Peter put her parcels down. He straightened up, and amusement crept into his eyes at her confusion. “I happened to have a spare key and as I can smell the distinctive aroma of Sonia’s cooking I knew she wouldn’t be too far away,” he explained.
This was true; Melissa sniffed appreciatively as the savory odors of Sonia’s distinctive Beef Stroganoff wafted under her nose. She decided she was hungry. Shopping for a new public image had given her an appetite.
“Sweetie,” came the plaintive voice from the open door. “Why didn’t you tell me we were out of spice. I had to go all the way to ...” she broke off as she saw Peter, and an odd expression came over her face. Then she was walking towards him, her smile mocking. “Peter, darling!”
She flung her arms around him, and kissed him soundly. He lifted her off her feet and hugged her heartily. Melissa watched, an odd pang twisting at her heart. At last Peter put his cousin down. His face was alight with amusement.
“Well, my pet. Do I detect a look of guilt?”
Guilt, thought Melissa! Now he mentions it, she does have a guilty look on her face. The expression on Sonia’s face faded out quickly.
“Staying for lunch, Darling, or do you have to rush back?”
Peter relaxed back into the armchair and surveyed her through amused eyes. “I’m staying. So set an extra place.”
There was a light tap on the door. Sonia gave the door a quick hunted glance. Peter was on his feet in one quick lithe movement, and opening the door.
“Do come in,” he invited the bewildered Pierre.
Pierre smiled a welcome at the girls and then regarded Peter thoughtfully. Today, Pierre was glorious in purple jeans and pale-lavender satin shirt with a sheepskin jacket over it. The gold earring still gleamed through the tangled curls of his dark hair.
Melissa stifled an urge to giggle. She accepted Pierre so thoroughly these days, she had forgotten how startling his clothes might look to an outsider. Peter inspected him slowly. There was a wry twist to his mouth. He took in the firm jaw and humorous eyes, and his face changed.
“My opposition, I take it?” he drawled and held out his hand.
A long look passed between them. Pierre grinned, flashing strong white teeth in his sleepy smile. Sonia sighed rather crossly.
“Pierre, I would like you to meet my cousin Peter Darcy.”
“I am always very pleased to meet any relation of Sonia’s,” Pierre replied.
“Good,” Peter said cheerfully. “Then you will look forward to meeting Sonia’s grandmother.”
“Don’t be silly, Peter,” Sonia snapped. There was a mulish expression on her face.
“We will visit the grandmother,” Pierre decided. He put a firm arm around Sonia’s waist and looked straight at Peter. “Naturally it is my wish to meet my wife’s people.”
Melissa gasped quite loudly in the stunned silence. Peter’s eyebrows went up and his face went blank, like a man who had received a body blow. Melissa watched him as the courteous mask came down over that blank expression almost immediately.
“We got married last weekend.” Sonia looked at Melissa. She seemed a fraction shame-faced. “I didn’t want anyone to know for a while. You know how the firm is about the staff marrying?”
Melissa broke the paralysis that held her and hugged Sonia warmly, and then Pierre, who hugged her back with equal enthusiasm. The news might have dashed Peter Darcy’s plans, if they were the same as Sonia’s grandmother’s, but she was honestly thrilled that Sonia and Pierre had fallen in love and married.
“You know I’m delighted! I can’t think of anyone nicer for you than Pierre.”
“That’s because you’re a romantic at heart,” Sonia teased.
Peter shook Pierre’s hand, and kissed Sonia. “Well, that is that,” he said quite mildly. “I pledge all my support and approval to this union, and I hope Pierre knows what a handful you are.”
Sonia threw her head back and chuckled loudly. She sounded carefree and happy, and suddenly relaxed. Melissa looked at her with a dawning suspicion. Had Sonia really been nervous about Peter’s reaction to her news?
“So now, madam, you can take your husband down to Grandmother and introduce him,” Peter ordered. “It should cure her obsession about matchmaking.”
“She will keep on matchmaking! Grandmother can’t help herself. There’s still Pamela.”
“I’ll dodge,” Peter promised.
“This lunch you are cooking,” Pierre called from the kitchen.
“Coming, darling,” Sonia answered, and went into the kitchen, still chuckling softly to herself.
Peter looked at Melissa, and she stared back at a loss for words.
“And that disposes of Sonia! Would you like to come out for lunch Miss Morris?”
“Sonia is cooking lunch,” Melissa protested. She felt her heart starting its treacherous fluttering again.
“It’s not quite ready, Sweetie,” Sonia’s voice apologized. “Pierre said I forgot to put in the ...”
“Melissa and I are going out to lunch, so don’t bother,” Peter called back.
Sonia came back into the lounge, tying an apron around her waist. She wrinkled her nose at him. “Bring her down to meet Grandmother, darling,” she suggested. “The weekend is going to be dreary enough as it is.”
“Like to come down again as Miss Melissa Morris?” Peter asked. He gave her a teasing smile. “I throw myself on your mercy. I am going to need someone to protect me from Pamela.”
“I don’t know,” Melissa said.
She was too flustered to think his suggestion through. Even without the wig, there was the ever-present fear of being recognized. Why did he really want her to come down? Did he really need her to protect him from Pamela? Or was it because he was in the mood to find her ridiculous vulnerability amusing?
She stared into his eyes. Was there a shadow of concern as he waited for her answer? He was watching her reaction intently, too intently. Then again, it would be nice to visit that lovely house again without the shadow of deception hanging over her head. Perhaps with Sonia around, the Davenports wouldn’t be so unpleasant.
“Do come,” Sonia insisted, sensing her weakening. “You can give Pierre moral support. Hustle off and pack and Peter can bring you down after lunch.”
“Please,” Pierre coaxed. “You can see I need moral support. Without you I shall shake like the gelatine.”
“Jelly,” giggled Sonia.
Melissa took a deep breath to refuse and then stopped herself. Why not, she thought defiantly? She wasn’t doing anything else for the weekend.
“Give me five minutes to pack,” she said with determination.
Six
Melissa hurried into the bedroom with her parcels. She packed with frantic haste. The dinner dress with its matching shoes, the bright skirt and soft shirt went into her case, with others of her new purchases. She closed the case firmly.
She gave herself no time to even think about her decision. In a few more seconds she had pulled the vivid jumper over her head. She changed into the well-cut slacks, and shrugged the lemon jacket over her shoulders as she went out the door, grabbing her handbag and the packed case on the way through.
Pierre whistled his appreciation, and Peter gave a slow smile.
“Plumage certainly makes the bird, Sweetie. You look just right.” Sonia’s approval was genuine as she inspected Melissa’s new purchases.
Melissa flushed at the unaccustomed compliment and the admiration on the faces around her.
“All in five minutes, too,” Peter praised.
Pierre gave Sonia a visible nudge. “Take a lesson.”
”Back to the pots, or you won’t get fed,” Sonia threatened him, as she hustled him back through the kitchen door.
“Come on,” Peter said, as he picked up Melissa’s case. “I know a place where we can get some well-done roast beef and no trimmings.”
“Still narrow-minded,” retorted Sonia’s voice from the kitchen. ”Why don’t y
ou live dangerously and try some decent cooking?”
“Because I respect my stomach,” Peter called back.
He was still chuckling as he locked the case into the boot of his car. Melissa was quiet. She had followed Peter out of the flat with relief. She loved Sonia and was fond of Pierre, but together they were an overpowering combination.
As they strolled down the street towards the small corner hotel, Melissa’s doubts returned. Perhaps it had been unwise to agree to the weekend? Without the spur of Sonia’s forceful, reckless encouragement, she started to have second thoughts. She was naturally a cautious person and didn’t like jumping into a situation feet first like Sonia and Peter. Perhaps she had made the wrong decision.
“Penny for them?” Peter asked.
He looked concerned and a bit amused. Melissa thought again how eerie it was that he could follow her feelings and thoughts so closely. His next words showed how closely he was following her reactions.
“Would you rather not come down for the weekend? Sonia is a steam-roller of a female when she makes up her mind about anything.”
Melissa tried to straighten out her muddled thinking. Under his steady gaze she immediately felt as if she were being over-emotional and imaginative in dreading the weekend. This was no way for the new-image Melissa to act! She tried to control her growing uneasiness and managed a smile.
“Nonsense,” she heard herself saying. “I’m sure Pierre would like a friendly face around.”
“If Pierre is the man I take him for, he can cope with the Davenports and Grandmother,” Peter replied cheerfully. He squeezed her arm as he guided her across the crowded dining room to the table for two by the window. "I’m the one who needs the friendly face of Miss Melissa Morris around."
Something inside Melissa gave a warning twinge, but she ignored it. She relaxed and started recounting some of Sonia’s excursions into exotic cookery. By the time they had finished and were drinking their coffee, she felt as if she had known Peter all her life. The slight constraint that had been between them seemed to have vanished. She was halfway through her recital of the incident of Sonia and the kangaroo soup when his face closed up. She faltered, wondering what she had said to offend him.
“Peter, Darling,” a voice purred over her shoulder.
A wave of expensive perfume swamped the air. Melissa knew who it was even before she turned around. Pamela Davenport ignored her as she watched Peter, her eyes alert and triumphant.
“I hoped I might bump into you. I remember that this was one of your haunts. Can you be a pet and give me a lift down to the house? My car is off the road for the weekend.”
“Of course, Pamela,” Peter agreed smoothly. “Have you met Melissa Morris? She is coming down for the weekend as well.”
Melissa nodded at her, wondering if Pamela would recognize her. The other girl’s eyes passed over her indifferently.
“Pleased to meet you, Melissa.” Her voice was cold to the point of insult. Then her green eyes softened as she smiled at Peter. “You don’t mind, Darling?”
“Of course not.”
Peter paused at the desk to pay and to collect the case that Pamela indicated.
They walked back to the car. The pavement wasn’t wide enough for the three of them to walk abreast. Peter carried the case, and Pamela walked beside him. Melissa followed with as good a grace as she could in the rear. As Pamela reached the car first, she slid into the front seat as if it were her right and looked at Melissa.
“Will you be all right in the back?”
Melissa got into the small back seat without a word. Somehow the fine glow had gone out of the afternoon. She was intimidated by Pamela. Posing as Sonia she had some sort of an edge over her, but as plain Melissa Morris she was a nobody, and Pamela was quick to make that apparent.
All the way down, Pamela monopolized the conversation. She discussed the business, and mutual friends and entertainment. Peter spoke in absent monosyllables, but Pamela kept on a continuous conversation that excluded Melissa.
It was dusk before the car threaded its way through the high hedge-lined lane that led to the high gates of Pengleat. It was only then that Pamela directly addressed a remark to Melissa.
“Actually, Melissa, you remind me of someone, but I can’t decide who.”
“Probably Sonia,” Peter suggested smoothly, as the silence lengthened with Melissa tongue tied and squirming. “Same shaped face.”
“Sonia!” exclaimed Pamela.
She turned around to examine Melissa’s face more closely, but in the dusk Melissa’s face was only a pale blur.
“I don’t think so,” she said with a dismissing contempt. “After all, Sonia is very outstanding in looks, and ...” She let her voice trail off into the unspoken insult. Melissa relaxed. The lack of recognition was high praise for her acting ability.
At last, the car pulled to a stop at the front door. An outside light lit up the steps leading to the front door, and the fanlight above it glowed warmly through the darkness. Peter came up the steps behind the girls, carrying their cases. The door opened, and the old man watched in silence as they came into the hall.
“Miss Morris is here for the night. Is the gold room made up?”
The old man nodded without replying and shuffled off, taking Pamela’s case. Pamela left them without a word to follow him. Melissa and Peter went in the other direction up the curving, graceful staircase together. She paused for a second on the landing to study again the massive oil painting. Peter nudged at her to keep moving and led her to the door at the end of the passage. He opened it and put her case inside.
“Ten minutes to change, and I’ll see you downstairs.”
Melissa turned on the light-switch and walked over to the window to close the gold drapes. The room was similar to Sonia’s room, tastefully decorated with a gold color scheme, even to the tight-budded golden roses in the yellow vase on the dressing table, and the room again dominated by another massive four-poster bed.
Melissa changed into the pink crushed velvet dinner dress and the matching slippers. The reflection in the mirror didn’t look a bit like Sonia this time. She brushed her shining brown hair until it bounced into curls around her face. The dress gave her face a pink glow, and her grey eyes sparkled with all the confidence a becoming dress could give.
Once down in the hall, she paused for a shy second at the partly open double doors before moving in. The Davenports looked up as she entered. They looked, thought Melissa, as if they had been sitting there since the previous time, in the same clothes and in the same positions.
Peter came forward, elegant and well groomed in his dinner jacket, and formally introduced her.
“This is Sonia’s flat mate, Miss Melissa Morris. Melissa, Mr. and Mrs. Davenport.”
Uncle Harold gave her a sharp nod, and Aunt Cynthia tried a thin smile, but neither of them spoke. Pamela entered the room in a cloud of perfume. She also had changed in record time, and was severe in a green clinging frock that matched her eyes, with her dark hair dragged up in a smooth chignon. She brushed past Melissa without a word, and took up her position in front of the fire.
“What about the sherry, Darling,” she prompted.
Peter started to pour out drinks. He paused. In the silence, the roar of a supercharged engine snarled its way up the driveway and then subsided with a sullen mutter.
“Sounds like Sonia,” he remarked.
“Don’t say that we’re going to have the pleasure of her company again?” Aunt Cynthia sniffed and gave a short laugh. “The house will probably fall down.”
Pamela gave her mother a sharp glance. ”Is she really coming down again this weekend?” she asked.
“I believe so.” Peter sounded casual, and concentrated on passing around the drinks
There was the murmur of voices and the sound of a door closing. About ten minutes later Sonia came into the drawing room with Pierre following her. Uncle Harold straightened up, his chin jutting out. His eyes gleamed his dislike
behind his glasses at her appearance.
Melissa saw his jaw drop a fraction, and Aunt Cynthia stiffened as Pierre entered. Pierre had changed into a shabby tweed jacket, but the effect was spoiled by the lavender satin shirt beneath it. Sonia grinned broadly as she surveyed his effect on her relatives.
“Aunt Cynthia, Uncle Harold, Pamela, do meet my new husband Pierre.”
Pierre gave a formal bow, his gold earring glinting as it caught the light. Uncle Harold let out his breath in an explosive sigh.
“’Pon my word, Sonia, married ...” He couldn’t continue, his shrewd eyes studying Pierre.
Aunt Cynthia looked Pierre over, slowly and with distaste, and gave an indifferent nod. The twinkle in Pierre’s eyes deepened as he watched her reaction.
“How romantic,” Pamela gushed, and kissed Sonia. She looked genuinely happy at the news. “Peter, darling,” she continued. “Open up the champagne. This requires a celebration.”
Sonia winked at Melissa. “Certainly does! Come on, Peter, out with the champagne.”
Peter delved into the refrigerator, disguised behind a facade of wood paneling, and everyone toasted the happy couple. Melissa suspected that the aunt and uncle weren’t very sincere in their good wishes, but Sonia didn’t seem to care.
The dinner was a contrast to the gloominess of her previous visit. Sonia bubbled over with good-humor and radiant happiness, and her happiness lightened the entire dining table. Once again, Melissa wondered how she could have been so intrepid as to think she could have impersonated Sonia.
“Must say, you seem to be in a better mood this time,” her uncle muttered.
“The company I keep,” Sonia explained with a broad smile.
After the meal, they returned to the drawing room for their coffee. Pamela went out of her way to pointedly snub Melissa, trying to make it very obvious that her presence as an outsider in the family was unwelcome. Melissa tried not to let her annoyance at the older girl’s rudeness show.
Sonia’s blue eyes started to flash dangerously, but then Peter settled himself next to his guest and Pamela relapsed into a sulky silence. Uncle Harold was probing Pierre about his background.
The Lonely Heart Page 6