by Betty Neels
She saw his faintly mocking smile and said quickly to Eleanor: ‘What would you like to wear at the wedding, Eleanor?’
‘May I be a bridesmaid? And wear a blue dress…oh, please…’
‘I’d love that if your father allows it?’
‘Of course she may—make whatever arrangements you like, I’ll have to leave a lot to you, I’ve two or three important meetings coming up. Get what you need and send the bills to me.’ He sounded impatient, and Miss Timmis, who had been basking in the reflected rays of a romance right under her nose, looked taken aback. But of course, the dear professor was a very busy and important man and couldn’t be expected to waste his time bothering about the details of the wedding. She said in her precise voice, ‘I think a navy blue dress and jacket—so useful during the winter months, too.’ She caught Deborah’s surprised eye: ‘For myself you know.’
Deborah was about to enlarge on the interesting subject of weddings when she glanced at Gideon and saw the faint boredom on his face. She said briskly: ‘What a good idea; we must have a talk about that sometime!’ And then: ‘I interrupted your work, Gideon, I expect you want to be left in peace to get on with it when we’ve had lunch.’
She met the annoyed blue eyes squarely and after a moment was relieved to see him smile. ‘I see that you will make me an excellent wife, Deborah,’ he observed. ‘Shall we have lunch now? I’ll join you for tea and then we can drive back to Dorchester?’
The dining room was charming and the table beautifully appointed; Deborah ate her lunch, trying to stifle the excitement that in a few weeks’ time she would be sitting opposite Gideon at that very table—probably she would have arranged the flowers… She was a little distraite throughout the meal but Eleanor was too excited to notice, Miss Timmis put it down to being in love and the professor, having got things all his own way, didn’t notice either, not because he was excited but because he wasn’t all that interested. He had attained his objective; Deborah would make an excellent surrogate mother for Eleanor, run his house with no fuss, be capable of dealing with any small crisis which might arise during his absence from home, and be a pleasant companion without becoming tiresomely starry eyed. He made a mental note to get her a ring and studied her across the table. A nice little thing, no beauty, but a good hairdresser could do things to that sandy hair and she had lovely eyes. He made another mental note to arrange for her to have a generous allowance.
He went back to his study after lunch and became immersed in his work and didn’t think of her once.
Deborah being taken on a second and more detailed tour of the house by Eleanor, was unaware of his thoughts, of course, although she was sensible enough to know that to him this marriage was to be a strictly business-like arrangement. It was a little daunting, she mused, stopping to admire some ancestral portraits on the upstairs landing, but she was quite sure in her own mind that loving him as she did would be sufficient to overcome that in time. In the mean time, living with him in his home was the next best thing; she had every intention of being a good wife and she could see no reason why she wouldn’t be.
Tea was a pleasant meal, and Miss Timmis listening to the light hearted talk, beamed approval; young love, she thought, disregarding the fact that the professor was no longer a young man, and presently she stood with Eleanor waving to the happy pair as they drove off, Gideon in the Bentley, Deborah in her father’s car.
They stopped for coffee at Sturminster Newton and Deborah, naturally dying to talk about their wedding, didn’t mention it. A sensible decision which reaped its own reward, for presently Gideon asked: ‘You are happy about the arrangements? I’ll put a notice in the Telegraph and you had better invite whoever you want to come. We shall go straight over to Holland, so see that you wear something you can travel in. Eleanor seems bent on being a bridesmaid, but I suppose she can cover her dress with a coat.’
Deborah refrained from pointing out that it was already November and the child would wear a coat in any case. As for herself, if he thought she was going to turn up for her own wedding in sensible tweeds, then he was sadly mistaken. She murmured an agreement and sat looking at his hands on the table: large, well cared for and very capable. Her eyes slid up to his face, very good looking although the mouth was firm to the point of hardness, but she liked his faintly beaky nose and his grey hair. Very distinguished, they would make an odd pair she reflected.
Presently they got back into their respective cars, the Bentley held in check behind Deborah’s steady pace. She could imagine Gideon’s suppressed impatience but there was nothing she could do about it; it was a narrow, winding road and her father would never forgive her if she so much as scratched the paint.
She stopped at length outside her home and the Bentley purred to a halt behind her. Gideon got out and came to open her door. ‘You drive well,’ he observed. ‘I must get you a car of your own.’
She lifted her green eyes to his. ‘Really? How super—something small…I drive faster than this you know, but it’s Father’s car.’ And then: ‘You mustn’t feel that you have to give me things, you know.’
His blue eyes were very cool. ‘Allow me to be the best judge of what I give you, Deborah.’ He turned away as the door opened and her mother came out to meet them.
She had been feeling nervous about the evening, but her fears had been groundless. Gideon didn’t put a foot wrong; after he had gone home, with the three of them sitting over a pot of tea, Mr Farley pronounced himself quite content with his future son-in-law. ‘A sound man, and clever, not boastful thank heaven, but very sure of himself. He’ll make you a good husband, Debby.’
‘So good looking,’ murmured Mrs Farley. ‘I’m glad he’s bringing Eleanor over to see us, he’s obviously very fond of her. You’ve not had time to talk about the wedding, I suppose? I know we’ve talked it over this evening, but only in general terms. Two weeks’ time—that isn’t long—clothes, and we must have a reception even if it’s to be very quiet. I wonder if we’d better hire a room?’
‘Gideon suggested that we keep the guests to a minimum—we could manage twenty or a couple of dozen people here, couldn’t we? We have to leave very soon after the wedding, anyway, he has to go to den Haag and Eleanor and I will go with him.’
‘Eleanor?’ began her mother and then changed it to: ‘He’s a busy man, I’m sure, it’ll be nice for you to have company while he’s at these meetings.’
Two weeks was very little time in which to organise even the quietest of weddings, Deborah spent most of the next day making neat lists of things to buy and people to invite. Then in the evening, unexpectedly, Gideon arrived.
‘We might go out to dinner,’ he suggested, ‘there’s still a good deal to talk over and while you are getting ready I’ll see if your parents are free to come over and spend the day on Sunday. I’d like them to meet Eleanor. Will you stay for a day or two? I have to go up to London for a few days and it would give you the chance to get used to the place and arrange about Eleanor’s clothes. Miss Timmis has a friend who makes Eleanor’s things, perhaps if you bought whatever you want for her, she could make it up.’
He glanced rather impatiently at her sensible grey flannel skirt and matching sweater. ‘I daresay she would be only to glad to make something for you, or perhaps you’d prefer to buy… There are some decent shops in Salisbury, or so Miss Timmis tells me.’
She gave him a smouldering look. ‘Perhaps you have some suggestions about the colour I should wear?’ Her voice was sweet with a nasty edge to it.
‘Oh, lord—have I upset you? But since you ask me—how about a rich clotted cream—a fine wool dress and a matching coat. If you have your hair decently dressed and some sort of a hat you’ll be quite attractive.’
She said in a voice which trembled: ‘You seem to know a great deal about it, but I think I should warn you that I’m not a doormat by nature and you may find it harder than you think to change the ways of a rat trapped gorgon. I like to make up my own mind, especially about c
lothes.’
They were standing by his car, for she had been in the garden when he had arrived, now he took her by the shoulders and made her face him.
‘Oh Debby, I’m sorry. And your mouth isn’t a rat trap; it’s a kind, generous mouth. As for being a gorgon, you certainly don’t turn me to stone; you give me a nice, warm friendly feeling when I’m with you. I think that with a little give and take, we shall get along very well together.’
Deborah registered a silent promise to wear cream-wool. ‘I shall do my very best,’ she assured him and was surprised when he bent and kissed her quite hard. ‘Friendship sealed with a kiss,’ he informed her gravely and put his hand into his pocket. ‘I hope this fits—it was my mother’s. It’s old fashioned because it was my grandmother’s too. Try it on.’
He took the ring out of its box and slipped it on her finger, and she stared at it with delight; it fitted perfectly—that must be a good omen. It was a sapphire surrounded by diamonds and set in gold; she touched it gently. ‘It’s beautiful Gideon. Thank you very much.’ She would have liked to have cried, but she made her voice friendly and nothing else.
They went indoors and the ring was duly admired before she went to change; she stood for quite some moments in front of her small wardrobe, wondering which dress Gideon would like. In the end she settled for a russet wool, by no means the height of fashion but the colour suited her. Not that it mattered, she told herself, applying make-up with care, he had a low opinion of her dress sense. She would have liked to have experimented with her hair, but there wasn’t enough time. ‘If only I had some sort of a hat,’ she told her reflection and giggled.
They went to the Old Market House in Cerne Abbas, and ate the delicious food at leisure. Deborah had never been sure if she liked champagne, but now she decided she did; perhaps because she was given more than one glass and the champagne was a good one. She remarked that it was a very pleasant drink and Gideon smiled slowly. ‘In the right company there’s nothing like it.’ He waited while she was served pears cooked in red wine and smothered in cream. ‘Now, as to the details of the wedding—shall we get them settled?’
It had been a very pleasant evening, she thought sleepily, getting ready for bed; she had, she considered, matched his casual friendliness very well; discussing the wedding as coolly as though it were not her own, but some acquaintance’s. They had agreed on almost everything, and she had accepted the life he had outlined for her without demur. A pleasant enough prospect, most of it at Tollard Royal—the quiet country life she enjoyed, with occasional visits to Shaftesbury or Salisbury, his friends to entertain, and the house to run with Mrs Buckle to guide her. He would be home for the most part of the time, he had told her, but occasionally he had to stay in London and whenever possible there was no reason why she and Eleanor shouldn’t be with him. And when he had to go to Brussels or den Haag or any other European capital not too far away, there was no reason why she, and perhaps Eleanor too, shouldn’t accompany him. He had been very matter-of-fact about it and even for a few moments she had wondered if she would be able to go through with it, but of course she could; she loved him and that was surely the best reason in the world for marrying him. And having settled this she closed her eyes and slept.
She had told Gideon that two weeks would be ample time in which to get everything arranged for the wedding, but she hadn’t reckoned on the time taken up by his surprisingly frequent visits, the dinner party he gave at his home, with the Burns and Mrs Beaufort, and they in their turn giving a dinner party in return. Besides, the boys were home for half term, hindering her at every turn, talking excitedly about the wedding. And then there was Eleanor’s dress to see—the pair of them spent the day in Salisbury searching for exactly the right material—sapphire blue velvet and a matching tweed coat to go on top of it. That done and safely delivered to the dressmaker, she at last got down to the task of finding something to wear for herself. She found it in Sherborne, in a small, expensive boutique where normally she wouldn’t have dreamed of going. But just for once, and quite forgetting that when she was married she would be able to buy all the clothes she wanted, within reason, she felt justified in being extravagant. It was not only the exact shade of cream she had in mind, it also fitted perfectly; a simply cut dress in fine wool with a top coat of thicker tweed. The price paled her cheeks, but didn’t prevent her from buying a little blue velvet hat the colour of Eleanor’s dress and then adding shoes, gloves and a handbag. She was just about flat broke by the time she got home, but she had what she wanted.
They were to be married at half-past eleven, have a buffet lunch at her home, and leave directly afterwards for Holland. Since Gideon had the car with him they would cross by Hovercraft and drive up through Belgium along the coast road, to reach den Haag in good time for dinner.
Mrs Farley, happily immersed in plans for the reception, deplored the fact that it had to be such a quiet affair, although, as she assured Deborah, that didn’t mean to say that it wasn’t going to be an extremely elegant one. As for Deborah, all she could think of was that in a few days’ time, she would be Gideon’s wife.
She was up early on the morning of the wedding, contrary to custom pottering round the house, helping her mother get breakfast, arranging flowers, polishing glasses, and finally going back to her room to get herself dressed. She was sitting before her dressing table mirror, carefully doing her hair in the style the hairdresser had suggested, when she heard Eleanor’s excited voice. A moment later there was a tap on the door and the child came in.
‘Deborah… Oh, don’t you look nice, and your hair’s different, is my dress all right? Daddy liked it. He’s gone to the church, but he left your flowers. They are downstairs…’
Deborah gave her a hug. ‘You look smashing, and see, I found a hat which matches your dress. Just sit still on the bed while I put it on.’ And when she had done so: ‘How do I look?’
‘You’re beautiful,’ declared Eleanor and she meant it. Deborah thanked her soberly; it would be marvellous if Gideon thought the same, and still more marvellous if he were to say so.
There was, of course, no opportunity for him to say anything at all when they met, but the long look he gave her as she joined him at the end of the aisle gave her a pleasant glow; at least he approved of her appearance, and since she had taken a considerable time to achieve it, she was satisfied. The glow lasted all through the short service and turned her into what Mrs Buckle, there with Buckle, described as a radiant bride. Mrs Buckle was a sentimental lady and saw the occasion through rose coloured spectacles, but the same Deborah bore all the outward signs, at least, of a very happy young woman. The dear professor looked happy too, she declared, though happy wasn’t perhaps the right word; his handsome features bore an expression of satisfaction—he had got what he wanted; a mother for his small daughter, and a wife who gave every indication that she would fall in with his lifestyle and refrain from indulging in romantic ideas. What was more, he liked her; she was a good companion and she had a mind of her own. No looks, although he had to admit that there was something about her which caught the eye…
Deborah, sitting beside him in the Bentley being whisked off to the Hovercraft, admitted to herself that he had behaved beautifully, he had the easy good manners which made him liked by everyone and he had called her his dear wife when he had made a brief speech after they had cut the cake. She believed him, he might not love her, but she was sure in her bones that he thought of her as a companion and a friend.
She peeped sideways at his profile, impassive and silent and had her thoughts interrupted by Eleanor’s excited voice from the back seat, still intent on discussing every aspect of the wedding. A topic which kept them fully occupied for the greater part of the journey.
Neither Deborah nor Eleanor had been on a Hovercraft before. Gideon, who had, answered their endless questions with good humour and patience and once they had landed, kept up a casual running commentary of the country they were passing through. Once over the bo
rder, he turned off the motorway and stopped at an hotel in Rosendaal where they had tea and fragile little biscuits. Deborah, who had hardly eaten any breakfast and almost nothing at the reception, would gladly have gobbled up a plateful. As it was, she nibbled at them daintily and hoped that no one could hear her insides rumbling.
The professor, watching her, smiled faintly. ‘I think that when we get to the hotel, Eleanor had better go straight to bed and have her supper there, otherwise she will not enjoy your morning together.’
She was an obedient child and agreed placidly. ‘Will you be working all the time?’ she asked her father.
‘A good deal of it, I’m afraid. But I’m sure the pair of you will find more than enough to do. The conference I have to attend is being held near the hotel though I doubt if I shall get back for lunch, but I think we might all go to the puppet theatre one evening, and to Scheveningen for Sunday lunch. There’s a splendid zoo and an ice skating rink if you skate, Deborah?’ And when she nodded: ‘Good, I can see that you will both be amply amused. And, Eleanor, sometimes I shall take Deborah out in the evening and you will have your supper in bed and one of the chamber maids will look after you. Okay?’
Eleanor nodded. ‘Will you go dancing?’
‘I daresay we shall. We shall certainly tell you all about it afterwards.’
He signalled the waiter. ‘Shall we go? It’s not much further now.’
Deborah found den Haag to be a very elegant place, she admired the broad, tree lined avenues, and the solid houses lining them. Then as they neared the heart of the city, the brightly lit shop windows and old fashioned trams and the crowded streets. Gideon drove without hesitation, finally turning into Lange Voorhout, and parking before the Hotel des Indes. Its foyer was comfortable and a little old fashioned, but the service was instant and unobtrusive. She knew very little about hotels, but she guessed that this one was in the luxury class and when they reached their rooms she found this to be right, each elegantly furnished and with a splendidly appointed bathroom too, with communicating doors so that Eleanor, who was in the middle, could go into either room if she wanted to.