismouth that she had thought she had seen in his photographmight have been there, but she was now much moreconscious of the strength of his face and the tough way inwhich he carried himself, not someone who could be easilybent to her purposes at all.

'Mr. Carmichael?' she inquired. 'You are Mr. Carmichael,aren't you?'

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He turned his head and looked at her. If he had had anymanners at all, she thought, he would have stood up straightand not gone on leaning against the bar. She licked herlips, meeting the self-assured look in his eyes with a feelingof uncertainty.

'Yes, I'm Benedict Carmichael,' he confirmed.

She felt a spurt of anger as she realized that he wasn'tgoing to help her by acknowledging that he knew who shewas, let alone why she had come.

'I'm Hero Kaufman.' There was a lengthy silence while hewaited for her to go on. 'May we go and sit over there?' shesuggested, her confidence somewhat dented by the way hewas casually looking her over.

He straightened up slowly. 'Anything you say, MissKaufman.'

Hero lowered herself into one of the leather chairs in thefurthest corner of the bar of the hotel and prayed thatnobody she knew would come in until this agonizingmoment was over. Mr. Carmichael threw himself into thechair beside her and lit himself a cigarette. He didn't offerher one and she had none of her own, but she would havegiven anything just then to have had one, to blow a smokescreen between them as a defence against those piercingeyes of his. He bent his head a little to flick the match he

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had used into an ashtray and she was surprised to noticethat his hands were badly scarred across the palms andfingers.

'Well?' he said.

She started. 'It's a simple business proposition, Mr.,Carmichael. If you're willing to - to oblige me, you would findit very much worth your while - financially at least. I

- er - I understand that's important to you — '

'You shouldn't believe all you hear, Miss Kaufman,' hedrawled.

She coloured. 'But why else should you be willing-?'

'Who said I was?'

This was worse than anything she had imagined. 'I thought—' She shrugged her shoulders. 'You wouldn't be here ifyou weren't interested!' she burst out defiantly. 'I know moreabout you than you think!'

He raised his eyebrows. 'Then you must know how easy itis to rouse my curiosity,' he said with a smile. 'I wanted tosee you for myself. I suppose you know that what you'resuggesting is completely immoral —'

'I don't see that it is!'

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'Then you must be stupid, Miss Kaufman. Still, you're moreattractive than I'd expected. I shouldn't have thought you'dhave any difficulty in finding a husband without having to buyhim, or are you too stupid for that

to have occurred to you?'

Hero stared at him, as much astonished as she was angry.No one had ever thought her stupid before, and theycertainly wouldn't have told her so if they did!

'How dare you?' She frowned at him. Didn't he know howmuch it had cost her to keep her appointment with him?She thought she would have disliked him, whatever he hadbeen like, but he was far more difficult to handle than shehad been led to believe. 'You don't understand,' she added,'I don't want a husband, I want a nationality. Britishnationality!'

'What's wrong with your nationality?' he returned.

'I — I haven't really got one,' she confessed. 'I thought I wasBritish. I thought we were all British, my parents and I, butwe aren't. It didn't matter when they were alive, but theywere killed recently.' She blinked, unwilling to let him seethat thinking about them could still affect her badly. 'Itmatters very much to me to be British. I'm not even Kenyan,you see. I'm nothing! My father was officially German,because his father was a German from Tanganyika. He

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had been there from the time that Tanganyika was aGerman colony - before the First World War. My mother'sparents were Greek. They kept a hotel up countrysomewhere.'

'Where are they now?'

'They're dead. They died before I was born. I think theywere killed by the Mau-Mau, but I don't really know muchabout them. My mother didn't talk about them muchbecause they hadn't wanted her to marry Father. Theyquarreled about it and she never saw much of them afterthat. Father was a lot older than Mother, you see.'

Mr. Carmichael drew thoughtfully on his cigarette.

'What about his parents?' he asked.

'My grandfather tried to join the Army in the war. They tookhim at first, but then they discovered that he was technicallya German. They were interning everyone who had enemyconnections at that time, but my grandfather thought that heand my grandmother would go mad if they were shut up foryears, so he did what a lot of Germans did at that time andsimply disappeared into the bush. After the war most ofthem came back and took up whatever they'd been doingbefore, but my grandparents never came back. My fathermade inquiries about them, but they were never found. Intime they were presumed to be dead and my father

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inherited their farm. He sold it and moved to Kenya whenhe married my mother.'

'And you're all alone?'

'Yes.' She had already decided she wouldn't marry himanyway, even if he were agreeable. She didn't like him. Shedidn't like anything about him.

'But why leave Kenya?' he probed. Would he never bethrough asking questions? Her motives had nothing to dowith him! Either he was prepared to marry her and take herto England, giving her the right to live there before hedivorced her, or he was not!

'I can't manage the farm by myself,' she said abruptly.

'Why not? I thought women could do anything

these days?'

Hero threaded her fingers together, picking at her nails. Aflake of varnish came loose and she looked down at it withannoyance. She liked her hands to look nice, even though ithad been a constant battle lately when she had been doingmuch of the milking and feeding herself.

'The farm is miles from anywhere. I was waiting for theGovernment to take it over. The compensation would havebeen enough to get me to England and I thought the price

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of the animals would have set me up in something there.Now they're the price I'm willing to pay to be British.'

Mr. Carmichael lit himself another cigarette. 'Impractical aswell as immoral,' he remarked. 'What do you intend to donow when you get to England?'

She dug around in her handbag, spreading a creditablenumber of certificates on the arm of his chair, her handsquivering with indignation.

'You see, I'm not completely stupid! I shall work for my livinglike everyone else.'

He picked up her last school report and read it with interest.'All right,' he said, 'so you did well at school — '

'Not only at school. I did well at the Agricultural Centre too.'

'So you did. But as you can't afford to buy a farm in Englandand most people there don't employ land-girls, knowingabout tropical diseases in cattle isn't going to be of muchuse to you.'

Hero glowered at him, quite overcome by her dislike forhim. 'Farm accountancy is my specialty, as you would haveseen if you'd taken the trouble to

look.' She pressed a further certificate into his hands. 'I'm afully qualified accountant. Or don't they use accountants in

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England either?'

'Probably,' he agreed. 'I use one myself sometimes when Ithink I'm paying too much tax.'

Hero took a deep breath. 'If you marry me I'll do youraccounts free,' she offered, 'even after we're free of oneanother!'

'Hmm,' he said. 'I still don't see why you can't find yourself ahusband some other way.' He sat forward in his chair andput a hand under her chin, turning her face this way andthat. 'You're not bad looking at all. Rather a good mixture -Greek fire and Germanic ice!'

'Which is more than I can say for you!' she flashed at him,tossing her head to be free of his restricting touch.

'You seem keen enough to marry me,' he reminded her.

'Because I want to be British. I wouldn't marry youotherwise, not for a million pounds !'

'I see,' he said. 'Well, you're more likely to suffer if youdislike me than I am. True, it might grow rather wearing tohave you round the house for long if you can't bring yourselfto be pleasant to me — '

'I'm sorry,' she broke in. 'I -I didn't mean anything personalabout not wanting to marry you. I don't want to marry

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anyone! If you do marry me, of course I should be pleasantto you. It wouldn't be for very long anyway, so it would beworth it. I mean, you needn't see me again after you'vetaken me to England. I wouldn't expect anything more fromyou!'

He stubbed out his cigarette without answering, calling tothe African steward with a flick of his fingers.

'What will you have to drink?' he asked her.

'I don't drink,' she said.

'One gin and tonic and one tomato juice,' Mr. Carmichaeltold the waiting African. He felt in his pocket for a few coinsand balanced them, one on top of the other, on the arm ofhis chair, while he waited impatiently for the drinks to bebrought to him.

Hero watched him, feeling more and more inadequate asshe did so. 'Mr. Carmichael, what brought you to Kenya?'

His eyes glinted under his thick eyelashes. 'I liked thesound of it.' He tossed the coins up in the air and caughtthem again with all the neatness of a professional juggler.'How soon would you expect to go to England?'

'How soon?' she repeated. 'What do you mean?'

'Immediately? In a year? In two years' time?'

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'I'd like to go soon,' she answered. 'But I don't have to goimmediately. I'd be prepared to fit in with yourarrangements. It would - look better, don't you think, if we'dbeen married for a few months? And I don't think we canget a divorce immediately I set foot in England. I meant toget it all clear before I came to see you, but I don't knowwho to ask. It was bad enough having to find someone who— Well, you know, most men seem to be married or havesomeone in mind, and you seemed the only one whoneeded — ' She broke off, chewing her lip between herteeth. He wouldn't like to be reminded that he was so shortof money that if he were to get back to England himself hewould need someone to pay his fare. Men, she knew, didn'tlike to be known to be unsuccessful and that BenedictCarmichael most certainly was! Her friend Betsy wouldnever have pointed him out to Hero if he hadn't been thenext best thing to a Destitute British Subject. Hero felt asudden irrepressible giggle inside her. Her mother, sheremembered, had once been on a committee that haddealt with such people, but that had been before Kenya hadbecome an independent country. All the same, it was hardto see that her mother would have liked Mr. Carmichael anymore than she did.

The African brought the drinks and the coins exchangedhands. Hero checked her thoughts with a start. It wasn'tcheap buying drinks in Nairobi. Perhaps she should haveoffered to pay for them herself? But then, when she came to

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think of it, there was nothing cheap about the way BenedictCarmichael dressed either. His trousers were plainlytailored to his own measurements and his shirt wasundoubtedly expensive. Indeed, she suspected that it was aone-off job, designed and created for its owner, which wasjust as well, for not many people would have dared to haveworn it.

'Mr. Carmichael, why were you prepared to meet me?' sheasked in chilly tones.

'Oh, I don't know. Betsy likes you, and she doesn't like manyof her own sex, and that made me curious. Also, I wouldn'tmind a bit of land out here and it isn't easy to come by withAfricanization going on. Besides, it's one way of acquiringa wife and it's time I married — '

'But you wouldn't be really married !'

He laughed. 'You know what Leonardo da Vinci said aboutmarriage - putting one's hand into a bag of snakes on theoff-chance of drawing out an eel? I thought I'd like apractice run with someone whose poison was well and trulydrawn by circumstances before I tried the real thing.'

Hero swallowed. Really, he was quite detestable! 'Have yousomeone in mind?'

He smiled, as self-satisfied as anyone Hero had ever

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seen. 'A pretty little snake with a fine pair of fangs that willwant very careful handling — ' 'Does she know?' Herogasped.

'She hasn't a suspicion of it,' he replied. 'I'll let her go onsleeping in the sun, then—!' He brought his hand down andcaught her by the wrist with a speed that set her back in herchair. 'Snakes only bite because they're frightened, youknow. Really very like women!'

Hero found herself looking at his colourful shirt again andshut her eyes, opening them again when she had themsafely fastened on her tomato juice. 'I don't see howmarrying me will help you catch her,' she said with anevenness that belied the pricking sensation round her

wrist where he had grasped her.

'No?'

She shook her head. 'I shouldn't think she'll be at allpleased! Not if she's fond of you!'

'She's not - not yet. I'd say she doesn't like me at all rightnow - any more than you do!'

Hero coloured. 'I hardly know you,' she told him. 'You can'tgo by me, anyway. I'm not the type who falls in love. I shan'tever get married properly. I prefer being by myself.'

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His snort of laughter made her look at him again. The lookhe gave her made her press her own lips together in adisapproving line. 'What's so funny about that?' shedemanded.

'I'll tell you one day when I know you better,' he promisedher. 'Finish your drink, my dear, and I'll take you in to lunch.'

'Oh, but—' she protested. 'There are much better andcheaper places than here. Wouldn't you rather gosomewhere else?'

'I don't think so. We shall have some privacy here and, aswe still have much to discuss, it may as well be here asanywhere else.' He took her by the arm and led her into thedining-room with a firmness of touch that defeated her.Besides, it was seldom that she ever ate out in such grandsurroundings and it would probably be a long time beforeshe did so again.

'I think I should be happier if we went Dutch,' she said at thedoorway to the huge, ornate room where they were to eat. 'Itwould be more businesslike. Or perhaps I should pay for usboth?'

He gave her an easy smile and she had a sudden thoughtthat if she had met him in other circumstances, she mighteven have liked him.

'Hero, if you're going to marry me, I'd advise you not to be

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forever arguing with me.' He seated her at the table andthen went round to his own chair. 'Did your mother arguewith your father?'

Hero raised her eyebrows. 'My mother was Greek,' shereminded him. 'The Greeks are very passionate and proud,but a Greek woman would never tell her husband what todo. She gets her own way by other means if she has to, butshe always submits to his dictates on the surface!'

'Good, then let's hope you can be as Greek as your name!'

'Kaufman? There's nothing Greek about that.' 'But it won'tbe Kaufman,' he reminded her. 'It will be Hero Carmichael.'

'Yes,' she agreed.

She felt him looking at her and she blushed. 'I'm noLeander, my dear,' he said with a sudden gentleness, 'but Ithink I'll make you a better husband, even if a temporaryone, than that swimming lunatic.'

'You forget,' she said, 'I haven't any romantic dreams. I can'thelp my name. It was my mother's idea. If you did swimacross the Hellespont, I'd probably think you silly and not beat all complimented. I never can admire that sort of thing.The only heroic thing about me is my name. I'm quiteordinary, and I prefer other people to be ordinary too!'

'I'll try to remember,' he said. 'Not that I believe you're as

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prosaic as you pretend.'

Hero laid her napkin neatly over her knee, determined toenjoy her lunch despite her companion. 'I'm hungry,' sheannounced. 'I'm going to eat an enormous meal!'

'Greek fire,' he observed, more to himself than to her.'Betsy is shrewder than I thought. I think she might very wellbe right about you. It might be very rewarding to find out.'

'You mean you'll marry me?' she said bluntly.

'On certain terms,' he nodded. 'I'm not ready to go back toEngland quite yet, but I'll give you British nationality and I'lltake you to England in the end, when I've finished mybusiness out here. Will that suit you?'

Hero took a deep breath of relief. 'Oh yes!' she exclaimed.'As long as I'm British I'll put up with anything!'

He smiled slowly. Really, she thought, he wasn't too bad atall. 'That's quite an offer,' he observed, handing her thelarge, engraved menu.

She looked quickly up at him, but the expression on hisface was deadpan.

Hero Kaufman had been alone for more than a year now.She had almost pushed into the background the momentwhen she had been told that her parents' light aircraft had

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come down somewhere over the Tanzanian border. Shehad not been at home at the time, but was in Nairobicompleting her final exams in accountancy. It had beenmore than a week before the plane had been found, a weekthat she sometimes lived again in her dreams, but whichshe had come to terms with in her waking life, more or less.Everyone had been very kind, that went without saying, butit had soon become obvious that no young girl on her ownwas going to be able to run a mixed farm, miles fromanywhere, with only the rather inadequate help of a half-trained African foreman.

Nevertheless, she was glad that her parents had diedtogether. They had been a complete unit on their own,interested, really interested, only in each other. Naturallythey had both loved their daughter, but there had beenmoments when she had felt that they would really ratherhave been on their own. Because of that she had been gladwhen they had sent her away to board at the LorettaConvent and, later on, she had been more glad still to staywith her friend Betsy's family in Nairobi while she wasgaining the qualifications her father had chosen for her towork at with an eye to her future usefulness on the farm.

It had taken Hero only a few months to decide that the bestthing she could do was to sell up and leave Kenya, but inthis she had been baulked at every turn.

It had come as a shock to her to find that she was not a

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British citizen. She felt British. She had studied Englishhistory and English geography at school. She spoke onlyEnglish and a rather garbled kitchen Swahili that hadserved her well enough on the farm. Her second languageat school had been French, not the German of her father'sfamily. She looked Greek, or so her mother had never tiredof telling her, with her short, curly black hair and olive skin,but what did she know of Greece? That the capital city wasAthens, and that Sparta lay in ruins, though she couldn'thave pointed to its position on the map with any accuracy.

She had gone to the British High Commission and hadapplied to go to Britain, but their rejection had been firmand absolute. Didn't she know that there were plenty ofbona fide British citizens waiting to go to Britain; they hadbeen waiting for years, their resources diminishing daily asthey did so; if they couldn't get there, what made her thinkthat Britain would welcome an alien, one who had no claimat all on the country, before her own citizens?

There had been no answer to that. Hero had decided thatshe had better stay where she was, though she couldn'thelp feeling that sooner or later the Kenya government wasgoing to inquire into her status in that country. It seemedshe was nothing and had nowhere to go where she wouldfeel at home.

Betsy, a Kenya national like her parents, had shared Hero'sindignation to the full. She was a volatile, pretty girl, who

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had done quite as badly at school as Hero had done well.She didn't generally make friends with other girls. It was notthat she disliked them, but she certainly didn't like themeither. Besides, she had very little time left over from herfierce social life, spending her time getting to know any andevery man in the district.

'You'll have to marry an Englishman,' Betsy had said oneday.

Hero had made a grimace of distaste. 'I don't want to marry- at least not for ages.'

'Personally,' Betsy had drawled, I can't wait! The oftener thebetter!' She had flicked her long, elegant fingers in Hero'sface to make sure she was listening. 'The fact is, my dear,you haven't any choice. Marry someone and let him havethe worry of getting you into England. Once there, you candivorce him on some pretext, and there you are !'

'He'd have to know!' Hero had objected. 'I couldn't pretendto be — fond of a man just like that.'

Betsy had regarded her with tolerant amusement. 'Whynot?'

'It would be immoral!'

'Oh, Hero, really! If you gave him a good time and madehim feel good while you were his wife — ' 'I couldn't! I

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wouldn't know how to begin!'

Betsy had sighed. 'No,' she had agreed finally, 'you wouldmake a mull of it and blurt out the truth just when it would dothe most damage. What a pity our positions aren'treversed. Now I should actually enjoy the whole affair!'

'Would you?' Hero wasn't so sure. Betsy liked to be thoughtdashing, but it was mostly talk in Hero's opinion. 'Anyway,as an idea it's out.'

'Don't you believe it!' Betsy had smiled. 'I'll find you a man,Hero, my sweet, a solid English-born Englishman whomyou'll be able to wrap round your little finger. What's more,I'll tell him why you have to marry him myself and then you'llbe able to do something more than blush and stammer likean idiot when you meet him. If you want to be English, thenEnglish you will be!'

Hero had laughed. She hadn't expected to hear any moreabout it, but Betsy was nothing if not determined, and shehad found a man.

'He's fantastic!' she had declared happily. 'But fantastic!Best of all, he's willing.' And that was that. Now

Hero had met 'the man' for herself and she wasn't at all surethat she could ever like him, and she would have describedhim as frightening rather than fantastic. She feltuncomfortable at the thought of having to spend much time

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in his company, but perhaps she wouldn't have to.

She put the menu away from her, her appetite destroyed.

'I don't think I can many you after all,' she said in a small,husky voice. 'I'm very sorry to have put you to so muchtrouble - but I can't !'

'I see,' he said, as grave as she. 'Don't you think you maybe hungry? When you've had something to eat you'll feelmuch more courageous — you'll even be able to take me inyour stride!'

'But that's the trouble!' she confessed in a rush. 'Even in anarranged marriage like this one, I'd have to see quite a lotof you, wouldn't I? But you see, I've got used to being bymyself..I don't fit in with other people very well.'

He looked at her from beneath his eyelashes and shewondered what he was thinking. The colour rose in hercheeks and she picked up the menu again, glad to hidebehind it until she had recovered her savoir faire.

'I think it's too late for you to withdraw,' Mr. Carmichael said,his voice as inflexible as steel, and yet gentle. 'I want yourfarm, Miss Kaufman. I've always wanted to own land outhere. It's important to me — ' 'Why?' she asked baldly.

He shrugged his shoulders. 'I have my reasons, isn't thatenough? They are important enough for me to be willing to

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take you into the bargain. I consider them to be moreimportant than either of us and our squalid motives forgetting married to one another. You want to be British andI'll make you British. That will have to be enough for you !'

Hero gave him a look, half dogged and half scared. 'I think Ihave a right to know what your reasons are. I don't knowanything about you!'

'One of the penalties of being an adventuress,' he told herdryly. 'You have to back your own judgments of people,because they're most unlikely to tell you the truth.'

Wide-eyed, Hero retreated further into her chair. 'I'm not anadventuress,' she whispered.

He raised his brows, saying nothing.

'I'm not!' she declared more loudly. 'How dare you call mesuch a thing?'

'Wouldn't you call someone who marries for profit to herselfan adventuress?'

'I've told you, I've changed my mind!'

He shook his head at her. 'Too late. You're going to marryme, Miss Hero Kaufman, whatever you think of me. It won'tbe half as bad as you think. You may even get to like it.'

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'Never!'

He paid her no heed, turning his attention to the menu andwhat they were going to eat. He ordered for both of them,ignoring her gasp of protest as she slapped her copy of themenu down on the table. She had wanted to choose herown meal, she had wanted to enjoy every mouthful of thisunexpected treat of eating in such a restaurant.

'Does your non-drinking go as far as not taking wine withyour meals?' he asked her.

She had never tasted wine in her life. 'Of course not! I don'tlike the taste of spirits, that's all. If I did, I'd drink you underthe table, I dare say. Adventuresses do, you

know!'

His mouth showed amusement as he ordered a bottle ofsome vintage she had never heard of and sat back, hiseyes never leaving her face. Goaded into further speech,Hero muttered something quite unintelligible and then burstout: 'If anyone's an adventurer, it's you! Does your little petsnake know that?'

He grinned, the confident, masculine look in his eyes verymuch in evidence. 'She'll learn all about me, I expect, beforewe're through, but I don't think she'd much like being calleda snake. Most women don't.'

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'It was you who called her that!' He shook his head.'Leonardo da Vinci.' His smile widened. 'As a matter offact,' he went on, grinning easily, 'I'm beginning to think I'mlucky enough to have drawn the eel from the bag — '

'Eels have a wicked bite!' she informed him with asatisfaction that she couldn't adequately explain to herself.

'Conger eels. This one is a small, friendly eel who's ratherfrightened to find herself loose in the ocean. I don't think I'llhave any trouble with her,' he concluded.

CHAPTER TWO

'ISN'T he simply super?'

Hero had her own opinion about that, but Betsy'senthusiasm was hard to withstand. 'He gave me a verygood lunch,' she said. 'We had wine too!'

Betsy laughed. 'How did he talk you into that?'

Hero wished she had kept quiet about the wine. She hadn'tbeen able to decide whether she had liked it very much, orwhether she had just thought she had because BenedictCarmichael had been so sure that she wouldn't. It had givenher a warm feeling and she had almost become reconciledto the man sitting opposite her.

'Well, tell me!' Betsy prompted her. 'You know you've never

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touched a drop of intoxicating liquor in your life —'

'I've never had the opportunity before,' said Hero.

'But don't tell him. He thinks I'm a connoisseur.' 'He thinkswhat? Don't be ridiculous!'

'I told him my mother had taught me all about it,' Hero wenton. 'I told him I preferred retsina because I don't think youcan get it in Kenya. I hope not! I'm not sure what it is, areyou?'

'Greek resinated wine,' Betsy supplied. 'I should think you'repretty safe there. He may even have believed you, yourmother being Greek. But whatever induced you to play thefool like that? He's no fool! I told you that before you went tosee him.'

As Hero hadn't been able to explain to herself why she hadtaken it into her head to pretend to a sophistication that herparents had always positively disapproved of, she couldn'texplain it to Betsy either.

'I didn't like him,' she said at last.

'You don't have to like him!' Betsy protested. 'What does itmatter what he's like? All that matters is that he's yourentrance ticket to England. That's what you want, isn't it?'

'He called me an adventuress!'

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Betsy's eyes shone. 'Did he though? How splendid! I dothink you're lucky, Hero!'

'And immoral,' Hero added. 'He was horrid about it!'

'I love horrid men!' Betsy declared.

'You love any man,' said Hero.

Betsy smiled to herself. 'But it's such fun! Darling, couldn'tyou bring yourself to fall a little bit in love with him? It's quiteeasy when you try. I do it all the time! All you have to do isconcentrate. You have to think about all his good points andignore all the bad ones —'

'He hasn't any good points!'

Betsy frowned at her. 'Don't be difficult. Everybody hassome good points. He's willing to marry you, isn't he?'

Hero bit her lip, almost as nervous now as she had beenwhen she had been sitting opposite Benedict Carmichaelin that enormous dining-room. 'I told him I'd changed mymind —'

'You did what?'

'But Betsy, I had to. You might enjoy such a situation, but Idon't find it so easy. He was right, you see. It is an immoralthing to do. One shouldn't use marriage as a convenience.

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thing to do. One shouldn't use marriage as a convenience.But when I told him that I couldn't do it, he told me I had to,that it was too late for me to withdraw. He says he's goingto make me marry him!'

'But that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard!' Betsyexclaimed.

'There's nothing romantic about it!' Hero said

sharply. 'I think he's mad! He's in love with somebody elsetoo - he told me so. Not that he seems to care what shethinks about him. He thinks all women are snakes andshould have their fangs drawn

- by him, for preference, I should think - or some suchnonsense. Only he thinks she might be an eel. He said

she's rather a darling. I feel terribly sorry for her if she

• /

is -'

'Hero, what are you talking about?' Betsy interrupted her.

'It was something Leonardo da Vinci said about matrimonybeing like putting your hand into a bag of snakes andhoping to draw out an eel. He said he was going to practiseon me!'

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'I told you he was frightfully clever,' Betsy said. 'If he wasquoting from Leonardo da Vinci, it probably has someclever classical allusion that we don't know anything about. Inever understand things like that.'

But Hero did. She didn't much like snakes, though theydidn't send shivers up her spine like spiders did, but shewas well able to recognize an implied insult to her wholesex even when it was cleverly wrapped up in a quotationfrom Leonardo da Vinci.

'He was being unpleasant,' she explained. 'He isunpleasant! Really, Betsy, he's the most awful man I've evermet!'

Betsy began to look concerned. Hero recognized the signsof the start of a stubborn rearguard action in her doggedexpression. Betsy hated to have any plan she had madechanged by anyone other than herself.

'You haven't thought enough about the advantages ofmarrying him,' she told Hero, her voice filled with a newdetermination. 'If you dislike him, so much the better! It

might be very awkward if you were to get fond of him andthen have to go through with getting a divorce from him. Ifyou find him so awful you won't mind at all! You'll find itmuch less wearing emotionally. He's bound to have thegood manners to let you divorce him —'

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'An irretrievable breakdown of marriage doesn't put theblame on anyone,' Hero said. 'Besides, one couldn'tdescribe him as well mannered!'

Betsy's eyes flashed. 'Meaning that you're hurt because hedidn't like you,' she began, 'but you don't have to be rudeabout him. He liked me well enough!'

'They all like you.'

Betsy laughed easily. 'Oh, Hero, you're not trying to like him.If he's as awful as you say he is, you'll have to concentrateeven harder on liking him, and more important still, gettinghim to like you. That's half the battle, I always think. It's hardto dislike even the nastiest of men if he thinks you'reabsolutely marvellous! Yes, you'd better think about howyou can make him fall in love with you. That will give yousomething to do to take your mind off those snakes he talksabout.'

'But I don't want him to be in love with me !'

Betsy rolled her eyes up heavenwards. 'Don't be difficult,darling! Of course you do! It will be much more comfortablefor you if you can get the upper hand straight away. No, we'llhave to think of a plan as to how you can bowl him over withyour wit and beauty, and then he won't be any trouble at all!'Hero's mind boggled at the thought of her doing any suchthing. 'I'd have a job!' she said dryly. 'No, I shall write him a

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polite note thanking him for being willing to marry me, butthat I'm going away and I no longer need his help.'

'I think you look lovely sometimes!' Betsy declared.'Perhaps it would be best if you delivered the note,' Herowent on in the same wry tones. 'I'm sure you'll be able tomake him forget all about me if you smile at him!'

'Yes, I expect I could,' Betsy retorted, annoyed. 'But thatwon't make him forget about your farm. Not even thedrought could do that!'

'Well, I'm not going to marry him for that!' Hero said with aviolence that was quite foreign to her usual calm nature. 'Infact I'm not going to marry him at all!'

Hero walked down the street with a buoyant feeling ofrelease. The many-coloured bougainvillea pleased her eyeand she noticed with added pleasure that the jacarandatrees were just coming into flower. If she went to England,she would have to give up all such familiar sights. She hadnever been to England and she very possibly wouldn't like itas a place to live. Now that she came to think about it shehad heard such stories of the difficulties of life there thatshe was glad to be staying in the country of her birth.

As she came closer into the centre of the city thepavements filled up with people, half of them rushing towherever it was they had to go, and the other half standing,

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staring into space, with nowhere to go. No matter what thegovernment did, more and more people poured in from thevillages to look for work in Nairobi, imagining they wouldfind an easier and a better life there. Some did, but many ofthe young boys were unable to find work and even whenthey succeeded in getting a job sometimes foundthemselves regretting the fact that they had exchanged thesimple life of their home villages for the barely adequateliving which they managed to earn in the bustle of the bigcity.

Hero reflected on this as she made her way along KenyattaAvenue towards the little bookshop nearby. Farm life hadnever left her much time for hobbies and distractions, butshe had always been fond of reading and the boys who ranthe bookshop had found her a good customer in the past,when she had visited them regularly to choose a selectionof books with which to pass her few spare hours. The stockcould hardly be called up-to-date and still contained manyvolumes on farming lore which had not been disturbed formany years and were never likely to attract a customer. Butthere were still many good things amongst them and,besides, Hero liked to browse whenever the opportunity

came her way.

She was greeted with broad smiles of welcome as sheentered the small shop and, after the usual inquiries aboutthe state of her health, the boys offered her a cup of tea - a

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mark of favour bestowed upon only a few customers. Heroaccepted gratefully and, cup and saucer in hand, shewandered to the far corner of the shop to investigate somepiles of books in the hope of finding some reading whichwould take her mind off her current problems.

She was completely absorbed and the sound made by theopening of the shop door to admit another customer failedto register with her until she heard one of the Africanassistants greet that customer loudly.

'Your book has come in, Mr. Carmichael. Shall I wrap it foryou?'

Hero froze. He must not see her! She lowered her headand crept further into the shadows.

'No, I'll take it as it is.' Hero turned a fraction of an inch sothat she could watch him pay for the book. After that hewould go out - he had to go out! He did nothing of the sort.He accepted his change with a slight smile that grewbroader as he looked in her direction.

'Why, Hero, how lucky to find you in here!' he exclaimed asif it were the most natural thing in the world. 'Now I knowwhy you're always late when I arrange to meet you in thispart of the town.' He turned back to the counter assistantwho had just served him. 'Miss Kaufman and I are going tobe married —'

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Hero started, spilling her tea in the saucer. She breathed.

The look he gave her was kindly, almost pitying. 'Didn'tBetsy tell you I was expecting you for tea? Never mind, youcan come along now.' He winked at the assembled staff ofthe bookshop. 'We have to name the day,' he explained tothem. 'I don't want to wait any longer than I have to.'

The Africans grinned. 'No, sir.'

'Ready, Hero?' he went on coolly.

Hero faced him. 'Didn't you get my letter? Betsy— If yousaw Betsy, you must have got it.' He looked amused. 'Shedid say something about your having written to me somekind of a love letter, but, as I told her, anything you have tosay to me you can say to my face. I tore it up there and thenand gave her back the pieces. It couldn't have been veryimportant when we only settled everything at lunchtimeyesterday. What did it say?' He grinned easily. 'Or shall I tellyou? I'll bet it was a nice, ladylike thank-you letter for givingyou lunch yesterday. Well, am I right?'

Aware of the interested eyes all round her, Hero nodded.What else could she do? She could hardly give him hisconge in the full public eye. In fact she didn't think she coulddo it at all if she had to look him in the eye at the sametime. Whatever had made him tear up her letter? Was itpossible that he had known? But that wasn't possible. Only

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Betsy had known what was in the note, and Betsy wouldnever have betrayed her at such a traumatic point in heraffairs. Hero heaved a great sigh of relief.

'I haven't seen Betsy this afternoon, so she couldn't havetold me about your expecting me to tea,' she said aloud.

She pulled out a large, heavy textbook, turning it over

in her hands, not bothering to pretend to look at it.

'You going to take that, Miss Kaufman?' one of the Africansasked her, splitting his sides with laughter.

Hero looked at him with surprise. 'I don't think so,' she said.She made no protest when Mr. Carmichael took the bookaway from her and restored it to its position on the shelf.

'You don't want that!' he said, very sure of himself. 'You'dnever plough through it! If you want something to read,choose yourself a few paperbacks and, if you promise toagree to an early wedding, I'll pay for them.'

'I don't think I want anything,' Hero muttered.

'Meaning you're not going to play?'

'I don't like being hurried when I choose the books I want toread. It takes me ages to make up my mind.' She cast hima surreptitious look to see how he was reacting to this

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confession. 'I don't want to keep you waiting.'

'Then let's go and I'll feed you instead,' he said.

'You don't have to,' she said. 'I can go ages between meals- like a camel. If you'd rather walk—'

'I don't get offered cups of tea in shops!' The old-fashionedlook that accompanied the remark made her laugh.

'I don't usually either,' she confided, 'but they're always niceto me in here.'

'You must be a good customer.'

'I suppose so,' she acknowledged. 'There's not all that muchto do on the farm except read, and ride, and that sort ofthing.'

He took her arm, opening the door for her, and bowing witha grin to the intrigued assistants in the shop. Hero tried tostep away from him once they were safely out on thepavement, but he tightened his grasp, smiling at her with alook of mischief in his eyes.

'You won't find it easy to get away from me now, MissKaufman.'

She thought that she had already discovered that. She wasconscious of his touch on her arm.

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'Where are we going?' she asked.

'Where would you like to go? The New Stanley's Thom Treecafe?'

She nodded. What did it matter after all? She knew nowthat she would never raise her courage sufficiently to makeit clear to him that she was not going to marry him,whatever the advantages to herself. When he had torn upher letter, he had tom up her one route of escape. She justcouldn't look him in the face and tell him. He would laugh ather for a simpleton and dismiss her objections as foolishnonsense and she would be in exactly the same position asshe was now.

The Thom Tree was a pavement cafe, but happily they wereable to find a table in the shade and Hero was so glad tobe free of his firm grasp on her arm that she sat down witha positive sense of relief, allowing her eyes to stray roundthe other customers in case there was anyone else therewhom she knew.

'Oh, look!' she said with a great deal of nervous excitement.'There's Bob Andrews. You don't mind if I have a word withhim, do you?'

'Friend of yours?' Mr. Carmichael drawled.

'Sort of,' she admitted. 'Ah, he's coming over here.' She

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bounced up and down in her seat to attract the young man'sattention. She liked Bob Andrews and she knew that heliked her too. At the moment, like everyone else she couldthink of, he was more than half in love with Betsy and hehad found Hero a noble ally in the cause. She didn't mind inthe least being used as a stalking horse for his realobjective and they had had a lot of fun together, plottingBetsy's conquest at his hands. He was the one personwhom Hero allowed to kiss her, knowing that he meantnothing by it, and when he greeted her now, planting asmacking kiss on her lips, she made no objection at all, butmerely hoped that Mr. Carmichael had noticed.

'Bob, this is Mr. Carmichael. Mr. Carmichael, BobAndrews,' she introduced them, with a-sidelong glance atthe man she was to marry, her dark eyes darker still withtriumph.

Mr. Carmichael rose slowly to his feet. He was not so tall asBob and not so obviously handsome but, somehow, hemade all such considerations seem remarkablyunimportant. Hero tried to persuade herself that he lookedinsignificant, but he didn't. On the contrary, he had quietlydominated the whole situation with a brief smile and a firmhandshake.

'It's Benedict Carmichael. I prefer Benedict to Ben, but sofar, I haven't persuaded Hero to use either name — '

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Bob Andrews was completely at home. 'She's naturallyshy!' he teased Hero. 'Her mother was always telling herabout the dreadful things that befall forward girls! Like — 'he screwed up his face into a thoughtful expression - 'likegetting involved with men she knows nothing about!Forward girls can expect nothing but the worst—' Hebecame aware of Hero's urgent signals to shut up andstared at her scarlet face. 'What's the matter?' he askedher.

'Nothing!' she disclaimed.

Benedict Carmichael gave her an amused look.'Something awful has befallen her,' he announced. 'She'sengaged herself to marry me as soon as we can arrange it.Perhaps you'd care to come along for the ceremony?'

Bob's jaw dropped. 'I don't believe it!' He looked both upsetand embarrassed. 'Does Betsy know ?'

'Betsy introduced us,' Mr. Carmichael answered with asmall smile. 'You don't have to worry about Hero, Bob.She's quite safe in my hands.'

The young man's brow cleared. 'Oh, I'm sure she is!' heprotested. 'Only she's had a few wild ideas lately and I wasafraid you might be one of them. I suppose she's told youabout the farm - must have done! She couldn't go on thereby herself. The truth is that we've all been a bit worried

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about her, but if she's going to get married, we needn'tbother any more. It's better than anything!' He lookedcuriously at Benedict Carmichael. 'I don't suppose you'reBritish, by any chance? Because that would make it quiteperfect for Hero-'

'British to the core!' Mr. Carmichael assured him.

Hero raised her eyebrows at them both, across the table.'It's nice to know that I mean so much to you!' she said toBob. 'You sound positively glad to be rid of me.'

He grinned at her. 'Well, so I am! Betsy was convinced youwere going to do something daft. She says you're as Greekas your mother when it comes to getting the bit betweenyour teeth. Don't you be taken in,' he added to Mr.Carmichael, 'she may look all meek and biddable on thesurface, but she's a deep one for all that! Her parents werethe talk of Kenya. They absolutely adored one another whenjust about nobody else even pretended to have much timefor their respective spouses - Kenya was famous for thatsort of thing, you know - and Betsy says that Hero will bejust the same, devoted and passionate.'

'Bob!'

Mr. Carmichael threw back his head and laughed. 'I think Ican take it!' he murmured.

Hero burned with indignation. 'It isn't like that at all!' she

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blurted out. 'And as for you, Bob, I wish you'd go away!'

'What do you mean, it isn't like that?' the young mandemanded. 'What is it like? Hero, are you up tosomething?'

'Of course not!' she denied. Her eyes flew to Mr.Carmichael, seeking his help. The funny thing was that shewas almost sure that she could rely on him to cover up forher and that when she had to admit that he didn't have to.He could quite easily have explained that she was marryinghim to become a British national and that he thought her anadventuress and didn't either like or admire her, but sheknew he wouldn't do that. And he didn't.

'As you said yourself, Hero is shy,' he drawled, with suchconfidence that Hero could quite easily have believed himherself. 'It's all been rather sudden and she hasn't got usedto the idea yet.' She was conscious of a mocking glint in hiseyes. 'I don't suppose she'll ever kiss easily in public, but inprivate she more than lives up to Betsy's expectations ofher!'

Hero knew that it was no good wishing that the earth wouldswallow her up, but she simply couldn't imagine how shewould ever hold up her head with Benedict Carmichaelagain. She pulled herself together with difficulty. 'I even callhim Benedict in private,' she

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'Do you now?' said Bob. He smiled at her with genuineaffection. 'I'm glad. It's been a rotten year for you and youwere more than due for something nice to happen to you. Iwish you every happiness, my dear.'

Hero made a strangled sound, but Mr. Carmichael wascomparatively unmoved. 'I don't want to push you, old chap,but Hero and I have a lot to talk about. She wants to hurryback to that farm of hers, and I want to go with her to makeup our minds what we're going to do with it, and that meansgetting married as soon as possible.'

Bob nodded agreeably, standing up at once. 'You won't beable to do anything with the farm. It's in the drought area.Didn't Hero tell you? Nothing will grow there now!'

'We haven't had time to talk about anything much yet,' Mr.Carmichael returned, which was nice of him, Heroconsidered, for she was well aware that she haddeliberately kept to herself the state of her inheritance whenshe had offered it as a bribe for him to marry her.

'I suppose not,' said Bob. 'See you both later, I hope.Betsy's invited me round for drinks tomorrow evening

- I'll probably see you there.' He sketched a salute with hishand, pausing by Hero's chair to give her a friendly pat onthe head. 'I'd better not kiss you again with your fiance

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looking on!' he teased her. 'That's one of the pleasuresyou'll have to give up for the delights of matrimony. Good-bye, honey!'

Hero managed a stuttered good-bye in reply. This wasworse than anything she had expected. What was she todo?

'Tell me about the farm, Hero,' Mr. Carmichael's voiceinterrupted her thoughts. 'I gather it isn't quite the dowry Iexpected?'

'No,' she admitted.

'How bad is it?'

She had expected him to be angry, but he wasn't obviouslyso. She eyed him covertly, wondering how she was goingto explain to him about failing rains and ruined soil. Did heknow what it meant when the one rainstorm they had had inthe last three years had washed away most of the topsoilher father had laboured long and hard to protect, exposingthe roots of their precious trees and killing the grass andthe few crops they had been able to grow.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I thought you wouldn't find out untilafterwards. The rains may come this year — ' 'Have youslaughtered all the cattle?'

She shook her head. 'Not yet. My father was experimenting

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with his own breed and I couldn't let them go. I was hoping,when the time came, that it would be someone else'sdecision. I did try to sell them to a farm

further south, but the deal fell through.'

'I suppose you've had the usual troubles with erosion?' hequeried.

She started. He was no fool. 'How do you know about that?'

'Did you imagine that I would accept your offer blind?' heobserved. 'I'm reasonably familiar with everything yourfather tried to do, my dear. I know about the Kaufmanspecials, for instance. They sound an interestingexperiment.'

'Then you knew I was offering you next to nothing by offeringyou the farm?' How much else did he know?

'Yes, I knew,' he agreed. 'I imagine it looks all right onpaper, or you could make it do so, and that was all rightwith me. I'm well able to look after myself, and I soon cameto the conclusion you were asking for everything you get if Itook you up on your offer. I don't think you deserve muchconsideration from me, do you?'

She supposed she deserved that. 'No,' she said. 'But youdon't understand. I hadn't thought about you as a person atall! I told you I couldn't go through with it, but you wouldn't

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pay any attention. I wrote to you — '

'I still want the farm. It will suit my purposes very well. Howsoon can you get yourself ready to marry me?'

She stared at him, a little frightened of his calm. 'As soonas you like,' she managed.

'Next week?'

She nodded. This week, next week, some time, never; whatdid it matter? She would soon be in England and then shewould never have to see him again.

'Thank you for making it sound - ordinary to Bob,' she said,not looking at him. 'I didn't want him to know — '

'Think nothing of it,' he said. 'You'd do the same for me,wouldn't you?'

Well, of course she would! At least she hoped she would -but would she? 'I don't suppose you'd ever want me to,' shesaid. 'You wouldn't want your girl to think you were in lovewith someone else, would you? And it wouldn't arise withanyone else!'

Benedict Carmichael said nothing at all. He ordered tea fortwo and an ice-cream for her, just as though he were takinghis niece out to tea, and when Hero said she didn't wantmilk in her tea and wanted lemon instead, he raised his

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brows and grinned at her, as if he knew exactly what shewas thinking, and he put milk in her tea all the same andhanded it to her as though she hadn't said anything about itat all! And she drank it without another word, hoping that hewould never know she hated lemon tea. But she wouldn'thave put it past him to know everything there was to knowabout her!

'Next week,' he confirmed. 'I'll make all the arrangementsand let you know.'

CHAPTER THREE

They were married early on the Tuesday morning. Hero hadrejected all thought of a church wedding out of hand with afierceness that had surprised nobody as much as herself.She had thought that nothing mattered to her any more, andto find that there were some things that did and, what wasmore, mattered very much to her, was rather shattering. Ithad become more and more impossible to discussanything sensibly with Mr. Carmichael as the week hadprogressed and there were some things she knew she hadto make clear to him before she actually became his wifebecause, afterwards, he might not give her any say in suchthings, and then it would be too late to stand by the idealsshe had held all her life long.

She hadn't chosen her moment for this confrontation verywell. Benedict was in a hurry and she felt a perfect fool.

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Really, the more she thought about it, the more ridiculousshe felt. 'It won't be a real marriage,' she accosted him,meeting him in the doorway of Betsy's parents' house andrealizing that, for once, they were alone. 'I couldn't agree tothat!'

He studied his hands in silence for a long moment, hiseyelashes well displayed beneath the brim of his hat.Looking at him, Hero was overcome by sheer panic at thethought of him wanting a more normal relationship

- but then he wouldn't. Though she wished she could bemore certain of that, for he looked as though he were wellused to having his own way with any woman he chose, andthe fact that he loved some other girl wouldn't help her muchwhen she was alone with him, miles from anywhere.

'Mr. Carmichael, you do understand, don't you?' she said.

'Better than you think.'

She sighed with relief. 'I knew you would! Only I thought itbetter to have it spelt out, if you know what I mean.'

'I should prefer it if you could bring yourself to call meBenedict, though,' he said dryly.

'Yes, of course.'

'You don't dislike it as a name, do you?'

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'Oh no! I like it very much. I've never known a Benedictbefore. It's a very distinguished name!'

He reached out and touched a strand of her short, curlyhair. Oddly, she didn't mind the rather intimate gesture. 'I'venever known a Hero before either,' he said. 'Have you anymore worries about the wedding?'

She made a face at him. 'Only what I'm going to wear!'

He smiled then. 'I rather fancy having my bride wearsomething white and pretty,' he suggested.

'Oh, but—'

'I know, but only we know about that. Won't you wear whitefor me, Hero?'

'If you like,' she agreed abruptly. Then she thought thatsounded rather ungracious because he was trying to benice to her and there was no one to see them at thatmoment. 'I'll try to look nice for you!'

He bowed mockingly over her hand. 'What do you want meto wear? You don't seem to admire my ex's taste in shirts.A suit?'

'Well, yes, to both,' she said. 'Benedict, could you wear aplain shirt? I mean, it would look better with me in white.

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And an ordinary tie, you know, not too bright, or nobody willnotice the flower in your lapel?'

He looked amused. 'I'll do my best,' he promised. Shecouldn't tell what he was thinking, nor did he show any signsof telling her what they were going to do after the wedding,and somehow she found it quite impossible to

ask him anything at all.

'Ten o'clock on Tuesday, Hero,' he said as he was leaving.'You will be there, won't you?'

'Yes.' She tried to enlarge on that one, bald syllable, but shecouldn't think of anything else to say.

'We'll go on to the lawyer from there and get everythingsewn up legally,' he went on casually. 'I've already told himwhat we want. Is that all right with you?'

That time she couldn't even bring herself to say 'yes.'

She nodded her head and made a dash past him into thehouse, pretending that she had thought of something urgentto do upstairs in her room. It was all the more ridiculous,therefore, to hide behind the banisters and watch hisdeparture. He couldn't have known she was there, becauseshe and Betsy had experimented several times at hidingthere in the past, but it was strange the way he smiled rightup at her, looking right at the place where she was, just as if

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he did know and was amused by her fright.

As a matter of fact, she thought him decidedly good-lookingas he went out the front door. She was conscious of themuscular sweep of his back and his shoulders as hereplaced that terrible hat before going out into the sun.Heaven help her, but it wouldn't do if she were to start tofind him handsome! But he did have a rather attractive,distinctly masculine quality, if one liked that sort of thing. Itwas that something that had made Betsy refer to him asbeing 'simply super', Hero supposed, and there was nodoubt that Betsy knew about things like that. Had Betsytaken him out for one of her romantic interludes before shehad decided to turn him over to Hero? It was hard toimagine Benedict submitting meekly to being used likethat, but then where Betsy was concerned, men hadsubmitted to very much more than that!

Perhaps it was the thought of having to compete withBetsy's cool good looks that gave Hero the idea that shewould wear her mother's wedding dress to her ownwedding. She forgot for the moment all she had had to sayabout the ceremony being a farce and that she would wearwhat she always wore for the occasion. All sheremembered was Benedict asking her to wear white forhim, and she found she was eager to oblige him. She didhave in her wardrobe a white dress, but its severely tailoredlook would hardly have appealed to him. No, when it cameto pleasing Benedict, the more frills and furbelows the

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better!

Her mother had made her wedding dress with her ownhands, embroidering the veil with Greek love-knots, like somany links in a chain of eternity. Hero wondered briefly if itwas suitable when she and Benedict were destined to partalmost immediately, but she smothered down her doubts,thinking only of the way he would see her, dressed like anold-fashioned romantic dream, and that it would help tocounteract his first impression of her, as adventuress andcheat.

By nine o'clock she was fully dressed and ready.

'Don't you dare sit down!' Betsy's mother threatened her.'You'll crease your skirt, and I won't have it.' 'What am I todo?'

'Anything you like as long as you stand still and don'tbreathe. I'm determined you shall look as nice as your

parents would have wished. Your mother was a friend of

• /

mine —

'I know,' Hero said quickly. 'You've been so good to me thislast year. I'll never be able to thank you sufficiently.'

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'You do, my dear, by being a friend of Betsy. I'm worriedabout her. I wish she had some of your stability

- but there, it's no use wishing for the moon !'

Hero smiled wryly. Marrying a man she didn't know, anddidn't love, just because he was British and could transferto her that magic nationality, was not what she would havedescribed as stable behaviour!

'If we're walking, perhaps Betsy and I could leave

early? I want to show them my dress in the book shop —'

'Hero, really !'

'May I?' Hero persisted.

Betsy's mother broke into good-natured laughter. 'If youmust, dear. I'll tell Betsy to hurry up.'

The jacaranda was fully out as the two girls walked alongKenyatta Avenue, Hero carefully holding up her dress out ofthe dust. The sun glinted through the mauve blossom,lighting the purples, reds, and salmon pinks of thebougainvillea by the side of the road. It was the prettiestday imaginable; sparkling, not too hot, and with achampagne quality that the altitude often brought to the city.

'You've picked a lovely day to be married,' Betsy

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exclaimed.

'Only Benedict picked it,' Hero reminded her.

Betsy chuckled. 'You look quite resigned to your fate to me!Still, he is rather special, isn't he? You know, Hero, I'mbeginning to think you're a lucky girl. I wish I had been theone who had had to marry him! He only

had to smile that devastating smile at me —'

'And thinking something beastly!' Hero observed.

'I like his beastly thoughts!' Betsy declared with a sigh. 'He'sso — so masculine!'

'A masculine beast!' Hero concurred, missing her step.

'Well, I think he's madly attractive,' Betsy insisted. 'I'd justlove to be in your shoes. I can't think why I ever turned himover to you! And you can't kid me that you're not a bit keenyourself, Hero Kaufman, or you never would have worn yourmother's dress to be married in!'

Hero was saved from having to decide if there was anyjustice in this accusation by a group of people comingalong the pavement towards them. The young men whistledand cheered, and the girls giggled, making much of Hero'sunexpected appearance.

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'You getting married today! Pongezi!' they called after her.

'Oh dear!' said Hero, beginning to run, 'I'd forgotten therewould be other people around.'

'When isn't there?' Betsy retorted. She was enjoying thefuss as she enjoyed any admiration. 'They're not doing youany harm by congratulating you on getting married!'

Hero slowed her steps. 'I suppose not. Oh, how I wish todaywas over!'

Betsy favoured her with a wide, innocent stare. 'Am I todraw the obvious conclusions from that remark?' sheasked.

Hero went scarlet. 'Betsy, please don't! For two pins I'd runaway here and now, only I couldn't do that to Benedict,could I? It isn't his fault I've got myself into this mess!'

'He tore up your letter—'

'He thought I was writing to thank him for lunch. And I shouldhave done, but I didn't even think of it.' She was stillreproaching herself inwardly when they reached thebookshop. 'I wish I hadn't come,' Hero said flatly in the

doorway. 'It was silly!'

'Silly or not, we're here now, so we may as well go in,' Betsy

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encouraged her. She flung open the door and pushed Herointo the shop in front of her. 'Your favourite customer hascome to show you her wedding finery!' she announced in aloud, trumpeting voice, 'Doesn't she look lovely?'

The assistants gathered round, wiping their black handsshyly on their khaki trousers. 'You look beautiful, Miss

Kaufman! Mr. Carmichael was here a few minutes ago. Hebought many books, most of them for you. He askedparticularly what kind of books you like-'

'Did he indeed?' said Betsy.

Hero wished more than ever that she hadn't come. Shestretched out a hand and took down the book she had beenabout to look at the other day when Benedict had taken itfrom her. Then her eyes widened as she stared down at thetitle. No wonder the shop assistant had laughed at her! TheProblems of Drought and Erosion in African Farming byBenedict Carmichael! Her Benedict Carmichael? It had tobe!

'I'll take this with me,' she said in a quite unrecognizablevoice.

'But you can't want that!' Betsy objected. 'It looks as dull asditch-water!'

'I want it. Will you lend me ninety-five shillings, Betsy? I

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haven't enough to pay for it myself. I'll give it back to yousome time.'

'You can put it on Mr. Carmichael's account, MissKaufman,' one of the assistant's suggested.

'No, I couldn't do that!' Hero looked uncomfortable at thethought. 'You'll have to hide it, Betsy, until I can put it in mysuitcase out of sight. I don't want Benedict to see it.'

'My dear, the things you ask me to do for you! Just where,do you suppose, am I going to hide a tome like that?'

'I don't know,' Hero said helplessly. 'Only please do!Couldn't you put it in your father's car?'

Betsy's lack of enthusiasm showed clearly on her face. 'Isuppose I can, if I must,' she complained. 'Though if it wereme, and I bought it at all, I'd make him carry it around all dayfor me. Dash it all, he ought to be complimented that youwant to read at all!'

'I don't want him to know.'

Betsy shrugged and produced a hundred-shilling note outof her handbag, throwing it down on to the counter with anonchalant air. 'You'd better wrap it,' she said to the African.'Miss Kaufman will only have hysterics if I walk out with it asit is.'

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The African smiled, his eyes sliding shyly over Hero's face.'Mr. Carmichael was surprised that we had his book instock. He says most of it is theory, but that he was hopingto try out some of his ideas right now. Would that be on yourfarm, Miss Kaufman?'

A feeling of despair suddenly attacked Hero. 'But that willtake ages!' she murmured.

'So what?' said Betsy, frowning.

'So when do I get to England?'

Betsy shook her head at her. 'Look,' she said with afirmness that at another time would have made Hero laugh.'I'm prepared to make allowances for pre-wedding nerves,but this is getting out of hand! What did you suppose hewanted with your farm in the first place? It won't make anydifference to his taking you to England.'

'But it will! He said he'd have to finish his business here first- and it might be years!' Hero picked up the now wrappedbook and clutched it to her. 'What am I going to do, Betsy?'

'Do?' Betsy retorted. 'Do? You're going to get married,Hero Kaufman, that's what you're going to do!'

He had followed her instructions to the letter. His shirt was acrisp white and his tie in a conservative stripe that couldhave been an old school tie, it was so unremarkable.

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'Will I do?' he asked her as she went to take her place

beside him before the registrar.

'Oh, Benedict!' was all she could say.

'Well?' he prompted her, producing a bouquet of flowersfrom behind his back and putting them in her hand.

'You'll do, if I will,' she whispered back, blushing madlybecause she couldn't think what had got into her to ask hisopinion on her appearance. She didn't care what hethought of her!

'Oh, you'll do, Liebling, indeed you will!'

Her eyes stung with tears. In all her life, only her father hadcalled her that. Indeed, it was about the only word ofGerman that she knew. She rather suspected that it wasabout the only word her father had known too, that and afew swear words he had used under extreme pressure,hoping that his wife wouldn't object as strongly as if she hadunderstood what he was saying. It had been a jokebetween them for, although he had spoken no German, hermother both spoke and thought in her native Greek and hadoften threatened to make the rest of her family learn to talkto her in that language. But she never had, and Hero spokeonly English with any fluency.

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It was a strangely impersonal business getting married. ToHero, it was almost an anti-climax. Betsy held her flowersand pulled at the long skirts of her dress at intervals andBenedict thrust a ring on her finger when she was leastexpecting it. The registrar spoke quickly and with such ablurred pronunciation that she couldn't understand him and,when he called upon her to repeat her part of the ceremony,she was hard put to it to stumble through the formal wordsthat were to make her Benedict Carmichael's lawful wife.

'So unlike you,' Betsy's mother said as soon as she hadHero to herself, 'to choose not to be married in church. Now

Betsy I could understand, but I always thought you were toomuch like your mother not to want to be done properly. Still,I suppose it's none of my business and as Benedict madeall the arrangements, I suppose it was he who objected.'

Hero buried her face in her bouquet. She was sorelytempted to throw the blame on Benedict's broad shoulders,but she couldn't quite do it. 'It wasn't the same without myparents,' she muttered. 'Perhaps - later on — we may getthe marriage blessed, or something.'

'Oh, but of course I quite understand,' Betsy's mother saidhastily, glad to find a sentimental reason for Hero's lapsefrom grace. 'Though I must say, dear, that I don't think yourmother would have entirely approved, but then you knowbest! And you do look lovely, just like I imagine Helen of

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Troy must have looked!'

'Oh dear,' said Hero, 'I hope I don't cause as much troubleto my husband as she did to hers!' She became aware ofBenedict standing close beside her and could not stopherself blushing. 'I mean, I don't think I could cope withinstigating a war, and Paris, or whoever it was, as well asBenedict!'

'I'll make it my business to see that you don't get theopportunity,' Benedict assured her gravely.

By keeping her imprisoned on the farm? 'It's only the dressthat gives me the illusion of looking beautiful. In my jeansand shirt, no one would look twice at me anyway.'

'I may,' he said.

Betsy's mother gave a high-pitched giggle. 'Of course youwill! You can't expect Hero to dress on the farm as shedoes in Nairobi. She'll change in the evenings, I suppose,to look nice for you, but she'll have other things on her mind

besides pleasing you! You don't know what work meansuntil you've visited the Kaufman farm, I'm warning you!'

Benedict smiled faintly. 'That'll be my job to run the farm. Idon't intend that Hero shall work herself to death on mybehalf. It'll be quite enough for her to keep my house andlook beautiful for me!'

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Hero gave him a quick glance, meeting his blandexpression with a frown. He had no business to say suchthings. How did he know that she wouldn't take himseriously? Look beautiful for him, indeed! And, worse still,keep his house! Did he think she was going to give up hertime to seeing to his comfort? She would be in England,earning her own living, and undoing the knot they had tiedthat morning. She wouldn't be his wife for an instant longerthan he had to be. She would not!

He bent his head and kissed her pink cheek, making herblush all the more. His lips felt warm and rather nice and, forone idiotic moment, she thought she might return thecaress as any other wife would have done, just to see whatit would be like to put her face against the clean-lookingtanned skin of his.

'Shouldn't we be going?' she said loudly. The sound of herown voice sounded unreal and Benedict put an arm rightround her and drew her tight against him.

'Steady !' he said.

It wasn't much better when he helped her into the largeblack Mercedes that was to take them to the hotel where hehad been staying for the wedding breakfast he hadordered, and for them to change their clothes before theywent to visit the solicitor who was to tie up the legalbusiness of transferring the title to the Kaufman property to

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Benedict. She noticed everything about him; his hands, theway he moved his head to look at her, and those eyelashesof his.

'Benedict, where are we going when we've finished with thelawyer?'

'I thought we may as well go straight to the farm,' he said. 'Isthere something you particularly want to do?'

She shook her head. 'I thought we'd go to the farmtomorrow. I thought you might like to see the animals in theNational Park. Nairobi is the only city in the world that haswild animals living in the suburbs. But it was only an idea. Imean, you may not be interested—' The sentence diedaway into silence. She knew that she ought to tell him thatthey couldn't possible drive the whole distance betweenNairobi and the farm in a single afternoon. He obviouslydidn't understand the distances involved in travelling roundAfrica. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to say thewords that would upset the plans he had made.

'What about tonight?' he said.

'I could stay with Betsy.'

'I think not,' he answered shortly. 'I'll book you a room at myhotel. But we go to the farm tomorrow, Hero, whether youlike it or not. Is that clear?'

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'Oh yes,' she said. 'Tomorrow will be quite all right.' Shesighed with relief, glad that she had been able to persuadehim so easily. She sat back in her seat, leaning her headagainst the padded back. 'Home is a long way away — youdon't know how far!'

'Tired, Liebling?'

'Not really,' she said. 'More baffled, I think!'

'Never mind. One of these days you'll find that home iswhere the heart is—'

'In England!' she decided with a renewal of spirit.

'Maybe,' he agreed.

Hero enjoyed that afternoon as she had not enjoyedanything for a long time.

Benedict knew more about watching animals than anyoneHero had ever known. He paid their entrance fee andexchanged a few remarks with the ranger-guides who werewaiting to escort their various parties round the Park. Whenhe came back to the car, he told Hero that some lions hadbeen seen quite close by only that morning and he thoughtthey would probably come across them, asleep in the warmafternoon sun if they went to the same spot straight away.

Testing the wind, he was able to park a few years away

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from a mother and her cubs. He turned off the engine andlet the car glide the last short distance, breaking silentlywhen they came to a full stop. And he didn't spoil it all bytrying to talk as so many other people might have done. Hejust sat there, letting her look her fill and think her ownthoughts, apparently quite content to do the same.

When they were both ready to move again, Hero suggestedthey should take the Kalembi Valley Circuit, south of themain gate. 'There may be some leopards in the forest,' shesaid. 'I've only ever seen two in my life, they're getting sorare, but I feel lucky today! Besides, they've imported somenew white rhinos, and I want to see them too.'

They saw the first leopard, sitting up in a tree, watchingover his larder of food with lazy yellow eyes. She had neverbeen close enough to really look a leopard in the eyebefore and she was a little surprised to find him smallerthan she expected, and his fur was yellower too, thoughquite as beautifully marked as any animal she had everseen. Benedict touched her arm and pointed into anothertree, where the leopard's mate had taken up her station,relaxed and fast asleep, looking so exactly like a householdcat stretched out in a good position in the sun that Herowanted to laugh.

It was almost dark when they left the Park.

'It's been a glorious afternoon!' Hero exclaimed. 'Thank you

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for taking me, Benedict. I'll remember it as long as I live. Iwish Papa—' She broke off, remembering too late that shewould never be able to tell her father about it. 'We'll have tostart very early in the morning,' she said instead. 'But if youget tired, I can drive some of the way.'

Benedict glanced across at her and then back at the road.'We're flying up - I thought you realized that. It'll be mucheasier, Hero, and I don't want to leave my plane atEmbakasi Airport for longer than I have to. I picked it upsecond-hand in England and flew it out here myself—'

Hero's stomach jolted upwards and then plungeddownwards with a sickening sensation. She thought for oneterrible moment that she was going to faint, but even thatrelease was denied to her.

'I think I'm going to throw up,' she advised him.

He stopped the car so fast that she almost went through thewindscreen and had her out of the car and was holding herhead with a firm tenderness that she appreciated morethan she could say.

'I'm terribly sorry,' she said when she could, beginning toshiver.

'What happened?' he asked.

She leaned against him as though it were the most natural

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thing in the world, not minding at all when he ran his fingersthrough her hair, scraping it back from her forehead.

'I can't fly!' she exclaimed. 'I can't! I can't!' And she burst intotears.

He pushed her head down against his shoulder, waiting forthe storm to abate with all the patience he had shown in thePark.

'Because of your parents?' he asked, when her sobs hadmuted.

'I've never flown!' she declared violently. 'Nothing wouldinduce me to set foot in an aeroplane! If you're going to fly,I'll go up by train.'

'If that's the way you want it, but will you do something forme first?'

She nodded, blowing her nose as she did so. 'What?' shesaid.

'Will you drive out to the airport and take a good look at theaeroplane first: the controls, everything. Then, if you stillwant to go by train, I'll take you to the station myself.'

She looked at him with a dawning respect at his method ofcoping with the scene she had made. She had to admit thathe had succeeded in arousing her curiosity about his

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beastly plane. How could he be so sure she would changeher mind at his say-so, when she had been quite adamantonly a few minutes before? 'Do you always get your ownway?' she asked him. He smiled easily. 'Almost always,' hesaid.

CHAPTER FOUR

The noise from the band made it practically impossible tohear a word that was being said. Hero felt heavy-eyed andunattractive and she wished she had not come down for themeal.

'I didn't mean to make a fuss about nothing,' she said toBenedict in the short pause between two numbers.

'No,' he said, 'I don't think you'd ever do that.'

She felt warmed by his words. 'I thought you coped ratherwell,' she went on shyly. 'It was the shock as much asanything, I think. Anyway, I'm sorry you had to be there.'

His eyes twinkled appreciatively. 'Are you by any chancethanking me?' he queried. 'I thought that my being theremight be the one thing you wouldn't be able to forgive?'

'On the contrary,' she said. 'I was very grateful to you.'

'For making you face up to flying?'

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'No.' Her hands shook, despite her efforts to control them.Benedict covered both her hands with one of his, smilingacross the table at her.

'I won't force you to come with me. I thought you understoodthat?'

'Yes, but you'll think me very poor-spirited if I don't!' sheretorted. 'And it would be much more convenient, I can seethat. I'm sorry. I can do most things, but I don't think I can goin an aeroplane.' 'There's always the train—'

'But you'll fly anyway, won't you?' she said.

He raised his eyebrows. 'Why should you mind that?'

'I don't know.'

'I shan't crash easily,' he told her. 'By the time you

arrive, I'll be there at the station to meet you.'

She attempted a smile. 'It's hardly a station! The train stopsin the middle of nowhere and takes on more water. Youwon't know where to come!'

She didn't know what to make of the way he was looking ather. Still less could she understand herself, making himthink that she wasn't perfectly capable of getting back to thefarm all by herself! Why, when she thought of the dozens of

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times she had done it, she was quite upset by her ownaudacity.

'I shan't lose you so easily as that!' he promised with a wrysmile.

'No,' she stammered. 'Of course not.'

What a strange man he was! She studied him covertly allthrough the next course, pretending to eat the luscioussteak that had been put in front of her. The band wasplaying at full pelt now, the vocalist singing a local numberthat was heavy with the beat of Africa but had very littleactual tune to recommend it. It was a good excuse, though,for not talking, and Hero made the most of it, busy with herown thoughts.

She knew then that she wasn't going to travel up by train byherself. She would have to get in that plane with him nomatter how she felt about it.

She flung down her knife and fork, no longer evenpretending to eat.

'I'd rather go with you! Only don't talk about it anymore. Idon't want to think about it!'

'Are you sure?'

She nodded. Her mouth was dry. 'Oh, look!' she exclaimed

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with blatant relief. 'There's Betsy, and - and Bob. Do let's goover and speak to them!'

Benedict rose to his feet and went over to the other two andshe could see him gesturing towards their table as thoughhe were asking them to join them. Betsy came over atonce.

'My dear, I thought you'd be back on the farm by now!' Shedropped one eyelid in an elaborate wink, a gesture thatHero had once longed to be able to copy, and sat downbeside Hero. 'Did you talk him into a honeymoon after all?'

It wasn't her fault that the music should have come to ashattering conclusion just at that moment, so that her wordsrang round the dining-room, clearly audible from one end tothe other. Hero blanched.

'Betsy, it isn't funny !'

Betsy shrugged a pair of creamy shoulders. 'But it's amarvellous opportunity for you!' she protested. 'He'll be toobusy on the farm to take a good look at you, but here youcan present him with a charming, romantic image ofyourself. He'll see you with new eyes!'

'I couldn't!' Hero said flatly.

'Well, you certainly won't make him like you if you trail roundlooking like a sick ghost!' Betsy provoked her. 'If you don't

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want him, darling, there are plenty who do!'

Hero looked her in the eyes. 'I wish you wouldn't pretend tobe so hard-boiled! Benedict isn't the sort of person to playthe fool—'

'All men are,' Betsy said dryly.

Hero shrugged her shoulders. When Bob asked her todance, she stood up and turned into his arms, determinedto show Betsy that she didn't care what she and Benedictdid. There wasn't much room on the floor and she didn'tmuch care for the slack way in which Bob held her, and shewondered why she had never noticed how he dancedbefore.

'Betsy's in a funny mood,' Bob told her.

'She likes to make you grouchy,' Hero answered. 'You knowshe does!'

'She doesn't like me anyway,' he told her. 'Look at her now!She much prefers that husband of yours!'

Hero preferred not to look. 'Then why did you agree to joinus?' she asked him.

'I didn't have any choice. She shot across the diningroomlike a bat out of hell! I don't like the way she looks at Mr.Carmichael either. I've seen it all before. She picks up

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men as easily as she breathes!'

'Why shouldn't she?'

'She ought to take a leaf out of your book and settle down.Hero, don't you care when she makes eyes at Benedict?'

Hero shrugged her shoulders. 'She wouldn't,' she said atlast. 'Betsy may like to flirt but not with married men.'

'But she does! She is!' Bob looked more and moreindignant. 'I think we'd better go back to the table!' Thesinger, a black version of Liza Minnelli who plainly sawherself as a second Ella Fitzgerald, bumped her way intoanother number. Walking past her, Hero was surprised torecognize her as a girl she had known up country and shehalf-smiled at her, afraid that the other girl wouldn't knowher. But the girl did. She flashed a wide smile, her ear-ringsjangling against her neck, and pointed to her own finger toshow that she had noticed the wedding-ring on Hero's,casting an inquiring look at Bob. Hero shook her head andwaved a hand in Benedict's direction. The singer's faceshowed a rapt approval that startled her out of hercomplacency. Was Benedict really so attractive to otherwomen?

He was certainly doing well with Betsy. She was sitting soclose to him that their thighs were touching, and she wasmaking good use of her eyelashes. She looked up when

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Hero sat down on the other side of Benedict and smiledacross at her.

'Benedict has been asking me to come up and visit you in afew days,' she volunteered. 'He's afraid he'll die of boredomup there on his own!'

'He won't be on his own,' Hero pointed out. 'I'll be there.'

'Don't be stuffy!' Betsy said without animosity. 'You knowquite well what I mean.'

Hero thought of the many times she had asked Betsy tostay on the farm in the past and the long list of excuses thathad been made as to why she couldn't. And now, for thefirst time, she didn't want to have her friend anywhere nearthe farm and she had coolly invited herself as though it werethe most natural thing in the world!

'I think you're the one who might be bored,' Hero remarked,struggling not to look at Benedict to see what he wasthinking about all this.

'Me?' Betsy's astonishment was well done. 'When have Iever been bored?'

'Your track record reports at least more than once, Betsy.'His tone was easy, but Hero began to wonder about theextent of his knowledge of Betsy's 'track record'. 'Hero'squite right - we should have thought of that for ourselves.

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You'd better bring a friend along with you, Betsy, and theneverybody will be happy.' Except me, Hero thought. Nothingseemed to please her that evening. She sat very still in herseat, letting the conversation of the others drift round herwithout paying it any attention. She had never wanted to bealone on the farm before. On the contrary, she had alwaysbeen rather lonely there, for her parents had been completein themselves and had had no real need of her company.Always before she had been only too glad to be anywhereelse, especially in Nairobi, staying in Betsy's home. And yetnow she could hardly bear the thought of the other girlstaying on the farm with her. Was it - could it possibly be -because of Benedict?

'Bob can come too,' she said. 'If you can get leave. Canyou, Bob?'

Betsy actually yawned. 'We've already decided all that!' shesaid.

'Have we?' asked Hero.

Benedict smoothed the situation. 'She's been in a dreamever since we spotted a pair of leopards out in the Park thisafternoon,' he told them. 'I gather it's rather rare to get sucha good sighting.' Then Hero was conscious of a mockinglook in his own eyes as he added deadpan, 'The leopardsgot a good sighting too!'

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It took a minute to remember where she was. Hero slippedout of bed and went to look out of the window. A long trail ofcars were locked into a queue waiting to get into the centreof the city. It was the same every day now as they flooded inin the mornings and out again in the afternoons. Peoplehad told Hero that it was far worse in London these days,but despite being able to talk knowledgeably about OxfordStreet, St. Paul's Cathedral, and a hundred otherlandmarks well known to all Londoners, Hero had neverbeen there and she couldn't really imagine any city beingvery much larger than the ones she knew.

She glanced at her watch, a little reluctant to get dressedjust yet. The jacarandas that lined the road caught at herimagination. Since the rains had failed the last time,nothing had flowered on the farm. The last few weeks shehad spent at home she had felt starved of any colour. Therehad been nothing but dust and the sight of dying trees, andskinny animals eking out their existence with the help of theriver that ran at times through the property, but which hadbeen practically dry for nearly two years now. When shehad come back to Nairobi, she had been devastated by thecolour that had met her eyes. The jacarandas hadn't beenout then, but the bougainvillea, frangipani and hibiscus hadbeen everywhere, lending their glory to the wide streets ofthe town that had come into being almost by accident withthe building of the railway.

A knock on her door sent her scuttling back to bed. A

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second later an African entered in response to her call andlaid her early morning tea tray on the table beside her.

'Hujambo?' he said formally.

'Sijamb of' Hero replied, watching him fiddle with the cupand saucer to make sure that the handle was facing her.

'U mzima?' he went on with the caution of one who hadbeen surprised to get an answer the first time. Herosupposed there were not many people who stayed in thehotel who spoke anything else but English.

She suppressed a smile. 'Ni mzima/

She was rewarded by a broad grin. 'The bwana says he iseating breakfast in half an hour,' he told her. 'He will be atthe same table you had last night.'

‘Asante/ Hero murmured.

The African gone, she swallowed down the orange juicethat came automatically with the tea, and went back to thewindow. It was then that she remembered

Benedict's book. She hunted in her suitcase, hoping thatBetsy had remembered to put it away there, and came uptriumphantly with it still wrapped in the paper from the shop.Unwrapped, she thought it looked impressive. There waseven a picture of Benedict on the back of the cover, a list of

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his degrees, and a short piece about a series of lectureshe had given on land reclamation in desert lands, and a fewfacts about his past life: that he had been born in Londonthirty-four years before; the school he had gone to; andfinally a list of the universities where he had either studiedor taught at one time or another.

Hero thrust the book back into the bottom of her suitcase.She felt unsettled by the unexpected knowledge she hadacquired about him. She felt she would have to get to knowhim all over again. This wasn't the work of the Benedict thatshe knew. This came from a man who was an expert in hisown field and who, for some reason best known to himself,had said nothing about his own achievements in any of theconversations she had had with him. And she hadn't askedhim about himself either! She hadn't been sufficientlyinterested, she told herself with unwonted humility, and hehad known it.

It was with a subdued air that Hero went down to breakfast.She helped herself to a slice of paw-paw from the ladentable of cereals and fruits in the centre of the room andslipped into her seat opposite Benedict. He stood up asshe approached the table.

'Sleep well?' he asked her.

'Yes,' she said. 'Did you?'

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'Well enough.' He sat down again. 'I've ordered eggs andbacon and coffee for us both,' he went on. 'I hope that's allright with you?'

She nodded, not liking to tell him that she seldom atebreakfast. 'I didn't mean to keep you waiting. I couldn'tmake up my mind what to wear.'

He looked her over, that detached look of amusementagain in his eyes. 'I'll back you for Miss World.'

'Oh!' The colour fled up her cheeks again. 'I wasn't fishing.'

'I guess you weren't,' he replied dryly, deliberatelymisunderstanding and looking out of the window at the aridwastes beyond. 'Water does seem in short supply aroundthese parts.'

Hero swallowed and, looking at his colourful shirt,instinctively said the first thing which came into her head.'Were - are you fond of the person who gave you that shirt?'

'Who said that anyone gave it me, Liebling?'

'Is she the girl you're in love with?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'I didn't say it was a girl—' 'No, youdidn't,' she admitted. 'Was it - was it Betsy who gave it toyou?'

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'Now I wonder what makes you think that?' he drawled.

'It - it just occurred to me,' she tried to explain. To her relief,the waiter arrived with their bacon and eggs, but even whensuch an easy let-out had been presented to her she couldn'tresist pressing him for an answer. 'Was it?'

He laughed easily. 'Your interest is most flattering.' Heroshook her head. He was quite at liberty to accept presentsfrom anyone he wanted to - anyone at all! But she couldn'thelp it if she didn't like the idea of his exchanging presentswith Betsy. It gave her a lowering feeling that she couldn'texplain. And when had Betsy had the time to get to knowhim well enough to give him shirts and - and what else hadshe given him ?

'If she gave it to you, I suppose you'd better keep it!' shesaid shortly.

He smiled at her. 'Thank you,' he said. 'Will this be enoughmarmalade for you?'

She recognized that the subject was now closed andaccepted his lead willingly enough. She simply couldn'tthink what was the matter with her, making scenes aboutnothing in particular, and taking him to task aboutsomething that was absolutely no business of hers! Shewatched him across the table as he poured himself anothercup of coffee. He drank it black, piling in the sugar with a

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liberal hand, and drinking it with a vague, abstracted air thatprobably meant that he was thinking about something quitedifferent. She wondered what it was.

'What time do we have to be at the airport?' she asked him.

He stared at her as though she were a stranger. 'I'm sorry.What did you say?'

'Nothing,' she said. 'I think I'll go and pack my things. Doesit matter how much I take with me?'

'I shouldn't think so!' His eyes focused on her face. 'Howmuch do you want to take?'

'Well, she said, 'a couple of suitcases. Only the booksweigh rather heavily and one can't take much on a plane,can one?'

'I don't think you need worry about that,' he reassured her.

'But I do.'

'So I get the impression. Can't you leave it to me, Liebling,to see you safely home?'

To her surprise, she found she could. It was a comfortablefeeling to know that she had someone behind her. She hadbeen alone for so long. But how odd that that someoneshould be anyone remotely like Benedict Carmichael!

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Sitting beside Benedict in the car on the way out to theairport, Hero tried not to think about the approaching flight.She amused herself instead by wondering about herhusband and what it was going to be like to have him aboutthe house, in the rooms that still bore the stamp of herparents' presence. He would have her parents' bedroom,she decided, because it was much bigger and airier thanany of the others, and it had its own bathroom which hewould probably appreciate when it came to shaving and soon. There wouldn't be much bathing at the moment, thewater shortage was far too grave for that.

They left the industrial suburbs behind and crossed over theKampala-Mombasa road, turning into the road that led tothe airport. Hero stiffened as she caught sight of the planeson the runway. They were so small, so impractical in allthose miles of space they were expected to traverse, andthe one that Benedict was expecting her to travel in wassmaller by far than any of these.

'You can still go by train.' His voice broke across herthoughts.

'No,' she said. 'I'd rather go with you.'

'Are you beginning to get some confidence in yourhusband?' His tone was again deadpan.

When the car came to a stop, she stepped out on to the

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tarmac as cool as a cucumber. She even managed a smilein the direction of the tiny plane that Benedict pointed out toher as being his. It had some mysterious letters down eitherside which meant nothing to her, and a badge which meanteven less.

It was bigger inside than she had expected, fitted with sixcomfortable seats, three down each side; a minute galley;and two more seats up in the cockpit, which was separatedfrom the cabin by a heavy curtain.

'You'd better sit up front with me,' Benedict advised her.

Hero presented him with a white face. 'Are you going todrive?' she demanded.

'It's usually called flying.' His tone was easy. 'Sit down andI'll strap you in. You'll see better from up here and I'll be ableto keep an eye on you.'

'Is that necessary?'

'I think so,' he said. He clicked the heavy buckle in place,shortening the straps to fit her slender form. 'There's notmuch of you, is there?'

'Enough.' She didn't dare look up at him. Besides, she wastoo busy watching his scarred hands as they workedaround her, adjusting the various straps. They fascinatedher. She felt a little shiver of pleasure when they touched

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her. She was glad when he took a step away from her,satisfied that her belt now fitted, and took his place in whatshe still thought of as the driving seat, fastening himself inwith neat, efficient movements.

A few minutes later he had obtained clearance to take offand the engine sprang into life. Hero didn't have time to beafraid. All she could do was stare at his hands while theymoved about the controls, taxiing the plane across theapron and down the runway ready to turn round and takethe final run up to the moment of flight. They were up beforeshe was aware, climbing steadily upwards into the clearblue sky.

'It's beautiful!' Hero remarked.

'It'll get better as we go round Mount Kenya,' he said.

'Why don't you make us some coffee?'

'Perhaps I'll feel more like it in a little while, if - if you don'tmind waiting?'

He turned towards her and looked into her eyesdeliberately. 'I can wait,' he said, and Hero was veryconscious that he intended a double meaning.

CHAPTER FIVE

The sunburned, almost blackened, tough grass of the plains

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gave way to the majesty of Mount Kenya, that most beautifulof mountains, where the old gods of Africa took up theirresidence and promised the highlands to the tribes of theirchoice, only to be defeated at the hands of the white mandespite the rumours that their time was still to come.Perhaps it was, Hero thought, as she stared down at thechanging land below, and she could not entirely regret it.The land made its own demands on the people whoworked it, forming them to its requirements as much as theydid it, and who were the gods if they were not thepersonification of the land and its most prominent features?

'There's Embu down there,' she said aloud. 'We must beabout half-way there.' 'Feel like that coffee yet?'

Hero wished now that she had got it when he had firstsuggested it. Near the mountain, there were spirals of airand frequent pockets that made the plane rise and fallwithout warning, doing disastrous things to her stomach.She unbuckled her seat-belt and stood up uncertainly,pausing to see if she could detect any difference in theplane's performance when she moved about. It didn't seemto make the slightest difference after all, but that didn't stopher being infuriated by Benedict's grin as she slipped pasthim, thrusting the curtain aside to go into the tiny galley.

When she came back with the coffee, he was studying themap.

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'Lost the way?' she asked.

'I was looking for Nanyuki,' he answered.

'It's on the other side of the mountain,' she said. Theaeroplane flew through another pocket and droppedseveral feet, making her fall into her seat with more hastethan grace. 'Must you do that?' she demanded.

'It must be your added weight up here in the nose.'

'I thought you said it didn't matter!' she exclaimed.

'It doesn't. Did your mother teach you to cook as well asmake coffee?'

'Of course,' she said, re-fastening her seat-belt just in casehe should be wrong and it was she who had caused thesudden fall in height.

'There's no of course about it. I know many girls out herewho can't boil an egg for themselves!'

He would! He certainly hadn't wasted his time in Kenya, shethought, darkly. But then he knew Betsy, and one didn'thave to look any further if one wanted a girl who couldn'tcook or do anything but enjoy herself. Betsy had beenwaited on, hand and foot, all her life.

'My mother had other ideas,' she said. 'She didn't approve

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of asking anyone else to do what one can't do oneself.'

'And her daughter?'

Hero strove to keep the note of reproof out of her voice. Itwouldn't do to criticise Betsy. 'I agree with her. I prefer to dothings for myself.' 'And for your husband?'

Hero took a hurried sip of coffee. 'When I have a husband -a proper one, I mean - naturally I'll cook for him and—' Shebroke off, not liking to think what else she might do for him.

'And?' he went on.

'And—' she began. 'Well, naturally, I'll serve him as best Imay. Wouldn't you expect that from your wife?'

'Possibly. You're an intriguing mixture, Hero Carmichael.Mostly, you're as English as I am, but then you come outwith something delightfully old-fashioned and Greek likethat.'

'My mother was Greek. Naturally I have some of her ideas—'

'Naturally!'

She sat up very straight. 'If you're going to be beastly--! But Isuppose you'll marry somebody modern, someone you canshow off socially, and I wish you joy of her! If you stay out

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here, she won't need to be able to cook!'

'Oh, I don't know,' he said. 'There may be servants to behad at the moment, but life is changing, even here.'

Hero disdained to answer. She drank her coffee down at asingle gulp and gasped as the hot liquid burned her insideas it went down.

'Serves you right!' Benedict said easily. 'You're so sure youknow all that there is to know about me-'

'I do not! I know you're ever so clever, and I know now whatyou're doing in Kenya, but I don't know anything else aboutyou.' She added, 'And I don't want to!'

'Then don't keep fishing for information! It isn't seemly to goon about my future wife, when I've only been married to youfor twenty-four hours!'

'Then you shouldn't have told me about her.'

'Perhaps I don't mean what I say, any more than you do,' hesaid blandly. 'You once told me you were never going to getproperly married because you much preferred being onyour own!'

Hero swept him a speaking glance and turned her attentionback to the scenery outside, trying to hide the inner turmoilhis words had evoked. It was true that she

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had never considered marriage for herself before she hadknown him. She had thought that she would never want tomarry, that no man could stir her emotions sufficiently forher ever to want to marry. But now she knew that the rightman would sweep her off her feet and she wouldn't be ableto help herself.

She turned her head to find him studying her with aspeculative air, as if he had every right to look his fill at her.Her eye kindled. She tossed her head in the air to showhim she didn't care what he did.

'I wish you'd look where you're going!' she exclaimed.

He laughed. 'Never mind,' he said. 'There's Meru now. Itwon't be much further to Isiolo and home. Are you lookingforward to being back?'

'In a way.' She thought of the state of the farm as she hadlast seen it. 'You did say you wanted to make the desertblood, didn't you?'

'Is it as bad as that?'

She nodded. 'Worse!'

'Oh well, I expect we'll be able to knock it into some kind ofshape—'

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'I didn't think about misleading you then/ she tried toexplain. She took a deep breath. 'I misled you badly, but Ididn't mean to - at least, in a way, I didn't. I'm afraid you'regoing to be very disappointed in the farm.'

He did not seem put out. 'I already knew about the effects ofthe drought. In fact, I wouldn't have wanted the farm if ithadn't been affected.'

She wondered if he really had an idea of the exact state ofthe farm. But he would soon know. She leaned forward inher seat and caught her first glance ever of Isiolo from theair. She recognized immediately the Sacred Heart of

Jesus Church and the extraordinary pink fort-like buildingthat was the local branch of Barclay's Bank, standing outlike something out of Beau Geste amongst the smallcorrugated-iron dukas, the shops that supplied most of theneeds of the huge area they were expected to serve.

'You've been here before, haven't you?' she brought outquickly, unable to resist the temptation of questioning himany longer.

'To Isiolo? No, never.'

'To Kenya?'

'Yes, I was here last year. I came as a tourist and did all theusual things, like the game reserves. The drought had

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already bitten pretty deep and I had some ideas about theproblem which I wanted to put into practice. That waseasier said than done. I thought UNESCO might back me,but their resources are severely restricted. They wereprepared to send me to Kenya, they'll even allow me tocombine my own project with their work, but I had to find theland for myself.'

'And now you've done so?'

'Yes, and got a wife into the bargain,' His tone wasmocking. 'But my time will be so restricted. I have to dotheir work too. That's what the plane is for, and most of theother equipment I shall be using.'

The plane began to lose height, preparatory to comingdown on the landing strip her father had laid out beside thedry bed of the river.

'If you tell me what to do, I can help you,' she offered, a littleafraid he would think she was being merely impertinent.

'I thought you wanted to hurry on to England?'

She hesitated. 'Well, yes,' she murmured, 'but I don't haveto go yet. There are lots of things I can do. I can do theaccounts, and I know about the cattle and everything. I'd liketo help.'

For a moment she thought she saw a look of satisfaction

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cross his face. Was this what he had intended all along?

'It'll only be for a year,' she put in quickly, in case he shouldget the wrong impression of her offer.

'But of course,' he agreed, as though he were not tooconcerned, which somehow nettled Hero. 'I never thoughtanything else!'

The effects of the drought were worse than Hero hadremembered. The trees her parents had planted round thehouse drooped, red with dust, over the remnants of whathad once been the garden. Even the roses, her mother'sfavourites and therefore the recipients of special care, haddied and were reduced to a few sticks poking out of theground.

Hero did her best not to look at the devastation, knowinghow much the sight would have hurt her mother, but stroderesolutely on to the verandah that ran along the front of thehouse.

'I'll show you your room,' she said to Benedict. She led theway through the darkened hall, throwing open a door at thefar end of the passageway. Her heart banged against herribs as she raised the blinds and the sunlight flooded intothe room, revealing the king-sized double bed her parentshad shared and the shabbiness of the few other pieces offurniture that had once housed her parents' clothes.

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Benedict came to a full stop in the doorway, frowning at thesaccharine-sweet ikons that decorated the walls. Followinghis glance, Hero flushed. She had grown used to thestylized representations of Our Lady of the Sign and ChristPantocrator over the years. They were a far cry from thoseikons painted on wood of which they were the paleimitations, turned out by the thousand on cheap, shinypaper, and probably printed in Italy and not in Greece at all.Not even her father had been able to share Hero's mother'sdevotion to these holy objects, but he had put up with thembecause it was seldom indeed that his wife had seen theinside of the Greek Orthodox Church in Nairobi, andbecause she was fond of them.

'She only had one real ikon,' Hero tried to explain.

'I've got it in my room, but I'll bring it back if you like?'

'Wouldn't you prefer to have this room yourself?' he askedher.

She shook her head. 'It's the best room,' she said shyly, 'butI prefer mine. I have all my things there, and I chose thecurtains myself - things like that.'

'Don't you like the curtains in here?' Hero never had likedthem, even badly faded as they were now. 'I see what youmean,' he went on. 'It isn't the sort of thing I notice unless it'spointed out to me.'

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'I'll bring back the other ikon,' Hero offered.

But he wouldn't have it. 'You keep it. It's yours anyway.'

'It isn't really. Everything here belongs to you now. That'swhat we agreed!'

He stared out of the window. The dead and dying grasswent on and on into the distance as far as he could see,broken only by the occasional flat-topped acacia tree, theyellow bark and branches turning the same blackened greythat was creeping across the whole land.

'I want you to have it, Hero,' he said abruptly. 'Where is yourroom, by the way?'

She was hesitant about showing it to him, but she couldn'tthink of any good reason why she should cavil at hisfollowing her down the corridor to her own, much smallerroom, with the same narrow bed she had when she was achild, and a much thumbed collection of books on theshelves that lined two of the four walls. He went over to thebooks at once, smiling at a battered copy of ArthurRansome's Swallows and Amazons and some of the Dr.Doolittle books stuck in at random between more seriousworks on Agricultural Economics and the Principles ofAccountancy.

'I'd expected you to prefer girls' books,' he said.

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Her breath stuck in the back of her throat. Somehow it wasterribly important that he should approve all the books shehad had as a child. 'I liked all sorts,' she told him, 'LittleWomen, and What Katy Did - even Little Lord Fauntleroy. Iloved him dearly!'

'Lucky little Lord Fauntleroy!' His tone was again mocking.

She edged towards the door, more shy of him than she hadever been. 'I'll go and find Koinage. He'll want to know whatwe want for lunch. Shall I ask him to bring in your luggage?'She hesitated, waiting for his answer. 'Shall I unpack foryou, or do you prefer to do it yourself?'

He turned on his heel. 'Would you really unpack for me?' heasked.

She threaded her fingers together, refusing to meet hisinquiring glance. 'Of course,' she said.

'What a splendid woman your mother must have been!' heremarked.

'Well, so she was!' Hero agreed. And if he wanted to useher services now, he could jolly well ask, she thought toherself. She had plenty to do, unpacking for herself.

He came across the room to her, picking up a strand of herhair and pulling it gently between two fingers. 'I still think youshould have your parents' room,' he said. 'If I slept in the

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dressing-room, it would be more convenient when Betsyand her friends come visiting—'

'How did you know there was a dressing-room?' shedemanded.

He shrugged, smiling. 'One door for the bathroom, the otherthe dressing-room. It didn't take a great deal of deductionto work that out.' He pulled at her hair again. 'You can keepthe door shut if you like. I can use the other one. Will thatsuit you?'

She nodded silently. 'But what will Betsy think?'

'Does it matter what she thinks?'

'No, I suppose not,' she admitted. 'Not if you don't mind.'

'Betsy and I understand one another pretty well,' he saiddryly. 'You don't have to worry about her.'

She looked up at him then. 'Did you - did you know herbefore?' she inquired.

His hand fell away from her hair and he frowned. 'I met herlast year. She was doing the Tsavo Game Reserve at thesame time I was there.'

He did not continue, and Hero could not resist saying: 'Shedidn't tell me she'd known you before. I thought she barely

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knew you at all!'

'I thought you once told me you didn't go in for fishing?'

He pulled her into the curve of his arm and walked alongwith her back along the hall. 'I think I'd go a long way if thoseGreek eyes of yours were waiting for me at the other end.They're so dark and serious, even when you laugh! Don'tthrow them away on anyone who doesn't appreciate them.'He bent his head and kissed her lightly on the cheek. 'I likethe Greek bits.'

Hero sat on the verandah, pretending to smock the top of anew nightdress she was making for herself, but actually shewas waiting for Benedict. He had been gone for a long timeand she was beginning to wonder if the Land-Rover he hadtaken had broken down, or whether he was lost, trying todiscover the limits of the dried-out fields. The Africanservant came out of the door and stared into the distancetoo. He had already accepted Benedict as the new ownerof the farm, which Hero, knowing his essentiallyconservative nature, had seen as a tribute to her husband'shandling of him. 'Koinange, Bwana mahali gani?' TheAfrican shrugged his shoulders. 'Hajawa — ' he began.Memsahib Hero, ngoja. Bwana kuja sasa.' Hero lookedwhere he was pointing and saw the plume of dust thatheralded the coming of the Land- Rover. 'Leti chaiyKoinange,' she said in relief, and then wondered if tea wasquite the beverage Benedict would require after swallowing

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all that dust. In her anxiety, she pricked her finger and, in herdetermination not to give way to the expletive that rose toher lips, some blood fell on the new nightdress. She shookit crossly, rescuing the scissors from the arm of her chaironly just in time to save them from clattering to the floor. Soshe missed seeing Benedict get out of the Land-Rover andwas surprised to find him

standing beside her.

'I've ordered some tea,' she told him.

'Good.' He flung himself into the chair beside hers,stretching out his legs in front of him.

Hero stood up as quickly as he had sat down. 'I'll go andget the tea myself,' she said. 'Koinange will dream untilsunset if he's allowed to, and you look as if you could dowith a cup of something. Papa always drank whisky, but Inever got any more in after - I'll drive to Isiolo tomorrow andget you some. I should have thought when we were inNairobi—'

'I'm quite happy with tea,' he interrupted her.

She made the tea as quickly as she could, using the localtea that had a pleasant, smoky taste that she herself likedvery much. Then she went back to the verandah. Benedictwas examining the nightie she was making, a slight smileon his face. She put down the tray and almost snatched it

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away from him.

'You sew a neat seam, Hero Carmichael,' he murmured.'Did your mother teach you that too?'

She put the nightdress away. 'I went to a convent school.Sewing was a very important part of the syllabus as far asthe nuns were concerned!'

He accepted his cup of tea from her hand with acomfortable sigh. 'I'm afraid you'll have to start taking insewing after today.'

She cast him a swift look. 'Is it very bad?'

He nodded.

'The Kaufman specials? Will they have to go?'

He nodded again. 'It would be a shame to slaughter them,though. I'm going to try to send them to a friend of mine, tolook after until the going gets better. It's sheer

cruelty to keep them on here.'

'I know,' she said. 'But I couldn't bring myself to get rid ofthem!' She poured out her own tea. 'I'm glad it's yourresponsibility now,' she confessed quickly. 'I'm afraid it'syou who'll be the poorer though, they're all yours now!'

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'Shall we say community property?' he suggested. 'Don'tfret. It isn't all bad news.'

'Isn't it?'

He sat forward. 'I'm going to get our topsoil back first of all.Most of it seems to have been washed down the river in thelast rains. I'm going to truck it back to the fields and plant itwith something to give it great stability before the next rainscome.'

'If they come!'

'They'll come! Not this year perhaps, but sooner or laterthey'll come, and I want to be ready for them. If thebiochemists are right, all this area will get steadily drier anddrier in the next few years - it's something to do with lessheat reaching the world from the sun which upsets someregions more than others - and we'll need to make use ofevery drop of rain we get. But I'm sure it can be done, andI'm going to do it!'

She could almost believe him. 'All alone?' she said.

'If it can't be done in Kenya, it can't be done anywhere! Theother countries in the Sahel belt haven't got the sameadvantages by a long shot. Most of them are tied to asingle cash crop that's still largely controlled by their oldcolonial masters. More and more of their traditionalsubsistence fanning, which is what they fell back on

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whenever things went wrong in the past, has beenabandoned in favour of giving more and more land toproducing something that will count with the economiststowards their official gross national production and servingthe debts they've incurred from various international bodies.When the cash crops fail, the people starve!'

'But I don't see what you can do here.'

'Probably not very much, but what one can do in a smallarea can be repeated again and again right across thecontinent. If I can show that some kind of farming here,despite the drought and the encroaching desert, I can passon my results to UNESCO, and to the other agencies, andthey can advise the governments concerned. It won't makemuch difference, but it may save a few lives.'

She poured Benedict out another cup of tea when he'Those trousers won't do!' he surprised her by say

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She poured Benedict out another cup of tea when hepassed her his cup. 'You can't do it all at once!' she said.

'I suppose not, but I want to get the work started before Itake you to England. It won't wait, Hero. I wish it would, in away. You'd be better off in England, with my aunt to fussover you, than out here where things can only get harder inthe next few months.' Hero hid her face from him, watchingthe sun as it made its sudden dash from the heavens withthe forces of the night in hot pursuit. Kenya being so nearthe Equator, there was no such thing as twilight. It was dayone minute and as black as midnight the next. Indeed, thestars were already hanging like huge, heavy jewels againsta black velvet background. Perhaps, later, the moon wouldcome up and cast its silver glow over the dusty scene. Herowas always more conscious of such things at home thanwhen she was in Nairobi. How she would miss it, shethought, when she went to England. She would miss thecrickets and the brilliantly coloured song-birds that broughtecstasy to the bird-lover's heart when previously they hadonly seen their dowdy relations of more northerly climes.Hero had heard them talking, marvelling over thecombination of song and plumage that made them sospecial to their admirers. She would miss the animals too,and the people - she would miss her whole life here.

'I think I'd rather stay,' she said.

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CHAPTER SIX

Hero watched, with a sense of loss, the small plane take tothe skies. It was ridiculous to feel like that, when she knewquite well that Benedict was coming back in a couple ofdays or less. It had been fun to work beside him on the farmand talk to him in the evenings. It had even been rather niceto hear him moving round the dressing-room at night.Sometimes she had remembered how lonely it had beencoming back to the farm by herself and struggling with herproblems on her own. Now they were BenedictCarmichael's problems and she was glad of it. It was quitetrue what they said about a trouble shared being a troublehalved.

He had meant what he said about retrieving what he couldof the topsoil that had been washed away with disastrousresults every time it rained. He had searched the riverbanks, clicking his teeth at the roots that had been laidbare, until she had felt obliged to tell him that to an Africanclicking one's teeth was a deadly insult and not a simplegesture of disapproval.

'And how do you know that?' he had asked her.

She had shrugged, not really knowing. 'I just do,' she hadsaid.

They had started trucking the soil back to the fields almost

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immediately. Hero had felt rather pleased with herself aboutthat. She might have been scared of flying, and more than alittle out of her depth in Nairobi, but she could drive a lorryand could even manage the round trip in a shorter time thanit took Benedict himself.

In the evenings she had started to make the shirt she hadpromised him to replace the one he had obediently thrownaway. She had chosen the material with care. It had a whitebackground, with black and gold stripes alternating, andshe thought he looked more handsome in it than anythingelse she had seen him wear.

He was wearing it now, to fly up to the Sudan on UNESCObusiness, so perhaps he liked it too. She wished he hadsaid something about it, but he never seemed to noticewhat he was wearing, though he never failed to commenton her clothes, as though it really mattered to him.

She had asked him about the letters on the sides of theplane as they had walked down to the air-strip together.

'So you noticed them, did you?' he had said, surprised. 'Ithought you were in too much of a panic to notice anything.'

'I always notice inessentials!'

'So it seems. MAB: Man and the Biosphere. It's aUNESCO programme that's going on at the present time,mostly in West Africa at this time, making a scientific

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assessment of the long-term future of the Sahel area. Myfield is the Sudan and making observations here inNorthern Kenya too.'

Hero had stuck her hands into her pockets, wishing sheunderstood more about such things. 'Are you veryimportant, Benedict?'

He had laughed. 'We all like to think that.'

'But that doesn't make us so,' she had responded.

'What do you do exactly?'

'A bit of this, a bit of that. I can tell you better what MAB isdoing, like a soil and vegetation inventory; examining thepotential of the Sahelian zone as a support for human andanimal life; and various ecological observations involvingthe study of plant life suitable to drought conditions and thefinding of new species that could contribute to theregeneration of the ecosystem. We're even looking into abalance between the needs of the nomads who live rightacross the area, and those of the small farmers whereverthey come into contact with one another. Does that give yousome idea?'

Hero hadn't liked to confess that she was as much in thedark as ever. She had made a mental resolution to read hisbook in its entirety while he was away, instead of skimmingthrough the duller chapters, hoping to find out more about

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his personal reactions and about all the different things hehad done.

'We have mostly nomads around here,' she had told him.'The Turkana. They're a fabulous people - literally! It wasyears before anything was known about them, except thatthey were supposed to be practically giants and terriblyfierce. They were the only people to take on the Masai androut them, but then they were enslaved by the Abyssiniansthemselves. They're a Nilo-hamitic people. You'll like them.''Do any of them work for us?'

She had considered for a moment. 'No, I don't think so.Most of the people we employ are Somalis, and one or twoSamburus.'

And then, a moment or two later, he had stepped into theplane, fastening the door securely behind him, and she hadbeen alone. The movement of the aeroplane had raised thedust and it had risen in a cloud round her head, staining herskin and clothing a uniform rust-red. She hadn't been ableto see whether he had waved to her or not, but she liked tothink he had.

Hero spent the rest of the day trucking soil as though herlife depended on it. She didn't even bother to go back tothe house for lunch, working through the heat of the day witha tenacity that would have brought Benedict's ire down onher head had he been there to see it. Going home, just

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before sunset, there were dik-dik everywhere, scuttlingback and forth across the road. The smallest of the Africanantelopes, they are no larger than a hare, with the delicatefeatures of their race and a turn of speed that make themdifficult to follow as they dash for cover when startled. Heroslowed to a crawl, enjoying their antics ahead of her. Shewas even better pleased when she caught sight of ahandsome oryx further off in the bush, with its distinctivelong horns, curling slightly backwards, and its beautifulblack and white markings on its face. It had been startledby some sound and, head raised, was sniffing the wind,scenting some unseen danger.

Then Hero saw it too. A lioness, thin to the point ofemaciation, crouched behind a long-dead bush, waiting tospring at any prey that came her way. And she had chosenthe oryx, there was no doubt about that. Hero's heart wentout to the beautiful animal as it began its run too late andwas brought down by the tawny huntress, but that was theway of life in the wild. The lioness would call her family tothe kill and they would survive a little longer because of it, orsome of them would. The male would eat first, gorginghimself on the still warm carcass, and then his wives wouldeat too. Only after they were done would the cubs beallowed to take their share, with the result that the droughthad taken its toll of the young cats too, more even than oftheir elders.

There was only Koinange to tell about the animals and he

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greeted the information with an impassive face that toldmore clearly than anything he could have said how little theymeant to him. His only interest was in what Hero was goingto eat that evening.

'Wataka hiki au hiki? Do you want this or that?' hedemanded, pointing to the casserole she should have hadat lunchtime and a large venison steak he had planned forher dinner.

Hero didn't care what she ate. She longed for a bath towash away the red dust that covered her from head to foot,a long, hot bath that would ease her aching muscles andmake it easier for her to sleep. But there was no chance ofthat and she had to do the best she could with a bowl oftepid water and a lot of determination.

After that she ate the casserole that Koinange had heatedup for her to the accompaniment of a recording ofRodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez for guitar and orchestra.The blind Spanish composer was very much in favour withher at the moment and she felt much better when the lastsounds had died away. There was nothing to stop her thenfrom going straight to bed to read Benedict's book untilsleep overcame her, but she found no comfort in theenormous bed that had been her parents, and she wastempted to return to her own room, or even to trespass inthe dressing-room where contact with another human beingwouldn't seem so very far away.

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It was the first time she had been in the dressing-roomsince Benedict had taken possession of it. It was a verysmall room. Nor did he seem to have made much impacton it: there were no photographs on display, or any of theusual clutter that people kept in their bedrooms. In a waythis disappointed her, but as she felt rather guilty beingthere anyway, in another way it was rather a relief. She layfully clothed on his bed and opened the heavy book at thebeginning, determined to take in every word of it so that,when he came back, she would be able to take anintelligent interest in all his doings.

She woke to the sound of hyenas howling outside, in afright lest Benedict should have returned and found herasleep on his bed. She leaped to her feet and rushed to herown bed, barely pausing to shut the door into the dressing-room. She had never locked it, right from the beginning,and it wouldn't have occurred to her to do so now. Shetrusted him. But she thought about locking it now as she layin the dark, her heart thudding as she listened to the hyenasstill howling into the night. It was silly of her to think thatBenedict might have come back. He wasn't coming backuntil the next evening and he had warned her that he wouldbe very late then.

She was still awake when the sun came up, heralding thestart of a new day. It was perfectly reasonable to her thatthe Africans, like the Romans before them, counted the firsthour of the day from six o'clock in the morning and not from

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midnight. In a few minutes Koinange would be hammeringon the door to be let in to make her breakfast, and then itwould be time to start work again. She sighed at thethought, stretching her aching limbs. What she wouldn't givefor a shower!

The lorry began playing up in the middle of the afternoon. Itwas over-heating badly and she had no idea what to doabout it. She poured water into the radiator with a liberalhand, but it boiled almost immediately and she was backwhere she had started. One of the African drivers cameover and had a look at it for her, but he was no wiser thanshe when it came to the intricacies of the internalcombustion engine.

'It's dead,' he said, with a shrug that was meant to imply thatit was of no further interest to anyone.

'It is certainly dead,' she agreed, 'but we have to get it goingagain.'

'When the bwana comes back, he will make it live again!'

'No, now!' she insisted.

A long discussion followed that brought very little in the wayof results, and Hero was in despair. She drooped over thebonnet of the lorry, her head in her hands, wondering whatto do next. When she looked up, she was surprised to seea Land-Rover coming towards them, the dust rising high

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into the air behind it, higher even than the trees that stillgrew by the side of the track. It was rather less of a surpriseto see Benedict climb out of the driving seat.

'You're early!' she said.

'Just as well, by the look of things. Move over, and I'll have alook.'

She did so with a weariness that she could not hide. Sheleaned against the heavy door of the cabin and shut hereyes, easing her back against the hot metal. She was quiteunprepared when suddenly she felt his hands grasp her bythe arms, pulling her close against him.

'Little fool!' he admonished her. 'Get into the Land-Roverand I'll take you back to the house. I suppose you've beenworking all the hours under the sun ever since I left!'

She would have liked to have argued with him, but honestycompelled her to admit he was right. She had worked everydaylight hour that had been available to her.

'You don't understand,' she protested. 'The rains may comeany time now. They're late already. Supposing we haven'tfinished trucking the soil by then? Have you any idea ofwhat these tracks are like when they're wet?'

Though that was a silly question, she thought. He probablyknew much more about it than she did.

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'You don't have to kill yourself in the process! You'll get toEngland just as quickly if you take it gently, my girl. Andyou'll find it much easier if you resign yourself for once todoing as you're told.'

'By you, of course!' she retorted 'By me!'

She tossed up in her mind the wisdom of demanding whyshe should, and decided against it. He looked in the moodto tell her.

'Didn't things go well in the Sudan?' she asked him, givingthe Land-Rover a mutinous look that she didn't quite dare toaddress to him.

'Well enough.'

'Then why are you so cross?'

'Am I?' He smiled slowly. 'You should take a good look atyourself in the glass when we get to the house and you'll,see why! Besides, I was expecting you to be on theverandah, waiting for me.'

'Were you?' She was astonished that he should havethought of such a thing. 'But I didn't expect you for hoursyet!'

'Well, now you can spend the evening in your bed and I'll

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wait on you for a change. Didn't you sleep at all last night?Were you afraid, being in the house on your own?'

'Of course not.'

'I'd prefer the truth, Hero!'

'It is the truth! I'm used to being on my own. I've had a wholeyear to get used to it!' Tears stung the back of her eyes andshe was furious with herself for giving way to such frivolousnonsense. 'I thought you'd be pleased!'

'Well, now you know I'm not! Get in, Hero, and don't wasteany more time or you'll fall down and then I'll have to carryyou, and I somehow think you wouldn't like that very much!'

She got into the Land-Rover as quickly as she could. 'Nowyou're being ridiculous!' she gasped.

'And what are you being?'

She glared at him. 'That's the last time I try to help you! Youcan do it all yourself from now on!'

He slid into the seat behind the steering-wheel. 'Finished?'he asked her.

She nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak.

'Good, because I have something to say to you and I want

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you to listen to every word. Are you listening?'

She nodded again. 'But—'

'Listen! I should have laid down the law a great deal earlier,but now will do as well as later. If you want to help with thework on the farm, we'll work out a schedule that'll fit in witheverything else you have to do-'

'I haven't anything else to do!'

'You have the house to see to and, as my wife, you have myclothes to keep in order as well as your own.' He cast her amocking look. 'That ought to appeal to you, at least, seeingyou have such strong ideas on the subject! Koinange saysyou skipped lunch altogether yesterday and that today youtook a few sandwiches with you that you probably forgot toeat. In future, it will be your job to see that meals appear ontime and that they are eaten properly - whether I'm here ornot! Is that understood?'

'I'm not a child!' she protested.

'How old are you?'

'Twelve years younger than you are,' she said without

thought. 'Hardly a baby!'

'Then don't behave like one!'

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'I don't! I mean, I'm not! I often go without lunch. I don't wantto get fat and it saves going on a diet to miss a meal everynow and then—' The look he gave her brought her up short.'It was lonely after you'd gone,' she said. 'Is that what youwant to hear?'

'If it's the truth.' He was silent for a minute. 'How do youknow how old I am?'

'I just do!'

'Betsy, I suppose?'

Hero found that she didn't like the idea of her friendknowing such a detail about Benedict. She hunched hershoulders, refusing to be drawn, and pretended an interestin the road ahead that she was far from feeling. She wantedto ask him what he had done in the Sudan, but hisforbidding expression made that impossible to her. Shedecided to tackle him about the lorry instead, though eventhat gave her a nervous feeling at the pit of her stomach.

'What made the lorry overheat like that?' she asked.

'Probably a broken fan-belt. Did you think of that?'

She shook her head. 'I'm not mechanically minded. Can youfix it?'

'I expect so. I'll bring it in while you're getting to bed. Tell

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'I expect so. I'll bring it in while you're getting to bed. TellKoinange to bring you a tray of tea in your room and a cupfor me too. I shan't be long.'

She looked at him quickly, half in and half out of the Land-Rover. 'I don't mind coming out on to the verandah,' shesaid.

'You'll get into bed all the same! Don't worry if you're asleepby the time I get back. I'll wake you up for dinner if you are.'

But she was quite determined that she wouldn't sleep at all.It was a blessed relief to be inside the shuttered coolnessof the house, though she wouldn't have admitted that to himeither, and to shed her clothes for the coolness of the newnightie she had finished making. It was even more of arelief to lie on her bed and drink the tea that Koinangebrought to her, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at her,almost as though he welcomed the trouble she had got intowith Benedict.

'Traitor!' Hero mouthed at his back as he left the room.

'U gomvi huleta matata!' he retorted. 'Quarrelling bringstrouble! He is a good man, Memsahib Hero.' 'He thinks heknows everything!'

'He is the bwana mkubwa, the big man!' Koinangeanswered with a shrug. 'Naturally he knows!'

Hero lay back against the pillows, covering herself with a

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sheet in case Benedict should come in as he hadthreatened. She couldn't bring herself to believe that hewouldn't give her any warning, but she was beginning tothink that she might sleep after all.

In fact, she was dozing when he came and she scarcelyheard his soft knock at the door.

'Njoo!' she murmured sleepily.

His head came round the door, followed more slowly by therest of him. 'Good girl!' he said approvingly as he lookeddown at her. 'Why aren't you asleep?' He poured himself acup of tea and looked round for somewhere to sit, finallymaking for the door into the dressing-room.

'Don't go!' she said.

'Don't you want to sleep?'

'I'd rather talk - or read. I'm not accustomed to sleeping inthe middle of the day.'

'You look a good deal better than you did, all the same!' hetold her. He looked at the bare shelf beside her bed. 'Youdon't seem to have much to read,' he said. 'Shall I fetch yousomething?'

She smiled her acceptance, wondering what his choicewould be. He went into the dressing-room, leaving his cup

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on the tray. She could hear him opening a suitcase in theroom next door and then a sudden silence that she couldn'taccount for. In another instant he was back, her copy of hisbook in his hand.

'Well, young woman, I think you have some explaining todo!' he said from the end of her bed.

'I don't see why,' she muttered. 'I was reading it last

night—'

'In my bed?'

'It was the light,' she said, clutching at the first straw thatcame to her. 'I couldn't get mine to work properly.'

Benedict's look told her that he didn't believe a word of it.He took the funnel off the lamp and lit it with his lighter.Together they watched the wick catch and flare into a brightflame. Benedict raised an eyebrow and waited for herexplanation. 'Well, Hero?'

'Koinange—' she began, but she could see as well as hethat it wouldn't do. She wouldn't put it past him to ask theAfrican if he had trimmed the lamp, and he would be sure tosay no.

'I went to the bookshop to show the boys my weddingdress,' she said instead. 'I was curious what the book was

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that you hadn't wanted me to look at before. When I sawyou had written it, I bought it - or at least I borrowed themoney from Betsy to buy it. I'd forgotten all about it! Oh,Benedict, may I have a hundred shillings to repay her at

once? I can get it from the bank next time I go to Isiolo, butI'd rather send it to her straight away.'

He felt in his pocket and handed her the money 'Keep it,' hesaid. 'I'd have given it to you myself if I'd known you reallywanted to read it.' He turned it over to look at thephotograph of himself on the back. 'But why my bed?'

She didn't know how to answer that. 'This one's so big!'

'When you write to Betsy, you'd better ask her to come assoon as she can,' he said dryly. Tell her we both feel in theneed of some company.'

'But she won't come!' Hero stated. 'She never has in all theyears I've known her.'

Benedict's eyes met hers. 'Oh, she'll come,' he said. 'She'llcome running! You don't have to worry about, that!'

'Because you ask her to?' She couldn't quite keep theresentment out of her voice.

'Something like that,' he drawled.

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Hero slept as well that night as she had slept badly the nightbefore. It was cold in the night too, making her wonder if therains might not be coming after all. There were someclouds all along the horizon in the morning, but they weretoo far away to be of much interest, and the sun burned ashotly as ever over the farm.

'What are you going to do today?' Benedict asked her asshe sat down for breakfast.

Hero spread her napkin across her knees with nervousfingers. 'Truck some more topsoil back onto the fields.' Shelooked across the table at him. 'If I may?' she added.

'This morning,' he agreed. 'I'm going to surround the foot ofsome of the trees with piles of stones to try and catch themorning dew for them. The stones should hold the moistureand let some of it get down to the roots.'

'Like they did in the Bible,' Hero said.

'Did they? I didn't know that. I believe they've tried it withsome success in modern Israel. Perhaps that's where theygot the idea from.'

'May I help?' Hero asked, even more cautiously than before.

'I thought you were going to write your letter. You could takeit into Isiolo and post it there. There are some supplies Iwant picked up there some time. You could bring them

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back with you.'

'We get most of our supplies from Nanyuki. They come upfrom Nairobi on the train—'

'I think you'll be able to get most of these things in Isiolo.' Helooked at her thoughtfully across the table. 'Nanyuki is toofar for you to go by yourself.'

'But I've often been!'

'As Hero Kaufman. Now you're Hero Carmichael, I preferyou to have company on a long drive like that.' He smiledslowly. 'I have a fancy to go with you to the Siverbeck Hoteland have a drink in the —World- famous Equator Line Bar",with a foot on either hemisphere.'

'With me?'

'Don't look so surprised. Any pretty girl would do!'

'Then you'd better wait for Betsy to come!' she answeredback.

He put his head on one side, considering the matter. 'Youmight enjoy it more than you think. We could spend a nightat Treetops or the Ark and come back the next day.'

Hero was tempted, but she was aware of the difficulties ofpretending to be a normal husband and wife in such

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circumstances if he was not. There would be people therewho would know her, as they had known her parents beforeher, and how would she explain Benedict away to them, nomatter how sympathetic they were to her want to acquirethe right to live in England.

'We'd have to share a room,' she said.

'Would that be so bad?'

She didn't answer.

'Most husbands and wives do!' he pointed out.

'We're not most people!' The recollection that he had said itwas one of his ambitions to have a son added to Hero'sdiscomfort.

'That didn't stop you sleeping in my bed,' he pointed out insuch reasonable tones that the dawning suspicion that hewas teasing her died almost as soon as it had presenteditself.

'But you weren't there.'

'Would it have made any difference?'

'Of course it would!' She could hardly believe that theconversation was taking place. 'I couldn't —'

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'Oh, Hero, are you sure?' She watched fascinated as herose to his feet and came round the table towards her. 'Areyou quite, quite sure?' he said again.

She had no idea how it came about, but she must havestood up too, for she felt his hands on the small of her backand then his arms were right round her, and he had a handbehind her head, holding her very close to him.

'If you hadn't looked so exhausted, I would have done thisyesterday,' he said in her ear. 'You looked up with thosedamned Greek eyes of yours and you were pleased to seeme, don't pretend you weren't!'

'What if I was?' she whispered. 'I thought you'd fix the

lorry!'

'Did you? Did you indeed? Well, lorries were not on myagenda.'

Her murmured protest was lost against his lips, though shemade little effort to escape, so tightly did he hold her. Heburied his fingers into her hair and brought her mouth backto his, parting her lips with his own, suddenly hard andmasterful, kissing her how and as often as he liked. Heroslipped her arms up round his shoulders. She clung to himknowing that she ought to break free, wondering that thetouch of his hands as they caressed her should commandher response as surely as if she had been some puppet

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who could only move if he pulled the strings.

'Benedict—'

He put a hand slightly over her lips and she kissed thescarred fingers that had always intrigued her.

'Benedict, I can't —'

'Why not?'

'I can't love you!'

He kissed her again with a passion that overwhelmed herbefore letting her go, his hands lightly resting on hershoulders.

'I don't think you know much about love, though, do you,Liebling?' He turned suddenly away from her. 'Write yourletter to Betsy, Hero, and get it posted, I think we'll both beglad to have some other people around for a while. Am Iright?'

She felt very inexperienced and vulnerable. Did he -couldhe possibly know how much she had liked the helplesssensation of being on the receiving end of his kiss? Mustn'the now realize that he could so casually bind her to hiswhim because she couldn't believe that it was more thanthat - with bonds as real as if they had been forged in

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steel?

CHAPTER SEVEN

HERO hadn't understood a word Benedict had said. Shepuzzled over it all morning and could hardly bring herself tocome to the lunch table at all. He couldn't want her to be areal wife to him, because he had told her that he was in lovewith somebody else. A pretty little snake, asleep in the sun,was how he had described this other girl, and he had alsosaid she was rather a darling. Hero couldn't imagine such acombination, but she thought that Benedict might well beattracted to such a mixture, and if he had been referring toBetsy she could understand the attraction. Betsy was prettyenough, and she liked her place in the sun, and there wasalways a spice of danger in her company because if shesaw a warmer place to bask in, she would be up and awaywithout a qualm for her former admirer. If Benedict thoughthe could take her to his hand, drawing the fangs with whichshe was apt to dismiss those who displeased her, thenBenedict was welcome to her!

She wanted to tell him so as they ate their lunch in anuncomfortable silence. She looked up, determined to saysomething to break the endless circle of her thoughts, andfound that he was looking at her in a way that made thewords die on her lips. She pulled uncomfortably at the collarof her shirt, fingering the gold medallion that she alwayswore round her neck.

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'What's the matter?' With a great effort, she made thewords sound prosaic.

That's what I was wondering,' he drawled. 'I thought youwere going to truck topsoil this morning?'

'Yes, I was,' she admitted.

'But you changed your mind?'

She nodded. 'I wrote to Betsy. I asked her to bring Bob withher. I like Bob very much! He's a very kind person.'

'I expect he's found it easy enough to be kind to you,'Benedict replied. 'What have you ever asked of him?'

Hero shrugged her shoulders. Why should she have askedanything of him? She wished Benedict wouldn't look at herin that appraising way. It reminded her that if he chose tothink that he had the right to make an intimate study of herform, she was quite unable to prevent him from doing so.

'He's taken me out to dinner several times! Things like that,'she answered. 'He's - rather special.'

'Not to you, he's not!' Benedict said with a slight smile. 'Youcan't hide behind him, so don't try!'

She lowered her gaze to her plate. 'I don't know what youmean!' she declared.

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'No?' It was outrageous that he should sound amused thatshe might find Bob Andrews attractive. 'I'm trying to tell you,in the nicest possible way,' he went on smoothly, 'that if youplay with fire, you'll get burned. I'll see to that.'

'It's nothing to do with you!' Then, when he said nothing, sheasked in puzzled tones, 'Is it because I'm

your wife?'

'Not entirely.'

'Because if it is, don't you think I might do the same by youbecause you're my husband?' She didn't look at himbecause she was-afraid that he would guess her truefeelings.

'You can try!' he mocked her.

'That's not fair!' she flared.

But he only laughed and changed the subject by asking herif she had seen Lake Nakuru since it had become the firstnational park in Africa established specifically for theprotection of its bird life. For an instant she tried to resistthe bait, to tell him that she didn't consider herselfanswerable to him in any way. More, that she wanted adate for her departure to England there and then, so thatshe could begin to plan for it and work towards it.

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'I saw President Kenyatta open it,' she said. 'It was atremendous thing for the government to have done. Theycollected flamingo feathers from the side of the lake andsold them for pennies to children all over the world.Everybody helped. Everybody who's interested in wildlife,that is.'

'How many flamingoes are there?'

She knew he was deliberately drawing her out, but she hadalready swallowed the hook. She was happy to tell himeverything she knew about the new park.

'More than anywhere else, I think. It's one of the few self-sustaining ecosystems in the world. They don't needanything from outside the lake. The lesser flamingoes liveon a type of blue-green algae, which reproduce themselvesso rapidly they can double their numbers every few hours.The flamingoes return to the lake about fifty tons ofdroppings every day, which decompose and areprocessed by bacteria and sunlight into food for the algae,which are eaten by the flamingoes at the rate of about ahundred and sixty tons a day! The only blot on the horizon isman who's busy polluting the lake!'

'Perhaps you'd rather go there than to Nanyuki?' Benedictsuggested.

Hero stared at him in a tongue-tied silence. She pushed

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her plate away from her and rose to her feet. 'I don't want togo anywhere!' she exclaimed. 'Only to England. I can't

wait to go there!'

He raised his eyebrows. 'I thought you'd changed your mindabout going to England?' he reminded her.

'No! Oh, no! I only meant that I saw that you couldn't take methere at once, but now I don't want to stay a minute longerthan I have to! You can't make me stay! You promised!'

'Because I kissed you?'

'No!'

'Then why?'

How could she possibly tell him that? She took to her heelsand ran out of the house, flying over the ground in her hurryto get away from him. She had not run like that sincechildhood, throwing all caution to the winds and pressingaway from the earth with every step, until she wasbreathless and exhausted but, curiously, more alive thanshe had been for a long, long time, as one sometimes feelsafter a sudden spurt of physical activity.

When she could go no further she sat down, panting, undera thorn tree, her back to its trunk and drawing up her kneesto try to get into the small piece of shadow that was all that

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the tree had to offer. But, although she might have run fromhim, Benedict Carmichael's presence was still with her. Theway he looked and, even more, the strange effect he hadon her refused to go away. It was like trying to jump offone's own shadow to get rid of him - an impracticalimpossibility!

The heat of the midday sun made her drowsy. In a fewminutes, she told herself, he would have left the house andshe would go back and collect her letter to Betsy and startthe long drive into Isiolo. But the few minutes came andwent and she was still sitting there, listening to the endless,high-pitched noise of the bush. Somehow, she decided,she would wring an apology out of him, and then she wouldfeel better. She would put it to him straight that she couldn'tgo on living on the farm with him if she couldn't be sure thattheir relationship would go on being platonic and - and dull!

A crackle in the dry grass made her turn her head, afraid.She didn't know what she had expected to see, but even alion would have been preferable in that moment to BenedictCarmichael!

'What do you want?' she demanded.

He folded his arms across his chest. 'I came to see if youwere going to Isiolo, or if you had changed your mind aboutthat too?'

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Hero hugged her knees, frowning at a long trail of ants thatwere travelling through the dust not far away. She hadn'tnoticed them before and she was extremely glad that theyhad not decided to come her way.

'Of course I'm going to Isiolo!'

'When?'

Her frown deepened. 'As soon as I was sure you'd left

the house!'

'I see,' he said.

'I don't suppose you do.'

He held out his hands to her and, when she put her own intothem, pulled her to her feet. 'Nothing's changed,' he said.

She thought it had! He had changed, for one thing, and hehad changed her for another!

'I don't want to talk about it!' she said.

'Not now,' he agreed. 'But we have to talk about it sometime.' He put a hand under her chin and raised her face tohis. 'You can't run away from your own shadow

all the time we're together!'

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Hero blanched, thinking of her own analogy of how it waslike trying to jump off her shadow to try to escape him. 'No.'

'So what are we going to do about it?'

She shook her head, not knowing what to say. 'Benedict, if Icould only understand you better. But you shut me out ofanything that matters to you. You didn't even tell me whatyou did in the Sudan.'

'I didn't think you'd be interested.'

'Of course I want to know!' She looked at him through herlashes. 'I've never known anyone like you before. I like yourbook!'

He threw back his head and laughed. 'How much of it doyou understand? You're not really impressed because I'vespent most of my life collecting some high- soundingdegrees, are you?'

'Why not?' she said simply.

He stopped laughing, his hands tightening on hershoulders. 'You really do think it's an achievement!'

'Of course I do! I know that much about it. I'm not as silly asyou think!'

'I can hardly call you silly for that!' he said with a touch of

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self-mockery. 'I'm not used to people wanting to know aboutmy work—'

'No, but I do understand some of it. I know going to anagricultural college isn't the same thing, but it helps. Andthen farming here has many of the same ingredients assome of your chapters. You have only to look to see theresults of erosion around here!'

'Then if it isn't my book that's put you in fright, it must be acertain incident between us?'

That was hitting below the belt. 'Of course not!' sheexclaimed.

'There's no of course about it,' he retorted. He wound a curlof her hair around one of his scarred fingers and smiled ather. 'Didn't it occur to you that I might want to exert my rightsas a husband sooner or later?'

She licked her dry lips and shook her head. 'It - it wasn't inthe deal we made.'

'It was always a possibility, though. Surely you knew that?'

'I trusted you—'

'Why? I never said I wouldn't make love to you!' 'You didn'thave to!' she gasped. 'You told me you were in love with B— with someone else!'

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'Nevertheless, you must have expected something of thesort when you thought of marrying me. I am your husband,after all!'

'But not a proper husband!'

He tapped her lightly on the cheek. 'What's the difference?'he asked her.

'I should have thought it was obvious!' she retorted. She putup a hand and pulled his away from her face, looking downat the scars that ran along his fingers. 'I thought you mighthave been in prison when I first met you.' She tried to get offthe subject. 'How did you hurt your hands like that?'

'Why should you be interested?'

'I wondered, that's all. You don't have to tell me if you don'twant to.'

His smile was mocking. 'Why did you marry me if youthought I'd been in prison? Did you think you could reformme?'

That was surprisingly difficult to answer. 'I don't know,' shesaid at last. 'I don't know where I am.' 'But you don't dislikeme anymore?'

She was silent and he ran a finger down her nose, looking

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amused. 'What about the other times?'

Hero swallowed, very conscious of the effect on her of histouch. 'I don't think of you as a husband.'

Benedict gave a gentle push to her chin, catching herbehind the head and kissing her quickly on the lips.'Perhaps I can change your mind about that?' hesuggested.

She couldn't bring herself to answer one way or the other. 'IfI don't get started, the bank will have shut before I get toIsiolo. Please - please don't, Benedict!' 'Afraid?'

'It's your own fault!' she retorted. 'You should never havemarried me, loving somebody else! You might have knownthat you'd lose her and that you couldn't have me! I don'tintend to be an also-ran to anyone!'

He pulled her violently into his arms, stopping her mouthwith a kiss that shook her right down to the soles of her feet.'I don't consider my wife an also-ran either!' he said, 'sotake care what you say!' His mouth came down on hersagain, more gently than before, drawing a shatteringresponse from her that she couldn't begin to hide from him.The trickle of excitement became a flood that submergedall else but the need to return his kiss and to make it easierfor him to explore the curves of her back, her hips, even herbreasts, before reality returned and she tore herself free,

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turning on him with a strength loaned to her by sheer panic.She kicked his shins and slapped his face.

'I won't have you make love to me!'

He had her hands behind her back in a flash, holding herwith a humiliating ease that brought the tears to her eyes.'Won't you indeed?' he mocked her. 'Don't be too rash,Liebling. You might not have any say in the matter, and whatwould you do then?' He bent his head and kissed first oneside of her mouth and then the other. 'Mrs. Carmichael!'

'It isn't fair!' she protested. 'I don't think you love anyone butyourself! You couldn't—' she gulped, not daring to look athim - 'not if you were really in love with Betsy. You're anarcissus!' she ended wildly. 'In love with yourself!'

'How obsessed you are with Betsy,' he observed. He let hergo and she rubbed her wrists, sure that he must have hurther and wondering a little because she couldn't feel anypain.

He made an exasperated sound. 'Little fool!' he muttered.'You ought to be ashamed of yourself! What would yourmother say about your indulging your vulgar curiosity so thatyou imagine you know all about my past love life? Oh yes,you were!' he went on when she looked as if she mightargue the point. 'The only thing you know is that I marriedyou; the rest is mere speculation, and not very flattering to

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me as your husband ! You'll be telling me next how the way Ikiss you compares with the way I kissed some other girl-friend I may have had in the past—' 'Benedict! I wouldn't!'

'You'd better not!' he returned swiftly. 'Nothing about mypast life is any of your concern. Your only interest is how Itreat my wife, here and now, and in giving me the respectyou'd naturally give the man you'd married, and that doesn'tinclude any childish conjectures on how. I

intend to live my life in the future, with or without you. Is thatunderstood?'

She nodded, unable to think of anything to say in her owndefence. 'I think I'll go to Isiolo now,' she brought out in arush.

'Good idea!' he approved. He ruffled her hair with hisfingers. 'And don't look so hurt. You deserved every word ofit, and you know you did!' He shook his head at her. 'I'll betyour mother never took your father to task for what he didaway from her side, so why should I take it from you?'

'But that was different—' she began.

'Was it?' he drawled. 'Well, however it was, I prefer agentle, uncritical wife who's not forever telling me what I canor can't do. That shouldn't be hard for someone with yourGreek blood!'

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'My mother may have been Greek, but I had a very Englishupbringing! And I'm not your wife, not in any way thatmatters.'

'All the more reason to take care you don't provoke me!' Amuscle jerked in his cheek, betraying his amusement. 'It willbe good practice for you, for when you do want to pleaseyour husband! Even English wives prefer to be on goodterms with their menfolk and don't try to antagonize them atevery turn!'

'Indeed?' she said in frosty tones.

He smiled then. 'Yes, indeed.' he nodded. 'It would be amistake for you to imagine that Englishmen demand less oftheir wives than other men. They expect as much in the wayof loving obedience as anyone else, and they are just ascapable of exacting it from recalcitrant wenches who setthemselves up as arbiters of their own destiny! So you'vebeen warned!'

Hero suspected he was teasing her, but she wasn't goingto hang around to find out. As it was, she wasuncomfortably aware that no matter how fast she walkedback to the house, he kept pace with her with a nonchalantease by merely lengthening his stride. He was waiting forher too, when she came out of the house again, clutchingher letter to Betsy in her hand. He opened the door of theLand-Rover for her, giving her a quick hug as she pulled

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herself up by the wheel. 'Drive carefully!' he bade her.

She lifted her chin, refusing to meet the challenge in hiseyes. 'I always do," she told him. 'I prefer being in thedriving seat, and that's where I intend to remain!'

And she set off in a cloud of dust, laughing to herself as shesaw, in the driving mirror, Benedict trying to get the dust outof his face. She had had the last word after all!

Isiolo was the same as ever. The shopkeepers came out oftheir dukas to greet her, full of smiles and inquiries as tohow she was enjoying married life. Even in the pink, BeauGeste fort that was the bank, the teller filled the security bagshe had with her, checking it against the listed instructionsBenedict had given her, with some half-whisperedcomments on her new state in life.

'I see your husband is also paying your wages!' he saidfinally as he handed her back the locked leather bag. 'It isgood to know there is a man again at Uaso. It is no placefor a woman alone.'

Hero could only stare at him in complete bewilderment.'No,' she agreed blankly. 'If the rains come this year,everything will be fine!'

She could hardly wait to get out of the bank to look atBenedict's letter - and there, as large as life, on the list ofthe people he would be paying for trucking the topsoil back

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to the fields, was written her own name, with what seemeda staggering sum of money written after it. It was ridiculous!But she could not deny that it was also rather nice of him.

She did the rest of the shopping in a dream. Usually, shewould have been interested in the curious articles he hadcommissioned her to buy, but this time she accepted all theodd-looking packages, throwing them with abandon intothe back of the Land-Rover. In an hour she had completedall her purchases, including some makeup for herself, andwas driving back down the street, past the Sacred Heart ofJesus Church, past the bank and back along the semi-desert track that would one day go all the way to Ethiopia,though at the moment there was only the sign 'Adisababa1010' to point the way. Even quite recently, one had stillrequired a permit to go any further because of the frontierdispute with Somalia, but now the road barrier, where thenone had signed in and out of the area, was deserted andthere was only the sign to give one pause before one set offfor the desolation of the northern frontier district.

It was hotter than ever. Hero began to wish that she hadstopped for a cup of coffee with the priests at the church.They would have told her all the local news and havepumped her gently about her own affairs, but, because shehad not been married in church and was almost sure thatthey would already have been told about that, she hadavoided seeing them, telling herself she would go backlater with Benedict and leave it to him to

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explain why they had got married in a register office.

Her heart thumped uneasily as she thought about herhusband, and she didn't see the three Turkana warriorsstanding on the road, their spears in their hands, until shewas almost upon them. She braked hard and the Land-Rover skidded to a halt. She wish she was not alone as shewaited for them to come up to her. They had no cattle withthem, nor any of their other possessions, and she couldonly hope they were not a war-party out for vengeance forsome imagined wrong which they would take out on her.

They came quite close, weighing their spears dangerouslyin their right hands. Hero lifted her own hand in a gesture ofpeace, licking her dry lips and hoping they wouldn't scenther fear. She had been told that their sense of smell was asunspoiled as any wild animals and, looking at them, shecould believe it.

'Jokera,' she forced out the traditional Turkana greeting.

Three left hands went slowly into the air, 'Ijok.'

She waited in silence while they stood there looking at her,their eyes as impassive as black stones. Then theygestured towards the Land-Rover, showing her that theywanted to get in. One of them who spoke a little Swahilimade a halting explanation to the effect that they wanted tosee the new bawana mkubwa at the farm. He would rescue

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them from the great drought that was killing their animalsand would shortly kill the weakest of their people.

How had they heard about Benedict already? How didanyone hear anything in Africa? She glanced uneasily attheir spears and nodded her consent to their climbing intothe back of the vehicle. 'I can't promise the bwana will beable to do anything for you,' she warned them.

'He will see us when he sees we come with you!'

She shook her head. 'That doesn't mean he can help

you.'

The Turkana men settled themselves on the back seat,moving her packages on to the floor in front of them. Theymanaged to look very dignified, although it was probablythe first time any of them had ever been in a car. 'He willsee us because you are his wife,' the one who spokeSwahili said, moving his spear a few inches closer to herhead. He used the more derogatory term of mwanamke,implying that the marriage was an irregular one, instead ofthe more usual mke. Hero tried to tell herself that it wasbecause the man's Swahili was not very good, but shecouldn't help wondering if he didn't know as much about hermarriage as she did herself, for she doubted that he hadintended to insult her.

When they reached the farmhouse, she nearly fell out of her

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When they reached the farmhouse, she nearly fell out of herseat in her anxiety to find Benedict, but in the end she didn'thave to, for he stepped off the verandah to meet her,holding her close against his side.

'Visitors?' he asked, his voice so normal that she almostlaughed.

'Turkana,' she whispered.

He gave her a push towards the house. 'Go and wait inside,Liebling. I'll find out what they want and find themsomewhere to spend the night.'

She was surprised to notice that night was almost uponthem. 'But how will you understand what they say?' sheasked him.

He gave her another firm push towards the house. 'I'll

manage!' he said.

She went with a marked reluctance, aware of the superiormasculine smiles the Turkana were giving Benedict. They,too, would be glad to see her go, for their discussions werenot for women's ears - what did women know of valuablecattle? Their ivory lip-plugs which they slipped in and out ofholes made in their lower lips, made their faces look likemasks when she turned to take a last look at them from theverandah. Even their ostrich-feather headdresses andleopard-skin cloaks, which did little to hide their nakedness,

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added to the illusion. Usually they were worn only forceremonial occasions, which showed how serious theywere about their meeting with Benedict. Hero couldn't everremember any of the Turkana coming to the farm beforeand she thought it was another pointer to the importanceBenedict had and which he wore so lightly.

She went into her bedroom, throwing her sweat-damp haton to the bed. The door into the dressing-room was openand she shut it with a bang, locking it for the first time, herheart pounding against her ribs as she did so. After the wayhe had kissed her she thought she was more than justifiedin taking any precautions she could. Supposing, justsupposing, that he should decide to take his revenge forthe way she had thrown the dust up in his face? She hadthe uncomfortable feeling that she might have been unwiseto take such a liberty with a man like Benedict Carmichael.

It took her a long time to change out of her jeans and shirtand into a dress as she liked to do in the evenings. Shetried out her new make-up and spent a good five minutesbrushing the dust out of her hair. Even so, she didn't hearBenedict come into the house, nor did she hear him go intothe dressing-room. But she heard his hand on the knob ofthe door that led into her room and his angry exclamationwhen it didn't give to his touch.

A moment later and he had walked in through the otherdoor and was holding out his hand to her for the key.

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'I prefer it locked,' she exclaimed.

He held his hand a little nearer and she placed the key onhis scarred palm, watching with apprehensive eyes as heunlocked the door and put the key away in a drawer in hisroom.

'But, Benedict, what difference does it make?' shepleaded, running after him to the open doorway.

'There will be no locked doors between us, now or never!Ours may not be the usual kind of marriage, but the doorstays open and I shall walk through it whenever I please.We're man and wife, Hero, as I've been trying to tell you allday, and no wife of mine is going to shut any doors in myface.'

But he didn't mind shutting it in hers, with a finality

that sent her spirits on a long, slow dive to her boots.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Betsy stood on the very edge of the verandah, a look ofdispleasure on her face.

'Heavens, what a dump!' she said.

Hero kept her temper with some difficulty. 'It wasn't alwaysas bad as this. There used to be roses and a whole host of

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other flowers. There was bougainvillea over that arch, forinstance. It was a glorious splash of colour against thesandy backdrop. And nothing can detract from MountKenya. Just look at those foothills, and the

gorgeous greens of the highlands, and the twin peaksshining white with snow! You must be very hard to please ifyou don't find that beautiful.'

'My dear, I simply can't imagine how you've stuck it all theseyears! I'd be a raving lunatic if I had to spend more than aweek or so here. What do you do all day? And who arethose dramatic-looking savages who appear to be living inthat banda over there?'

Hero looked where she was pointing. 'They came to seeBenedict,' she explained. 'They're worried about the effectsof the drought. He was going to take them home today, buthe had to fly down to Nairobi to pick up you and Bobinstead.'

Betsy turned and looked at Hero's serious face. 'I thoughtyou wanted us to come?' she said. 'You soundeddesperate enough for anything in our letter.' 'Of course Iwanted you to come! I've been looking forward to it. But

I wasn't sure you'd come. You never

have before.'

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Betsy's lips curled into a smile. 'Benedict wasn't herebefore!'

Hero blinked. That was what she had been afraid of, shethought wryly. 'You didn't tell me you met him last year. Whynot?'

Betsy threw herself into the nearest chair, pulling her hatwell down over her eyes. 'You wouldn't understand, love.Isn't it enough that I was willing to loan him to you for awhile? When is he taking you to England, by the way?'

'Why don't you ask him?' With an effort, Hero managed tosound bored.

'Poor Hero!' Betsy cut across her thoughts. 'He's too much,isn't he? Never mind, pet, I'm here now, come to rescueyou. You can safely leave Mr. Benedict Carmichael to me!'She gave Hero a faintly malicious grin and closed her eyes.'Did you think I came to see you? Well, I didn't. I came tolook after my interests as far as Benedict is concerned.Remember that, my sweet! The gentleman is strictly on loanas far as you're concerned! I wasn't going to have himescape my net two years running and I knew your farm wasjust the thing to make him stay.' She yawned slowly. 'It's allworked out beautifully!'

Hero managed a yawn as well. 'Time will tell,' she said, asshe set off for the shed where her lorry had been garaged

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overnight.

'You're late!' Benedict grunted as soon as he saw hercoming.

'Am I? Are you waiting for me?'

'I am!' His bright eyes looked her over thoughtfully.

'I thought Betsy might keep you chained to her side all day.'

She shook her head. 'She isn't interested in me,' she toldhim.

'No, probably not,' he agreed.

She peeped at him through her eyelashes. 'Why did youwait for me?' she asked. 'Do you want me to do somethingelse today?'

'No,' he said. 'I wanted to speak to you about somethingelse. You don't learn easily, do you?' He put out a hand andpulled her close against him, running his fingers through herhair as though he liked the feel of her short, dark locks. Heeven smiled when she tried to shake her curls back intosome kind of order. 'You're my wife, and a casual nod tome at the breakfast table isn't what I expect from my wifewhen we have guests here watching everything we do.Don't you think you could bring yourself to offer me a niceaffectionate kiss every now and then?'

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'Certainly not!' Hero said with resolution.

His fingers fastened on the nape of her neck. 'Why not?'

'Why not?' she repeated, feeling quite weak at the knees atthe thought. 'Whatever would Betsy think!' she exclaimed.

'Betsy again,' he observed. 'Those pretty ears of hers mustbe getting quite red.'

'I don't think you're at all kind to use me to make herjealous!'

'I kissed you before she came,' he reminded her. ''Don't youwant to kiss me sometimes now too?'

She pursed up her lips. 'I don't think so!'

He chuckled. 'Only think, Hero? You don't sound very sure.'

She took a deep breath, determined to convince him, costwhat it may, but the words refused to come out as she hadintended. 'I'm not. I mean, I don't like it when you come theheavy husband!'

' You shouldn't make it so irresistible/' Hero digested this insilence. She couldn't see that she had done anything to

make him want to tease her. 'I still don't like it!' shemaintained.

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'Ah, but your likes don't come into it,' he argued with anarrogance that took her breath away. 'The only question iswhether you can bring yourself to do as I ask, or whetherwe're going to have a battle about it. It won't make anydifference in the end,' he added with the same amusedsmile, 'because kiss me you will, every morning and everynight, and sometimes, like now, in between whiles,because that's the way I want it!'

'I won't!' she declared, feeling agitated.

He stroked her cheek with a gentle hand. 'I think you will,' hesaid. 'To please me you will!'

He took a step away from her, his hands dropping to hissides. 'I'm going to take the Turkana home to the other sideof the Samburu Game Reserve,' he said. 'Come with me,Hero, and leave the trucking till this afternoon!'

The smell of a Turkana inside the narrow confines of theaeroplane was pungent and all-embracing. Their badlycured leopard skins mixed their scent with the strong smellof perspiration that emanated from their bodies. Herowatched them doubtfully as they sat down, plainlyuncomfortable in a position they seldom adopted of theirown accord, preferring to stand, or squat, or even to liedown. She thought they might be afraid, travelling for thefirst time in the metal bird that streaked across the sky, but

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they showed no sign of it if they were. They were asimpassive as they had been when she had given them a liftin the Land-Rover. How much easier it would be, shethought, if she could accept whatever fate brought with thesame calm acceptance that they displayed.

'Got them strapped in?' Benedict told her as she went upfront.

'Well, no,' she admitted.

He raised an eyebrow. 'Wouldn't they let you?'

'I didn't try. They don't think very highly, of women - at least,they don't think very highly of me!'

'Oh? What makes you say that?'

'It wasn't anything much,' she said.

'But it was something?'

They don't think I'm a proper wife to you,' she said as calmlyas she could.

'What an interesting conversation you seem to have hadwith them!' he observed. 'I'll have to use you as translatorwhen we get to their encampment. I can't understandanything they say to me!'

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'He was speaking Swahili. He called me your mwanamke!'

'And that's bad?'

The colour rose in her cheeks. 'It's irregular and not verypolite.'

The look in his eyes mocked her and she blushed moredeeply. 'What do you want me to do?' Benedict demanded.'Knock his block off for him?'

'Of course not,' she said. 'But if the opportunity arises, Ithought you might point out to him that I am your mke andnot your mwanamke.'

'And are you?' he asked.

'I'm not either!' she denied hotly. 'But I won't be callednames just because of something they've heard—' Shebroke off. 'I won't be referred to as your mwanamke, that'sall. It isn't proper!'

'What could they have heard?' He stood up, amusement onhis face. 'Why don't you tell them yourself if you feel sostrongly about it? No, no—' as she threatened to go backinto the cabin and tackle them immediately - 'You do it!What else are husbands for?' When he came back he stillseemed amused. He bent over her, snapping the buckleinto place. 'They'd heard you weren't married in the churchin Isiolo, it was nothing more than that! The insult you

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imagined was the fiction of your own guilty conscience!'

Torn between a strong desire to ask him how he hadmanaged to elicit that piece of information from them whenthey had no language in common, and the need to defendherself, she said, 'I don't know what you're talking about!'

'Never mind, my dear,' he replied easily, 'I'll give you plentyof time to work it out in your own way, but don't take toolong - I find it hard going, living in the same house with you!'

It was a bumpy landing across the grey, rough grass of theedge of the desert. Benedict opened the door and let downthe steps while Hero, knowing that she ought to be helpinghim, found that her fingers were suddenly too weak to undoher belt.

'Come on, mwanamke!' Benedict's voice called out to her.

She appeared, pink-faced, from behind the curtain. 'I thinkyou're perfectly horrid!' she told him.

His response was to ruffle her hair. 'I won't tell you what Ithink of you right now! Are you coming, or do you want tostay on board?'

/T/ /

I m coming.

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'Then stay close by, or I may decide to exchange you for afour-legged mule!'

'You can try!' she said coolly.

He was obviously amused. 'Don't you think they'd take you?Come on, Hero, buck up! I can't do without you, as you verywell know, and if you're coming, you can do what you can totranslate for me.'

The compound was a very temporary-looking affair.Fenced with a few sticks, interspersed with reeds, any ofthe animals-could have knocked down the barriers andgained their freedom, but they showed no signs of doingso. The cattle were painfully thin, and the Turkanacomplained they were having to travel further and furthereach day, looking for somewhere for them to graze.Benedict listened to all they had to say with great attention,offering a word of advice here and of caution there. Herofelt proud of him. She sat beside him on the scorchedearth, shielding her nostrils as best she could from the dustand the smell of both men and animals, and was overcomeby the strength of her admiration for the man who was herhusband. He didn't seem to know the awe that other peoplefelt in the presence of the Turkana, but nor did he patronizethem, or think himself in any way superior. He wanted tohelp and help he did, quietly, efficiently, sharing hisknowledge with these untamable nomads on terms thatthey could understand put to use for themselves.

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She wasn't able to help him much by translating his words.Most of what he had to say was beyond her strictly kitchenSwahili and, as none of the Turkana spoke it any betterthan she did, Benedict managed by drawing pictures in thedust and pointing to the different animals he was talkingabout. Strangely, they seemed to understand him very well,and Hero wandered off by herself, seeking the company ofthe women with whom she felt more at home.

She hadn't thought that Benedict would notice her going,but he came after her almost immediately, tucking her handinto his arm with a look that was more than enough toremind her that he had told her to stay close beside him.

'They wouldn't do me any harm!' she protested.

'I'm not prepared to take the risk. If you're bored—'

'Of course I'm not bored!'

'Aren't you? Tell me what you know about these people.Could they be persuaded to grow a few crops?'

She shook her head. 'I shouldn't think so.' She bit her lip,reflecting that before that morning she would have beenquite positive that they would not, but she was beginning tothink that Benedict could persuade anyone to do anything. 'Idon't know much about them. Only what people thoughtyears ago, like their being unable to count above five,

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starting again with the formula five-plus-one, and so on. Oh,and that they're one of the few African peoples who don'tcircumcise their young men.'

'A great help!' he observed. 'How about bribery? They liketobacco and beads, but what about the cowrie shells thewomen are wearing? Is that some kind of currency as itwas down at the coast?'

'No,' Hero said.

'Oh well, you seem quite sure about that!' he told her. 'Ishan't ask you what they do mean—'

'No,' she agreed hastily. 'They symbolize being a woman.Benedict, wouldn't it be wrong to bribe them? The rains arelate, but they may come, and then everything will be allright.'

'For a few months. A few days' rain isn't going to save muchin the long run. The whole trend is for the desert belt tomove south and we have to work in that context. Theproblem won't disappear if we look the other way, my dear.We know it's coming and we have to prepare for it!'

She looked at him, hoping he would not recognize a lookshe could not conceal from her eyes. 'You can't do it allalone!' she exclaimed.

He flicked her nose with his fingers. 'Careful,' he said, 'it

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isn't your admiration I'm seeking!'

He took a tighter hold on her hand and changed the subject.'Have we any use for a donkey, do you think? Because theyhave one for sale—' She stiffened, unsure if he were stillteasing her, but he showed no sign of noticing her reaction.'Wouldn't you like a donkey? It's such a pretty thing.'

'Let's buy it!' she said.

The donkey cost sixty-five shillings. Its body was striped likea faded zebra and its temperament was mournful in theextreme. Hero thought, if it had been human, it was the kindthat would have said we'd have been born with wings ifwe'd been intended to fly. It kicked up its heels the momentit saw the plane and, once inside, it kicked at everything insight. Hero was exhausted after she had tethered it in theaisle between the seats, and battered and bruisedbesides.

'What are you going to call it?' Benedict asked, his armsfolded across his chest as he watched her do battle withthe animal.

'I shall call it after you!'

'Ben?'

Her eyes flashed. 'Fulani!' She tied the last knot and turnedand faced him, her chest heaving with the effort of making

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the beast secure. 'It suits you both!'

'Now that doesn't sound at all ladylike,' he observed.

'I seem to have heard the term somewhere before.'

Doesn't it mean a so-and-so?'

Hero brushed down her dusty cotton trousers. 'I wouldn'treally call you that.'

'Quite right!' he said with amused calm. 'You won't!' Shegave the donkey a final pat and collapsed into her seat upfront, sticking her legs out in front of her to ease her much-tried muscles. 'It's been fun, hasn't it, coming here?' shecommented. 'I wish we didn't have to go home.'

'Better than trucking soil?' he suggested.

'Much better!' she said in a small voice. 'Don't you think?'

Betsy was every bit as furious as Hero had expected her tobe when she heard that Benedict had left her behind thatmorning. Hero had been careful not to tell her, but byevening she forgot to maintain her guard and, when Bobwas asking her about the cones of loose stones thatBenedict had built up round some of the young trees hewanted to preserve, he had also asked her what hadbecome of the three Turkana warriors who had beenhanging about earlier.

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'We flew them home this morning,' Hero answered withoutthought.

'You flew?' Bob grinned at her, impressed.

'Well, not exactly,' Hero admitted. 'But I was there.

I don't mind flying half as much as I thought I would!'

'You didn't think to ask us if we wanted to go too?' Betsy'scool voice came across the verandah.

Hero wiped her suddenly damp palms against the sides ofher cotton trousers. 'I did, as a matter of fact. I thinkBenedict decided there wasn't enough room for us all to g°-'

'Then you could have stayed home and I could have gone!'Betsy shot at her.

Hero muttered something about going along to translate,and Bob hooted with irreverent laughter. ''With yourSwahili?'

'You'd be surprised,' she said.

Benedict came out to join them in the darkness. Hero couldsee the red glow of his cigarette as he took it up to hismouth. He smoked too much, she thought, but then he alsoworked too hard. She had gone out with the lorry this

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worked too hard. She had gone out with the lorry thisafternoon, but after a few trips he had sent her back to thehouse, telling her she had done enough for one day. Hehimself had not come in, though, until their dinner had beenon the table and Koinange had gone to look for him. Shehoped that Betsy would leave him alone now and not go onand on about his not taking her to the Turkana settlement.

'Hero can say a great deal in Swahili,' Benedict said. 'Sheknows the difference between mwanamke — and mke.'Hero was very conscious of his mocking gaze.

'How would you know that, old man?' Bob asked, laughing.

Hero could sense Benedict's dislike of being addressed insuch terms and she tried to change the subject. 'How manymore days before we've finished trucking?'

'None, if I've any say in the matter!' Betsy interposed.'Tomorrow Benedict can take me out, and you two canmind the farm between you. If I'd known it was going to belike this, I'd never have come! Where shall we go?'

Hero couldn't bear to listen any longer. She didn't want toknow where they were going and then she couldn't imaginewhat they would be doing there. She jumped to her feet. 'Ithink I'll go to bed,' she announced. 'It's been a long day.'

'Who's stopping you?' Betsy demanded, annoyed by the

interruption. 'Well, Benedict?'

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But Benedict wasn't listening to her either. He held out ahand and barred Hero's progress across the verandah.

'Haven't you forgotten something, Liebling?' he said, andthe sound of his voice set her heart thundering against herribs.

'I don't think so,' she breathed.

He stood up too and, when he drew on his cigarette, shesaw he was smiling at her. But there was a hint of steel alsoin the touch of his hands and in the way he stubbed out thecigarette beneath his heel. Hero bent her head, determinednot to give way to him.

'Hurry up, Hero,' he advised softly. She couldn't be sure shehadn't dreamed the words. She lifted her face to his andtrembled as his hands tightened on her shoulders.

'Fulani'!' she whispered as his lips took hers.

The playful slap he delivered on her backside made herjump and he took advantage of her confusion to hold hercloser still and kiss not only her lips, but her cheeks andeyes, and lastly her mouth again, stirring her into a deepresponse.

'Well, well,' said Betsy yawning. 'Hero is coming on! Firstshe ditches her best friend and goes flying off into the blue,

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and now we have play-acting too! Next, we'll find shedoesn't want to go to England at all, but plans to remainhere forever and ever. Too bad, honey, if it's true, becausesooner or later you're going to have to learn that nobodygives a damn what you do!'

But Hero only gasped, dodging under Benedict'srestraining arms, and ran blindly into the house. Playacting?If only it had been! It might have been on Benedict's part,but as far as she was concerned, it had brought home toher that it wasn't pride, or admiration, or any of those noblesentiments

she had imagined she felt for him. She was in love with him.

CHAPTER NINE

The flash of lightning lit up the room as clear as daylight.Hero turned over, pulling the bedclothes over her head, andprayed for rain. Never mind that they hadn't finishedtrucking the topsoil back to the fields, never mind anything,if it would only rain. So much more could be done and lifewould come back to the whole district.

Another shattering drum-roll of thunder broke almostdirectly over the house and the lightning became anintermittent but continuous light, refusing to allow her toignore it any longer. She sat up, hugging her knees, andtried to persuade herself that she was not afraid. If she had

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more courage she would have gone out to the stables tosee how the little donkey was faring, but she couldn't facethe journey in the dark and the storm, and the donkey hadthe company of the other animals, whereas she was allalone.

'Hero!'

She shivered, thinking that she had imagined the sound ofher own name. The door between her room and thedressing-room opened slowly. 'Hero,' Benedict said again.'Are you awake?'

He looked solid and reassuring in the flickering light. Shefound herself admiring his powerful shoulders as hecrossed the room to the window, and wondered if he neverwore the top of his pyjamas, or whether it was only becausethe night was so hot that he was in the trousers only.

'Is it going to rain?' she asked him.

'I doubt it. Afraid?'

'Not if it means rain.' She slipped out of bed and joined himat the window. 'I keep telling myself that it's a fabulous sightand I'm lucky to be seeing it. Are you afraid too? Is that whyyou came?'

'No, I find it exciting, nothing more,' he said. 'But I thoughtyou might be in need of company if it went on for much

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longer. Even animals herd together in a thunderstorm!'

Not for the first time she wondered how he came by hisknowledge of the habits of wild animals.

'It's kind of you,' she brought out with difficulty, 'but Betsygets much more upset in storms than I do. Shouldn't you goto her?'

He went on looking out the window. 'Betsy is not my wife,'he said.

'No, but she might expect it.' Flustered, Hero wished shehad thought to put on her dressing-gown for, if she was verymuch aware of her husband's naked torso, the chanceswere that her nightdress was very nearly as revealing. Butwhen she moved away to find a housecoat, shruggingherself into it and tying it tightly round her waist, Benedictwas there before her, straightening the collar for her with alook that frankly bewildered her.

'Are you wearing your new nightie?' he asked her.

For a moment she couldn't remember. 'How did you know?'she demanded when she recalled that she was.

'I recognized the embroidered gathering down the front.What do you call it?'

'Smocking,' she said dryly.

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'It's pretty. It's a shame to cover it up.'

She trembled as he took a fingerhold on her collar. 'Betsywill be furious if you don't go to her!'

He shrugged his shoulders. 'Am I supposed to quake at

the thought?'

The idea was plainly ridiculous.

'Can't you close your ears to her complaints, Liebling?' hecontinued. 'She can't really hurt you, you know.'

'But don't you mind if she's upset?' she insisted. 'She onlycame to be with you! And I can't think why Bob came at all,because it was obvious that she wouldn't have anything todo with him with you here. I thought that was what youwanted!'

'I can live with the situation—'

'But I can't.'

His mouth curled into a smile. 'I thought you wanted herhere?'

'I did,' she admitted. 'But now I don't! I hadn't understoodhow she felt and - so on. It would be different if she wasinterested in the farm, but neither of them are.'

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His hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers playingwith a lock of her dark hair. 'Are you discovering you haven'tas much in common with Betsy as you thought?' heinquired.

'Her family have been very kind to me—'

'But you don't feel as grateful as you should, is that it?'

'Oh, Benedict, how did you know I ought to be grateful toher, for finding you for me, if for nothing else, because Inever would have found anyone myself who would havemarried me and given me his nationality. But I don't thinkshe did it for me after all. She wanted you to stay in Kenya. Ithink she's been more than a little in love with you all along !'

'And that worries you?'

The thunder rolled above their heads. She did not answer.

'Why should you mind if she's in love with me, Hero? Isn'tthat rather a dog in the manger attitude?'

'Yes,' she agreed. 'But she doesn't understand howimportant your work is. Or how much depends on you.

She'd want to come first!' She found his shoulder close toher and buried her face in his neck.

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'But Liebling,' he said in her ear, 'wouldn't you expect tocome first with someone you loved?'

She shook her head. 'I'd be happy to help him - if I could.Betsy doesn't know how important you are. She seems tothink your work is of no more value than her father's, orBob's, or of anyone else she knows!'

He laughed. 'She could be right!'

'I don't think it's anything to laugh about !' she retorted. 'Iexpect the whole household is awake by now. I'll go andmake some cocoa and take it round to them. Will you havesome?'

'No, you won't!' He held out his hand to her, silentlycommanding her to come back to her former position. 'Ifthey want cocoa, they can get it for themselves! You havebetter things to do!'

She cast him a startled glance. 'Benedict—?'

He touched her lips with his own. 'No, not that, sweetheart.'

'Then what?' she faltered.

'Don't you like watching the storm with me? D'you know, Ithink it may rain after all!'

A faint pattering on the roof came at the same moment at

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his words.

'It's raining! It is raining!' Hero escaped, jumping up anddown in her delight. 'Oh, it's gone again!'

'Never mind, it shows that there's some rain about, andthat's more than I hoped for. We'll have to hurry to finishtrucking the soil and put up our barriers to hold it there, incase this is the start of the rains. Maybe this year they willcome!'

'If we work at it, we could finish tomorrow,' Hero put in. 'I'llwork at it all day.'

'Today,' he amended, glancing at his watch. 'Can youmanage by yourself? And don't forget to stop for lunch andtea as well !'

She felt suddenly cold. 'Where will you be?' she asked. 'Areyou taking Betsy out?'

'No, Miss Curiosity, I am not! I'm flying up to the Sudanagain. I'll be back in a couple of days. Meanwhile, do youthink you can cope on your own, or shall I send the lot of youdown to Nairobi for the rest of the week?'

'Who'd do the trucking then?' she objected.

'Hero Carmichael is not the only person on the payroll.'

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Hero remained unconvinced. The work would be skimped,or the lorries would break down, or, if the rains came, theAfricans would be too busy celebrating to come to work atall.

'You wouldn't really banish me to Nairobi, would you?' shesaid.

'Would it seem like banishment? I should have thought youmight welcome a touch of civilization, like a nice hot bath!But you don't have to go if you don't want to—'

'I don't! And how would the donkey get on without me?'

'Well, if you think you can put up with the others for a fewdays by yourself, you're more than welcome. You can get onwith the planting when you've finished trucking the soil.Each field needs to be sown with a different seed to seewhich of the grasses holds the ground together the best.Think you can manage that?'

'Yes,' she assured him, 'I think so. Have we enough seed?'

'I'm hoping so. If you haven't, you could organize a trip toNanyuki and get some more. You ought to be all right as

long as Bob goes along too.'

'I'll wait till you get back,' she murmured. 'Then we can allgo. It would be fun!'

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'We'll see!' he said.

The thunder had grown more distant and the lightning nolonger lit up the room as if it were day. Hero was sorry tosee the storm go. She had no more excuse to stand in thewindow with his arm around her. The unexpected moment

of intimacy would be over and gone forever.

'It didn't rain after all,' she said.

'Only those few drops. Never mind, one can feel the dampin the air and that bodes well on the whole. Are you goingback to bed?'

'It's over,' she said on a sigh.

'Don't you believe it!' he retorted. 'It's only beginning.'

Her smile was rather a watery affair. 'You will be careful inthe Sudan, won't you? You haven't told me yet what you'redoing there.'

'And I'm not going to start now, young lady. Questions,questions! One might almost think you wanted to keep mein your bedroom all night!'

Hero took off her housecoat, folding it neatly, and slid underthe bedclothes. 'But I want to know, Benedict. I want toknow about your hands too!'

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know about your hands too!'

'I thought you'd decided I was scarred by having to break upheavy stones in prison - if they still do that sort of thing inprison!'

'They do here,' she told him. 'I think.'

He bent over the bed and kissed her cheek and then hermouth. 'Sleep tight, Liebling.'

'But you haven't told me!' she protested.

'And spoil my romantic image for you?' he mocked her.'Certainly not! Go to sleep, and be thankful you have

a strong-minded husband! Good night.'

'Good night!' she whispered back.

She was late for breakfast. It was the most extraordinarything, but having decided that she wouldn't sleep a wink allnight, or what was left of it, she had been fast asleep eversince. She had even slept through Koinange bringing in herearly morning tea, for which he would not forgive her if hefound out, so she drank the orange juice down in a singlegulp and dumped most of the tea out of the window, hopingthat he wouldn't examine the flowerbed too closely in thenear future.

Everyone else was already assembled at the table. Hero

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took a cautious look round, caught her husband's eye,flushed scarlet, and dropped a hasty kiss on the side of hischeek.

'Good morning, all!' she said brightly.

'What kept you?' Bob asked. 'Or did the storm disturb youtoo? Betsy vows she spent the whole night under her bed!'

Hero glanced quickly at Benedict and looked as hastilyaway again. 'Were you very frightened?' she asked Betsyas sympathetically as she could.

'Much you care!' that lady drawled. 'From what I could hear,you had someone to hold your hand! But I managed. Ialways get what I want in the end, and that thought consoledme through the most shattering rolls of thunder.'

Hero subsided into her seat. 'Oh, good,' she said.

She could tell, though, that Betsy was even less pleasedwith the way things were going when Benedict told her thathe was flying up to the Sudan. He was sitting back on hischair, tilting it backwards.

'From what I hear,' Bob put in, 'you and your kind are wet-nursing half Africa! Won't do any good, you know! The factof the matter is that what's needed is good management,not a whole lot of idealistic nonsense!'

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Benedict did not seem impressed. 'What about education?'

'Depends what you mean by it,' Bob answered. 'Can't seethat it does much good myself. Mostly, it only teaches howto be dishonest better. You have to be ready for thesebenefits of civilization before they do any good!'

'Are you ready?' Benedict's tone was ironic.

'Well, I should hope so! I've got centuries of civilizationbehind me—'

'Not me!' said Benedict. 'I didn't start with manyadvantages. I came out of the slums of Glasgow. Myparents were killed by a bomb on the munitions factorywhere they worked and I was brought up in a rather famousorphanage.'

Hero smiled back at him, forgetting all about Betsy andBob. 'Were you a member of a teenage gang? Did youfight in the streets with knives?' That would for count for thescars on his hands, she thought.

He glanced instinctively down at his hands and once againhis smile at her was mocking as he replied, 'Nothing soexciting, I'm afraid, my dear. I got caught in a situation oncewhere I had to pull someone out of a hot aeroplane. I'll tellyou all about it sometime,' he promised. 'Are you coming tosee me off? I'll just go and throw a few things into a suitcaseand then I'll be out to the plane.'

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Bob watched him go. 'Very smooth!' he commented.

'What do you mean?' Hero demanded.

'Well, he never actually answered my point about education,did he?'

'The point was that everyone starts from scratch, from whatthey have inside themselves,' Hero said.

Bob gave her a look of disgust. 'I hate people going onabout their intellectual brilliance and how they're going tosave the world! We all know how the Sahara came intobeing. The African keeps goats, and the goats eat out theland and turn it into desert—'

'It wasn't that at all!' Hero declared. 'It was because thepolarization of the world slipped. At one time the SouthPole was approximately where Johannesburg is today.'

'Because the radiation from the sun has dropped a coupleof degrees, making it cooler at the poles—'

'And what does that mean? I don't believe a word of it!'

'Benedict says—'

'Give it a rest, dear,' Betsy advised. 'Who cares what thedesert is doing?'

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'But it's important!' Hero turned on her. 'It's creeping southat the rate of nine kilometres a year. If people like Benedictcan do something about it, they ought to be treated asheroes! Wellington and Napoleon only killed people -Benedict may save the lives of thousands!'

Betsy's voice remained kind, but her meaning wasunmistakable. 'A little bit of hero-worship never did anyharm, pet, but don't mistake it for undying love, will you?That's my department!'

Bob gave them both a puzzled look. 'Anyone with half aneye can see that Hero's head-over-heels in love with thefellow! Why should you care, Betsy?'

Betsy opened her eyes very wide. 'I? Because I didn't haveto sell myself to gain a nationality! And because Benedict isstrictly on loan to Hero - an old school tie and all thatboloney! - but we both know Benedict is mine. Don't we,darling? I'm not the possessive type,' Betsy went on, hereyes hard and bright with anger. 'I don't object to a bit ofplay-acting, such as we were treated to last night, but don'tgo too far, sweetie. The limits of friendship can bestretched too far - especially my friendship! I like you, Hero,and I don't often like my own sex, but remember that I candestroy you any time I choose - and I don't like competition.That's the most bearable thing about you, I've alwaysthought. You've never competed with me for anything Iwanted and it's too late for you to start now!'

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Bob muttered something under his breath. 'You're going toofar, Betsy!' he added uncomfortably.

'For whom?' Betsy retorted.

'For me, for one!' he snapped back. 'I'd say most of theplay-acting is being done by you !'

Betsy shrugged. 'Who cares what you say, Bob? Hero and Iunderstand each other very well. If you feel so involved andsorry for her, you should have married her yourself!'

Hero sprang to her feet. 'Stop it both of you! I think it'shorrid to talk about Benedict like that! He won't stand foryou telling him what to do, any more than he pays anyattention to what I say, and he's quite right! So put that inyour pipe and smoke it!' She glared round the table, andthen ran from the room, not at all sure that she hadn't madea fool of herself again. What need had Benedict of herdefence?

She watched Benedict as he refuelled the plane andwished she were as certain as she had sounded that hewouldn't allow Betsy to crack the whip round his ears.

If he loved her, he might think she was worth anything, evenhis career, but Hero couldn't bring herself to believe that.No matter how much he loved a woman, she would have tofollow him in his chosen career.

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'Are you sure you don't want to go to Nairobi for a few

days?' he called down to her.

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. 'Bob willprobably help with the planting,' she managed at last. 'He'sa very nice person really.'

'He seems to have a lot of second-hand ideas to grow outof,' Benedict commented.

Hero looked up at him, suddenly curious. 'Is that what youthink about me too?' she asked him,

'Do you care what I think?'

She nodded. 'Of course I do!'

He jumped down beside her, the nozzle of the pump in hishand. He stowed it away on the fuel tank and began to pushthe container into the boma he was using as a hangar forthe aeroplane. Hero ran after him, eyeing him anxiously.'Well?' she prompted him.

'I think you'll do,' he said.

'But that's no answer! I want to know!'

He put out a hand and touched her cheek. 'I think you're fartoo credulous where the people you love are concerned,

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Liebling/

He turned away, making sure that the fuel tank wasn'tleaking and that everything was secure before he shut thedoor.

The propellers flared into life. 'When will you be back?' sheshouted above their roar.

'Heaven knows! As soon as I can!' he shouted back.

She pulled the chocks clear of the wheels, the wind from thepropellers whipping her hair against her face and into hereyes. It was that that made her feel like crying and shewiped her face angrily with the backs of her hands. Shewould not be so silly as to weep every time he went awayfrom her! If she did, what would she

do when he went forever? There would be no bearing it!

Benedict lifted his hand and waved to her and she hopedpassionately that he couldn't see the tell-tale trail of tears onher face. She waved back, fighting the misery that hadenclosed her spirits. The plane taxied forward to the edgeof the airstrip her father had cut out of the bare earth, turnedand began its run through the red dust. A second later itrose and circled in a wide arc into the blue

sky.

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He was gone.

CHAPTER TEN

Mount Kenya lay behind a pall of mist. Hero lookedhopefully up into the sky above her, but it remained as blueand as clear as ever. True, some small clouds werescudding along the line of the horizon, but they didn't looklike rain clouds and, in any case, they were going in thewrong direction.

Hero rubbed her hands together and sighed. The last twodays had crawled by and her reluctance to go back to thehouse and make some effort to entertain Betsy and Bobgrew every minute that passed. They did nothing butquarrel. Betsy was plainly bored, and Bob was very littlebetter, sulking over Betsy's lack of interest and over Hero'slong absences, working on the farm.

The best thing that could be said about the two days wasthe way the work had gone. The last of the topsoil had beentrucked back to the fields, the barricades to hold the earthin place had been finished, and three of the fields they hadmade were planted with the different grasses that Benedictwanted to try out. That should bring a glint of approval toBenedict's eyes - if he would only come and see all thatthey had done! And there had been Fulani, the donkey.Even in a couple of days he looked less leggy and more athome in his stable than he had on the wide open spaces of

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the plains. He was learning to recognize Hero's step too,and came running to the door to greet her. Hero couldhardly wait to show Benedict that.

Betsy was alone on the verandah when Hero decided thatshe couldn't put off the moment of going in and changing fordinner any longer. She was wearing a nylon negligee andvery little else.

'Bob may be here at any moment,' Hero pointed out, 'orKoinange bringing out the lamps. We're going to put up thenets so that we can eat out here. It will make a change foryou.'

'And have the insects battering themselves to death atevery mouthful?' Betsy sneered. 'You do think of the jolliestentertainments for us!'

Hero hesitated. 'If you'd rather eat inside — ' 'Oh, forheaven's sake, Hero, do as you damned well please!'

Hero looked down at her hands, wondering if it would bebetter to try and reshape the nails, or to give them a goodscrub and leave it at that. 'Betsy,' she said slowly, 'wouldyou like to go back to Nairobi?'

'Would I? Honey, you'll never know how much! I knew thatlife on the farm would never be my scene, but this is beyondanything I could have imagined! To think your parents livedtheir whole lives here! No wonder they turned into such

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peculiar people. It's enough to turn the sanest person madwith boredom!' 'You'd find it more interesting if you learnedsomething about the experiments Benedict wants to tryhere.'

'Spare me that!' Betsy retorted. 'I shan't give Benedict thetime to see the results, if you want to know, so why should Iwaste my time on them?'

'But they're very interesting — '

'Look, Hero, you may worship the ground he walks on, but Idon't! All I want from him is a swinging life in Nairobi orMombasa, not to be buried alive up here! And what thisbaby wants, this baby gets!'

'Not with Benedict!'

Betsy stared at her with open amazement. 'What do youmean, not with Benedict? Are you trying to tell me that youwon't give him up?'

Hero was strongly tempted to tell her exactly that, but shewould be no more able to divert Benedict from his chosencourse than Betsy would. 'Of course not! Only Benedict isn'tthe biddable person you seem to imagine he is. Please,Betsy, try and interest yourself in what he's doing. He'lladmire you all the more for it!' 'Doesn't he admire meenough as it is?'

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'He may do, but he won't give in to you over the way he liveshis life. I don't think you'd like him much if he did!'

'Possibly not,' Betsy drawled. 'Okay, darling, you win. Youcan tell me all about the wonders he's doing tomorrow andthen next time he flies off somewhere, I'll see him off andwish him well. How's that?'

'That'll be fine!' Hero managed to say with an unnaturalbrightness, and made a dash through the house into herbedroom.

She sat on the edge of her bed, wriggling her feet out of hercotton trousers and thinking how much she would like tohave a bath. Her feet were stained red with the dust and, tryas she might to get them clean in the bowl of water that washer washing ration, they remained obstinately ingrainedand disreputable. Oh well, she thought, what did it reallymatter? When the planting was finished and she was a ladyof leisure again, she would soak them until they jolly well didcome clean in one of those lotions that advertisedthemselves for the purpose. The contrast, though, betweenher own sunburnt face and limbs and Betsy's gleamingwhiteness was something she could do nothing about. Hownice it would be, she thought, looking at herself dispiritedlyin the looking-glass, if Benedict would suddenly prefersomeone dark-eyed and as brown as a berry, instead ofthe pink and white prettiness of someone like Betsy!

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Outside, she could hear Koinange clattering round,registering his disapproval at having to-put up the nettedscreens round the verandah. He would need help, Heroknew, and hoped that Bob would be around to aid inslotting the pieces into their proper places. Obviously,however, he was not, for a few seconds later Koinangeknocked on her door and, without waiting for Hero to openit to him, began a long complaint as to how he could not beexpected to put up the screens by himself.

'I'm coming, Koinange,' she assured him. 'Where's BwanaAndrews?'

The African sniffed. 'He is not on the verandah.'

'I know that!' Hero retorted, exasperated. 'But where is he?He must be somewhere!'

'Ndiyo, memsahib.'

'What do you mean, yes? Where is he?'

Koinange sniffed again. 'He is in his room, mem-sahib,' hetold her, very much on his dignity.

'Right,' said Hero. She advanced down the corridor, herskirts rustling, to her old room and banged on the door withher open hand. The only answer was a faint groan. 'What'sthe matter with him?' she demanded of Koinange, who wasreluctantly following in his train.

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'He not feeling well,' Koinange murmured. 'Leave

him, Memsahib Hero. He will feel better shortly.'

But Hero was more concerned than ever. There were fewfacilities for anyone to be seriously ill on the farm and it wasa long, long drive to Nanyuki and the nearest properhospital.

'Bob!' she called out. 'May I come in?'

'If you must!' Bob discouraged her.

She opened the door a few inches, conscious ofKoinange's rigid disapproval behind her back. Bob waslying fully dressed on his bed, grey in the face, and with acurious disconnected look about the eyes.

'What's the matter?' Hero asked, her anxiety getting thebetter of hen 'Oh, Bob, are you running a temperature? Youmight have malaria, I suppose, but you haven't been downto the coast recently, have you? You look awful!'

'Merely a trifle under the weather!' Bob moaned. 'There'snothing to do here, that's the trouble! And you don't keep somuch as a bottle of whisky, Hero! What does Benedict do,or has he gone teetotal like you?'

Hero flushed a little. 'I'm not teetotal,' she denied. 'I drink

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wine.'

'Big deal! Is that all you allow Benedict?'

'Of course not!' she disclaimed. 'I meant to buy somewhisky the last time I went to Isiolo, but it wasn't on the listand I forgot. You could have slipped in and bought some ifyou'd wanted to.'

'Thanks very much! I thought I'd make do with some ofKoinange's malwa, not being on speaking terms with Betsytoday, any more than I was yesterday, or the day before,and it's got a kick like a

mule! If you love me, Hero, you'll leave me to die in peace.'

'Well, I don't!' Hero declared. 'It's just as well my father isn'there, let me tell you. He'd have had something to say toyou.'

Bob made a face at her. 'My dear girl, there's nothing veryheinous —'

'I'm not your dear girl.'

'Poor little Hero! You're nobody's dear girl, are you? That'sthe trouble with both of us. You want Benedict, and I wantBetsy, and neither of them gives us so much as a secondglance!'

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Hero stood up very straight, with her head in the air, quiteunable to keep the gleam out of her eye. 'I wouldn't say that,'she said carefully. 'Benedict would always have a care forhis wife.'

'Want to bet?

She considered that for a moment. She had been broughtup to believe that betting was very nearly as bad as beingdrunk and disorderly in someone else's house. 'Howmuch?' she asked with a quiver of nervousness, 'Ten bob?'

'Oh yes!' she exclaimed. 'I could manage that!' 'You're on,'said Bob. 'If Benedict objects to my making a pass at youwhen he gets back you'll be ten shillings the richer! But hewon't! Haven't you seen the way Betsy looks at him. Whatman could resist that invitation? Not Benedict, not me, notanyone!'

Hero gave him an uncertain look. 'You won't tell Betsy, willyou?'

'Wouldn't listen to me if I did!'

'She might,' Hero went on worrying. 'I don't think I will have abet with you after all, Bob, if you don't mind. Benedictwouldn't like it and - and I'd rather not.'

'Running away!' he nodded. 'Very wise. I'm bound to winwith Betsy around. Worse luck!'

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'Then you won't make a pass at me?'

He grinned at her, pulling himself up into a sitting position.'You'll never get your man, young Hero! You play fair, andyou're everything that ought to make even Benedict thinktwice about hanging on to you, but he won't. He's hookedon Betsy like the rest of us.' Hero didn't want to listen anymore. She set her jaw at a stubborn angle and forced asuperior smile to her face. 'Koinange wants help with thenetting screens on the verandah. Do you feel well enough,or shall I help myself?'

'Oh, I'll do it,' Bob groaned. 'I'll do it! I can see by the light inyour eye that I've jolly well got to do it or I shan't get anydinner! There are times, Hero Kaufman, when you're theliving image of your mother!'

Hero swung round on her heel, her skirts swishing againsther legs. 'It's Hero Carmichael now,' she reminded him. 'I'mpractically as British as you are!'

The next day began badly. The clouds that had coveredMount Kenya the day before had evaporated, leaving thetwin peaks revealed in majesty, and destroying Hero'shopes that they presaged the coming rains. If they didn'tcome soon, they would know that they were not comingagain that year, and then the prospect for the northerlyregions would be bleak indeed.

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Betsy came to breakfast in the negligee she had beenwearing the evening before, her hair hanging down herback. Hero looked at her in surprise.

'I thought you were coming round the farm?' she remindedher.

'Oh, so I was! Sorry, pet, I forgot all about it. Never mind, Iexpect it can get along without me.' 'I'll wait for you,' Herooffered.

'No, don't do that!' Betsy said sharply. 'It will take me agesto get dressed and I hate having to hurry. You go withoutme. You can easily show me round this afternoon - or sometime, can't you?'

'Benedict will be back soon,' Hero argued with a stubbornlook. 'He won't think you very interested if you haven'tlooked at the new fields by then, and I thought that was theidea!'

'Your idea, sweetie, not mine!'

Hero sighed. 'Oh, very well,' she gave in. 'If you won't come,you won't!'

Betsy gave her a dazzling smile. 'Don't let me stop you fromdoing whatever you have to do, though. It's dreary enoughhere without having your disapproving face looking at meall day!'

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Hero was only too glad to go. She swallowed down hercoffee as quickly as she could and went to inquire from Bobif he was feeling better. At least he seemed cheerfulenough for once.

'I think I'll take up your suggestion and run myself into Isiolo,young Hero. Coming?'

She shook her head. 'Not this morning. This morning I wantto finish sowing the far field. If you're going to take theLand-Rover, could you give me a lift out there first? Themen are there already, but they'll need some more seed.'

'Anything to oblige,' Bob agreed grandly. 'If you're still at itwhen I come back, I might give you a hand.'

'Thanks very much!' Hero laughed back at him.

She went out to the nearby boma where the seed wasstored and checked out the seed against the plan Benedicthad drawn up, labelling each type with care. Some of thesacks were old and leaking a little and she spent the timeshe was waiting for Bob to have his breakfast, sewing upthe larger holes with string. But when she had finished andBob had still not appeared, she went back up to the houseto find him. There was no sign of him anywhere.

Koinange came out of the kitchen, his white apron lookingrather the worse for wear. If the rains would only come,

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Hero thought, they could all get clean, instead of making dofor a few more days, and then a few more, as they hadbeen recently.

'Tell Bwana Andrews that I've taken the Land-Rover over tothe boma to load up the seed, will you, Koinange?'

The African assented, glaring down the hall at Bob's closeddoor. 'When do they go home?' he asked hen 'They makemuch work for all of us!'

Hero smiled at him. 'Yes, don't they?' she said. She felt verymuch more cheerful as she went back to the boma. TheLand-Rover was going well, helped on no doubt byBenedict's adjustment of the driving seat to fit her legmeasurement rather than his. It meant that she could sitback and drive and she wondered why she had neverthought of adjusting it for herself. It was funny how menthought of these things at once, whereas she would havegone on happily enough, suffering the minor inconvenienceof years before she would have thought of seeing if the seatmoved back and forth.

The sacks of seed were heavy and she was hard put to it tolift them high enough to get them on to the back of theLand-Rover. When she had managed it, she was hot andsticky and the dust from the grass-seed stuck to her,irritating her skin. There was still no sign of Bob and shedecided to go back to the house once again to hurry him

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up.

A sweet, damp smell of pine greeted her nostrils as shestepped into the hall, and it was a minute or two before shecould think what it was. Then it came to her, slowly, almostagainst her will, so reluctant was she to believe it.Someone was having a bath!

'Bob!' she roared at the top of her lungs. 'Bob, where areyou?'

He emerged from her old bedroom, a sheepish smile onhis face. 'Sorry, old thing, I didn't realize you were in ahurry!'

She gave him a thunderous look and stalked down the hall,flinging open the bathroom door. A cloud of hot steamcame gushing out to meet her, fragrant and enticing.

'Hero, really!' Betsy's light voice broke the silence as Herostood in the doorway, unable to believe her eyes. 'Eithercome in, or go out!'

'Betsy, how could you?' Hero gasped.

'How could I what?'

'You know how short of water we are! If you were going tohave a bath, you could have told us, and we could have allused the same water —'

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'Not very hygienic, darling!'

'Well, we could have had a couple of inches between us.And the water could have been used afterwards on thevegetable garden.'

'Heaven forbid!' said Betsy, making a face. 'How

was I to know that I couldn't even have a bath without

incurring your displeasure? You haven't said anythingbefore.'

'Before?' Hero almost shouted. 'You mean you've had abath before?'

'Every day. Why not?'

Hero finally lost her temper.

'You are the most selfish person I've ever come across!'she trounced Betsy. 'But that's it! I've stood as much as I'mgoing to from you - and from Bob too! You can both goback to Nairobi today—'

'And what will Benedict say about that?' Betsy drawled,unmoved.

'I don't care what he says! I'll drive you to Nanyuki as soonas you've packed your things, and that's all. You know how

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short of water we are! That people are dying of thirstalready in the Northern Frontier District, and yet you can'teven do without a bath! Ruining the water for anything elseby putting in handfuls of bath-salts! And putting in as muchwater as the bath

will hold.'

'You're only jealous,' Betsy smiled at her, busily soaping herneck. 'You look as though you could do with a bath yourself!'

Hero glared at her, speechless with rage. 'I'll go and packfor you,' she said, when she could trust herself to sayanything.

'Do, darling!' Betsy cooed. 'But don't think that I won't havea great deal to say to Benedict about this!'

'So will I!' Hero retorted.

She turned on her heel and slammed the door behind her,coming face to face with Bob who was staring at her,overcome with a surprised admiration that did much torestore her good temper and make

her want to laugh.

'You don't mean it, do you?' he asked her.

'Every word!'

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He laughed out loud. 'I didn't think you had it in you! Are youturning me out too?'

With her temper dying away, Hero was already beginningto have cold feet that she might have overreached herself.'Bob, you'll have to go with her. She won't go alone and Ican't - I won't have her here any longer!'

'You don't have to apologise to me.' he assured her. 'I'monly too eager to get Betsy away from that husband ofyours and back into my sphere of influence. I never wouldhave come in the first place, if she hadn't begged me to.Said I'd be company for her, that I could get to know herbetter. Fat chance I've had of that!'

Hero attempted a brief smile. 'It wasn't a very good idea,asking you here, was it?'

'I can't think why you did!' Bob said with brotherly

frankness.

Hero threaded her fingers together. 'It was all so difficult. Ithought it would be easier with other people about, andBenedict seemed to want me to ask Betsy. And now I'mgoing to start Betsy's packing!'

'Okay. It won't take me a few minutes to get my geartogether.' He looked at her curiously. 'Are you really figuring

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on driving us to Nanyuki?'

'Yes! Please God, Benedict doesn't get home before I do.He said it was too far for me to go on my own — '

'So it is!' Bob said sagely.

'Well, it can't be helped. We're going, and that's that.'

Packing Betsy's clothes took longer than she hadexpected. Nothing was where she expected it to be, andeverything looked as though it could do with a good ironand mostly a good wash as well. Hero bundled them alltogether into the suitcase and was in the process ofcollecting up the various jars and tubes of makeup on thedressing-table, when Betsy came wafting in from thebathroom on a cloud of pine bath-salts and scented soap.

'What a pain in the neck you are!' she complained. 'I don'tfeel like driving all the way to Nanyuki.'

'Too bad!' said Hero.

Betsy sat on the end of the bed and leaned back on herhands, looking down lovingly at her own body. 'Don't youthink you're bucking for a set-down?' she

asked, pleasantly enough. 'And Benedict is the right personto give it to you too. How are you going to explain youractions to him?'

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Hero forbore to answer. She pulled open all the drawers tomake sure they were empty, and shut them again, making agreat deal of noise to discourage Betsy from sayinganything further. When she had made sure that nothing hadbeen left behind, she stood up straight and said, 'I'm goingto take the seed out to the men. I'll be back in half an hour.'

'And what if I'm not ready?' Betsy asked. She lay back in aninsolent attitude and smiled up at Hero. 'What then?'

'I'll have your luggage taken out,' Hero said flatly. She wentout of the room, taking a deep breath to calm her anger. Itwas lucky, she thought, that she had something to do. If shehad had to wait round the house, waiting for Betsy to getherself together, she would have gone out of her mind infive minutes, let alone half an hour!

She sprang into the driving-seat of the Land-Rover anddrove like a lunatic out to the far field. The men came to theedge of the field to talk to her, helping her unload most ofthe seed and stacking it neatly by the side of the murramtrack that went between the new fields.

'We'll have it seeded today,' they promised her.

'Good,' she responded. 'The Bwana Mkubwa will bepleased.'

The Africans grinned. 'He'll be home soon!' they teased her,

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exchanging amused smiles at her obvious embarrassment.'You won't work so hard when he is

home again!'

She smiled back at them. 'I shan't be working today either,'she told them. 'Will you be able to manage without me?'

They assured her that they could. They replaced some ofthe samples of seed in the back of the Land-Rover andstood and watched her as she turned the vehicle in thenarrow track and drove off back to the house.

Much to her surprise both Bob and Betsy were waiting forher on the verandah; Bob looking bluff and cheerful, Betsyin a cold rage that Hero recognized from their schooldays.

'Are you ready?' she asked them.

'I'll put the luggage in,' Bob offered.

Hero climbed into the back of the Land-Rover and receivedthe suitcases as he handed them up to her. Crouchedbetween the seats at the back, she thought she heard thesound of an aeroplane's engines, but when she looked upthere was nothing to be seen.

'Did you hear a plane?' she asked Bob.

'You've got that husband of yours on your brain!' he laughed

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at her.

'I thought it might be he,' she admitted. 'I wish he'd come!'

Bob patted her kindly on the shoulder. 'Shows what a lame-brain you are, my dear! Betsy will tell him a fine tale assoon as she sees him, and then where will you be?'

Hero preferred not to think about it. She finished stowingaway the luggage and took her seat behind the steering-wheel. Bob got into the centre seat, allowing

Betsy to sit on his other side by the window. Hero let in theclutch, sniffing madly to hold back the tears that threatenedto blind her completely. And then she saw him, walking upthe track towards them, and she was frozen in her seat,unable to move hand or foot.

'Look out!' Bob exclaimed. He pulled on the steering-wheelso that they narrowly missed the approaching Benedict,and yelled at Hero to put on the break. Belatedly, she didso, and Betsy hit her head on the windscreen, letting forth astream of abuse.

Hero jumped out on to the road and then, a sudden feelingof awkwardness taking over, she backed away from himuntil her back came up against the hot metal of the Land-Rover.

'Where are you going?' he asked pleasantly enough.

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Bob climbed down beside her and put a protective armround her shoulders. 'We thought we'd go back to Nairobi,'he explained. 'We're just setting off for Nanyuki.'

Benedict looked at Hero. 'You too?' he asked her.

Bob's arm tightened around her. He turned his head

and deliberately kissed Hero on the cheek. 'Why

shouldn't she prefer a spell of my society? There's

nothing much for her here!' he declared.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Hero had never yet seen Benedict lose his self-control. Shedid not do so now. But there was a steely glint in his eyesas they met her own. 'There's something all three of youwould do well to understand,' he said. 'My wife's kissesbelong to me - all of them - and I don't care for any of themgetting mislaid along the way. Bob, you can pack yourbags.' He turned again to Hero. 'What's all this about goingto Nanyuki?'

'I was coming straight back!' she blurted out, rememberingthat he had told her not to drive so far on her own and thathe would undoubtedly remember that he had too. 'Therewas no other way. They're catching the night train to

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Nairobi.'

Betsy unrolled herself languidly from her seat. 'Hero hasordered us both off your land. It's too ridiculous really, butnow that you're here, perhaps you can wring an apology outof her and then we can all go back to the house!'

Hero bit her lip. 'Please, Benedict!' she whispered.

'That isn't what I'm angry with you about.'

'Isn't it?'

'Why didn't you let them take the Land-Rover and leave it atNanyuki? I don't like to think of your driving miles byyourself, no matter how well you know the road.'

'But we need the Land-Rover!' she said.

'Suppose I said I need you more?' he said.

Hero shook her head, her mouth dry. 'I'm sorry,' shemurmured.

'Just as well! But don't think you'll always get off so lightly. Iwon't have you putting yourself into unnecessary danger, nomatter what good reasons you think you have for doing so!'

She went red and then very white. 'Benedict, are you

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- telling me something?' she asked him.

'I haven't started yet!' he said.

'Excuse me for breathing!' Betsy interjected. 'They're nicepeople, so they probably will,' Bob told her. 'It's a pity youcalled the bet off, Hero, or you'd be ten bob the richer! Itlooks as though we all underrated you!' He saw the keenlook Benedict was giving him and brushed his handstogether. 'There was no harm in it,' he said. 'It's not my fault,if Hero thought you had other plans which didn't include her.Why, she's spent the whole time you were away trying tomake Betsy take an interest in the farm, and a morepointless waste of time than that is hard to find!'

Betsy's laugh rang out. 'The truth is that Hero couldn'tcontain her jealousy of me a moment longer. Rather sweet,don't you think? But to make such a fuss about my naturaldesire to keep clean in this barbaric place was takingthings a bit far! Nobody was stopping her from having abath - if she had wanted one. I really can't stand people whomartyr themselves for some ridiculous cause and then getcross when everyone else doesn't do the same! When Ithink of all I've done for you, Hero Kaufman—'

'Hero Carmichael!' said Benedict.

'Oh, for heaven's sake!' Betsy turned on them. 'You're justas bad as each other. Let's go to Nanyuki, if we're going!'

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Hero got into the back of the Land-Rover, allowing theothers to sit in the front together. Benedict didn't even lookat her as he took his place behind the steering-wheel, buthe saw her all right when she made to get out at the otherend. He held out his hand to her and helped her down.

'I'm sorry if you think I was making a fuss about nothing,' shesaid.

'I didn't say that.'

'No, but I'm sorry all the same. The thing was, I thought I'dbe back before you came home — '

'I see,' he said. 'It's all right if you drive to Nanyuki

behind my back and I don't know about it, is that it.'

'No, I didn't mean that! Only I didn't think you'd be pleasedto find Betsy gone.'

'I gathered that!' he agreed, doing nothing to help her out.

'Don't you mind after all?' she asked.

But Benedict was no longer looking at her. He was briskand businesslike and she was afraid to question himfurther.

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'Those trousers won't do!' he surprised her by saying.'Change into a dress, Hero. Something soft and pretty. Andwear a hat, will you? If you must, you can even have a bathyourself! I flew through a great bank of rain-clouds on theway here. They can't all be so unkind as to go somewhereelse! Have your bath, and leave me to worry about theconsequences!'

'But where are we going?' she cried out.

'Does it matter? I thought we'd drive with the others as faras Isiolo. I have some business to do there and I thoughtyou might like to come with me.'

'Oh yes! Yes, I would. But I don't have to change for that.'

'No,' he agreed. 'You have to change to please me!'

There didn't seem to be any answer to that. Hero hurriedinto the house as fast as she could go, half scared that hemight change his mind and leave her behind. She pulledopen her wardrobe and stared at her few dresses,wondering which of them would meet most closelyBenedict's requirements. She chose one that was a brightpink, covered with white broderie anglaise, that her motherhad made for her when she had graduated from college. Ifshe sat on a dust-sheet, she thought, she could keep itreasonably clean between there and Isiolo, and even if shecouldn't, it was the only dress she had that she would have

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described as soft and pretty. It had a wide-brimmed hat togo with it too, and pink cotton gloves, and pink high-heeledshoes as well.

She did have a bath. Koinange stoked up the fire, a broadgrin on his face, and Hero allowed the water to trickle intothe bottom of the bath, scrubbing herself with an energy thatleft her breathless. It was a glorious sensation to feelthoroughly clean from head to foot, but she couldn't helphoping that Benedict was right about the approaching rain-clouds as she ruefully cleaned the bath after the last of therust-red water had disappeared down the plug. Until onehad experienced the tragic results of drought, one didn'tknow what a luxury it was to be clean and not looking twiceat every cup of water one put to one's lips.

With a self-consciousness that made her feel more than alittle foolish, Hero emerged from her room in her pink andwhite dress and went to join the others on the verandah. 'I'm- I'm sorry to have kept you waiting,' she said.

She didn't know how Benedict looked at her, because shecouldn't bring herself to look at him at all. She made aneffort to pull herself together and looked round for theothers, but they had already gone.

'It's a long way to Nanyuki,' Benedict explained. 'I

told them I'd pass on their good-byes to you.'

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'Thank you,' Hero murmured. She fingered the skirt of herdress through her pink gloves. 'This is the prettiest dress Ihave,' she told him, 'but it isn't at all practical. Is it the sort ofthing you wanted?'

'It's exactly what I wanted!' he said. 'Shall we go?'

He had changed his clothes as well. He was wearing off-white trousers that smelt of carbolic soap and sun, and acoat of the same material, under which was a sparklingdead-white shirt, and a striped tie.

A movement caught Hero's eye at the other end of theverandah and she turned quickly to see Koinange runningaway from the house and jumping on to a waiting lorry thatwas already full of laughing, excited, noisy Africans, whomshe recognized as the workers on the farm. 'Where onearth are they going?' Her eye kindled as she felt the fullweight of her responsibility for seeing that the last of thefields were sown with the experimental seed before therains came - if they came. 'They can't go anywhere now!'

Benedict led her firmly out to the Land-Rover. 'You'll have toblame me. I gave them all the day off.'

'You must be mad! We haven't finished — '

'They'll finish it tomorrow.' He gave her a little shake.'Besides, my girl, I'll have you know that I am in charge of

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the work on the farm.'

'But—' she began.

'But nothing! I've given you a lot of rope, Hero Carmichael,but now you've come to the end of it. My patience isexhausted. You have no more time left—' He was silent fora moment. Then, 'You don't understand, do you? Nevermind, mwanamke, you will!' 'Don't call me that!'

He gave her a long, cool look. 'If you don't like it, you knowyou can change it any time you care to. I'm not stoppingyou!'

'I can't! Benedict, I want to go to England soon. I can't go onstaying at the farm with you. I should have gone back toNairobi with the others and then you couldn't call me yourconcubine or anything else.' 'You'd still be my wife.'

She threw him a mutinous look. 'Your mwanamke! I won'tbe called that by anyone!'

'All right,' he said, 'if you don't like it, after today no one willever call you that again!'

'I don't like it!'

He plainly thought that funny. 'I haven't forgotten that I'vepromised to take you to England either. We'll go, just assoon as I can get away with a clear conscience. Will that

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do?'

She nodded, not daring to speak.

The Land-Rover was a lot cleaner than when she had lastseen it. Koinange must have brushed out the front andwashed down the seats, and somebody had covered thecanvas with American cloth, cheap and unbleached, toprotect their clothes from the dust. Hero sat as far awayfrom Benedict as she could get, pulling the cloth up allround her, and staring out at the passing scenery as thoughshe had never seen it before.

It was she who saw the giraffe on the road ahead of them,bending across to a nearby tree to look for the few leavesthat were left on the disintegrating timbers. It was a proud,awkward-looking beast, and it had no

intention of moving aside for anyone.

'We could practically drive through its legs!' Hero giggled-

He hushed her with a movement of his hand. 'She has ababy over there,' he whispered.

'But it's tiny! They'll starve, won't they?' she said.

He touched her gloved hand with his own. 'They may belucky. It will rain tonight at least. It's not much, but it maykeep them going.'

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Hero heaved a sigh. 'This year! What about next?'

'They're not the only ones to suffer,' he reminded her. 'Weknow it's bound to get worse all along the Sahelian belt -and not only in Africa, but in the Indian sub-continent too. Ifwe allow thousands of people and animals to die, it will bea man-made disaster. It doesn't have to happen.'

'But it will, won't it?' she said.

'Probably.'

'Can't you stop it?'

'No, I cannot, but that won't stop me trying! Will that do you?'

Hero watched the giraffes go with a sense of loss. 'Is it truethat the only wild animals in England are all in zoos?' sheasked him.

'Not exactly,' he answered. 'But it isn't like it is out here.There aren't any giraffes walking across the open road, forinstance!'

She laughed. 'Stupid!' she murmured. 'You know quite wellwhat I meant!'

He gave her a more serious look. 'It takes a little gettingused to, living in England. I can't promise you'd like it at

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first. There isn't the freedom you have here, there isn't theroom for it. I can't promise your mountains and grandeur,'he cautioned her. 'England is full of small green fields, andpretty little rounded hills, also green, but it has the charm ofher people. A temperate climate makes for a tolerantnation.'

'Where are we going in Isiolo?' she asked him.

'Ah,' he said, 'I wondered when you'd ask me that! We'regoing to church, as we should have done before. They'reexpecting us. I called up the good fathers on the radiotelephone and told them we'd be with them about lunchtime.They thought it was about time too! I explained to them thatyou hadn't wanted a religious ceremony in Nairobi becausewe'd only just met, and you weren't at all sure of yourself asfar as marriage to me was concerned. They thought youwere quite right about that—'

'They did?'

'Well, they did rather wonder what your mother would havethought of it all, but I pointed out that the bonds ofmatrimony took a bit of getting used to when you'remarrying a complete stranger and that to make themunbreakable at the same time would have put an

intolerable strain on you.'

'And on you?'

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'It was different for me,' he said. 'You see, I knew exactlywhat I was doing from the first moment I saw

you.'

Benedict might have thought that he had explained theircivil wedding to the priests, but it didn't stop Hero fromfeeling that it was unlikely that they would have accepted hisexplanation. But there she was

wrong.

'Ah, Hero me dear,' she was greeted in strong, Australianaccents. 'I was beginning to think I'd have to come out to thefarm to take a look at you and that husband of yours. Like tohave everything dinkum, as you know. But Benedictexplained that it was nothing more than an engagement sofar, but as you were together out there you thought it moreproper to have some kind of ceremony first. Quite right, medear! Your mother would have approved! And now we canhave the real thing and you can both live happily ever after.Come along now. I take it you want me to say Mass, so I'lljust get vested while you say a little prayer in the church.'

Hero, who had opened her mouth to speak once or twiceduring this speech, decided that silence would serve herbetter, and followed the priest meekly through the opendoor and up the aisle.

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The Mass was in English, which caused someembarrassment when the priest could only find the words ofthe marriage service in Swahili. However, after someflustered searching through some typewritten bits of paperhe had on the lectern, accompanied by some veryAustralian comments under his breath, he translated thewords himself and managed to make them sound morepersonal than Hero had ever heard them.

She found she couldn't look at Benedict once during theservice. It was as much as she could do to hold her handsteady when he took it in his, removed her wedding ringand put it back again. Did he know that now it could neverbe removed again? He certainly put it on her finger as if hemeant it to stay there. But to have arranged it all withoutsaying a single, solitary word to her about it. He must havebeen very sure of her for that!

Those whom God hath joined together, let no man putasunder. He had done it now, she thought. The bondswould be there for as long as they both lived and nothingcould break them. She looked up at him and then saw thewide smile on his face.

'Didn't I promise you that no one would call you mymwanamke ever again?' he whispered to her, as the priestdisappeared into the sacristy to divest.

She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. 'Oh,

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Benedict, I don't care what they call me! I want to be the sortof wife you want, no more than that!'

'I know,' he said. 'You were asleep before, but now you'rewaking up, and you don't know where you are. But I meantto have you all along, with your dark Greek eyes and yourloving heart, as I tried to tell you that very first day.'

She could only stare at him. 'But you said she was rather adarling!' she said when she could say anything at all.

'And so she is!' he said, kissing her hard on the mouth.

CHAPTER TWELVE HERO blinked as they left the coolsanctuary of the church for the brilliant sunshine outside. Itwas a second or two before she could focus on the grinningfaces of the farm workers led by Koinange, beside himselfwith excitement. Too late, she saw the handful of grassseed in his hand and received it full in the face.

'Oh no!' she gasped. 'Not after my beautiful bath!'

Benedict laughed. 'They haven't any confetti to throw, andno doubt they have high hopes for the fields as well as foryou!'

Hero was rooted to the spot. 'You mean - your son?' shebreathed.

'Our son,' he corrected her with a smile. He touched her

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scarlet cheek with his forefinger, looking amused. 'Ah, I seeI have your whole interest now!'

Yes,' she admitted. 'But I refuse to discuss it in the middleof the street. In fact I refuse to discuss it at all!'

'Very proper,' he conceded. 'There is, after all, nothing todiscuss, is there? Like you, I have old-fashioned ideasabout these things —'

Perversely, Hero could now think of half a dozen things theyhad to discuss. He had been high-handed enough for oneday, arranging everything behind her back. It was just likethat first meal they had had together, with him ordering forher as though she had no ideas on the subject herself.

'So have I!' she announced. 'I like people to say please andthank you, and - and all the common niceties.' She brushedthe last of the grass seed out of her collar.

'If you look over there,' he said mildly, 'you'll see the raincoming.'

She whirled round, and discovered for herself that MountKenya had disappeared behind a wall of cloud that wasmoving rapidly across the foothills towards them.

'And will it come here?'

'Today anything may happen,' he answered, giving her a

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studied look which brought the colour to her

cheeks. 'It's that sort of day!'

The Africans, too, fell silent, watching the clouds comingspinning towards them. In the distance a drum could beheard, and then another, and then a third, all of thembeating out the same message, that the rains were coming,that this year they had not failed.

'We ought to go home before the road becomes aquagmire,' she murmured. 'We haven't any chains.Benedict, are you listening? Please let's go!'

'Don't you want to stay for lunch?' She shook her headurgently. 'We'll be stuck here for goodness knows how longif we do. You don't understand ! The water fills up the riverbed in no time at all. It comes rushing down, takingeverything with it, and there may not be a road to go on bythis evening.'

'It had better not take my topsoil!'

Hero shrugged. 'We've done what we can to prevent it, butit builds up a tremendous force. Darling, would it be soterrible if we had to start all over again?'

'You get in the Land-Rover,' he suggested, not answeringher questions, 'and I'll say good-bye to the good fathers.We'll ask them out for a meal some other time. Right?'

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She nodded. 'Thank them from me too, won't you?' shecalled after him.

The Africans were looking anxiously towards theapproaching rain too. They began to shout to one-another,holding out their hands to feel the first of the heavy drops ofrain that might fall.

'We too shall be going back to the farm, memsahib/ theyshouted to Hero. 'This time the rain is coming for sure!'

They threw themselves into the back of the lorry, holdingsome old, tatty sacks over their heads and, as the lorrypulled out in a cloud of dust, they began to sing, the sweetcadences of their song rising and falling above the roar ofthe engine. One straggler was grasped by his two handsand his torn shirt and pulled up into the alreadyovercrowded well of the lorry amidst a great gust oflaughter.

It could have been a stranger who swung himself into thedriving seat beside her. 'What's the matter?' he asked.

'Nothing.'

'Take off your hat and say that again,' he commanded. 'Iwant to see your eyes when you say it.'

Her hands were trembling so much that she could hardly

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manage the pin that had been holding the offending hat inposition. 'Nothing,' she repeated.

'I thought so!' He took her hand in his, threading his

fingers through hers. 'Can you wait to be reassured until weget back to the farm, or shall we let the rain go hang and —'

'We can't!' She pulled hard on her hand, but he paid noattention at all. 'We'd never get home at all!'

'And you want to go home?'

She nodded her head. 'The new bank might give way.Anything might happen! And we - we might be able to stopit happening if we're there.'

His eyebrows rose. 'I shall love to see you throwing yourselfinto the breach, of course, but that's not why I want to takeyou home.'

She pulled again on her hand with as little success asbefore. 'I think the rain is circling round us!'

His grasp on her fingers tightened. 'Don't try and changethe subject,' he said. 'Don't you want to hear about why Iwant you all to myself for a while?' He glanced across ather, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. 'Whydid you fly up with me, Hero, rather than come up on thetrain?'

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She gave him a sudden, mischievous look. 'Fishing doesseem to be a common interest of both of us,' she said, 'andit looks as though the season's just beginning,' she added,as the first drops of rain began to fall on the roof of theLand-Rover, a sound to stir the blood of anyone whospends the greater part of every year waiting for the briefwet season that could make or break the efforts of alifetime.

The mother giraffe, feeling as skittish as her young one inthe rain, began to run as soon as the Land-Rover came insight. Despite the apparently awkward motion

and the stately swaying of her neck, she kept pace withthem for more than a quarter of a mile, before turning awayfrom the road and disappearing into the bush away fromtheir sight.

'Wasn't that marvellous!' said Hero.

'Does it make up for not having a honeymoon?' Benedictasked. 'We'll have one soon enough, and I'll take you toEngland as I promised, but it won't be yet!'

It didn't matter at all! Hero sat back in her seat and smiledto herself. It certainly wouldn't be this year that they went toEngland. Next year? Well, maybe. She would prefer to havetheir son in England, she thought, so that there wasabsolutely no doubt as to his nationality.

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'Don't you believe me?' he demanded.

'Oh, yes, of course!' she said at once. 'I was just thinkingthat I think I'd rather go to Scotland after all.'

'Are you trying to butter me up?'

Her mouth quivered into a smile. 'I've never seen theGorbals,' she said.

'If we didn't have to get home —'

'But we do!' she insisted. 'We can't stop now!'

'Can't we just?'

'No, I promise you! I'm in no mood to ruin my best dresstrying to shove the Land-Rover out of a ditch, and I can feelthe wheels slipping every now and again now!'

He grinned. 'Just you wait, my love, until I can deal with youas you deserve! Flirting with your husband,

of all things! Whatever next?'

'It was not!'

'It's what it looked like from where I'm sitting!'

It seemed to her that the air itself was charged with a

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delicious, spicy excitement such as she had never knownbefore. It was the rain, of course, and the relief of having gotrid of Betsy and, more than anything, the wonderfulknowledge that she was Benedict's wife.

'Would you mind very much if I did flirt with you?' shecouldn't resist asking him.

'I think I could come to terms with the situation,' he drawled.

The moment he drew up outside the house, she was out ofthe Land-Rover and running into the house.

'I want to go and see how the banks are holding! And howthe donkey is getting on, FulanV.' she told him, ratherbreathlessly, over her shoulder. 'I'm going to change and godown to the river.'

She didn't dare meet the look in his eyes. She made adash into her room, tearing off her pink dress and her high-heeled shoes as fast as she could go. She felt more normalaltogether in her usual cotton trousers and a checked shirt;more normal and a great deal safer too.

It took her some time to find her mackintosh and theWellington boots she had last worn about two years before.She banged the boots on the floor to make sure that noinsect had made its home in the toes and then stuffed herfeet into them, and threw the mackintosh around hershoulders.

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Benedict was still waiting where she had left him in theLand-Rover. 'Hop in!' he commanded, but Hero felt she hadto argue.

'Aren't you hungry?' she asked him. 'Koinange will makeyou a sandwich —'

'No, he won't.'

'But Koinange —'

'I've given him the day off. If we eat at all, I'm afraid you'llhave to get the meal. Now, do you want to go down andlook at the river or not?'

She got cautiously in beside him. They would never makeit, she thought. The murram was already wet through and asslippery as a skating rink. She wondered if she should tellhim to go round the long way, but the expression on hisface kept her silent. Besides, if anyone could drive themthere and back, it would be Benedict, she reasoned. Hedrove as well as he did everything else, with flair and good-tempered ease.

The river had only just begun to fill up. The water, thick withred mud, moved slowly past them, gathering momentumeven as they watched.

'You see that mud?' Benedict broke the silence. 'That's

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someone else's topsoil!'

'The elephants like it,' Hero said. 'They blow water, themuddier the better, all over their backs to keep away theflies and other insects. They come up out of their baths aspink as you could wish for.' 'Do they come here?' he asked.

She nodded. 'They used to. My father encouraged them tokeep to an old walk they had going down to the river. Healways said they did more good than harm. When thefigures came out that they were being poached at the rateof twelve hundred a month, he nearly went mad. And that'snot counting the ones who stray out of the game reservesand are killed legally by the small farmers round about. Onecan understand it, they do trample down the crops, andsometimes whole villages as well, but it used to break hisheart. He didn't believe that people always have to comefirst. But they're elephants! He would say. There aren't anyat all in West Africa now. Soon there may not be any hereeither. They're eating themselves out of house and home.'

'That I can believe,' Benedict said. 'I saw a good deal ofvegetation bashing by elephants in Tsavo National Parklast year.'

Hero stiffened at the mention of the year before. She gotout of the Land-Rover and lifted her face to the sky, lettingthe rain run through her hair and over her skin, washingaway the last remnants of her make-up. She hardly noticed

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when Benedict came round the bonnet and stood besideher, staring thoughtfully into the depths of the water, as itroared past them.

In his usual quick way he had read her thoughts at once.'Even now, are you still wanting to make Betsy's pretty earsgo red?' he asked. 'In that case, I'm afraid there's only onething for me to do. I'm going to exorcise Betsy from yoursystem.'

Quite slowly and deliberately he reached out for her anddrew her into his arms. His lips took possession of her own,forcing them apart. She felt his body hard against her ownand his arms gripping her tightly to him. Her whole beingbecame fused with an ecstasy she had never knownbefore. She was trembling. Then gradually he relaxed hisgrip, but still held her close, one hand on the nape of herneck and stroking her back gently with the other.

'Is Betsy now exorcised?' he asked.

Hero could not trust herself to speak, but he could see theanswer in her eyes. He said, 'Sweetheart, we've looked atthe river, we've seen that the new banks are holding, andwe can be reasonably sure that the new grasses willgerminate beautifully in this rain, so may we now go home?'

This time it was she who laughed. 'I haven't looked in on thedonkey yet. We'll probably have to walk! You'll never turn the

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Land-Rover in this!'

But he did manage it. 'I thought we'd be pulling it out of theriver tomorrow,' she confessed, 'It wouldn't have been forthe first time!'

The donkey heard them coming and came running to thestable door, bleating a welcome.

'He's grown,' Benedict commented.

'You ought to look in on him more often.' Hero gave thedonkey a warm hug. 'He belongs to both of us,' shereminded him.

'I'll give you my share,' he offered.

Hero presented him with an outraged face. 'But you can't!He has to belong to both of us!' She scratched the top ofthe donkey's head. 'You do love him a little bit, don't you?'

He put his hands over hers. 'I prefer his mistress,' he said.'Come on, Hero, it's time we dried you out!'

But back at the house, he seemed a stranger again and theuncertainty that had dogged Hero all day robbed her of herappetite.

'I think I'll get us something to eat,' she volunteered.

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'Oh yes?' he said. He held out his hands to her, lookingright into her eyes. 'Yes, you do that, and then with any luckyou won't be able to think of anything else to put between usfor the rest of the day.' He touched her hair with gentlefingers and shook his

head at her. 'My drowned darling! You'd better fetch a toweltoo and I'll dry your hair for you. I like to see it all fluffed upand pretty!'

She couldn't find a single word to say. Even with himstanding so close to her that she could feel him breathing,she couldn't quite manage to get him in focus.

'But you can't want to waste your time drying my hair!' shesaid. She made a last effort to pull herself together. 'If Imake a moussaka, will that do for you? I

— I'm not very hungry somehow.'

'Of course I want to dry your hair for you,' he murmured. 'It'sall part of my plan to spoil you for anyone else who may seteyes on you and want you as much as I do!'

'But I'm married to you!'

'Although not very sure of yourself at the moment,' he said,'but you will be when I've finished with you!'

'I'll go and cook, if you'll excuse me.'

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He let her go at once and that wasn't what she wantedeither. He went over to the record-player and chose a discat random, putting it on the turntable. As the first rich notesof Birgit Nilsson's voice spread

through the house, he followed Hero into the kitchen.

'Wagner?' he asked. 'Your choice?'

'My father's.'

He listened in silence for a moment. 'I don't recognize it. Is itone of the operas?'

'No. They're five poems by Mathilde Wesendonck, who wasa friend of his. He set them to music for her. They soundbetter when it's raining,' she added. 'There's alwayssomething of the excitement of a storm in his music.' Sheadded, 'I like storms!'

He gave her a quick look. 'Love of storms seems a mutualfeeling. Did I tell you I brought you a present from theSudan?'

'I shouldn't have thought you'd have had time to goshopping,' she said.

'I didn't. I persuaded a friend of mine to fly it out with him.His wife bought it in Vienna, following my detailed

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instructions as to what I wanted. Want to see?'

She nodded. Did he have friends all over the world, waitingto do his bidding? She put the dish in the oven to finishcooking and then stood in the middle of the kitchen, notknowing whether to go or stay.

'Shut your eyes,' he commanded, 'and hold out your hands.'

She did as she had been asked and felt his lips againsthers. Her eyes flew open and he dropped the mostseductively beautiful nightdress into her hands at the samemoment.

'Benedict!' she exclaimed. 'But I've never worn anything— Isthis - for me?'

'It's not as young and sweet as the one you made yourself,'he said. 'I like that one too, but this one is to match theGreek fire in your heart. This one is for tonight!'

'But Greek fire was a terrible weapon!'

'Oh, terrible!' he mocked her. 'Believe me, I know! I've beenon the receiving end —'

'You mean, that's how you think of me?'

His arms came round her, holding her so tightly that shecouldn't move if she wanted to.

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'I like spoiling you,' he said in her ear. 'I love you very much,Liebling, more than you'll ever know.' 'I love you too!'

He wouldn't allow her to say anything else, but kissed herlips, her eyes, her brow, and then her lips again, stirring herto a passion that leapt up within her to meet andcomplement his own for her. Then with an effort that she feltlike an electric shock down her body, he put her away fromhim and sat her down on one of the wooden kitchen chairs,starting to rub her hair dry on the nearest towel that came tohand.

'We have time, sweetheart. We have all the time in theworld! And I don't think I'm a stranger to you any longer, amI? We'll eat your meal, and drink wine - not retsina! - andyou can flirt with me all you want to. Because afterwards,my lovely wife, my time is coming!'

And the rain thundered down on the roof, mixed with thefinal chords of the last of the Wagnerian songs, bringing lifeto the countryside for another year.