'You wouldn't if you had to work in it,' Blackie said sourly, and at Nell's distressed look, 'I'm getting on, dearie. I've reached an age when I could do with things a bit easier. And when I give up no one else will be prepared to work under these conditions.'
'Oh, Blackie, we couldn't manage without you!'
'Some day you'll have to. Or move to a smaller place. Times have changed, Nell, though your family don't seem able to accept it.'
This was near heresy from one of Blackie's conservative disposition. Was it a warning? A hint that they had all been selfish, relying on her undoubted loyalty to the family, and forgetting that she was nearly seventy.
Nell determined to bring this conversation up with her aunt and her grandfather at the first opportunity. After Blackie had been driven off by her brother-in-law for a richly deserved break she looked for Elizabeth, but couldn't find her.
On Easter morning the family went to church, before going on to Philip's for lunch. Colonel Whitehead's only concession to his recent illness was that he had given up reading the lessons. Archie Middleton-Massey did this instead, but his voice didn't carry as well as her grandfather's, and Nell's attention wandered during the second lesson. She gazed round the lovely old Norman church, where so many of her ancestors were buried, at the exquisite rose window, which was internationally famous, at the magnificent carved reredos, and at all the old friends in the congregation, who had begun to accept her as one of themselves again.
'This is where I belong,' she thought. 'Here in Lanmore.' She was almost sure then that she would accept Dr MacFarlane's offer.
Half the congregation seemed to be going to Philip's house. 'Not all for lunch, surely?' Nell asked, as they crossed the cattle grid at the top of his drive.
'Good gracious, no! Only his close friends will be staying for lunch,' Elizabeth answered complacently. 'But he's asked quite a crowd in for drinks.'
Once it had been her grandfather who was the accepted leader of local society. When Nell commented on this the old man turned to smile at her from his seat in the front of the car. 'I can't be bothered with entertaining these days, and Elizabeth enjoys going to Philip's place.'
Nell gazed out of the window at the well kept drive and the immaculate lawns that lay beyond, at the modern house which harmonised so well with its surroundings. Stone seemed to mellow quicker than brick and its walls were already covered by a variety of climbing plants. They parked behind the Middleton-Masseys' Land-Rover, and found Philip at the door, waiting to usher them in. Nell had a brief impression of a spacious, white-walled hall and then she was in the drawing-room, which ran the whole width of the house from front to back. A beautiful bright room, with furniture a tasteful blend of old and new.
A lot of people had already arrived. James Fenton, whom Philip had introduced as his partner, detached himself from a group and came towards Nell. 'Hallo, Miss Ramsay. We met in London, if you remember.' He asked her what she would like to drink, and called to a passing girl, 'Come and meet Colonel Whitehead's granddaughter, Bobbie, then you can get her a drink.'
The girl called Bobbie, a curvy blonde with a good deal of make-up, stopped beside them. She was introduced as James' younger sister, but bore little resemblance to him, in either looks or manner. As if he sensed her thoughts James remarked that there were fifteen years between them. 'Sometimes I feel old enough to be her father!'
He stayed beside her, a quiet serious man with courteous manners and an unexpected, dry sense of humour. Nell liked him and they were still talking when Philip, circulating among his guests, stopped for a word. 'Glad you decided to come, Nell. Elizabeth said you might be spending the weekend in London.'
He smiled down at her, and she felt, as so often before in his company, that odd little jolt of discomposure. Other men didn't affect her like this, she thought crossly. She had been getting on splendidly with James Fenton until their host arrived.
Mrs Middleton-Massey approached them, gin and tonic clasped in a large hand. 'Nell, m'dear! Spoken to the girls yet? They're over there with Andrew MacFarlane.'
Nell was about to move in their direction when the older woman clamped a firm hand round her arm. 'Things going all right at home? No repercussions now you're working again?'
She shook her head, very conscious of Philip's eyes on her, and wishing Mrs Middleton-Massey wouldn't ask such personal questions in public.
'As I've told you, my dear man, this girl's had a hard time of it. All the more to her credit that she made the grade, don't you think?'
'Oh, undoubtedly,' Philip agreed smoothly, and studied Nell over the rim of his glass. As if he sensed her embarrassment, James asked her to introduce him to Andrew MacFarlane. Gratefully she moved away with him and under his breath he said, 'That woman handles horses better than humans!'
Nell was delighted to see her old friends again. Pamela Middleton-Massey, who was nearest to her in age, and the only unmarried one, took her into a corner behind the grand piano. 'I don't care if it's anti-social, but it's been such ages, Nell.' They talked for a long time, catching up on each other's affairs, then Pamela leant towards Nell. 'Things have changed around here, haven't they? What do you think of the master of the house?' She asked this half jokingly, but her eyes were intent.
Nell shrugged. 'All right if you like the type.'
'Does that mean you don't?'
'I prefer Mr Fenton.'
'You've got to be joking!' Pamela's eyes opened very wide. An outdoor girl with a good complexion and a sturdy build, in thirty years she would resemble her mother. She was like her already in her outspokenness. 'I could really go for that man,' she said dreamily. 'All that lovely money, and good-looking too! What more can a girl ask?'
Uneasily Nell glanced over her shoulders, but no one was near enough to hear.
It's all right,' Pamela said cheerfully. 'And I know it's no use. There's too much competition. That's part of it over there.' She jerked her head to the group around Philip. He was smiling down at the small blonde girl by his side, James' sister. As they watched, Bobbie slipped a hand through his arm and made some remark that had everyone laughing.
'Unfair, isn't it?' Pamela said wistfully. 'Those little blonde women have it made. And she's his partner's sister, so she's bound to see a lot of him.'
'Do they live near here?' asked Nell.
'In London, I think, but they often come to stay. She rides like a sack of potatoes!' Pamela had her mother's good seat on a horse.
When the last of the visitors had gone they went in to lunch. There were a dozen of them around the big table, an aunt of Philip's, his sister and her family, the Fentons, Nell and her relatives. She sat between James Fenton and Philip's brother-in-law, who spent most of the meal keeping his obstreperous youngsters under control. That left Nell to talk to James, which she thoroughly enjoyed doing. She was in the middle of an animated discussion on modern music when she caught Philip's eye on her. His expression was thoughtful, and when she returned his look with a touch of defiance, he registered open amusement.
James was saying something about Bartok, Whom Nell detested. She said so, to find that Philip had heard her remark, due to a sudden lull in the conversation.
'That makes two of us, Nell. Debussy is modern enough for me.'
Then the conversation opened up again and James remarked casually that she should hear Philip's piano playing. He was good enough to have made a career of it. Nell was intrigued. She glanced at Philip again, studying the strong features and square jaw, the wide shoulders and large but well shaped hands.
'You surprise me,' she admitted. 'I thought he was an outdoor man in his spare time.'
'He is,' James agreed, 'but he has wide interests. Did you notice the paintings in the drawing-room?'
She had, and for that matter there were a couple of modern landscapes on the wall in front of her. Nell knew enough about art to recognise their worth.
'You mean he regards them as an investment?' Now what on earth had made her say that? It
sounded petty, especially when she was in the man's house.
James gave her a straight look. 'You don't know much about Philip if you think that,' he said quietly, and Nell had the grace to blush.
'Well, I don't, Mr Fenton. I haven't really seen a great deal of him, for all that he visits my grandfather so often. I only meant that—that business men do buy paintings with an eye to their market value.'
'Possibly. But Philip isn't really a business man.'
She gazed at him in bewilderment. 'But surely he owns Trent Electronics? The two of you, at least,' she added hastily, thinking that this was her day for unfortunate remarks.
James shook his head. 'Of course he owns it, but the business side is my concern. Philip can't be bothered with it.'
This was even more surprising. 'You mean he's a ... a sleeping partner, don't they call it?' So that explained why he seemed to have so much free time.
James gave his quiet laugh. 'I must tell Philip that! My dear girl, if it wasn't for him there would be no Trent Electronics! He supplies the capital and the brains.' Seeing that she was still at a loss he enlarged. The two of them had met at Cambridge, where James was reading Economics and Philip Mathematics. 'Then he stayed on to do Physics. He has a double First, Miss Ramsay. He was a very brilliant student. The outstanding man in his year.'
'I see,' Nell managed. 'So—so do you mean that he's the firm's chief designer?'
'Right, my dear girl.' James' rather solemn face broke into his rare smile. 'A very talented and creative one. Which is why we're doing so well in the export market.' He went on to tell her that Philip had inherited wealth, so that they had had the initial capital to start the firm, and then Philip's brother-in-law, temporarily relieved of his children by their great-aunt's attention, turned towards her.
While she made polite conversation with him on the surface, Nell was mulling over James' words. She had been so firmly entrenched in her conviction that Philip was a typical go-getting business man that she found it difficult to adjust to die reality. When she had the opportunity she leant towards James and murmured, 'Don't tell Philip what I thought.'
He regarded her gravely. 'Why not, Miss Ramsay?'
'Because he might be offended. After all, it's not very flattering to be thought a—a rich dilettante.'
'All right,' James agreed. 'I won't tell him, though I doubt if he'd be offended. Philip can take a joke against himself.'
Unassailable because of absolute self-confidence, thought Nell. They had reached the liqueur stage, but she decided she had had enough. She didn't want to make any more naive remarks, and alcohol had a bad habit of loosening her tongue.
'You and James seem to hit it off rather well,' commented Philip, stopping beside her as she stood in the hall to admire one of his pictures.
They had just left the dining-room and most people had moved back into the drawing-room. 'I like him,' Nell answered. 'He was telling me how he first got to know you. I had no idea you were a scientist.'
'Hardly that,' he said casually. 'An applied scientist, I suppose, if I must have a label.'
Bobbie Fenton came down the wide curving staircase, make-up fresh, hair newly combed. She seemed the sort of girl who was over-conscious of her appearance and its impact on men. Nell found her tiresome, with her kittenish manner and her exaggerated femininity, but Philip seemed genuinely fond of her. They moved into the drawing-room, the tall man between the two girls. Philip crossed to Colonel Whitehead's side, concerned lest the old man might be overtiring himself.
'There's a sofa next door, if you feel like a nap, sir.'
While her grandfather protested that he had never felt better, Bobbie had a few words with Nell. 'You're not quite what I expected,' she remarked, an odd trace of petulance on her pretty face.
Nell was amused. 'What did you expect, Miss Fenton?'
'Oh ... I don't know ... more of a Women's Libber ... a dedicated career woman.'
'I am a dedicated career Woman,' Nell smiled, then amended that to, 'At least I care about my career. I mean I care about my work.'
'Do you really?' Bobbie asked guilelessly. 'I'm only working until I can find some lovely man to support me.' She accompanied these words with a wistful look in Philip's direction. Though Nell rather despised fluffy, silly little girls, she couldn't help feeling sorry for Bobbie. If she was in love with Philip she was almost certainly in for heartbreak. Brilliant successful men were apt to demand more than just a pretty face.
Elizabeth's mind seemed to work on the same lines. When they were back in their own house, having mugs of hot chocolate before they retired to bed, she asked Nell how she had enjoyed herself.
'It was great, Elizabeth. I didn't expect to have such a good time.'
In fact she had spent most of the afternoon entertaining Philip's nephews and nieces, thereby incurring the gratitude of their hard-pressed parents.
'I'm surprised you enjoyed it. I thought you'd be bored to tears helping with those awful brats.'
'Not awful, just high-spirited.' Nell had always got on well with children, even when they were ill and frightened. The paediatric specialist had once been heard to comment that he would be delighted to have Miss Ramsay as his house physician.
Elizabeth yawned delicately. 'Well, anyway, it was good of you to help out. That silly little sister of James' might have had the decency to do die same, instead of fawning over Philip in that sickening way.'
Nell studied her aunt curiously. Elizabeth's expression was disagreeable. It made her look older and less attractive. 'Not that she has a hope,' the other woman added, speaking more to herself than to her niece. 'Can you see a man like Philip falling for a brainless little idiot like that?'
'Not really. I imagine—when—if he marries, it will be someone very different.'
'Exactly,' Elizabeth agreed, good humour restored. 'Someone mature and intelligent.' She put down her mug, rose and gazed into the mirror that hung just behind her. What she saw appeared to please her, and indeed she looked very attractive tonight, in an amber-coloured dress softly gathered at yoke and waist. In the subdued light of the standard lamp she could have passed as no older than Philip. Was die really thinking of herself when she made that last remark? It looked like it, and for all Nell knew Philip had given Elizabeth good reason to think it.
He had certainly been very attentive today, not only to Colonel Whitehead, but to lie Colonel's daughter. Elizabeth would make an admirable wife for a man who entertained on the scale that Philip did. She was poised, elegant, well bred, and she was undoubtedly very fond of him. In love? Nell didn't know, couldn't imagine her cool reserved aunt losing her head over any man. Would Philip be content with such a relationship? He looked a man of strong feeling. He had undeniable physical attraction.
'Well, I'm for bed,' Elizabeth decided. 'I'll look in to see Father on my way. You needn't bother.'
Although they were on more friendly terms than they had been, there was still the odd moment when Elizabeth needed to stress the fact that she was the one who was closest to the old man. Nell smiled wryly to herself, gathered up the mugs and took them into die kitchen to rinse. She stood at the sink, the tap running, and into her mind flashed a picture of Philip as he had looked this afternoon, when he had stood beside her in the hall.
He had smiled down at her from his considerable height and she, well wined and dined, had felt none of the wariness she usually experienced in his company. In fact she had been momentarily attracted by that blend of toughness and intelligence, a fact which she was reluctant to admit now. And what was she doing, thinking about the wretched man at this hour of the night? she asked herself crossly, then rinsed the mugs out, dried them briskly and took herself off to bed.
On Easter Monday they were staying at home and entertaining some elderly relatives, who lived in the same county. Nell wasn't looking forward to their visit with much enthusiasm, having already seen them on a previous weekend and been submitted to a heavy-handed catechism of her affairs, which had ended
in laboriously expressed disapproval. Great-Uncle Lionel and his wife Marina, with their two spinster daughters, older than Elizabeth and set in their ways! Not an inspiring foursome, thought Nell, as their stately old Bentley, driven by the younger of her two aunts, drew up by the front door.
Even Elizabeth had had some doubts and had asked Nell if she would care to invite some young company round.
But Pamela Middleton-Massey was engaged and she didn't care to inflict her dreary relatives on anyone else. Perhaps there was a good film on television, and if she put herself out to please throughout lunch, they wouldn't think her rude if she disappeared afterwards. They had pheasant, shot on the estate and perfectly cooked by Elizabeth, who was an excellent housewife when she had to he. Nell drank more wine than usual to fortify herself against the relatives, and earned a black mark from Marina as a result. They were lingering over coffee when the telephone rang.
'Would you answer it, Nell?' asked Elizabeth.
A cheerful young voice rang in her ear. 'Can I speak to Nell, please?'
She recognised him at once. 'That's Johnny, isn't it?' Johnny Monckton, who was the elder of Philip's two nephews, and whom she had met yesterday.
'Yes, it is. We were wondering, Nell, if you could bear to come round and play with us? Mum and Dad have gone out and so has Uncle Philip. I wish you would, Nell. We're so bored! There's only a soppy old musical on telly and the little ones keep quarrelling when we play games.'
'But surely your parents haven't left you on your own?' Nell, who had done her stint as a student in the accident department, was horrified at the thought.
' 'Course not. The Prices are here, but they're so boring.'
The Prices were the husband and wife who ran Philip's home so competently. Nell felt sorry for the children. It was rather mean of the adults to leave them to their own devices.
'All right, Johnny, I'll come over for an hour or two. When do you think your parents and your uncle will be back?'
'Dunno! Gosh Nell, that's super. Come right away.'
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