by Julia Anders
Resolutely she pushed that thought from her mind.
Jason joined her after half an hour, a worried frown on his face. "Lynne, I'm terribly sorry about this-"
Her heart lurched. What dreadful thing had happened?
"Some urgent business has come up and I have to fly back to London for a day or so. I hate to leave you here alone."
She laughed shakily. "Is that all? Goodness, your face looked like doom."
"Do you think you can manage by yourself?"
"Manage?" She was indignant. "I've been taking care of myself for a long time now. Besides, what more could I ask? I have a place to stay, I speak the language, and I could never run out of things to do in Paris."
His relief at the way she was taking it was almost comical. What had he expected her to do? Throw a tantrum? Even if she had been his wife in fact as well as by law, she'd never have done that. What sort of women was he used to?
They went out for an especially elegant dinner that night. She wore her blue dress. As they said good night at her door he added, "I'm catching an early flight, so I won't take time for breakfast here." He reached in his pocket and drew out some franc notes. "Here's some pocket money. You probably won't want to carry a lot so I've left more at the desk. Just ask for it as you need it."
"Thank you," she said. "Have a good trip."
There seemed to be real regret in his eyes as he said, "I'm so sorry I have to go."
"Well, business is business," she said and went into her room. And that's what I am, too, she thought. A business arrangement. Was it really his work that called him home, or was it Justine, calling him to heel? Was he hurrying off in the morning to placate her? Or perhaps he just felt the need to see her again, to have some real pleasure after the tiring business of showing his pseudo-wife the tourist spots of Paris. Odd how disquieting that thought was. After all, Lynne had no emotional claims on him, nor would she want to have. He was just a business arrangement to her, too, she thought defiantly.
When she woke the next morning, she immediately thought of visiting the Louvre. They had been saving that to do in case it rained because it was so close they could just nip over and spend the day indoors.
The sun was bright today, however. Strange that she should have thought of the Louvre first thing, just as if it had been a rainy day.
It didn't take Lynne long to realize that one could spend a week in this building and never see half of what was in it.
She supposed a visit here wouldn't be complete without viewing the Mona Lisa. When at last she found the right gallery, she was disappointed in the painting. It was so heavily protected, doubtless because of its having been stolen some years ago, that it was hard to see it properly. Anyway, she had always thought the girl had an insipid look, no matter how much she admired da Vinci's brushwork.
She found other, less famous paintings which she enjoyed more and spent the hours until one o'clock wandering through one gallery after another, until she felt so satiated that she decided she had had enough art for one day.
After a small lunch at a sidewalk cafe near the hotel, she decided it would be a good time to visit the Tuileries Gardens. It had been an unusually warm autumn. The air felt almost summery with only a hint of crispness in the early mornings and late afternoons.
Lynne strolled into the park and admired the lovely trees. Though the flower beds were too manicured and precise to suit her taste, she had to admit they were effective. She walked on until she came to a large round cement pond where some small children were sailing toy boats, pushing them off from the edge with sticks and rushing around to the other side to catch them as they landed.
Smiling, she sat down in a conveniently placed chair to watch. One dark-haired youngster reminded her of Tonio.
Suddenly she felt a surge of longing to see him. It was strange how in the few short days they had been together he had become so dear to her. She had missed him terribly when Jason took him to Spain.
She wished it were all over, the confrontation with the D'Allasios, the legal technicalities, and that they were back at Longridge. She would enjoy being a sort of glorified governess for him—teaching him English, going for rambles through the woods. She wondered if he could ride a pony. There were no stables at Longridge, but perhaps there were ponies for hire somewhere nearby. What fun it would be to teach him to ride, like a proper English boy.
Then a thought smote her and turned the day gray. If she had missed him that much after only a week, what would it be like to lose him after a matter of months? For lose him she would. There would be no friendly visits to Longridge to keep in touch with Tonio when Justine was mistress there!
She was so deep in her unhappy reverie that at first she didn't realize anyone was speaking to her. Then she looked up at the dumpy woman in a park attendant's uniform, who was demanding to know if she'd paid the fee for using the chair. How idiotic, Lynne thought, opening her purse and handing her the smallest note she had. As the woman handed her a ticket and her change and moved off, Lynne looked down at the coins in her hand. "Arretez-vous!" she called sharply. "You haven't given me the proper change."
Grumbling, the woman returned and grudgingly put another coin in Lynne's outstretched hand.
If that wasn't the limit, Lynne thought crossly. Charge you for sitting down and then try to cheat you in the bargain.
She watched as the attendant approached a couple sitting nearby. The man kept shaking his head and the dumpy little attendant kept gesticulating. Finally, he raised his voice as if speaking loudly and clearly would help her to understand, and Lynne heard him saying in an American accent, "I'm sorry. I don't speak French. No parle. I don't know what you want."
Lynne called out to him. "It seems you have to pay a fee for sitting in the chairs."
"Oh, right. Thank you." He paid and after the old woman had left, he and his wife looked at one another and broke into helpless laughter, as if having to pay for the privilege of sitting in a park chair were the funniest thing they'd ever encountered.
Somehow it quite restored Lynne's good humor.
She had been putting off thinking how she was going to spend the evening, for though it was true that she could well take care of herself, the idea of an evening alone in Paris was less enticing than finding ways to spend the daytime hours had been. Now it occurred to her that she had been an idiot not to think of it earlier.
She hurried back to the hotel and asked the concierge if it were possible to get an opera ticket for that evening. He made a phone call and came back smiling. "Oui, Madame. C'est possible."
She spent a wonderful evening, after all. Jason needn't have worried. She was perfectly resourceful and she certainly hadn't missed him.
When she woke the next morning it really was raining, which she took as an omen that she'd better go back to the Louvre. She ate her breakfast looking out at the leaden skies, thinking that the sudden change in the weather was quite depressing.
She had just finished eating when the phone jangled. It was Jason. "I've finished up here and I'm catching the noon plane. I just wanted you to know I'd be back in time for dinner."
Her heart seemed to be pounding at the surprise of hearing his voice. "Thank you for calling," she said, adding idiotically, "It's raining here."
"Oh, too bad. Maybe you can go to the Louvre."
"I plan to. I'll see you tonight then."
She stared out over the city. Didn't it seem to be lightening up just a bit in the east?
She heard his key in the lock and then he fairly burst through the door. "Well, I'm back." He held out his strong square hands and gripped hers.
She smiled. "So I see."
He looked genuinely glad to see her. Surely he couldn't have just come from Justine with such a smile on his lips for Lynne. For a crazy second she had even thought he was about to kiss her hello, but then he dropped her hands and said exuberantly, "What's on the program for tomorrow?"
She wanted to say, "A picnic for two in the Bois d
e Boulogne," but she suddenly felt guilty about enjoying herself. Wasn't she beginning to enjoy her-self too much? Hadn't she for brief stretches of time almost forgotten why she was here? Instead, she said, "I was thinking, Jason, that perhaps it's time to think about starting for Italy. I saw a little boy in the Tuileries Gardens yesterday who reminded me of Tonio, and I wondered if we should really be dawdling here in Paris instead of going to him."
The light went out of Jason's deep gray eyes. "Perhaps you're right."
To fill the uneasy silence that followed she said, "Did you get your business taken care of satisfactorily?"
He looked blank, as if he'd never heard of business.
"The business that called you back to London," she prompted.
"Oh, that. Yes, that's taken care of." But he seemed preoccupied. A moment ago she had been sure it was business and not Justine which had taken him away from Paris. Now she wasn't so sure.
At dinner that night he asked, "How did you manage to entertain yourself while I was gone? At the desk they gave me back the envelope of cash I'd left for you. They said you'd never asked for any of it at all."
"I didn't need it."
"I never imagined a woman left alone in Paris with a supply of funds couldn't find something to do with it."
"Perhaps I'm not your ordinary, everyday-type woman," she said lightly.
"I'm beginning to realize that," he said slowly.
She could not meet his eyes for long and dropped hers to the wine goblet in her hand. To break the tension she said, "I did do one extravagant thing. I went to the opera last night."
He snapped his fingers. "What a fool I am. I should have remembered that you liked opera and thought of it myself. Now about tomorrow—there's no putting it off any longer. We are going shopping and that's final."
She said in a mock-martyred tone, "Well, sometimes we just have to bow to the inevitable."
It was a day of mixed delight and exasperation for Lynne. Who wouldn't enjoy trying on such beautiful clothes? But Jason seemed to feel it necessary to buy everything that was becoming to her and such extravagance made her uncomfortable.
He bought her two evening dresses, a smart black frock, a peasant-style dress in a whisper-soft blue challis print—for no better reason than he said it showed off her pretty neck—a deep turquoise daytime dress, a rust wool suit, and a selection of trouser outfits which he said would be comfortable for driving, and useful later in the country. He topped it off with the purchase of a coat and an evening wrap.
"Jason, how will I ever get all these things into my luggage?" she protested at last.
"We could buy you a new suitcase."
"I was only joking."
"But that reminds me, you will need some handbags. And shoes."
"What, no tiara?"
He laughed. "If you're a good girl and try on your shoes without complaining, you may have a tiara."
"Oh, super," she giggled. "But it must be sapphires and diamonds."
He sighed. "There you go being economical again. I was planning on emeralds."
It was their last night in Paris and it seemed to Lynne that the City of Lights was putting on a special show for them. The sky turned pink and gold behind the Eiffel Tower as they watched from their window.
Then the pink shaded into the softest mauve and finally a deep blue. The air had a luminescent look, and the floodlit buildings looked more romantic than ever before.
They went to Maxime's and Lynne wore her new ivory silk evening dress. Heads turned as they walked in. Jason could always make heads turn, she thought. He walked with such a confident air, his dark hair and penetrating eyes always captured people's attention. His manners were superb as he solicitously ordered for her.
Oh, Jason, she thought, you are so experienced-such a man of the world. I hope you're not going to spoil me for ordinary men.
She had to hold fast to the notion that somewhere in the shadowy future, some nameless, faceless man awaited her. She knew that someday she wanted children—wanted to share her life with someone. Someday she would marry in earnest, though at this moment it was impossible to imagine falling in love. It had never seemed so before, but now it occurred to her, though she could not have said why, that being in love was a condition fraught with danger. She hoped that in the distant time when she did find a man of her own, she would not forever be comparing him with Jason—with Jason's aristocratic looks and strength, with the way Jason could make heads turn and people jump to his bidding.
She shivered.
This strangest of honeymoons was almost over, and Lynne couldn't be sure whether she was glad or sorry.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Johnson had delivered Jason's car and it surprised Lynne. She had been expecting something flashy and low-slung, a rich man's toy. Instead, it was a conservative moss green vehicle, although sleek and elegant, to be sure. Not until they had left the suburbs behind and were out on the open highway did Jason open it up. Lynne realized how much power there was beneath the bonnet.
As the miles fell away, she occasionally glanced at Jason's profile as he maneuvered the car with relaxed concentration.
He seemed to have his mind wholly on the road, but he must have been aware of her scrutiny because he said suddenly, "What are you thinking about so seriously?"
"Nothing serious at all," she said in momentary confusion. "I was just thinking that this car is like Clark Kent."
His brows lifted in astonishment. "like Clark Kent!"
"Yes. You know. It looks rather ordinary like mild-mannered Clark Kent, until all at once it turns into Superman and takes off like a bird."
He laughed. "I suppose I'll never be able to think of it as anything but Clark Kent again. I wonder how Johnson will take it when I say, 'Johnson, please bring Clark to the front door in five minutes.'"
A little after noon he asked, "Getting hungry?"
"Moderately." Then, struck by a sudden idea, she asked, "Jason, do you suppose we could have a picnic?" Immediately she was sorry she had mentioned it. Picnics were probably not Jason's style. He liked the excellent service and elegant food of good restaurants.
Surprisingly he pulled off the highway onto a side road, saying, "Your wish is my command."
Yes, she thought, during this brief period, with his gentlemanly manners, her wish did seem to be his command. But she sensed that it would never be wise to seriously cross swords with him. like his car, his appearance was deceptive. Under the polished exterior lay vast power waiting to be unleashed.
They stopped in the first village they came to and, entering a small shop, chose sharp yellow cheese, pate, grapes, and downy peaches. "And some of the brie," he added as an afterthought. Next door was a boulangerie where they bought crusty bread, and then Jason looked up and down the street. "We'll have to find a wine merchant. I have the loaf of bread and thou; I certainly insist on a jug of wine to complete the set."
Ever practical, Lynne said, "What about a knife to cut the cheese and some paper napkins and cups?"
He snapped his fingers. "We should have one of those fitted-out picnic hampers."
"And I thought you were always prepared for everything," Lynne teased. "I'm disappointed."
Their purchases loaded, they drove slowly along the narrow road beyond the village, looking for a likely place to stop.
It was such a beautiful Saturday that there were many other picnickers beside the road. Lynne was amused at the elaborate gear some of them had outfitted themselves with. They passed several families sitting in camp chairs around card tables; one man unloaded a folding lounge chair from the boot of his car while his wife held a portable radio.
"Some people know how to put on a picnic!" she said, still teasing. "Tables, chairs, luncheon music. And we have to make do with a packet of paper napkins."
"The honeymoon's not even over and already she's turning into a nag," he grinned.
Suddenly he swerved off onto an even narrower lane. "Goodness, Jason, this doesn't look as if
it leads anywhere. Are you sure we won't get lost?"
"Not absolutely," he said cheerfully. "I just thought there might be a quieter spot along here where you won't see any of those well-equipped picnickers and keep making invidious comparisons."
They rounded a turn and came upon an opening in the trees where a small stream tumbled down a grassy bank. Leave it to Jason to have found the perfect spot. If there were any justice, this lane would have ended up at a rubbish heap. Then she forgot that fleeting notion in her delight at the exquisite scene.
There was a car robe in the boot which Jason spread under a tree. The whisper of the leaves and the gentle gurgling of the stream below was sweeter and more soothing than any music coming from a radio would have been.
Everything tasted delicious, from the sharp golden cheese to the mellow, sun-warmed peaches. "I feel replete at last," Jason said, finishing the last of the soft, creamy brie. "In fact, practically stuporous."
"Why don't you rest a bit?" Lynne suggested. "I'd love to explore the stream."
"That sounds good," he agreed. "Don't go too far."
When she returned, he was asleep with his head pillowed on his folded up jacket. Very gently, so as not to disturb him, she sat down on the edge of the car robe to wait.
He had loosened the top of his shirt and she could see the dark brown hair on his well-muscled chest. He looked so much younger as he slept, all the firmness of purpose, the strength of will, erased from his face. She had never seen him when his hair was not perfectly groomed, but now it was touseled and one lock fell across his forehead. She felt an absurd desire to push it back.
Presently he stirred slightly and before he could open his eyes and see that she was watching him, she quickly busied herself with cleaning up the debris from their picnic lunch.