Harlequin Omnibus: Take Me with You, Choose What You Will, Meant for Each Other

by Mary Burchell

  "Of course I'll tell her," Thea promised. "And I think I can understand how she feels about him. Somehow you don't want to know about his faults, and would much rather think well of him."

  "Oh, you women!" grinned Stephen. But added good-naturedly, "Have it your own way. Now tell me what you're going to do with yourself now that you're through with school."

  So Thea explained about the idea of taking a business training course, and, unlike Geraldine, he enthusiastically approved. But, as Thea discovered at once, from an ulterior motive.

  "Then you can come and work in the offices of our firm," he declared. "We're very important and go-ahead and frightfully good to the staff, bfice, light offices, Christmas bonuses, dowry on marriage, and all that sort of thing."

  Thea laughed a good deal.

  "Wait until I'm trained," she said. "And anyway, Mr.

  Varlon has offered to get me into the office of one of the theaters."

  "Oh, you can't do that, *' Stephen declared.

  *'Why not?" Thea demanded obstinately, forgetting that she had already refused Lindsay Varlon's good offices in this direction.

  "Well, you can*t," retorted Stephen just as obstinately. "It's all right for him to meet you at the station and all that, and read the riot act to Geraldine about you, but you can*t go tagging around the theater world as a protegee of his. No, really, you can't. I wouldn 't allow it."

  "y<9wwouldn't allow it! I like that."

  "So do I. It sounds good, doesn't it?"

  And Stephen grinned at her in such a friendly way that she laughed and said, "Oh, well, as a matter of fact, I did refuse. I told him I'd rather work on my own merits and not have strings pulled for me."

  "That's right," agreed Stephen heartily, although he seemed perfectly prepared to "pull strings" at his own office if necessary.

  "Tell me something," Thea said, half persuasively, half diffidently.

  "Anything," Stephen promised expansively.

  "Is Mr. Varlon—well, has he what's called a bad reputation?"

  "Not a bad one,"Stephen said. "A doubtful one."

  "Oh." Thea digested that and then asked, "What*s the difference?"

  "Well, you wouldn't hear anyone say, *See that girl with the red hair over there—she's Lmdsay Varlon's latest.' And so far as I know, he's never rented a West End apartment for anyone, or hit the headlines in a divorce case. But—well, there's a general impression abroad that he's pretty swift where your sex is concerned, and I don't imagine he's ever asked the price of wedding rings, if you get my meaning."

  "Yes. I think I do," Thea said. "In other words, there's nothing specific against him, but people like to think he's capable or nearly anything."

  ^'That's about it." Stephen laughed. "And I'm not at all sure that he doesn't encourage the notion himself"

  "But why should he?"

  "Oh, good for box office and all that, you know,"Stephen

  explained carelessly. "Most women prefer a devil to a domestic animal, so long as it's not on their own hearth. Besides I expect it saves him all the usual trouble with designing mammas and respectable marriageable daughters."

  "It sounds a bit farfetched," Thea said.

  "Most things about Lin are farfetched," retorted Stephen. "He had an incredible record as an airman during the war, you know. That^as farfetched, if you like."

  "Did he?"

  Thea was interested and would have asked more, but at that moment Stephen said, "We've only about a quarter of a mile to go now. Home is just over the next hill."

  Thea smiled appreciatively at the almost naive way he said that, and thought how nice it must be to have a place that was so simply and unquestionably "home."

  Stephen Dorley's home was one of those charming, frienoly, quite small country houses that you find dotted all over the hills and fields of Surrey. It had a big, not very tidy garden; it was a little too far away from any station to be very accessible; and it definitely did not have the very latest modern conveniences.

  And yet, somehow, its occupants contrived to be amazingly comfortable. Jeanette Dorley herself, who came to the door to welcome them almost before the car stopped, must, Thea could see, have been something of a beauty in her youth. She was still handsome in a gay, laughing, colorful way, with fine eyes like her brother, but with absolutely none of his worldly, disillusioned expression.

  "Comein,my dear. I've heard such a lot about you." She took both Thea s hands in a warm, capable clasp.

  "Stephen shouldn't have brought you down in that horrible open thing. You must be frozen."

  "It was that or walk two miles from the station," Stephen said, as he kissed his mother with great affection. "And my good little tin Lizzie makes us independent of trains back to town this evening. Hello, Darry— as a large cat strolled negligently forward, wound gracefully around his legs, and indulgently arched a back in order to be stroked.

  "His name is really Darius," Mrs. Dorley explained. "We called him that because we could see immediately that he was going to be a Persian tyrant. But it's a diflficult name

  to call, and I'm afraid it's degenerated into Darry. Do you like cats?"

  Thea said she did and knelt down to stroke him and rub him under his rather haughty chin. Immediately, with the unpredictable favoritism of cats, he flung himself against her, while purrs broke forth as though an organ stop had been pulled out.

  *'0n, isn't he nice?" Thea sat down on the floor and hugged him. "I've never had a cat. One couldn't in lodgings, you know, and—"

  Suddenly she became aware of the very kindly, sympathetic quality of the silence around her, and looking up quickly she saw that both Stephen and his mother were watchmg her with indulgent smiles. And beyond them, standing in the sitting-room doorway with his hands in his pockets, stood Lindsay Varlon, and he, too, was smiling as though the sight of Thea sitting on the ground with a large cat was a very pleasing one.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Why, hello, Mr. Varlon!"

  Feeling slightly foolish and exceedingly pleased, Thea scrambled to her feet.

  "Hello, Lin. I didn't know you were going to be down here, *' Stephen said at the same moment.

  "And I didn't know I should find you two down here, either," Lindsay Varlon said, as he came forward and took the hand Thea held out rather shyly to him.

  "I thought you might as well all have your pleasant surprise simultaneously," Mrs. Dorley explained. "So I. didn't tell Lin, though he arrived about an hour before you. Would you like to come upstairs and take your things off, dear?" she added, turning to Thea. "And Stephen, you and Lin had better go and see about drinks."

  Thea followed her hostess up the wide, shallow stairs, while Stephen and his uncle went into the lounge, and Darius, finding with displeased surprise that he was no longer the center of attraction, also sauntered back into the lounge, where he took up the most comfortable position by the fire without appearing to notice that he was doing so.

  "What a lovely house, Mrs. Dorley," Thea said, as she stood before the mirror combing her hair in the pretty, informal, chintz-hung bedroom, which suddenly made her room at Geraldine's seem a Uttle like a place on the stage.

  "Do you like it?" Mrs. Dorley smiled. "I'm very fond of it, though of course it's quite old-fashioned and not at all convenient."

  "But its got'atmosphere,' "Thea said.

  "Has it? What sort of atmosphere?"

  "Oh, nice and homey and ... and real."

  Mrs. Dorley laughed.

  '*It's funny you should say that. Lin always says that something happens to him when he comes down here and that he's much more a real person than he ever is in London.'*

  "I can quite imagine it." Thea nodded. **rm so glad Mr. Varlon came today," she added quite simply. "He's been so awfully kind to me, you know." And she immediately seized the opportunity of making good her promise to Stephen, and told Mrs. Dorley about Lindsay Varlon fetching her from the station.

  ^'So he should," declared Mrs. Dorley, but her eyes brightene
d quite unmistakably. *'Geraldine ought to have been ashamed of herself for not going herself."

  "I think she was rather ashamed and sorry afterward, Mrs. Dorley," Thea said hastily. "She's been very kind to me since."

  "I'm glad to hear it. Did she say she was sorry?"

  "N-not exactly. But she's been extremely generous to me and even put money for me in the bank so that I shall have something to draw on," Thea explained earnestly, feeling that justice must be done to Geraldine who seemed to hold such a poor place in the esteem of the Dorleys.

  But Mrs. borley laughed as incredulously as her son had done.

  "Geraldine! She put money in the bank for someone other than herself? She must have been conscience-stricken!"

  Thea laughed a little dubiously, and Mrs. Dorley added, "Well, I mustn't stay here making spiteful insinuations against Geraldine. You take your own time, my dear, but if you don't mind, I'm going to run down to the kitchen. My old Emma will do most things for me, but nowadays she says she 'can't take the responsibility of dishing up all to the inoment on her own.'''

  j "That's quite all right." Thea smiled at her hostess in the toirror. "I can find my way down, Mrs. Dorley." ' When she came into the lounge, she found it was a long, toleasant room, running the full length of the house from oack to front, with windows at both ends, and the only person in it was Varlon. 1 "Come and get warm, Thea." He smiled at her in a way

  that reminded her of what his sister had said about his being a much more "real'* person down here.

  Thea came forward slowly to the fireplace where a big wood fire was throwing out a faint resinous odor, and she stood looking down at it with great pleasure.

  *'How did you enjoy the play on Friday evening?" he inquired.

  "Oh, immensely!" She looked up again and smiled. *' Geraldine 's splendid, isn 't she?''

  "Yes. It's one of the best things she's ever done."

  "I was glad when-you came on the stage at the end, too."

  "Were you? Why?" he wanted to know in some surprise.

  "Oh, because it was nice to see you," Thea said simply. "I clapped like anything. Did you notice?"

  He laughed.

  "I expect that was the embarrassing burst of applause that I heard from the fifth row," he said teasingly.

  "I'm sure you weren't embarrasssed," Thea retorted. "I can't imagine anything in the world that would embarrass you."

  "I was a good deal embarrassed the other evening to find myself in the role of golden-hearted protector of youthful innocence," he assured her.

  "You were not," Thea declared, twisting around so that she could really look up into his interestmg, clever face. "You were thoroughly enjoying the situation most of the time." He laughed. "And perfectly capable of handling it in all its details," she added. "By the way, I haven t yet thanked you for even sending Stephen to look after me on Friday evening. You thought of everything."

  "I think Stephen feels the thanks are due from him." Varlon smiled down at her. "But he played his part all right, did he?"

  "Perfectly. As producer, you may be entirely satisfied with that performance,"Thea said.

  "I'm glad. How are you settling down with Geraldine now?"

  "Mr. Varlon, she's really made up handsomely for... for not being very kind at first."

  "So?"

  "Yes. Did you—" Thea glanced at him as though some thought had suddenly struck her "—did you speak to her

  ibout me after that first evening? I mean later, when you )oth went to the theater and left me at home?''

  "We naturally mentioned the subject.*'

  "I don't just mean that. Did you—well, take her to task for lot being kind tome?" p

  "I haven't sufficient influence with Geraldine to'take her

  0 task' for anything,'' he said gravely.

  *'Well, someone mfluenced her to be kind and generous," rhea insisted with a puzzled frown. '* Unless

  "Perhaps it was just a case of her better nature prevail-ng," Varlon suggested, still with that half-mocking gravity.

  But Thea rejected that without even a comment.

  "Someone mfluenced her to be generous," she repeated.

  "Unless—Mr. Varlon, may I ask you something fright-iilly personal and—and rather impertinent?"

  "I expect so."

  "Well—" she stroked Darius with a nervous vigor, which le obviously resented "—is it Geraldine's own money that ;he 's spending on me?''

  "How should I know the answer to that, child? Geraldine joesn't discuss her private financial affairs with me."

  "No. But—" in tier earnestness she turned toward him igain and put her arm on his knee as she looked up at him '—you aren't providing the money, are you?"

  "My dear Thea!" She couldn't tell from his tone and expression whether he were annoyed or amused.

  And then Mrs. Dorley came in and said that lunch was ready.

  It was served in a smaller room where the window looked Dver the long sloping garden.

  "It looks rather drab just now, I'm afraid," Mrs. Dorley 5aid regretfully. "But you'll see in the spring and summer, Thea, that it's a very pretty garden,"

  "I'm sure it is," Thea said warmly and gave Mrs. Dorley a happy smile, because her remark so clearly indicated that 5he took it for granted Thea would be a frequent visitor there.

  1 Indeed, that was the implication that ran through all Mrs. Dorley's conversation, and Thea supposed—with some gratification—that Stephen must have spoken of her in very [flowing terms when he had telephoned his mother to tell ner of their impending visit.

  After lunch Stephen took Thea for a walk over the hills,

  gointing out to her the places he had especially loved as a oy, and eagerly demanding her admiration for things that were evidently still very dear to him.

  She thought this was Stephen in his very nicest mood. He was so fresh and unaffected and frank that she found herself calling him Stephen and letting him call her Thea without any of the forethought or misgiving that had attended allowing Lindsay Varlon the same minor privilege.

  Presently a sharp downpour drove them indoors again, Stephen bewailing the fact that this was the one thing that showed up his beloved car to disadvantage.

  "Though I daresay it will clear later," he added with his usual optimism.

  Mrs. Dorley was of a different opinion, however.

  "It's set in for a wet evening, I'm afraid. And in that case you certainly can't take the poor child back in that open car, "she declared.

  "We'll be all right with the top up," Thea said, seeing that Stephen resented the slight to his car. But he immediately admitted generously that the top had been known to leak, and perhaps she would be better in Lin's car.

  Thea glanced quickly at Varlon.

  "I'll be very pleased to take you both," he said. "And Stephen can fetcn the other car some day next week."

  Stephen, however, seemed to think he would need his beloved companion before then.

  "Well, in that case, Thea had better come with me— unless, of course, it stops raining before then. Though I 'm bound to say, Jeannette—" Varlon glanced out of the window "—that I agree with you about the unlikeliness of that.'*

  And so it proved, for the rain continued to pour down steadily all through the evening.

  "It looks like the Rolls for you, Thea, instead of my poor old eirl," Stephen said with a grin during dinner. "But you 'Tl certainly get back to town faster in Lin's car."

  "I would have enjoyed the ride in either," Thea declared with what Varlon told her smilingly was the perfection of tact.

  And Stephen took his disappointment good-naturedly enough, especially when his mother said, "Well, dear.

  you'll be coming down here on plenty of fine evenings, I j hope, later in the year, and Stepnen will bring you for a I weekend as soon as the garden is nice enough to sit in. *'

  "Thank you very much." Thea smiled gratefully. 'Tm

  going to work frightfully hard in the next few months, you

&nb
sp; know. And then when I m all independent and standing on

  [ my own feet, I shall love it if I can come here and relax for a

  weekend. It will be something to look forward to. '*

  "All right. But I shall be seeing you before then, I hope." Mrs Dorley kissed her goodbye with a warmth that made Thea hug her suddenly. "Take care of her, Lin, and don't let her work too hard, even if that is the program for the moment."

  Her brother smiled, though he didn't actually answer that, and Thea had the pleasant impression that he secretly approved of her eagerness to be independent at the earliest possible moment.

  In spite of the rain, Stephen himself saw to it that she was comfortably installed in tne car.

  "May I call you one day next week and take you dancing in the evening?" he asked.

  "If I haven't already started at business college and have too much homework to go gadding about."

  "Oh, gosh! You're eoing to have a little time for fun, aren't you?" demanded Stephen protestingly.

  "I'll see." Thea refused to be drawn. "But do ring me anyway, and I'll tell you how things are. And now go in out of the rain. There's no need to be gallant to the point of getting pneumonia. Mr. Varlon will look after me very well. He's already had plenty of experience.''

  She heard Varlon laugh slightly as Stephen grinned and withdrew his head from the window of the car and stepped back into the porch to brush the rain from his coat. For a moment she saw him and his mother outlined in the light from the open door and thought what a dear and friendly couple they had somehow become in so short a space of time. Then Varlon leaned forward and rolled up the window of the car, and a moment later the Rolls was purring down the short driveway and out into the open road.

  "What a nice family you have," Thea remarked contentedly, as she settled back comfortably in her seat.

  He smiled.

  "Yes, haven't I?''

  "And now, Mr. Varlon, I want to talk seriously to you." Thea turned determinedly to face him.

  "Do you really? What have I been doing?** he inquired lazily.