Her mother was sitting playing Patience. "My dear, how lovely to see you!"
Stella ran across and embraced her so convulsively that Mrs. Percy drew back in surprise. "Why, darling, what's the matter?"
"Everything, Mother!" She burst into tears. "I've left Matthew — for good!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
MATTHEW was lying propped up by pillows on the narrow white hospital bed when Jess opened the door and came in.
"It's good to see you looking more like yourself." She kissed his cheek. "How do you feel?"
"Not bad." He touched the" bandage on his head. "This makes me look worse than I am."
"It was quite a crack, so you'd better not be in a hurry to get up. I've brought you some fruit and books."
"Thanks." His eyes searched her face. "I was hoping Stella would come with you. How is she?"
"Fine. She hopes you'll get better soon."
He turned his head on the pillow. "Ted was here before you and he said she saved my life.' Tell her to come and see me. I want to thank her."
"You'll have to write," Jess said bluntly. "She's gone."
He was suddenly very still, his skin grey. "Gone where?"
"To London. Perhaps I shouldn't have told you so soon, but I didn't-think it would be a surprise. After all, you knew she was going."
"When I heard how wonderful she had been, I thought… I hoped…" he sighed. "More fool me."
"I know what you hoped," Jess said awkwardly, "but Stella helped you the same way she would have helped anyone."
"You mean she only did for me what she'd have done for a stranger?" He closed his eyes. "I suppose you're right. It seems I'll never learn — not even the hard way."
"I'm sorry it's turned out like this."
"Are you? I expected you to say 'I told you so.’ You've every right to — you warned me in the beginning."
"I know, but that was before I understood how much she meant to you."
"And still does."
"Then why did you act so stupidly?" Jess burst out "It was crazy of you to go to Belle because you quarrelled with Stella. You may be clever in business but you know nothing about women! No girl would stay with her husband if she knew he'd gone to another woman just because they had a row!"
"Stella didn't love me when she married me," Matthew said quietly.
"I guessed that."
He hesitated. "We were never man and wife ether."
Jess caught her breath. "So that was it! Well, even if she had wanted to change her mind about you, pride wouldn't have let her after you went to Belle. She was wrong to give you a reason to go, but you were wrong to take it! Not many women would have forgiven you — you have to love a man very much for that It's when you don't love him that you expect such a lot from him."
A grim smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Then she must have loved me very little indeed."
The silence lengthened and Jess stood up. "The best thing to do is cut your losses and begin again."
"I don't intend to marry anyone else, if that's what you mean!" A feverish patch of colour stained his cheeks. "I'm not a young man to let myself in for something like this a second time."
"You're not old either!. How do you intend to spend the rest of your life — with Belle?"
He shook his head, "I've lost my taste for just any woman. It's either the right one or none at all."
"Well, the sooner you're better the sooner you'll have something to occupy your mind. You'd best concentrate on getting fit."
In the ensuing days Matthew could think of nothing except Stella, her face constantly in his mind's eye as he brooded over the past unhappy months. What high hopes he had cherished when he had brought her to Grey Walls, and how quickly misunderstandings had put an end to them! Would it have been different if they had gone away on their honeymoon or would she have turned against him in any case? Was Jess right when she had said that by going to Belle he had made it impossible for Stella to stay even if she had wanted to? Whatever way he looked at it, he and Stella had been incompatible from the beginning: only his blind folly had stopped him realizing it.
Yet he could not stop himself from reliving the hours when he had held her in his arms, when — after her first terror — she had clung to him and returned his kisses, wanting him as much as he had wanted her. But it was crazy to interpret that as love; all it proved was his expertise as a lover and Stella's ability to respond to it. He had to stop thinking about her. Had to make his life again.
So persistently did he argue with his doctor, that within ten days of the accident he was back at his desk, working with such intensity that his staff began to dread his arrival in the morning.
Not even his most intimate friends knew Stella had left him, and if they wondered at her absence, they respected his privacy too well to question him. The only person who ventured to ask him about it was Ned, who did so when the two men sat alone over coffee and brandy after dinner one evening.
"There are a few rumours floating around about you and Stella," he said casually. "Don't you think you ought to do something about it? People are talking."
"Let 'em talk! Keep their tongues wagging about one thing and. they'll not wag about something else."
Ned's face creased into an awkward grin. "Well, you've given 'em enough gossip in the past few months to last a Lifetime. I suppose it's none of my business, but if it would help you to talk about it…"
Matthew rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I'll tell you one day, Ned — I'd rather not talk about it now."
Although at one time Matthew would have ridiculed the suggestion that a woman's presence could remain long after she had gone, wherever he went in Grey Walls he was reminded of Stella. It was hard to believe a person of such nebulous qualities should have imprinted her personality so deeply, but a bowl of flowers set on the! dark table of the hall, the open lid of the piano or even the firelight shadowing the room — brought her so vividly to mind that he could not bear to be at home for long, and when he was not working at the office he would tramp the countryside for miles, returning so exhausted that he would fall asleep the instant he flung himself on the bed.
For Stella, too, the time dragged. It was impossible to lead the life she had lived before her marriage. Meeting married girl friends brought home to her the ambiguity of her own position, and as the weeks passed she dropped out of circulation. It was hard, too, to bear her mother's assumption that she had left Matthew because of Charles, and though at first she had been too weary to argue with her, once the emotional upheaval of her return home wore off, her natural resilience came back.
"I knew your marriage wouldn't be a success," Mrs. Percy said complacently, one morning a month after her return. "I had a feeling Fate was planning something for Charles, but when it did, you were already tied to that boor."
"Don't call Matthew a boor! And I've already told you my leaving him had nothing to do with Charles."
“You might not think so consciously, but I'm sure it was in the back of your mind. You know you only need say the word and hell ask you to marry him."
"As I'm still married to Matthew, that would be difficult."
"Really Stella. Yorkshire not only sharpened your appetite, it's sharpened your temper too."
"Sorry Mother, but it's your own fault. Don't keep going on about my marrying Charles."
"But he's so right for you."
"I'm not free," Stella hedged.
"You can soon change that. Matthew surely won't try to keep you? He always struck me as the sort of man who'd cut his losses as fast as he could."
"You're probably right," Stella said. "But I intend leaving it to him. At the moment I'm concerned with getting a job."
"What nonsense! Matthew must support you."
"There's no must about it! You can't say anything nice about him, yet you'd be quite happy to see him keeping me!"
"One thing has nothing to do with the other. Some husbands are monsters, but they still keep their wives in luxury."
/>
"Matthew isn't a monster and I don't want to be kept in luxury! I’ve accepted quite enough from him already, without taking any more."
"Rubbish! It's only right —"
"Hullo, you two! Am I interrupting a row?"
They looked round as Adrian came into the room, preposterously good-looking in blue sweater and slacks.
"Have you had tea?" his mother asked.
"No, Ma, I'd love some. I won't be having supper till late — going to the theatre."
"Then I'll make you some sandwiches as well."
Mrs. Percy hurried out and Stella wondered why mothers spoilt their sons so much more than their daughter.”
Adrian' sprawled in an armchair. "You're looking serious, old girl."
"I was thinking what a lot of good it would do you to go away from home and stand on your Own feet."
"What would I use for money? Matthew's allowance barely covers my expenses living at home. It certainly wouldn't stretch to digs."
"You may soon have to manage without his allowance altogether."
He was immediately on the alert. "Are you joking?"
"No, I’ve left Matthew and I'd rather you didn't go on accepting money from him."
"Changed your tune all of a sudden, haven't you?" he said. "One of your reasons for marrying nun was to help me."
"Only one of the reasons,'' she echoed. "I also thought we stood a chance of being happy together — that our marriage would work out Unfortunately it didn't, and it would make things less embarrassing if we didn't accept any more help from him."
"Forget the 'we'," Adrian said. "You needn't accept anything if you don't want to, but it doesn't embarrass me to do so."
"Well it should! I don't want you to take any more money from him."
"No can do," he said laconically, and suddenly 'lost his temper. "Darn it all, Stella, you cant expect me to leave the Academy now. I'm just beginning to get somewhere… to attract attention. I won't give it up — and certainly not in order to save your pride! You should have thought of that before you started the whole thing. You've no right to back down now."
"Things have changed."
"For you, maybe. Not for me. The piano is the only thing I care about."
"And gambling!"
"Yes, you can fling that at me. But I haven't asked you for anything lately, have I?"
"I should hope not!"
"I won't either." He was serious. "That part of my life is finished. From now on it's music. Believe me, Stella, I mean it."
Her anger evaporated as she looked into his eyes. "I'll try and pay for your tuition. I'll get a job and give you every penny."
He whistled soundlessly. "You really do care about taking Matthew's money. I hadn't realised…" He shrugged. "But the whole discussion is academic. He's already paid the fees for the whole time I'm likely to be there, and fixed an allowance for me too."
"What? But when?"
"I got a letter from a firm of stockbrokers this morning. They said he had invested some money with them and arranged for me to have the interest on it for the next five years. I guess he must have known what you wanted to do. This is' his way of showing you it isn't necessary."
Speechless, Stella buried her head in her hands. She was conscious of Adrian coming to stand beside her, and felt his hand stroking her hair.
"Don't be upset, Stell. If Matthew hadn't wanted to help me — if he thought we were taking advantage of him — he would have stopped my allowance like a shot I don't know why you left him — at least not the real reason — but whatever it is, he still wants to help you. Making this arrangement for me, is his way of letting you know it."
"I suppose so," she sighed. "But it puts me so much in his debt."
"Perhaps he feels in your debt too."
Mrs. Percy's entrance with the trolley prevented farther conversation, and Stella went to her room, anxious to be alone. Talking about Matthew brought him so vividly to mind that she could almost imagine he was here. Going to the, window, she pushed it wide open, longing for a breath of the pure, fresh ah- that blew in from the moors and the sound of a blunt Yorkshire voice. How warm and real. Matthew was compared with the husbands of her friends; how much more down to earth and natural! Resting her cheek against the curtain she tried to hold back her tears. "What have I thrown away?" she cried. "What can I do with the rest of my life?"
The door opened and Mrs. Percy came in with a cup of tea. "Do have this, darling. It will do you good." She studied her daughter carefully. "Adrian just told me what Matthew has done. It was rather — rather nice of him."
"Yes," Stella said automatically.
"You shouldn't let it worry you. He can easily afford it." Then hastily- "I mean think how pleased he'll be when Adrian's a success. Hell be able to say he helped him achieve it!"
This was the last credit in the world Stella could envisage Matthew claiming. How little her mother understood his genuine kindness. "Adrian has to be a success first," she commented dryly.
"He will."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I know him." Seeing her daughter's sarcastic look, she said defensively: "Wait till you have a son of your own. Then you'll understand."
Stella set down her cup. She had never thought about children. Now the idea of a sturdy little boy with Matthew's blunt features and bright blue eyes tugged at her imagination.
"Stella, I'm talking to you."
"Sorry, I didn't hear."
"I was saying Charles is coming to see you this evening."
"Charles? How does he know I'm home?"
"My dear girl, you didn't want me to keep it a secret, did you? He rang to see how I was, and naturally I told him you'd left Matthew."
"You shouldn't have done that"
"Why not? He has to know some time. Really Stella, you can't go on living like a hermit."
"Possibly not But I don't think it's wise to start up with Charles again." -
"You'll change your mind when you see him."
Watching Charles as he entered the room later that evening, Stella could understand her mother's attitude. How perfectly he epitomized Prince Charming! Good-looking in a not too masculine and aggressive way; charming of manner and gentle of speaking, he was every young girl's dream of the ideal husband.
Remembering the last time they had met, and what had happened to her afterwards, her .greeting of him was somewhat stilted, but his pleasure at seeing her again took the edge off her unease, and soon she was talking to him without embarrassment. It was only when her, mother left them alone, ostensibly to watch a television programme, that her awkwardness returned.
"Don't look so worried," Charles said easily. "You needn't tell me why you left Matthew if you don't want to."
"There's nothing to tell." He looked so disbelieving that she was forced to continue. "We both realised our marriage was a mistake. Neither of us was happy and it — it seemed better to part."
"You made the right decision. I'm glad. Very glad."
She moistened her lips. He expected her to say more yet she could not say what he wanted to hear. "I haven't changed my mind about us. What I said to you the last time we met…that I don't love you… I still mean it. I like you Charles — more than anyone else I know — but I don't love you."
H he was disappointed he did not show it "How can you be so sure? You're still upset at leaving Armstrong. Even though you didn't love him, ending a marriage isn't easy. I suggest we don't talk about the future yet."
Restlessly she rose and paced the room. "You're wrong, Charles. I mean about my being too upset to know my own mind. I know it very well. And I won't change it either." Determinedly she faced him. "I don't love you and I don't want to marry you. It would be wrong of me to let you believe otherwise."
Carefully he crossed one leg over the other. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you were in love with Armstrong."
"Would it be so incredible if I were?"
Charles let out his breath in a sigh.
"Then why on earth did you leave him?"
"Because you can't build a marriage on a rotten foundation; and there are certain things neither of us can forget."
"So you're going to forget each other instead!"
"Yes."
"And if you can't? Will you go back to him?"
"He wouldn't have me."
"I see." Charles came over and put his hand beneath her chin, tilting it so that he could look into her face. "Are you sure you haven't built Armstrong up into some romantic, hard-done-by figure? I don't know what happened between you after I left that night, but whatever it was, don't let yourself be confused by it. Armstrong knew how you felt about him when he married you. If he got the raw end of the deal, he only has himself to blame. You pity him — nothing more than that"
"You're very sure of what you say."
"I have to be," he Said dryly. "It's my only hope." He released her and went to the door. "I'll leave you alone for a few months. If you want to see me before then, you know where to contact me."
"Thank you, Charles. You're very understanding."
"It may well be my epitaph," he said and walked out.
With a cry Stella sank down on the settee. Was Charles right in believing she was confusing pity with love? Could her feeling for Matthew merely be a desire to make amends for the shabby way she had treated him? If this were so, surely his going to Belle would have expurged her guilt? Yet despite knowing that he had turned to another woman, she still longed to comfort him, still wanted to remove the hurt from his eyes and the beaten curve from his shoulders. Yes, What she felt for Matthew was pity, but that did not mean it wasn't love! Indeed every woman who loved a man knew there was an element of compassion in all love worthy of the name; knew that beneath a man's strength was the deep need for the comfort of a woman's arms.
With all her heart she longed to give Matthew the tenderness she had never shown him before. If only she had allowed her first instinct about him to take its natural course! Had not been too bigoted to see beneath the manners to the man. But like a child she had looked in vain for a real-life version of the hero she had dreamed about, allowing a figment of her imagination to obscure the real worth of the man she had married.
Roberta Leigh - And Then Came Love Page 15