Rachel Lindsay - Love and Lucy Granger

by Rachel Lindsay

  ' No. It's nothing, I tell you. I'll—I'll come down in a few minutes.'

  ' Our guests are already arriving. Come down now.'

  His look and tone brooked no argument and she remembered the fear she had felt when she had first seen him under the harsh lights in the board-room of his London office. It was a fear that returned in, full and unexpected force now and she paled and reached out to rest her head against the lintel.

  'You are ill!' he exclaimed, and coming into her bedroom, pushed the door closed behind him. ' Darling, what's wrong? Shall I call a doctor? Do you want to go to bed?'

  'And spoil the party?' She gave a shaky laugh, but he did not echo it.

  ' Damn the party! You're more important to me than a million guests.' He put his arms round her and rested his cheek on her hair. ' I love you so much I can't bear to think of you being ill.'

  Held close against him, feeling his heart pounding heavily against her breast, her confidence returned and pushed away, the waves of panic.

  'I'm not ill,' she whispered. 'Just petrified with fright at meeting so many of your friends.'

  He drew back and looked at her in astonishment. Then, satisfied she had meant what she said, his expression softened and once more he drew her close.

  ' How foolish you are,' he murmured softly. ' My friends will adore you.'

  ' But I've nothing in common with them. They're all so rich and important and '

  ' Even if you were completely speechless they would still adore you,' he reiterated, laughter trembling in his voice. ' Don't you know by now, Lucy, that a girl as beautiful as you can be the dumbest thing in the world and yet men will still admire her?'

  ' It's not only the men I'm worried about,' she confessed. ' They've got wives too.'

  ' Forget about the women. No matter what you do they're bound to be envious of you. After all,' he said with a return to his usual arrogance, ' you're marrying me.'

  She giggled and pushing him away, picked up her handbag. ' I'm ready.'

  Hand in hand they went down the stairs and mingled with the guests thronging the hall and the great ballroom.

  For the first hour Paul remained constantly at her side and with his hand warm in hers, she was able to forget that she was the centre of all eyes. As her confidence increased so did her conversation and she began to enjoy meeting the distinguished people who had come from many parts of the country to attend the party. The orchestra was in full swing and people were already dancing when a group of late arrivals entered the marble hall. There were three couples, but it was the youngest woman whom Lucy noticed. Sandra Pearce! She trembled with anger. What effrontery had brought the woman here tonight? At Lucy's side, Cindy gave an exclamation of disgust.

  ' I had a feeling she'd turn up.'

  ' I wish you'd warned me,' Lucy said sharply. ' I like to know when to expect my rivals.'

  ' She's no rival. She just doesn't know when she's lost a battle!'

  ' What are you two girls talking about so intently?' Paul spoke behind them and Lucy swung round to look at him, not knowing what to say.

  ' Sandra's here,' Cindy intervened.

  Paul looked at Lucy and his face took on the quizzical expression she knew so well. ' Is that why you're looking like a ruffled kitten? Really, darling, you shouldn't be so naive.'

  ' Is it naive to think your ex-girl-friend has shown bad taste in coming here?'

  Without answering Paul pulled her on to the dance floor, and not until they were out of Cindy's earshot did he speak.

  ' It was silly of Sandra to come here, but it isn't all that important. Don't Jet her arrival upset you.' ' ' I can't help it.' Lucy tilted her head to look at him more clearly. ' I'd have thought you would have been embarrassed to have her here?'

  ' It isn't usually the man who's embarrassed in a case !ike this!'

  ' What a horribly masculine thing to say,' she retorted.

  ' Sorry, darling, but it's true.' He twirled her round in an intricate step, grinning so happily that she knew he did not mean one word he had said.

  ' Anyway,' he went on, ' I'd have thought you'd have been delighted that Sandra's here. After all, you're the one in possession of the citadel.'

  ' I don't regard you as a citadel to be fought for. And if I thought you meant what you said, I'd give you back your ring.'

  He danced her out on to the deserted terrace and did not stop until they were sheltered from prying eyes by a bower of azaleas.

  ' I honestly believe you would,' he said. ' Don't you know when I'm joking?'

  ' Usually,' she admitted. ' But I can't think straight where Sandra Pearce is concerned.'

  ' It's ridiculous of you to be jealous. My affair with Sandra is finished and it doesn't affect my feeling for you. You are my fiancee and will shortly be my wife. Surely that should give you enough confidence not to be jealous of any other woman?'

  ' How little you understand people's feelings. Do you really think that because you've asked me to be your wife j[ shouldn't be jealous of you?'

  ' Yes, I do.'

  She stared at him, but even though their eyes met and held, there was no softening of his expression. Behind her she heard the music start again, and she moved away from him.

  ' I've promised the next dance to Murray. I must find him."

  Before Paul could stop her she sped lightly across the terrace, her chiffon skirts billowing around her. She paused by one of the french windows leading into the ballroom, searching for Murray among the dancers. Her figure was reflected in the glass and she knew that never had she looked lovelier. Chiffon was the most flattering of all materials, she thought dispassionately, and admired the way the gown caressed her curves, its Grecian simplicity making her appear taller and more ethereal.

  ' I don't blame you admiring yourself.' Murray was beside her before she realized it. ' You look like a fairy on a Christmas tree.'

  ' With everyone watching me, I feel like it.'

  ' Don't worry. You're a fabulous success. I've been keeping my ears open and all I've heard are compliments about you.'

  ' I'm sure you'd tell me if you'd heard to the contrary!'

  He gave her a mocking smile and drew her on to the floor. ' How right you are, dear Lucy. I believe it's important for people like you and me to know the impression we're making.'

  ' What do you mean by that?'

  ' Only that we're both poor and because of it we're both suspect. People believe I love Cindy for her money and that you love Paul for the same reason. So that puts us in the same boat.'

  Although it was unpleasant to realize she was being judged in the same way as Murray, she could not deny the truth of what he had said. From the comer of her eye she saw Paul on the edge of the floor and wished with all her heart that he did not have any money at all. How happy she would be if he was just an ordinary man in an ordinary job. She sighed, knowing that Paul would never be ordinary; no matter what position he began in, he would always end at the top. She looked over to him again, but a couple had obscured her view and when she next saw him he was dancing with a dark- haired woman in a shimmering emerald dress. Sandra Pearce.

  Lucy missed her step and Murray held her more tightly. ' It's showing,' he said.

  'What is?'

  ' Your jealousy.'

  'Why should I be jealous of Paul?'

  Murray did not answer and Lucy's cheeks burned.

  Determinedly she kept her eyes fixed ahead, but all the while she was intensely aware of Sandra leaning against Paul far more closely than the dance warranted. If only she was not so attractive! But there was- no doubting the magnetism of her personality and the strange sex appeal that seemed to surround her like an aura. No wonder Paul had been her lover. The thought burned her like a flame and to overcome the pain of it she forced herself to talk to Murray, laughing up at him with a gaiety and abandon she had never displayed towards him before.

  The tempo of the music changed from foxtrot to the slow, languorous beat of a tango, and Murray drew her
closer. ' Shall we show them the proper way to dance this one, Lucy?'

  Once again Lucy caught sight of a sinuous emerald body close against a dark one, and jealousy made her reckless. 'Why not?' she said, and placed her cheek against Murray's.

  If Lucy had known what she was letting herself in for she might not have agreed so readily to dance the tango with Murray, but by the time she did realize it it was too late, for everyone else had ranged themselves along the wall to watch what they recognized to be a brilliant display of dancing.

  With Murray guiding her Lucy could do no wrong and they twirled and swirled to the music, shoulder and thigh touching, limbs moving in perfect unison. With a final wail the music came to an end and there was a burst of applause.

  Murray drew back, his face flushed, his breath uneven. ' I never knew you could dance like that. We must do it more often.'

  Scarlet with confusion, Lucy left the floor, smiling as people clustered round to compliment her on the display. It was a few moments before she was free to escape and she went out on to the terrace glad of the cool air to cool her burning skin. There were steps behind her and she did not need to turn to know they were Paul's.

  ' I didn't realize you were such an excellent dancer, Lucy. You and Murray could earn your living as an adagio act.'

  She kept her head averted. ' I'm glad you liked it.'

  ' Liked is hardly the word I would have used. Disgust would be more appropriate!'

  She whirled round. ' What was so disgusting about it?'

  ' Only that your performance with Murray would have been more fitting in a bedroom than a ballroom!'

  Hardly aware of what she was doing, Lucy's hand flew up and smacked hard against Paul's cheek.

  ' How dare you! Of all the beastly——- ' She choked on the rest of the words and turned to push past him.

  ' No, you don't.' Paul pulled her back into the arbour. His eyes were glittering and his face was so pale that the red marks of her fingers stood out sharply on his cheek. ' I've never allowed any woman to hit me before.'

  ' If you don't get out of my way I'll hit you again.' She pummelled at him with her fists. ' Let me go! I don't want to see you any more. I hate you!'

  Unexpectedly the anger left his face, and no longer .

  bolstered by temper, his features softened. The eyes no longer glittered with fury and a mouth that a second ago had been a narrow line curved into unexpected softness.

  ' I'm sorry, Lucy. I'd no right to say what I did. Will you forgive me?'

  She said nothing and he bent to look at her more closely. ' Lift your eyes, Lucy, I can't see them.'

  The curtain of her lashes raised and he was able to gaze into violet depths.

  ' Forgive me,' he said again. ' But when I saw you in Murray's arms I was so jealous I couldn't think straight. I can't bear another man to touch you. You're mine.'

  ' Yes,' she said, her voice barely audible, ' I'm yours. Your fiancee and shortly to be your wife. That should give you enough confidence not to be jealous of me.'

  A puzzled frown drew his eyebrows together, and then he realized the words were familiar because he himself had said them to her barely half an hour ago. His expression changed again and became one of incredulity.

  ' You did it purposely I' he exclaimed. ' You wanted to show me how ridiculous my remark was.'

  Lucy wondered what Paul would say if he knew there had been no such thought in her mind arid that her behaviour with Murray had been the outcome of the jealousy Paul had scorned her for having. Truth fought with feminine guile and for the first time in her life guile won. After all, to keep a man like Paul happy for the rest of his life there would be many times when femininity would be her only weapon.

  ' How clever of you to guess,' she said sweetly.

  With a groan Paul lowered his head until it Was resting on the curve of her breast.

  ' Oh, Lucy, what a fool I am!'

  His lips were warm against her skin and she stroked his head and wished they could remain here for ever.

  ' Not a fool, darling, just a man in love; as I'm a woman in love.'

  ' And we're both jealous of each other.'

  ' Yes,' she said. ' We should remember that.' He straightened and one fair eyebrow lifted in his usual sardonic expression. ' I don't believe I'll ever forget it, Lucy. You teach a very hard lesson.'

  CHAPTER X

  For most of April Paul was busy with a new business merger, and though he did not manage to return to Charters every evening, Lucy was content in the knowledge that he was at least still in England.

  As the date of their wedding drew nearer she became increasingly occupied with fittings for her trousseau and on the few occasions when Paul did spend a mid-week evening in the country, she would travel to London with him in the morning. It was usually lunch time before she was free to leave her couturier, and she then either idled away the afternoon hours by visiting an art gallery or looking at the shops in Regent Street or else returned to Charters by train.

  The first time she had done this Paul had made no attempt to hide his annoyance, telling her with unusual sharpness that a car and chauffeur were always at her disposal.

  ' I'm not made of glass,' she had protested. ' I'm perfectly able to travel by train.'

  ' As my wife you must——- '

  ' I'm not your wife yet.'

  'When you are, you'll have to stop this nonsense about trains. My chauffeur does nothing all day except hang around waiting to drive me home.'

  ' What a snob you are,' she had laughed. ' Doesn't it enter your head that I like seeing people and listening to them talk instead of being closeted like an old lady in the back of a car?'

  Paul looked nonplussed. ' If you really like it,' he said slowly, 'then of course you can do it. I merely thought you didn't want to use Edwards because of your ridiculous pride.'

  ' I haven't any pride where you're concerned. I love you too much.'

  Their discussion ended as their discussions always did, in him drawing her into his arms and kissing her.

  'You're such an enigma to me,' he murmured. ' I'll have to spend the rest of my life getting to know you.'

  They were words she herself echoed silently, but she knew better than to say them aloud.

  The weeks slipped by and the countryside blossomed with flowers and foliage. Set in a secluded valley, spring came early to Charters, and Lucy, was able to see the old house in its full loveliness. With every passing day she found herself growing more attached to it and longed for the time when the rooms would echo to children's laughter. Her children and Paul's.

  The only thing to cloud her happiness was Cindy, for Paul had still not given his consent to his sister's marriage, and Lucy was afraid that unless he did so fairly soon, the girl would try and take matters into her own hands. Yet Murray, surprisingly, seemed more contented than she had ever known him, and Lucy wondered whether he had finally accepted the fact that it would be wiser to wait for Paul's consent than to rush into an elopement. Indeed his behaviour since the Easter Ball had been exemplary and once again she round herself relaxing under the spell of his personality. Whatever the flaws in his character he made Cindy happy and it was impossible to dislike him for long. Only Paul remained immune to his charms, and Lucy was conscious of the look of distaste on his face when he heard her laughing at one of Murray's quips, or came across the three of them giggling helplessly at one of his outrageous word combinations when they played Scrabble. Intuitively she felt he resented Murray's familiarity with her: the habit he had of ruffling her hair or throwing a careless arm round her shoulder. Yet from Murray such gestures meant nothing, though it was difficult to explain them to a man as fastidious and withdrawn as Paul.

  It was the last Friday in April when Paul told her that an American art dealer and his wife were coming to spend the weekend at Charters.

  ' The Van Dormans are old friends of mine,' he explained, ' and they're passing through London on their way from Paris. I'm sure you'll like the
m both,' he added as he saw Lucy's doubtful expression. ' They're an amusing couple.'

  ' I hope they won't talk art all the time.'

  ' That will be up to you,' he said, bending to kiss her goodbye. ' As the hostess it'll be your job to guide the conversation!'

  She made a face at him, and laughing, he strode down the steps to his car.

  Lucy waited until it was no longer in sight before she returned to the breakfast room to tell Aunt Beatrice they were having guests.

  To her surprise the old lady had not yet come down and she was crossing the hall to go and see her when Aunt Beatrice's maid ran down the stairs.

  ' Miss Harlow won't be getting up today,' she explained. ' She has a gastric attack.'

  ' Shall I call the doctor?' Lucy asked.

  ' I've already done so, miss. He usually prescribes a white medicine and tells her not to eat so much!'

  Content to leave Aunt Beatrice's welfare in the capable hands of her maid, Lucy went in search of the housekeeper. A few months earlier the thought of acting as hostess would have petrified her, but now she took it in her stride, conferring with the butler which dinner service to use, discussing the menu with the chef and deciding the allocation of the bedrooms with the housekeeper. Charters was a world on its own: the staff its citizens and she the consort, soon to be queen.

  Promptly at six-thirty Mr and Mrs Van Dorman arrived with Paul, and Lucy liked the American couple on sight. Dinner passed off without a hitch and she knew from the expression in Paul's eyes and the momentary touch of his hand on hers as they went into the library for coffee that he was proud of the way she had acquitted herself in front of his friends.

  Murray had not been present at dinner and Lucy was not surprised when Cindy disappeared as soon as she had finished her coffee. Paul was in too good a humour to remark on his sister's absence, while Lucy for her part was glad Murray was not there, for as an artist himself she was sure that had he been present he would have monopolized the conversation. Indeed, now she thought of it she was surprised he had refused her invitation to dinner and she made a mental note to ask him why when she saw him again. It was not like Murray to prefer a cup of tea and a sandwich in his little cottage when he could dine sumptuously at Charters. A burst of laughter brought her back to the present and she settled back in her chair to enjoy the conversation.