persuading her to come this weekend.
She bent at random, and picked up a twig, and then she strolled to the
end of the pier and sat, leaning against an end post. About ten
minutes later, Pierce found her there, staring broodingly into the
water and breaking off bits of the twig to toss out. She heard him
come out of the lodge, it was so quiet, and her face set into
expressionlessness when his footsteps first sounded on the pier's
boards.
He came to stand beside her silently. She could see out of the corner
of her eye the. lean, lower part of his leg, and the tip of his shoe.
After a moment, when she refused to look up or acknowledge his
presence as she flung her pieces of bark into the lake, he said quite
casually, 'Our first date, and you've stood me up. Not a very
auspicious beginning.' He squatted beside her, and then said, 'Here.'
She turned her head. He held two cups of coffee, steaming hot and
suddenly pungent as the aroma hit her. 'Thank you,' she said, taking
one from him. She refused to let her gaze linger on him too long, and
so after a quickly flicked glance, she turned back to the water. He
was lean and elegant in grey slacks and sweater. Suddenly mocking,
she continued, 'Besides, I don't remember saying I'd show.'
'Is that why you're out here?' He sounded idle, bored, as though she'd
done a petty thing, and she was fiercely glad she didn't care.
'No,' she told him flippantly, and sipped daintily from her cup. 'I just
couldn't make up my mind whether I would or not, that's all.'
'I don't believe you.'
It was several seconds before she realised he had said that without
any mockery, amusement, or anything else that would detract from
the quiet impact of the simple words. When it finally registered, she
was angrier than ever. He wasn't supposed to have reacted that way.
He was supposed to either be amused or confused, either attracted or
repulsed, and she could have felt a safe contempt for him. 'Well,' she
said then, thrusting to her feet. 'You should. I have a terrible time
making my mind up about anything.' She looked down at his
upturned, self-contained expression, and added drily, 'Everybody
knows that of me, sooner or later.'
Caprice turned to walk away, escape. He looked away, over the calm,
mirror-smooth lake, and then said softly, as though he'd never seen
her exit bid, as though they were having a leisurely conversation,
'You see, everyone has a basic reason for doing something.
Sometimes, with the more twisted or fanatic mind, you need to
search deeper for the reason, but it's always there, deep, underlying
actions and thought like the still waters under the surface of this lake.'
He had caught her as effectively as if he'd reached out his large,
slender hand and curled his fingers around her ankle. She felt an
inner lurch, and then was frightened. Foolish, foolish, for this man
was a stranger and he didn't matter any more than the others
mattered. She shouldn't fear him. He didn't know her, couldn't know
her. She was glittering brightness, she was cool fire, she was laughter
and gaiety, and malicious gentleness, she was Caprice. Underneath
that, she was untouchable.
Laughter bubbled up from her throat. She bent and set her half empty
cup down carefully, and then danced away from Pierce. He
swivelled, then stood, as she' whirled back to face him tauntingly. 'I!'
she cried, extravagantly, bowing to him from the waist, one hand
held gracefully curved outward. 'I don't need a reason for doing
something. I do it because I want to, like a spoiled child.' She
pirouetted lightly, silver blonde hair flying. Then she faced him
again, mockingly. 'In short, I know myself for what I am. I am a
social butterfly! I flit from place to place! I flirt, hook the fish, reel
them in bit by bit, and let go of the line when I grow bored! I have
fun. I do what I wish. Finis!'
She bowed again. Laughing applause from behind her, and she
turned to find Jeffrey, Lane,