by Penny Jordan
She had been torn to shreds once on the cruel sharpness of Marcus’s too penetrating scrutiny. It might have been ten years ago, but the memory of how he had looked at her then was still sharp enough to bring another shudder to her body.
She couldn’t just sit here staring into space, her senses warned her. She must get up; do something. Her attention was caught by the vegetables heaped in the middle of the deal table. There was meat as well—fresh lamb cutlets. She felt rather like someone who had jumped into shallow water, only to discover it was fathoms deep. She had plunged unaware into those shocking, icy depths, and now, slowly and painfully, she was making her way back to the surface. By the time Anna eventually walked back into the kitchen, laden down with bundles of files, the atmosphere was rich with the scent of cooking meat. She sniffed appreciatively and then grimaced, patting her hips.
‘Salad for me tonight, unfortunately. When my husband’s away on business I try to do a bit of dieting.’ She glanced enviously at Maggie’s slim figure. ‘You don’t look as though you’ve ever had a weight problem,’ she commented.
‘Not really,’ Maggie agreed, not telling her that when she had first gone to London she had been so thin and her appetite so poor that John Philips had threatened to take her himself to the doctor unless she started eating better. It was only years later that she’d realised how close she had come to being a victim of the slimmer’s disease, anorexia nervosa.
These days she normally ate sensibly and well, but it didn’t take much to make her lose her appetite. Right now, for instance, the very smell of the meat cooking was enough to make her feel quite nauseous.
She was planning to make a lamb casserole delicately flavoured with herbs. It was one which had been a favourite of her uncle’s, and was almost one of the first dishes that Marcus’s mother had taught her to cook. Her hand trembled slightly as she paused in chopping up herbs.
‘You still look rather pale,’ Anna commented, looking at her curiously. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ Maggie assured her lightly. ‘It’s just the sun. Last summer the weather was so poor that I suppose we’re not used to it.’
‘Mmm. Well, let’s hope a good meal will have a mellowing effect on Marcus’s temper,’ Anna commented drily. ‘He certainly seems to be in a foul mood at the moment.’ She made a face. ‘I thought men were supposed to mellow once they got engaged.’
Maggie’s hand was shaking so much, she had to put the knife down.
Don’t talk to me about Marcus. Don’t tell me about his engagement to someone else. It hurts too much, she cried out inside, but of course the words remained unspoken. How could she speak them? How could she do anything other than bend her head and hope that Anna was putting her lack of comment down to the face that she was engrossed in what she was doing.
‘Of course, I know he’s still suffering a lot of pain,’ Anna continued, apparently oblivious to Maggie’s rigid back and downbent head. ‘And the doctor’s already forecasting that there’s going to be a certain degree of residual lack of flexibility in the muscles.’
The knife clattered on to the floor, making a sharp noise as Maggie jerked upright. As both women bent to retrieve it, Anna looked directly at her.
‘He’s going through a very hard time at the moment,’ she said quietly. ‘Try to be patient with him, won’t you? You’re what he needs.’
Maggie blenched, the hand holding the knife going bone-white as she fought to resist the emotional impact of what Anna was saying to her. Of course, the other woman had no idea of her real feelings. No idea at all of the torment she was inflicting upon her.
‘Isobel might be a glamour-puss, but something tells me she’s not exactly a soothing influence on a man when he isn’t feeling at his best. She has been spoiled and indulged all her life, and I rather think she’s finding it heavy-going having an invalid as a fiancé. Marcus isn’t exactly the kind of man who’d dance attendance on a woman at the best of times, and then of course, I suppose it’s only natural that both of them must be suffering from a certain degree of sexual frustration,’ she said frankly.
Maggie expelled her breath in a small betraying hiss as she fought to control her expression.
‘Of course, they haven’t actually been living together,’ Anna continued, completely obliviously. ‘Life being what it is nowadays, I presume that they must already be lovers. I can see that Marcus might have considered holding back in view of his position of responsibility towards the girls, but Isobel now—well…’ she told Maggie grimly, ‘I doubt very much if that young lady ever waited for anything that she wanted in her life, and I’m quite certain she’s never even thought of considering anyone else’s feelings or emotions.’
Maggie couldn’t say a word. She was being tortured by the shocking clarity with which her mind was already picturing Marcus and Isobel together embracing as lovers.
‘Oh, dear, I’m afraid I’m letting my tongue run away with me,’ Anna said ruefully, mistaking her silence for disapproval. ‘Please don’t misunderstand me. I wasn’t gossiping. It’s just that I’m very fond of Marcus. I’ve worked with him for the last five years and I respect him, not just as a boss but as a man as well. In fact,’ she added with a rich chuckle, ‘if I wasn’t so well married to my Peter I think I might be in danger of joining my emancipated sisters and consider the attractions of taking a younger man as a lover. It’s been very hard for him, these last few weeks since the accident,’ she added in a quieter tone, ‘and Isobel hasn’t been any help to him at all, apart from nagging him to send the girls off to boarding-school.
‘Oh, yes, I know all about that,’ she admitted when Maggie looked at her. ‘And I must say that I don’t believe that it’s in their best interests to send them away, not at this stage in their lives. Susie, especially, is very vulnerable at the moment. She’s at that age when she might conceivably see being sent away to school as a rejection of her as a person and not simply an expedient means of dealing with a difficult problem.’
‘I suppose it’s only natural that Isobel should want Marcus to herself once they’re married,’ Maggie said non-committally.
‘Natural, but very selfish. She’s always known that Marcus has the responsibility of the girls.’ She shifted the weight of the files in her arms and said ruefully, ‘I think I’ve spent enough time gossiping for one day. I’d better get into the car and back to the office.’
She liked Anna and could quite conceivably see the other woman becoming a close friend in time, Maggie acknowledged when she was on her own in the kitchen, but it was very difficult for her to react naturally to the other woman’s confidences, even when she knew they were being given for the very best of reasons and out of her concern for Marcus, rather than out of any desire to simply discuss his relationship with Isobel. Even now, long after Anna had gone, she was still feeling sick and shaken by the other woman’s disclosure that she believed that Marcus and Isobel were lovers, and yet what on earth had she herself expected? They were both adults, and a sexual relationship, as she knew from living in London, was a natural and totally acceptable part of a relationship between engaged couples these days.
She finished preparing the casserole and put it in the oven at a low heat. It was time to go to collect the girls from school, and she still hadn’t made any attempt to get in touch with the people on the list the Reverend Mother had given her to see if she could arrange to share the school run with some of the other parents living locally. It was something she could have asked Marcus about if she had felt strong enough to be able to face him and to behave naturally with him.
After this morning’s appalling discovery that she still loved him, the thought uppermost in her mind was that she must keep as much distance between them as possible until such times as she had come to terms with her feelings. She checked that the oven was on an appropriately low setting and walked towards the kitchen door, opening it, hesitating with her hand on the handle. Had the relationship between them bee
n more normal, wouldn’t she have popped her head round the study door to let Marcus know where she was going?
She closed her eyes and gave a tiny sigh, too drained to fight the combined depression and tension invading her. How long would it be before she was free of this tormentingly seductive inner voice that coaxed her to throw caution to the winds and to use every logical excuse she could find simply to be with Marcus, but she wasn’t here to indulge her own unwanted emotional yearnings. She was here to take care of her two younger cousins.
Resolutely she stepped back inside the kitchen and shut the door firmly. There was no need, after all, to alert Marcus to her departure. He knew she was in the house, and if he wanted to speak to her he was certainly capable of coming to look for her. On her way to her car, she wondered idly if Isobel worked. The other girl had mentioned helping her father out at the surgery, but presumably this didn’t occupy very much of her time.
She opened her car door, grimacing a little at the heat which had built up inside it. Getting in and starting the engine, she wound down the windows and then drove slowly out of the courtyard. On her way past the entrance to the kitchen garden, she heard sounds from inside it which suggested that the gardener had already set his men to work there.
It had been a long time since she had done any gardening. She had always enjoyed planting things and watching them grow. She had also enjoyed the privacy and solitude of the enclosed garden. There had been ample opportunity to daydream when she worked there, tugging the weeds from the rich earth, but she had already endured one very painful lesson about the folly of allowing daydreams to become confused with reality, and there was no way she was going to fall into that same trap again.
She arrived at the school in plenty of time to collect the girls, but their departure was delayed when they insisted on introducing her to some of their friends. A variety of nicknames ran through her brain in a confusing jumble as each girl in the large group was pulled forward and introduced to, ‘Our cousin—you know, the one who lives in London and illustrates books.’
Wryly aware that many of the girls who were regarding her now with a mixture of awe and curiosity would be destined to go on to university and from there to careers far more worthwhile than her own, Maggie wondered how long it would be before they ceased to look up at her in awe and rather would tend to look down on her with typical teenage arrogance.
Several older women had joined the group now, mothers mainly of the girls to whom she had already been introduced, and another round of introductions began.
‘And this is Alison’s Aunt Jane,’ Susie introduced, Alison being the friend the two girls had been with when Maggie had arrived. The older woman looked a little confused at the introduction, and Maggie suspected that, like the other women to whom she had been introduced, she had not really known whether Maggie actually existed or was simply a figment of Susie and Sara’s joint imaginations.
‘I had no idea that Marcus had any family, other than the girls,’ she admitted frankly, as she shook Maggie’s hand.
‘I don’t think he has,’ Maggie agreed calmly. ‘Marcus and I aren’t actually related, at least not by blood,’ and she gave a brief description of her own antecedents, causing the other woman to comment in some surprise.
‘Oh, yes, I seem to remember my husband’s predecessor remarking that there was another Deveril. Charles, my husband, is the vicar,’ she added by way of explanation. ‘We’ve been here about eight years now, and I must admit I’m dreading the day coming when we have to leave. My sister and her husband work abroad, and Alison lives with us during term-time, flying out to them for the longer holidays.’ She made a face. ‘Not an ideal situation, but fortunately Alison has a very placid and equable temperament and she seems to cope very well with it. I’m just sorry that my own two girls are grown up and living away from home now, because it does tend to make things rather lonely for her. At least Susie and Sara have each other. Is this to be a short visit, or…?’ she asked curiously as Maggie headed back towards her car.
‘I’m to be here permanently. At least until the girls have finished their schooling,’ Maggie told her, not resenting her questions and knowing that they sprang from genuine concern for the two girls’ welfare than from any desire to gather the latest gossip.
‘Yes, they’re old enough now to need a sympathetic female influence in their lives. Marcus has done a marvellous of bringing them up, but I think this accident has brought home to him the fact that they’re now both at an age when they need more emotional support than any housekeeper, however excellent, can give them.’
She didn’t ask any further questions, simply giving Maggie a warm smile as they parted and saying in a friendly voice, ‘If you feel like a chat at any time, or if there’s anything you need to know that you think I might be able to help with, please don’t hesitate to give me a ring or pop round.’
Thanking her, Maggie ushered the two girls into the car and then got into the driving seat. ‘Everyone was really surprised at lunch time when we told them about you,’ Susie chattered enthusiastically as Maggie headed for home.
‘Yes. They thought Susie was just making it up at first when she said you were coming to live with us,’ Sara chimed in, and through the driving mirror Maggie just caught the fleeting expression of concern cross the older girl’s face, as though even now she was still worried that Maggie might change her mind and go back to London.
How could she? She had given her word, and besides, she was coming to realise that looking after the girls wasn’t going to be any sinecure and that they did genuinely need her, as did Marcus, although she had little doubt that he would be very reluctant to admit as much.
Without her to take charge of Susie and Sara, he would be in the very uncomfortable position of either having to give in to Isobel and send them away to boarding-school, or having to refuse Isobel’s demands, running the risk of plunging them all into a very unhappy home life indeed. Maggie tried to imagine what Deveril House would be like with Isobel as a new bride, desperately trying to get rid of the two half-sisters-in-law she had absolutely no desire to have living there.
No, that would not have been an ideal situation for two teenage girls at a highly impressionable stage in their lives, when their future emotional development could depend on the atmosphere in which they were living. What would happen when Marcus and Isobel married? Maggie gave a tiny shiver, trying to imagine what it would be like trying to live under the same roof as Marcus and his bride.
It was like a fine torture being applied to already overstretched nerves. Her heartbeat picked up, her pulses racing rapidly as she fought against the nausea rising up to her throat. She couldn’t endure it. She knew now that she wouldn’t be able to endure it, but Isobel and Marcus weren’t getting married almost for another twelve months. Time, surely, for her to get her unwanted feelings under control and for her to come to terms with the fact that Marcus had no role in her life other than as her cousins’ half-brother.
As she tried to concentrate on her driving, she told herself grimly that, whatever else she didn’t manage to do, she must make sure that Isobel never discovered how she felt about Marcus. Once the other girl knew that, Maggie sensed that she would take great pleasure in making her life as miserable as she could. Not out of resentment or jealousy, but simply because it would amuse her to torment Maggie with Marcus’s unavailability, just as she had enjoyed holding the threat of being sent away to boarding-school over the girl’s heads.
Once they were back at the house, Maggie sent both girls upstairs to change out of their school uniform while she prepared a light snack. She had learned that they normally had the time from coming home from school until they sat down for their high tea at six o’clock to themselves, followed by two or three hours concentrating on their homework and then another hour or so relaxing before they went to bed.
She had decided, for reasons that she was not prepared to go into even with herself, that it would be as well if all four of them sa
t down to dinner together. She had ascertained that, if Marcus was eating in, he normally had his evening meal about eight o’clock to eight-thirty, and so, on the basis of this, she had decided that a light snack at around half-past four would keep the girls going until they all had their evening meal.
They greeted this announcement with expressions of pleasure.
‘We always used to eat together, but Isobel said she hated having dinner with two grubby schoolgirls and so Mrs Nesbitt changed everything round.’
‘Yes, and if we’re not having dinner until half-past eight, that means that we’ve still got time to go riding or play tennis and do our homework,’ Sara chimed in.
‘I haven’t said anything to Marcus yet,’ Maggie warned them. ‘He might not approve, and if he doesn’t…’ As she spoke, she was setting a tray with a pot of tea and some of the scones she had made that afternoon.
‘I thought Marcus might appreciate something to eat,’ she said lightly to Susie, gesturing towards the tray. ‘Why don’t you take this in to him?’
She had her back to the window, and at first didn’t realise why Susie suddenly said in tones of deep disgust, ‘Oh, no,’ and then Isobel walked into the kitchen, giving them all a very disdainful look.
She was wearing a tight-fitting linen dress which showed off her curves to perfection, and as she glanced at it Maggie thought wryly that no receptionist’s salary had ever paid for that particular garment. It shrieked Knightsbridge, as did all of Isobel’s very glossy appearance. She was wearing a heavy, cloying scent which made Sara wrinkle her nose and grimace.
‘Still here?’ she commented rudely to Maggie. ‘I should have thought you’d have had enough of the country by now.’