‘Something’s upset you ... what’s the matter, Eleanor?’
‘I don’t like being made a fool of, Edward, any more than you do.’
‘Oh?’ His voice was suddenly guarded. ‘And how have you been made to look a fool?’
‘Surely we need not pretend any longer!’ she retorted icily. ‘Think a bit harder and you’ll come up with a good reason.’
‘I was never keen on riddles, even as a child.’
‘I can’t imagine you as a child, Edward, though I suppose you must have been one!’ She gave an angry sigh. ‘Oh, come on, stop being obtuse. I thought we agreed that no one was to be told that our engagement wasn’t for real? That’s what you said.’
‘And that’s what I meant.’
‘Really?’ Her tone was scathing. ‘Do you mean that Felicity allows you to spend the night with her knowing you’re in love with me?’ She shrugged disdainfully. ‘It’s not beyond belief, I suppose. Were you able to persuade her that pride is an unnecessary accoutrement to one’s pleasures? I presume she didn’t need much persuading.’ Stop, oh, stop, a voice inside her was crying, but she couldn’t, humiliation and hurt wouldn’t let her.
Edward was standing quite still, a disconcerting look on his face.
‘May I ask how you know?’ His voice was dangerously soft.
Her resolve wavered and then quickened. ‘I ... I saw you go into her room.’
‘I see. How providential for you, Eleanor. Is it too much to hope that your presence was accidental, or were you practising the part of the outraged wife and doing a spot of spying?’
‘I couldn’t sleep and needed a drink,’ said Eleanor between her teeth, white where before she had been fiery red.
Damn his eyes, she thought furiously, and added contemptuously: ‘I’d have made my presence known had I thought you’d be pleased to see me, but I considered I’d be rather de trop!’
‘Most de trop, my dear.’
She began to walk on, thrusting her good hand deep into her pocket. The conversation wasn’t going quite the way she had expected. There was no embarrassment in his eyes, no apology on his lips, but why should there be? she thought bitterly. He had never set himself up as a puritan ... but oh, she had trusted him not to wound her feelings, her pride, especially with Felicity!
Once again Edward stopped her, this time with both hands on her shoulders, swinging her round and making her look at him. His expression was sardonic.
‘I can hardly deny it, can I, and wouldn’t anyway, you’ve already prejudged me. So, I spent the night in Felicity’s bed, either with her knowledge that we are not truly engaged—in which case I broke my word to you, or without that knowledge, which doesn’t do much for my character. But then you never had much of an opinion of that, did you, Eleanor? Remember my devil’s portrait?’ He thrust her hand to his hair, holding it close to the thick waves. ‘Can you feel the horns, Eleanor?’ he asked mockingly, adding: ‘I wonder which explanation it is that’s made you so angry?’
‘Does it matter?’ she flashed, wrenching her hand free.
‘Oh, yes, I think it does. On the one hand you could be disappointed that I’ve at last lived up to your original opinion—gratitude may have blinded you into seeing a halo instead of horns, just lately!’ He paused and added insultingly: ‘Or it could be that you wished it was your bed I was climbing into...’
Eleanor’s hand came round and struck him across the face. The noise sounded like an explosion in her ears. They stood like statues, normal country noises going on around them, Eleanor’s face stricken, Edward’s shuttered, devoid of expression. And then the tableau was broken as Edward took her hand, still wavering between them, tucking it beneath his arm and forcing her to walk on.
‘We will, I think, continue slowly, the way lovers do,’ he said, in a conversational tone, head bent close to hers. ‘Van' and Hugh have just turned the corner and are coming this way. I don’t believe they saw our Victorian melodrama, and I quite realise that you would much rather be flouncing off in high dudgeon.’ He pointed into the hedgerow. ‘My goodness, isn’t that Slapatim Vulgaris? Oh, no, it’s just a dead piece of wood. Ah, good, you’ve stopped shaking and I’m hopeful that you won’t faint at my feet...?’ He raised his brows in question.
If it was possible to admire and dislike someone at the same moment then this was what Eleanor was doing. She swallowed hard and nodded, lifting her eyes to his face. The angry weal had faded slightly and no one looking at Edward’s debonair figure and whimsical expression would imagine that only two minutes ago he had been white-hot with anger.
‘Good. I do believe that if I took my arm away you would be able to stand on your own two feet, but I won’t do that, of course, as lovers prefer bodily contact. I think we can turn round now and be sociable ... hullo, you two!’ he said, raising his voice.
‘There you are, Edward,’ called Vanessa as they came nearer. ‘Felicity’s been looking everywhere for you. She thought you were going riding with them all and seemed quite put out when you disappeared without a trace,’ and she winked at Eleanor.
‘I changed my mind,’ Edward said carelessly, ignoring Eleanor’s start of surprise.
‘If I were Eleanor I’d be very watchful of our dear hostess ... she’s a bad loser,’ teased Vanessa, her eyes dancing.
‘Ah, but Eleanor trusts me implicitly, don’t you, darling?’ appealed Edward, blue eyes smiling down into hazel ones, planting a kiss on the end of her nose. ‘And if I were Hugh, I’d give you a good hiding every day.’
‘I do,’ said Hugh comfortably.
‘Good man,’ and Edward ignored the tip of the tongue that his sister daintily showed him. ‘By the way, you don’t mind if we buzz off this afternoon after lunch, do you? Eleanor still isn’t one hundred per cent fit, and we’ve had enough of people for one weekend.’
Hugh smiled. ‘We understand your feelings and will be generous and allow you to escape first.’
Vanessa groaned. ‘Oh, lord! I suppose it would look bad if we all scarpered together.’
‘I hope you’ll soon feel better, Eleanor,’ said Hugh, and looked at the girls. ‘You know, you were very lucky, both of you.’
‘And still are, darling,’ soothed Vanessa, hugging his arm, ‘because we have you two. Come on, I’m famished!’ Edward allowed them to go on slightly ahead. ‘Everything is panning out nicely,’ he remarked with approval. ‘Pack your case...’
‘Edward, I...’
‘... and we’ll leave after lunch. Yes, after lunch, I think. I seem to remember roast beef and Yorkshire pudding being quoted as our fare, and it would be a pity to miss that.’
‘Edward!’ Eleanor stopped, forcing him to do the same. She shook her head despairingly. ‘Edward, you’re hopeless!’
‘Yes, I rather think I am.’
She gave a choking laugh. ‘Slapatim Vulgaris! Honestly!’
‘A pity I was mistaken. I fancied finding a rare plant... might have made a name for myself.’
‘Edward, I’m sorry I slapped your face.’
‘Are you, Eleanor? I think I deserved it.’
‘And, Edward, about...’
‘We’ll not discuss anything more, Eleanor, not here.’ He held the door open for her to pass through. ‘It’s not the right place.’
‘But you’re away next week, and I’m leaving on Friday for home,’ she told him, suddenly aware of the fact herself, desolation sweeping over her.
‘So you are,’ he said lightly. ‘Oh, well, a time will come,’ and she nodded, unable to speak, and went into the house.
Saying goodbye to her host and hostess was difficult, more difficult than Eleanor had supposed. They had both been so kind to her, and spoke as though she were coming back, and she hoped that they would forgive her for deceiving them. Vanessa and Hugh drove her to the station.
‘Bad luck Edward had to be called away,’ said Hugh, and Eleanor replied brightly:
‘I expect I’ll have to become used to it.’
‘There’s some
thing on the back seat that should interest you,’ Vanessa said smugly. ‘Something from Edward.’
Eleanor turned a startled face and looked back at the seat. Sitting squarely at Vanessa’s side was a large basket with a lid. She felt a curious restriction to her throat.
‘Henry?’ she managed.
Vanessa grinned. ‘Plus a few. Edward thought you’d miss them—you’re making him quite human in his old age, Nell!’
‘Stop showing disrespect to your brother,’ demanded Hugh, eyeing his lady-love through the rear view mirror.
‘Yes, sir,’ teased Vanessa, planting a light kiss on the back of his neck.
‘And stop distracting the driver,’ he ordered, in mock anguish.
They helped her on to the train and Eleanor’s feelings were mixed as they disappeared from her view. Would she ever see them again? she wondered sadly, but closed her mind to the future.
Her father was at York to meet her and she made a fool of herself by promptly bursting into tears, hiding her face in the rough tweed of his jacket.
‘Now I know it’s my Nell,’ he joked, handing her his handkerchief. ‘For a minute you had me fooled there, this smart young lady in the new suit—it is new, isn’t it? But the floodgates have reassured me.’
Laughing through her tears, Eleanor said chokily: ‘What a fool I am! Hullo, Daddy, it’s lovely to see you, lovely to be home.’
‘So I see. Good gracious! What’s this? A cat basket? You have come back with more than you went, haven’t you?’
Eleanor smiled happily and helped with the luggage. How good it was to see his kindly, loving face ... just the same, even down to the old grey pullover he habitually wore.
Hilary Ferrers led the way to the rather battered estate car and they loaded it up.
‘In you get, Nell. They’re all waiting for you at home.’
‘How is everyone?’ she asked, settling herself into the front seat, realising she was sitting on the dog’s rug which was covered with hairs. ‘You didn’t bring Lass,’ she added, removing the rug to the back.
Hilary peered left and right and swung out of the station yard. ‘No. You know how excited she gets and she takes up so much room. You left the Mansels well?’
‘Yes, they sent their regards.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t think Edward will make the wedding.’
‘Oh?’ Hilary gave her a shrewd look. ‘Pity. Never mind, you’ll be able to show him off some other time. When are you going back?’
‘I ... don’t know, haven’t decided yet. I might stay on for a week or two.’
‘Good. Do your mother a favour and put some roses in your cheeks while you’re here—you’re looking as if you could do with a spot of healthy country air.’
‘I’m all right, truly,’ said Eleanor quickly, and launched into an account of some of the happenings over the past few weeks.
Home fitted her like a comfortable glove and after a few days it was as if she had never been away—at least, when she was with the family. When she was alone too many memories crowded in on her, too many questions remained unanswerable. Another difficulty was the inevitable village interest in her ring and her ‘young man’ which proved a great strain on her resources.
Constance Ferrers began to despair of ever being ready in time as, one by one, unavoidable crises occurred.
‘I honestly would not have believed that the child could have grown an inch in three weeks,’ she pronounced, gazing in dismay at her youngest daughter.
‘She couldn’t have been wearing the right shoes when we measured her,’ said Kate crossly, giving the bridesmaid’s dress a downward tug.
‘I did then,’ exclaimed Dodie indignantly. ‘I’ve grown, I tell you.’
‘I can let it down, Mother,’ soothed Eleanor, ‘there’s enough material.’
‘Bless you, Nell,’ replied Constance, and thankfully left her to it.
Dodie struggled out of the dress, demanding: ‘Why isn’t Edward coming?’
‘He’s away on business,’ said Eleanor calmly, snipping the stitches.
‘Funny you disliking him so much, when you first met,’' commented Kate, anxiously looking in the mirror at what looked suspiciously like a spot on her chin.
Hilarious, thought Eleanor bleakly, giving an obligatory smile. Kate muttered something despairingly about looking a fright tomorrow, and rushed out of the room. When the door closed behind her, Dodie said darkly:
‘I wish Edward was coming—I was looking forward to seeing him. I like him much better than Guy. Guy’s a stuffed shirt. He and Kate make a good pair ... neither of them have a sense of humour.’
‘You shouldn’t say things like that,’ reprimanded Eleanor automatically.
‘It’s true,’ Dodie insisted, stroking Henry who had jumped up on to her lap. ‘Edward’s fun. You don’t think he’s laughing, because his face is serious, but then you see his lips twitch and his eyes give him away. Do you know what I mean?’
Eleanor paused, scissors held poised. ‘Yes, I know what you mean.’
‘You’ll jolly well have to invite me down to your place when you’re married, Nell.’ Her face brightened. ‘I say, if I get in at St Thomas’s I could stay with you both—that would be convenient, wouldn’t it?’
Eleanor stifled a sigh. Oh, what a tangled web we weave, she thought worriedly. ‘You’ve decided against music, then?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ stated Dodie. ‘I had a long chat with Edward when I knew I’d passed the exam and...’
‘With Edward?’ Eleanor looked at her in surprise. ‘When?’
‘Oh, ages ago,’ Dodie said airily. ‘You don’t mind my asking his advice, do you?’
‘No, of course not, only he didn’t say anything to me about it.’ Eleanor pulled a face. ‘Poor Father’s phone bill!’ Dodie picked up a kitten that had been trying to climb her trousers. ‘Anyway, I’ve decided to go for medicine,’ she declared, ‘so you see how useful it will be, you living in London.’
As Eleanor threaded the cotton through the eye of the needle she told herself that there was plenty of time to worry about Dodie and medical school when the time came. After all, she might very well be living in London by then ... on her own. Surely London could hold both Edward and herself without too much difficulty?
Kate’s wedding day proved to be a sunny one, April showers belonging only to the song. As Eleanor listened to her father taking the ceremony it seemed a million years ago that she had fancied herself in love with Guy. Looking at him now, standing next to Kate, she was deeply thankful that she could pray for their happiness sincerely and with no reservations.
Coming out of the vestry Dodie whispered gleefully: ‘All the village seems to have turned up—and someone else too!’ and Eleanor followed her sister’s gaze and felt the blood rush to her cheeks and just as quickly disappear.
Edward! Her heart turned over at the sight of him. What on earth was Edward doing here? Walking down the aisle she kept her eyes rigidly in front, but as they drew level she was compelled to shoot him a quick look. She could sense heads turning with curiosity, could imagine the news that Eleanor’s fiancé was here, after all, passing swiftly along the pews.
While photographs were being taken her eyes were constantly drawn to where he was standing, a little away from the crowd, looking—oh, well, she thought helplessly, looking just Edward! Why had he come? As she saw him being introduced to more and more people the whole situation began to take on a nightmare quality. How dared he make the whole thing more complicated, she thought angrily, anger being the only emotion she could allow herself. She found the opportunity of dodging round the back of the onlookers and seeing her approach, Edward came forward and kissed her lightly.
‘Hullo, Eleanor darling,’ he said. ‘I made it after all,’ and seeing the startled look in her eyes, murmured: ‘We have an audience, my love.’
Making herself smile, Eleanor said under her breath: ‘What are you doing here, Edward?’ How dreadfully tired he looks, she thought worrie
dly.
‘I’ve come to see a wedding,’ he replied whimsically.
‘You’ve ruined everything,’ she retorted. ‘You obviously know nothing whatsoever about village life or else you’d have realised that they’ve sized you up and married us off the first minute they set eyes on you!’
‘Perhaps we’d better not disappoint the village,’ he murmured, ‘and don’t forget to smile, there’s a good girl.’
‘They may be swayed by your broad shoulders and Savile Row suit, but I’m not!’ Eleanor said with some asperity.
‘I know,’ he replied dolefully.
Eleanor bit her lip. ‘Edward Mansel, I just do not understand you,’ and then she had to return to the wedding group, taking with her a mental picture of him staring at her, blue eyes suddenly wary.
It was useless trying to talk to him during the reception, even if she could have found him in the same place for more than two minutes. Miss Hawkins, the village librarian, was sipping her sweet sherry, face rather pink, next to Eleanor, who was listening with only half her attention to what the elderly lady was saying, until she said:
‘Such a lovely young man, my dear Eleanor, so well-mannered. I thought so when I first met him and today he even remembered my name!’ and Miss Hawkins beamed benevolently.
Eleanor’s attention swung completely to her companion. ‘What do you mean, Miss Hawkins?’ she asked, puzzled. ‘Have you met Edward before?’
‘Why, yes,’ Miss Hawkins assured her, taking another sip from her glass. ‘I was visiting the dear vicar at the time...’
‘But when?’ pursued Eleanor, her head beginning to whirl.
‘I remember the library van had just called,’ began Miss Hawkins thoughtfully, and then gave a hiccup which she hastily turned into a cough.
Oh, goodness, thought Eleanor in dismay, she’s getting tipsy on the sherry! and led Miss Hawkins hurriedly to the food. She then searched for her mother and said urgently: ‘Mother, I’ve been having a word with Miss Hawkins and...’
‘Is she all right, Eleanor?’ asked Constance worriedly. ‘You know how quickly sherry goes to her head.’
‘Yes, she’s eating now,’ answered Eleanor impatiently. ‘Mother, what’s this about Edward coming over to see you? When was it?’
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