"They are gorgeous, aren't they?" said a voice and Tanya turned to see a girl of about her own age, with short chestnut hair and a pleasant if unremarkable face. "You must be Tanya," the girl went on. "I'm Betty Tufton, Adrian's sister."
"Adrian has spoken of you," Tanya said. "I am to look after your children, I think."
"That's just a ploy to stop the gossips putting two and two together and making five," Betty said quickly. "Though if it had been left to me, I'd have told them the truth."
"The truth would have harmed Adrian."
"I don't agree. But unfortunately no one takes any notice of me."
She did not seem distressed by this and Tanya had the impression it would take a great deal to disturb her.
"I suppose one can't blame Adrian for wanting to make absolutely sure nothing spoils his chances at the election," his sister went on, "but it's a bit much to expect you to look after my brats."
"I will certainly take care of your children," Tanya said formally. "It is what Adrian wishes."
"Did you always do as he wished?" Betty Tufton asked and then gave an embarrassed laugh. "Don't answer that."
"I would answer you if I could, but your brother and I were not together long enough for me to do so."
"Of course. I was forgetting he had to leave you when you were practically on your honeymoon. It must have been ghastly for you."
"The last eight years were not pleasant ones either," Tanya answered. "I think it is better if we do not talk about them."
"It's not good to bottle things up."
"Sometimes it is safer."
"Less embarrassing you mean?" Betty Tufton gave her a long, appraising look. "When you smiled at me a moment ago I was able to see the girl Adrian married. For the first year after he got back he didn't stop telling us how beautiful you were."
"That is in the past too. Today I am ugly." Tanya glanced at her shapeless dress and work-roughened hands. "It is hard for me to realize I am no longer his wife. I knew nothing about the divorce."
Betty was astounded. "You must have had quite a shock when Adrian told you."
"I did. But that is in the past also and now I am your nanny."
Betty eyed her again. "If I were in your shoes I think I'd want to give Adrian a good sharp kick!"
"If you had been in my shoes for the last eight years, you would have learned the importance of hiding your true feelings."
In silence, they continued to walk across the lawn, automatically heading in the direction of the house.
"You're still beautiful, you know," the English girl said abruptly. "All you need is to gain some weight and wear decent clothes."
"Such things are unimportant to me."
"Well, they shouldn't be. You're free now and there's no reason for you to go around looking as if you've escaped from a concentration camp."
"But I have."
"All the more reason to forget it. You're about my size and I'm sure I can find you something decent to wear."
"I cannot accept charity."
"There's no such thing as charity between sisters-in-law! And until Adrian legalizes his divorce, that's what you still are. So stop arguing!"
Half smiling, Tanya shrugged acquiescence. "Do you not have a home of your own?" she asked as she followed Betty up to the first floor and along the corridor to what was obviously a self-contained wing.
"No, I live here. When I married, Adrian was still at the Foreign Office and mother was lonely by herself. Dick and I moved in as a temporary measure and have stayed on ever since."
"Would you not prefer to live alone with your husband?"
"I've stopped thinking about it. Anyway, it's very convenient not to have to do any cooking."
"Your mother cooks then?"
Betty chuckled. "She can't even boil an egg. No, we have a cook."
"I see."
"I'm sure you don't." Betty chuckled again. "But come on, let's start the transformation."
True to her word, that was exactly what Betty did.
Using a strong lemon rinse, she brought back golden glints to the drab hair and snipped some of the front strands so that they fell in soft waves over Tanya's brow, leaving the rest of her hair to be wound into a thick plait and twisted around her head.
"I hope you won't refuse to wear makeup?" Betty questioned, and without waiting for an answer proceeded to dab different colors and textures on to Tanya's face.
Luckily she was as skillful as she was determined and when Tanya studied her reflection she had difficulty in recognizing herself. Though nothing could hide her thinness, the dress Betty had given her did much to minimize it. The pin-tucked bodice emphasized the delicate curve of her breasts yet at the same time hid the hollows at the base of her neck; the softly floating skirt was kind to the boniness of her thighs and drew attention only to the incredibly tiny waist. But it was her face which had altered the most: at last she looked almost as she once had; as she knew she could look again, were she given the chance. The merest touch of rouge emphasized her high cheekbones and some lotion had been dabbed on to hide the shadows beneath her eyes. The eyes themselves were untouched except for a coat of mascara on the dark fringe of lashes, and they shone like the large violets that grew on her native hills.
"You'll look even better when you've gained ten pounds," Betty said. "But you look a thousand times better than you did last night. Adrian won't know you."
Tanya's pleasure evaporated. In the company of this friendly girl she had forgotten her true position, but now it came back to haunt her. Her tears could not be controlled and with a gasp she ran to the haven of her own room and flung herself on the bed. How could she live in this family and pretend she was a stranger to its master? How could she forget those few glorious weeks of love that they had shared? But to forget was a necessity, for unless she did, she would wreck Adrian's life.
"Give me the strength to stay," she whispered, hands clasped together in pleading. "And then please God, give me the strength to go."
CHAPTER THREE
As the days passed, the effects of good food and rest showed markedly on Tanya. She no longer had need of rouge and her body began to regain its rounded contours.
After the first few difficult days she started to build a place for herself in the household. She and Betty's children took to each other on sight and she had a special place in her affections for five-year-old Emma, whose blond curls and solemn little face reminded her of herself at the same age. Three-year-old Tim was a different proposition; high-spirited, very intelligent and using both characteristics in order to get his own way, he was a handful to manage. But Tanya welcomed anything that stopped her from thinking about her own problems and, with Tim to watch over, was given little chance of moping.
The family treated her carefully and though she had anticipated having her meals in the nursery with the children, Adrian refused to allow this.
"But I would prefer to eat with the children," she had protested.
"And 1 would prefer you to eat with us."
In the end they compromised, Tanya agreeing to take her meals with the family when Adrian was present and, on the occasions when he wasn't, eating in the nursery. It was these mealtimes she enjoyed the most, for in the main dining room she was constantly aware of Mrs. Chesterton's frigid politeness and Adrian's determined effort to pretend they were friends, and to forget they had once been considerably closer.
Betty and Dick Tufton behaved the most naturally toward her and would have been pleased to take her with them when they went to the local cinema or to visit friends. But Tanya refused to allow this, reminding them that since she was supposed to be their nanny, it would look strange if she went out with them socially.
Reluctantly conceding she was right, they left her alone, and gradually everyone else did the same. Busy with his election campaign, Adrian no longer insisted she dine with the family when he was present, and they met only at Sunday luncheon, which the children took with their parents.
The weeks mer
ged into each other and one midsummer evening after she had put the children to bed, she went into the garden for a stroll. The day had been humid and she breathed the cool, scented air with relief. Sitting on the edge of the lily pond, which was her favorite place, she leaned over and dabbled her fingers in the water. Her face stared at her from the unrippled surface, the sinking sun picking out the highlights in her corn-gold hair and making it look as if the water were flecked with gold dust.
"I didn't recognize you as I was coming across the lawn," Adrian said behind her, and with a startled movement she turned to see him coming toward her.
"You look different," he went on, his eyes traveling down her body in its tight-fitting cream linen dress, to her bare brown legs and slim feet thrust into red sandals.
"Have I changed so much then?" she asked stiltedly.
"Yes. Both from the girl I met in Rovnia and from the woman who first arrived here."
"You have changed too."
He did not answer and she focused on the pool again. She saw his reflection in the limpid water: tall and dark, his shirt a splash of white. She shivered suddenly and stepped away from him.
"I must go to the children. In this hot weather they get restless."
"There's no need to take your duties so seriously. You're only a nanny as far as the outside world is concerned. Among the family you're still…"
He paused, discomfited, but she had no wish to help him and watched as he grew more embarrassed.
"You know what I'm trying to say," he continued.
She nodded. "I am not interested in the way your family regards me."
"Only the way I regard you?"
"Yes. But I am not angry with you for it. I understand why my coming here has made things difficult for you, and if I had known the position I would have stayed in Rovnia. Unfortunately I cannot return there."
"You mean you would if you could? I thought you hated the regime?"
"I do. But at least in Rovnia I would be with my own people. Here, I am a stranger."
"You'll soon make friends. You are young and beautiful and you will marry again."
She jerked back sharply. "What I do with my future is no concern of yours."
"It is!"
"Only because you have a guilty conscience."
"Maybe." He gnawed at his lower lip. "I met Mrs. Parkins—who runs the post office—she asked me this morning about Betty's new nanny. She wondered if you were a friend of my wife's!"
"What do the people in the village think happened to your wife? "Tanya asked.
"They know she divorced me."
"Then you have nothing to worry about."
"You make it sound so simple. You don't give me credit for having a conscience."
"What happened to your conscience when I was in Rovnia?"
"Damn it, I tried to get you out but it was impossible. You still can't see what I went through," he added. "I know it's hard for you, but if you could see my point of view…" His brows drew together. "We've not only matured in the past eight years, we've grown apart; seen different things, lived different lives. When your Embassy told me you'd divorced me I determined to forget you. 1 told myself it was useless to think about the past when there was so much to be done in the future. I made myself put love behind me and—"
"How can you say that when you're engaged to another woman?" she cried. "Or are you telling me you don't love her either?"
"What I feel for Diana is different from what I felt for you," he said sharply. "She understands politics and she will make me an admirable wife."
"But do you love her? Do you want her with all your heart?"
Adrian did not reply for so long that Tanya had given up expecting an answer when he suddenly spoke. "Diana and I have a great deal in common. She isn't a demanding woman either, and she has many interests of her own."
"If that's the sort of marriage that will make you happy," Tanya said bitterly, "then you were a fool ever to have married me! I am glad you stopped loving me, Adrian. I see now we would never have been happy together!"
"If you had come to England with me, everything would have been different. But one can't live on memories and when you try to pick up the threads of your life again you automatically—without meaning to—weave a different pattern. I know it's hard on you, Tanya, but we must make the best of things."
"Such sentiments are too British for me! I can't make the best of something I hate. I don't want to go on staying here, Adrian. I want to leave your house—make another life for myself where I won't have to see you."
"As soon as it's safe for you to go, I'll—"
"Safe for me!" she cut in. "Don't you mean when it's safe for you? That's all you're thinking of, Adrian. Yourself!"
Anger brought a rush of color to his face, taking away his usual pallor and making him look younger. "I happen to be thinking of all the people who are trying to get me elected to Parliament. If it weren't for my commitment to them, I'd never have asked you to stay here. However if you find it intolerable, I'll take you to London and put you in a hotel. As I've already told you, you're still my responsibility wherever you are."
With a murmur she flung up her hands. "You make it impossible for me to go! If I leave here and you lose the election, I will always blame myself."
"You weren't to know the position when you came here," he said heavily. "But if Roger Poulton found out who you were, he'd use it to harm me."
"But I hate the Rovnian dictatorship," she cried. "Why couldn't you say that?''
"And what about my engagement to Diana? What do you think the newspapers would make of that? A man with a wife and a fiancée! That would really go down well with the electorate."
"Perhaps if you saw Mr. Poulton and explained the position…"
"He'd do anything to smear my name."
''Is he so wicked?"
"It has nothing to do with being wicked. But we're fighting an election and he'll use every weapon he can lay his hands on to beat me."
"Would you do the same?"
"No," Adrian said tersely. "But then I'm not as committed to politics as Poulton is."
"Then why do you care so much about winning?"
"Because I have given my word." Her eyes filled with tears and she remembered another time when he had given his word: when they had stood side by side at the British Embassy and exchanged their marriage vows.
"I wish things could have been different," he said huskily. "I've never wanted to hurt you; please believe that."
Not trusting herself to answer, she ran back to the house.
From then on she was careful to keep out of his way. All there was to say had been said between them; henceforth she must forget the man she had married and look upon Adrian as a stranger.
Everyone in the village now accepted her as nanny to Mrs. Tufton's children and even Mrs. Parkins—without whose gossiping tongue Tanya would not have been forced to remain here—accepted her at face value, and said that if Tanya wished to find a better paid job, she would be able to put one her way. But Tanya knew that when she left Adrian's home she would not want to keep in touch with anyone who had known her during her stay here.
She paused in her thoughts and, at the same time, paused in her walking. She had left the children with Betty and was enjoying the unexpected relaxation of being alone. For nearly a week the sky had been overcast but now the sun had broken through and she had taken advantage of the change in the weather to get herself some exercise. Instead of going for a brisk walk she had automatically made for the woods, as if the shadowy gloom of the evergreens formed a suitable backdrop for her thoughts.
But from now on she would try to think more positively. Her English had improved and with it had come a greater sense of confidence. The shabby little Rovnian refugee had disappeared and the lovely, slender girl with corn-gold hair who had replaced her required no pity or help from anyone.
She turned to retrace her steps and saw a man coming toward her. His red hair flamed in the sun a
nd his eyes were vivid blue in a thin, lined face.
"Lovely day, isn't it?" he said pleasantly.
At his inevitable reference to the weather, a dimple showed in her cheek. She returned his greeting and was about to move past him when he stopped her.
"You're a stranger here, aren't you?" he said. "Are you on holiday?"
"No. I live at Park Gates. I look after Mrs. Tufton's children."
"Ah yes, I've heard about you. I'm Roger Poulton, by the way."
Her eyes widened but she said composedly: "I'm Tanya Kovacs." She went to walk on but he fell into step beside her. "I take it you know I'm Adrian Chesterton's opponent in the election?"
"I have heard of nothing else since I arrived."
"I'll bet!" His glance was mischievous. "Who do you think will win?"
She gave the question serious thought. "It will be— what you call—a close battle."
"A close fight," he corrected. "Though I'm sure our politics are pretty tame compared with Rovnian ones!"
"In my country we do not have elections any more," she said bitterly, "but one day we will be free."
"I'm sure you will." His tone was understanding and she warmed toward him, though the feeling evaporated as he said: "How did you manage to escape? Did Chesterton pull any strings to get you out?"
"I managed," she said evasively.
"What made you decide to come to England?"
"Because the English don't ask questions!"
"I deserved that!" he smiled. "But I wasn't being curious. I'm genuinely interested. Please accept my apologies."
"I will," she said solemnly. "But now, if you will excuse me, I must return home."
Thoughtfully Tanya went back to the house. In future she would not go walking in the woods; it would at least ensure she did not meet Roger Poulton again.
But in this Tanya reckoned without fate, for a few days later, as she and the children were looking into the window of the village sweet shop, discussing the rival merits of fruit gums and toffee, she heard his voice behind her.
"I should go for toffees," he advised. "They last longer!"
Tanya laughed. "You hear that, children? You had better do as Mr. Poulton says."
Rachel Lindsay - Unwanted Wife Page 3