His Convenient Marriage (10 page)

Mr. Atterbourne looked surprised, then indulgent. 'Per¬haps Miss Lloyd would prefer coloured stones,' he sug¬gested. 'I have some good sapphires, and an especially beautiful ruby.'

Chessie pulled herself together. How could he have done that? she asked herself in total bewilderment. After all he's putting me through, how on earth can he make me laugh like that? And could find no answer.

'It's just so—difficult,' she said, and meant it. She sent Miles an appealing glance. 'Do we have to decide today— darling?'

'Yes, my love,' Miles returned softly, a warning note in his voice that only she could hear. 'We do.'

'Or we could make up a ring, perhaps, if Miss Lloyd has a preferred stone...' Mr. Atterbourne was trying hard.

'Yes,' she said slowly. 'Actually I do have a favourite.' She paused. 'There was a ring I saw in the window just now. A square aquamarine, with diamonds on each side of it. Could I try that?'

Miles' eyebrows lifted. 'Aquamarines?' he queried. 'Aren't they semi-precious stones?'

'At one time they were considered so,' said Mr. Atterbourne, rising to his feet. 'But they are becoming in¬creasingly rare, and consequently more valuable. The ring in question is part of our antique collection, and very lovely.' He beamed at them both, and hurried off.

The ring slid over her knuckle, and settled on her slender finger as if it had been born there. The aquamarine looked cool and pure in contrast to the fire of the diamonds that flanked it. Two pairs of them, set one above the other, she saw, as if they were guarding the central stone.

'The colour is deeper than many of its modern counter¬parts,' Mr. Atterbourne told them almost reverently. 'It's a very good piece.'

Miles studied it, frowning slightly. 'Surely it's more a dress ring?'

'It's an unconventional choice for an engagement, per¬haps,' the jeweller admitted cautiously.

'You wanted me to decide,' Chessie said steadily. Her gaze locked with Miles in challenge. 'If I have to wear it, this is my choice, and no other.'

He looked back at her, his mouth twisting in wry ac¬knowledgement. He said, 'Then we'll take it.'

She watched it placed in a satin-lined box, and then in one of Atterbournes' distinctive suede bags. Mr. Atterbourne clearly expected it to be presented to her later in some ro¬mantic ceremonial, she thought ruefully, accompanied by flowers, candles and champagne.

Whereas the only likely accompaniment was going to be one hell of a scene from Jenny, who couldn't be kept in the dark any longer.

She stifled a sigh, sneaking a sideways glance at her companion. His face was harsh, and set, his mouth a hard line. She found herself wondering if he was realising he'd just made a very expensive mistake, and was searching for a way to call the whole thing off.

Please, she wanted to say. We don't have to do this. I can tell people that I played a joke on you, and it backfired. And that I'm getting another job because I'm embarrassed.

But inside the car, he took the ring from its package, and turned to her. 'Give me your hand.'

Now—now was the time to speak. To offer him a way out.

Yet no words would come. Instead, she found she was obeying reluctantly, trying not to shiver as his fingers touched hers. As the gold band slid over her skin. She looked down at the clear blue sheen of the stone. Touched it, as if it were some kind of talisman that would keep her safe. Four weeks, she thought. Only four weeks.

'So,' he said. 'Why this ring?'

She shrugged. 'It caught my eye. And aquamarines are my birthstone, so I've always loved them. I had a pendant once...' She stopped abruptly, aware that she was giving too much away. 'Also, it's very beautiful,' she went on swiftly. 'And it's been worn by other women, so it has a history.' She didn't look at him. 'Besides, antique jewellery holds its value. You shouldn't lose out too badly when you come to re-sell it.'

'You're all consideration.' His tone was sardonic. 'But actually I'd prefer you to keep it.'

'But I couldn't possibly,' Chessie began, remembering with dismay how much it had cost.

'Look on it as a souvenir,' he said. 'Or even a reward for suffering, bravely borne.' He paused. 'Are you going to tell me what happened to your pendant?'

Nothing could have been further from her mind, yet, somehow, her lips were already shaping a reply.

'It was sold,' she said. 'They took everything. Left us with the bare essentials.' She hunched a shoulder. 'You saw how the house was.'

`I did.' He spoke gravely. 'And I'm sorry. That was a bad time for you.'

'Yes,' she said. She smoothed the aquamarine again with a gentle finger. 'But, strangely, it wasn't the jewellery that hurt most, or even the furniture.'

'What, then?'

'They took my old rocking-horse from the attic.' Her voice was bleak. I saw them carrying it out, and I wanted to shout at them to bring it back. Because one day my own children were going to ride it, and I needed it.' Her laugh cracked in the middle. 'I couldn't believe they'd actually take toys. Things that we'd loved so much. That had no value for anyone else.'

He said quietly, 'It's not a merciful process.' And started the car.

I've never told anyone that before, she thought, startled. Not even Jenny. Haven't let myself think about it. So, why now?

But she didn't want to go down that road, she told herself with determination. She couldn't afford to. Besides, she had more pressing problems to consider.

They were almost back at the house when he observed, 'You've been very quiet.' He paused. 'I hope I haven't resurrected too many sad memories.'

She said ruefully,` I was more concerned about the im¬mediate future, and how to tell Jenny.' She shook her head. 'Or even what to tell her. She's not exactly the soul of discretion.'

'Then tell her anything,' he said. 'Except the truth.'

She stiffened. `I don't make a habit of lying to her.'

'What a pity she doesn't treat you with equal candour.'

There was no answer to that, so she sent him a fulmi¬nating glance instead.

'Tell her that you've accepted me on purely economic grounds,' he went on. 'Then later you can admit that you can't bear to go through with it, and you're pulling out completely. She'll believe you. After all,' he added, almost casually, 'why should any woman agree to marry an ogre?'

'Oh, God.' Chessie bent her head as the car drew up in front of the house. 'You know about—that.' Her face was burning, and she couldn't look at him.

'I certainly knew she had a rock-bottom opinion of me.'

Miles shrugged slightly. 'But the nickname was news to me, until recently.'

He must, she thought wretchedly, have overheard them talking at some point. How many times had she begged Jenny to control her wayward tongue?

'I'm sorry. I—I don't know what to say.' She paused. 'She's very young in some ways, and she hates what's hap¬pened to us so much. And I think you've become a symbol of that.' She swallowed. 'Although that's no excuse.'

'Don't worry about it.' His mouth twisted. 'She'll have even more reason to slag me off when she hears I'm going to be her brother-in-law.'

Please let me wake up, Chessie pleaded silently as she undid her seat belt. Let me wake up and find this has all been some terrible dream.

'And just to add to your list of worries,' Miles added as she got out of the car, 'my sister is coming for the week¬end.'

'Mrs. Chubb mentioned there was to be a guest.' Chessie bit her lip. 'Is she bringing her family too?'

'Not this time. Robert is taking the children to stay with his parents. So we'll have Steffie's undivided attention.'

Chessie stared at him, appalled. 'What on earth is she going to think?'

'She'll think I proposed to you, and was accepted. That was Plan A, if you remember.' He gave her a brief, ironic smile. 'She's looking forward to meeting you,' he added, and drove off.

Chessie made her despondent way indoors, and went to her office. There were two calls on his answering machine. One was from his agent, but on the second, the caller had rung off without leaving a message.

I really hate that, Chessie thought. If it's a wrong num¬ber, why can't they have the decency to apologise? She wrote Vinnie Baxter's request for Miles to call her back on the memo pad on his desk, then took herself off to the flat.

As she entered she heard a chair being pushed back, and Jenny appeared in the kitchen doorway, white with temper.

'It's not true. Tell me she's lying, and it's not true.'

Chessie's heart sank. So much for breaking the news gently, she thought, sighing inwardly. She temporised. 'You're early. I thought you had choir practice.'

'What?' Jenny stared at her in bewilderment, then flushed. 'Oh—it was cancelled. And don't change the sub¬ject, Chess,' she added heatedly. 'What's going on?'

'Just calm down, please.' Chessie lifted her chin. 'Who is supposed to be lying—and about what?'

'You—and that bastard you work for. I've been told you're going to marry him.'

'Who told you?'

'Lady Markham—Linnet. I was at the bus stop in Hurstleigh, and she stopped and gave me a lift. She said you were engaged to Miles Hunter. She talked as if I should know all about it. I told her she must be mistaken, but she just laughed.' Jenny's voice shook. 'Tell me she's got it all wrong.'

'No,' Chessie returned with an assumption of calm. `I can't do that. I am engaged to Miles. We've just been in Hurstleigh ourselves, buying the ring. But I'd like to know what you were doing there,' she added coldly. 'Why didn't you come straight home from school, if choir practice was cancelled, as you're supposed to do?'

'My God, will you listen to yourself?' Jenny rolled her eyes to heaven, temporarily diverted. 'I'm not a small child. I can go into town, if I want.' She shook her head. 'I can't believe you, Chessie. How could you do this? It's obscene.'

'How dare you say that?' Chessie said furiously.

'Because it's the truth. How can you marry anyone when you're in love with Alastair? It's crazy—horrible. And es¬pecially when it's The Ogre.' She shuddered. 'Then it be¬comes revolting.'

'Stop that right now.' There was a note in Chessie's voice that shocked them both. 'You will never talk like that about Miles again, understand? I won't allow it' 'Chessie!'

'I mean it. Your attitude to him has been a disgrace from the start.' The words were tumbling over each other. 'He's kind and generous, and he wants to take care of us both, so, from now on, you start being civil at least.'

'But Alastair's back,' Jenny wailed. 'Why didn't you wait for him?'

'Because he didn't ask me to,' Chessie said steadily, steeling herself against the pang of remembered pain.

'But you can't be in love with Miles Hunter. You just can't.'

'I didn't say that.' Chessie dipped her toe into deep wa¬ters. 'But we have—an understanding, and our relationship will be based on that—not on some silly romantic dream.'

'I can't believe you've just said that.' Jenny sounded genuinely horrified. 'You must have let him brainwash you.'

'No,' Chessie returned. 'I'm just facing up to reality.'

`Then Linnet was right. She said you just wanted his money, and he was looking for a nurse. Oh, Chess, how can you?' She ended on a little wail of distress.

'Come and sit down.' Chessie led her firmly into the kitchen, and placed her at the table. 'Miles and I are en¬gaged, but not for any of the reasons you think.' She took a deep breath. 'We're going to try and build a relationship together, that's all. See if we can make it work.'

'And if it doesn't?' Jenny's eyes were fixed on her pain¬fully.

Chessie shrugged. "Then we part friends,' she returned with an insouciance she was far from feeling.

'Friends,' Jenny said bitterly. 'When was he ever our friend? He'd never get anyone to work as hard as you do for the money, and he wants to tie you down so that you don't leave and make a life for yourself. You're just going to moulder here with him. And he's an ice man. He has no feelings.'

For one burning, tingling moment, Chessie remembered the feel—the taste—of Miles' mouth on hers. The hunger in his lean body that had ignited her own crazy response. No feelings?

She swallowed. 'Well—we're not married yet. And I'm certainly old enough to make my own decisions. And while I'm doing so, you will behave,' she added sternly. 'So— no more of this secret pub crawls of yours.'

Jenny's flushed face wore an expression of mingled guilt and anger. 'I suppose he told you. He's always hanging round the garden at all hours being spooky.'

'Well, it's his garden,' Chessie reminded her levelly. 'And it wasn't Miles, anyway. Jim Fewston tipped me off.' She hesitated. 'He also told me you were seeing someone. Why didn't you tell me, Jen? You know I'm always glad to meet your friends.'

'For tea on Sunday, I suppose,' Jenny returned rudely. 'Do me a favour. Anyway, it's not a big thing, so don't fuss.'

'Has he at least got a name?'

'Zak,' Jenny conceded reluctantly. 'Zak Woods. He works in the garage on the bypass.'

'Oh.' Chessie tried to conceal her dismay. She'd as¬sumed he would be a sixth former at the local boys' school. 'How did you meet him?' she asked carefully.

Jenny looked down at the table. 'It was at that disco,' she said. 'The one I went to with Linda.'

But that was weeks ago, Chessie realised with alarm. And Jenny presumably had been seeing this Zak secretly all this time.

She steeled herself. 'Jenny, darling,' she said gently. 'You're going to take your exams in a week or two, and so much depends on them. Please don't do anything silly— that could affect the rest of your life.'

Jenny got to her feet. 'I call that rich coming from you, Chessie. Sort your own life out before you start handing out good advice, why don't you? Because from where I'm standing, you're a complete mess.'

And she flounced out of the room and slammed the door.

Well done me, Chessie thought, wincing. I made a really good job of that.

And she couldn't really argue with Jenny's parting shot either. She was in total chaos, lost in a kind of limbo, and uncertain what to do next.