by Sara Craven
‘It’s a fair assumption,’ he said coldly. ‘When I find you here, the picture of guilt, and next-door to naked. Did you choose the dressing gown specially, my sweet? Does he prefer the virginal look—especially when it only consists of a layer of fabric?’
The anger was out in the open now. The words bitter—corrosive.
Louise bit her lip. ‘Believe what you wish,’ she returned equally icily. ‘But I was fully dressed when David arrived. And there was no prior arrangement, either. I thought he was the messenger delivering my dress, or I wouldn’t have opened the door.’
‘You’re claiming he simply turned up out of the blue?’ Alex asked with derision. ‘How did he know where to find you?’
‘Apparently he looked up your address in Ellie’s organiser.’ She hesitated. ‘He came to tell me—things hadn’t worked out between them.’
‘What a bloody surprise,’ he said contemptuously. ‘Was that all he said?’
‘No.’ Louise stared at the floor. ‘He—he wants me to go back to him.’
‘How touching,’ Alex said blightingly. ‘So when’s your next assignation? And please don’t have him in my bed, darling, because I wouldn’t find that amusing.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Louise hurled back at him, riled beyond endurance. ‘I was thinking we might try the Belmayne Hotel instead. Would you recommend it?’
The sudden silence seemed to stretch into eternity.
At last he said grimly, ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘About your damned hypocrisy.’ She was on her feet, shaking like a leaf. ‘I saw you, Alex. I saw you with your friend, Mrs Crosby. Your love nest is on a cab drivers’ rat run. And I know the name of the rat!’
‘Why, Louise,’ he said softly, ‘if I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous.’ He paused. ‘So what happens now? I expect the gutter Press would pay handsomely for the information.’
‘I’m sure they would,’ she hit back. ‘But I prefer to make you pay—when all this is over. When I’m free, and you’re sharing Rosshampton with the beautiful Mrs Crosby. She already has a country house, so a mansion is clearly the next logical step.’
She turned abruptly, making the broderie-anglaise skirts swirl around her, and marched to the door. ‘And now I’m going to my room, to pack for our weekend of wedded bliss. Please let me know when my dress arrives.’
She was at the door when his voice reached her, quiet, but with an odd raw note. ‘Louise—tell me the truth. Is David Sanders your lover?’
She looked back at him over her shoulder, her mouth twisting. ‘Why, Alex.’ She kept her own tone light, even mocking. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.’
She left the room, her head held high. And only she knew that her heart was weeping.
CHAPTER NINE
THEY drove down to Rosshampton the following afternoon, having reached what Louise could only wearily suppose, was a state of armed neutrality.
She had gone to her room, the day before, and stayed there, and he had made no attempt to follow. And she hadn’t cried, because she couldn’t allow herself to do that. Not again. Not yet.
But one day soon, when she was finally and completely alone, she would let herself grieve for a love that had never been hers.
Instead she had begun to pack for the weekend, moving like an automaton, trying to recall what Alex had told her about its format.
They would be expected to arrive in time for tea, and in the evening there would be a small dinner for family and a few close friends.
The real celebration would be the birthday party on Saturday night, when she would dance in Alex’s arms for the first and last time, wearing her new dress, which had finally arrived an hour later.
Alex had tapped on the door. ‘There’s a package for you.’
‘Oh, thank you.’ She took a deep breath, then walked to the door and opened it. He handed her the flat striped box, but as she made to close the door again, he stopped her, his expression faintly quizzical.
‘Don’t I get to see it?’
‘Don’t you trust my judgement?’ Louise parried.
He shrugged. ‘Trust hasn’t played a great part in this relationship so far.’
‘We don’t have a relationship,’ she said. ‘We have a deal.’
‘Just the same,’ he said. ‘May I look?’
Reluctantly Louise lifted the lid of the box, parting the sheets of protective tissue. She took out the shimmering folds of dark red taffeta, and held them against herself, briefly and self-consciously.
‘Will it do?’ She didn’t look at him.
‘Yes,’ he said, after a pause. ‘It will do very well. Thank you.’
He turned and walked away, and she closed the door behind him and leaned against it, aware that her breathing had quickened.
A short while later, she heard him go out, and she had not seen him again until this afternoon, when he had returned to collect her for the journey down to Rosshampton.
She had assumed that Alex would be driving himself, as he’d done when they first met, and had to hide her disappointment when he told her that he had decided to use the limousine and his driver as he had work to do on the journey. This meant that there would be no real chance to talk, and maybe even reach some much-needed rapprochement before they arrived for the party.
Harry, Alex’s driver, was polite and pleasant, and she liked him. She also knew there was no way he could overhear any passenger conversations, but that did not prevent her feeling absurdly self-conscious when he was present.
Besides, she thought with an inward sigh, there was no guarantee that she and Alex would discuss the events of the past twenty-four hours any more calmly and rationally than they had done already, and it would only take Harry one glance in the mirror to see they were having a row.
So maybe it was better this way, she thought, sitting on opposite sides of the car and concentrating on anything except each other.
He’d courteously offered her the Financial Times, and she’d declined with equal politeness.
Now, while Alex studied the papers he’d taken from his briefcase, Louise turned away from his cool, uncompromising profile and stared resolutely out of the window at the passing scenery, reviewing in her mind what he’d told her in the past about the South African connection.
Cliff Maidstone, she thought, grandson of a man that Selina Perrin might once have wanted to marry, but who’d been sent abroad to avoid prosecution after some trouble over money. Accompanied by Della, his wife of less than a year and a former model. Described himself as an investment adviser. No apparent shortage of funds, or charm. Loud in his praise of Rosshampton, which had been lovingly described to him, as a small child, by his grandfather. Had numerous memories to share with Lady Perrin of times when Archie Maidstone had stayed at the house himself.
‘The man’s clever,’ Alex had commented tersely. ‘Apparently, he’s mentioned his grandfather’s lifelong regret for the “stupidity” that drove him away from everything he held dear. Which, of course, includes Selina.’
He gave a sigh of exasperation. ‘What woman wouldn’t like to think she was some man’s lifelong regret?’
‘It’s not something that would appeal to me,’ Louise said.
But then, she thought sadly, she had her own regrets that might very well last a lifetime.
She cleared her throat. ‘How—how have you found out all these things?’
He shrugged. ‘Major rule in business. Know your enemy.’
‘And presumably,’ Louise said quietly, ‘your enemy also knows you.’
‘Ah,’ Alex said with a swift, crooked grin. ‘But I have a secret weapon in you, my sweet.’
But will I be enough? Louise asked herself, remembering the exchange. Supposing his grandmother doesn’t like me—or has already put two and two together and realises this marriage is simply a put-up job?
She realised suddenly that the car was slowing and turning in between
two tall stone pillars, and on, up a long sweep of drive.
Then the house was in front of them, a gracious sprawl of grey stone and mullioned windows, and she forgot everything else as she had her first view of Rosshampton.
It looked, she thought with sudden wonder, as if it had been there forever, framed by trees, as ancient and mellow as the landscape itself that surrounded it. The lawns seemed almost sculptured in their perfection, and the waters of the lake sparkled with blue and gold in the distance.
It was a house totally at ease with itself, and with its past, and she could understand for the first time why Alex loved it so much and desired it so fiercely that he was prepared to go to any lengths to acquire it.
Could understand—and almost sympathise.
She knew, too, that she would move heaven and earth to help him achieve his dream, if it was at all possible. That it would be her gift of love to him. The first, and also the last.
‘Well?’
She started a little at the sound of his voice. Turned to see him regarding her with a faint smile.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said slowly. ‘I never thought it would be like this.’ Or that I—I’d want it too, she added silently. Because that was something he would not want to hear. There was no place for her in Alex’s future plans. So much so that he was prepared to pay a fortune for her to go away, she reminded herself, straightening her shoulders and reaching for her bag. And she could not let herself forget that even for a minute.
The car drew to a halt in front of an imposing main entrance, where a man neatly dressed in a dark suit was waiting to greet them.
‘That’s Gillow,’ Alex told her in an undertone as they left the car. ‘He and his wife run the place, with additional help when they need it. They’ve been with Selina for years, and meeting you is going to be a big moment for them. Mrs Gillow has been asking for years when I’m going to meet a nice young lady. Almost from the time I left school, in fact.’
She winced. ‘Now, why does that make me feel no better about all this?’
‘Want to pull out?’
‘No,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘I came to do a job, and I’ll do it.’
He said, ‘Then it begins.’ He took her hand, and she walked beside him, smiling, into the house.
Lady Perrin was in the drawing room, seated in a corner of one of the brocaded sofas that flanked the fireplace.
‘Grandmother,’ Alex said, leading her forward. ‘This is Louise—my wife.’
Lady Perrin’s shrewd gaze swept over her, taking in every detail of the plain taupe dress, the dark brown patent shoes and bag, the gold studs in her ears and, more particularly, the plain band on her wedding finger. She gave a slight nod.
‘So,’ she said, ‘you’re the girl who’s managed to tame my grandson at last.’
‘Oh, no, Lady Perrin,’ Louise said serenely. ‘I wouldn’t even attempt to do that. I think he’s pretty wonderful just the way he is.’
‘Then you must be very easy to please,’ the older woman said tartly. She patted the sofa beside her. ‘Sit down, child, and tell me something about yourself. Alexander has been distressingly reticent. I think he wanted to surprise me, and he has.’
She turned to him. ‘You need not wait, Alexander. Gillow will have taken your bags up to the Chinese Room.’
‘The Chinese Room?’ Alex repeated, an odd note in his voice. ‘Not the Royal Suite?’
‘I’ve given that to the Maidstones on this occasion,’ his grandmother told him affably. ‘I knew you wouldn’t mind.’
‘No, of course not.’ Alex’s face and tone were expressionless. ‘The Chinese Room it is, then.’
‘I’ll send your wife to you when we’ve had our little chat.’ She gave him a thin smile. ‘You have better taste than I thought, grandson.’
Louise sat down, folding her hands in her lap, drawing on every atom of composure she possessed.
She was expecting the latter-day equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition from this formidable old lady, but once they were alone Lady Perrin became far more friendly. Her questions about Louise’s family, education and former career were certainly probing, but they were also kind, and she appeared genuinely interested.
And she seemed to accept without demur Louise’s calm explanation that she’d met Alex while he was negotiating a finance deal with her father.
‘It’s almost the truth, after all,’ Alex had pointed out. ‘So why invent another story?’
‘It’s no wonder that he snapped you up with such indecent haste,’ Lady Perrin was saying. ‘I did wonder—but no matter.’ She paused. ‘Tell me, my dear, does he make you happy?’
Louise hadn’t been expecting that. The older woman had slipped it under her guard, and for a moment she almost faltered, then she made herself look up, and meet Lady Perrin’s eyes. She even managed to smile.
She said calmly, ‘He’s made me love him more than I dreamed I would ever be able to care for anyone.’
‘That is not,’ said Lady Perrin, ‘what I asked, but never mind. Alexander is a very fortunate man.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Now go upstairs and join him. Mrs Gillow will show you the way. Tea will be in half an hour, when the Maidstones return from their walk in the garden.’
And Louise found herself dismissed.
On the way upstairs, a clearly delighted Mrs Gillow regaled her with stories about Alex’s boyhood. At any other time Louise would have gobbled them up, but a slight feeling of uneasiness was stirring inside her. Alex had been so definite that they would be given the Royal Suite, yet it seemed they’d been put somewhere else. And what were the implications of that? she asked herself, remembering his reaction.
She did not have to wait long to find out. Mrs Gillow opened a door with a flourish, and Louise stepped forward into the Chinese Room.
She could see at once how it had acquired its name. It was a large room, overlooking the lake, its walls covered in a charming oriental paper, and the eastern theme was repeated in the tall porcelain vases that graced the mantelpiece. There were washed Chinese rugs on the polished wood floor, and the window hangings were dull gold, as was the quilted coverlet on the room’s only bed.
It was that which caught the eye of course. Focused her appalled attention. It was a very wide bed—kingsize or even larger—but it stood in solitary splendour, everything about it suggesting double occupation.
Which was not, and never had been, part of the deal, Louise thought, her throat tightening uncontrollably.
As she heard the door close behind Mrs Gillow, Louise looked across the room to where Alex was standing by the window.
She said huskily, ‘What is this?’ Her voice rose. ‘You said two rooms. You promised me…’
He shrugged. ‘You heard what Selina said. She’s given the Royal Suite to the Maidstones. A great mark of favour,’ he added drily.
‘But she can’t.’ Louise wrapped defensive arms round her body. ‘And we can’t either—share this room, I mean.’
‘Unfortunately, we don’t have a choice,’ Alex drawled. ‘But it’s a very big bed and, although I don’t have a naked sword to place between us in the true spirit of chivalry, a couple of those pillows should provide sufficient deterrent.’
‘No,’ she said, her heart thudding unevenly. ‘No, I won’t do it.’ She pointed to a door. ‘What’s in there?’
‘A bathroom.’
‘Problem solved,’ she said. ‘You could sleep in the bath.’
‘Indeed, I could,’ he said cordially. ‘I could also dangle from the light fitting. But I’m not going to. I intend to spend the night in that bed.’
There was a chaise longue in the window alcove, with a gilded sleeping dragon curled along its back. She pointed to it. ‘You can use that.’
‘Forget it,’ he said tersely. ‘Quite apart from being seriously uncomfortable, the damned thing is only about five feet long. I, on the other hand, am over six feet tall, in case you hadn’t noticed,’ he added witheringly.
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br /> She lifted her chin angrily. ‘Then I shall sleep there myself.’
‘Fine.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s your decision—and your funeral.’ His mouth slanted. ‘Or you’ll wish it was after a few hours on that bloody couch.’
She was close to furious, frightened tears. Her voice shook. ‘You planned this deliberately, didn’t you?’
‘Oh, sure,’ Alex said derisively. ‘I can just hear myself. “Oh, Gran, my wife won’t sleep with me, so can you—throw us together somehow? If we’re in the same bed, I can maybe talk her round.”’ He snorted. ‘Get real, Louise.’
‘But there must be something we can do.’
‘There is,’ he said. ‘We can accept the situation. And I’ve already started.’ He pointed to the wardrobe. ‘I hung up your dress.’
‘Thank you,’ she said stonily.
‘Think nothing of it,’ he returned. ‘As I’m sure you already do.’ He paused, then said more gently, ‘I’ll try and make the situation as easy as I can for you. Ensure that you have privacy while you’re changing. Take care not to walk into the bathroom without knocking. And make sure that the lights are off when I come to bed,’ he added drily. ‘Because I don’t wear pyjamas.’
She stared down at the polished floor, aware that her face had warmed. ‘Very well.’ Her voice was muffled as she tried to erase from her mind an unwanted image of how Alex would look without his clothes.
‘And after all,’ he added, ‘it’s only for a couple of nights. Then you’ll have all your own space again.’ He gave her a brief smile. ‘Now, we’d better go down and have tea with Selina.’
The Maidstones were already in the drawing room when they got there. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and hot brown eyes in a ruddy face. Della Maidstone was a willowy blonde with a kittenish expression. They smiled lovingly at each other, showing very white teeth, and touched a lot, too, and Louise found herself quite irrationally disliking them intensely.
Surely Lady Perrin couldn’t really think that they were suitable custodians for Rosshampton, she thought in bewilderment.