A Bad Enemy (21 page)

Mrs Allard had noticed the missing ring immediately, but she had said nothing, although her face was frankly concerned. She had stayed at the Priory overnight, and rather to her surprise, Lisle had found that her presence had eased the situation between herself and Jake. By the time his mother departed, he had withdrawn behind the barrier of cool courtesy to which Lisle was slowly becoming accustomed.

She had traced Gerard at last, finding him during the evening at her old flat with Janie again. Her news was clearly a blow to him, but it had been a couple of days before he had come down to the Priory—a fact on which Jake had commented caustically.

'I didn't realise he was so vain,' he said coldly when another twenty-four hours had passed, and there was still no sign of Gerard.

'He isn't well.' Lisle had leapt to Gerard's defence, and Jake's mouth curled in contempt.

'No? Then he'll have to learn to keep away from other men's wives. Or was he trying to keep it secret that Harry Foxton gave him a going over? If so, he's been wasting his time. Foxton was trumpeting it all over London the following day—as a warning to any other potentially interested parties, no doubt,' he added sardonically.

'Oh.' Lisle flushed, mortified. 'He—he didn't want you to know.'

'Why not? Afraid of forfeiting my good opinion? Surely not.' He stopped abruptly, his eyes flicking over her distressed face, and he sighed. 'I'm sorry, I have no right to punish you for Gerard's shortcomings.' He paused. 'In fact, I've no right to punish you at all. Forgive me.'

It had been, she thought wryly, almost the only intimate moment they had shared.

Each night, she had walked the floor in her room, fighting a compulsion to go to him, to offer herself on any terms at all. But fear prevented her. Fear that he would look at her with those blank polite eyes and reject her. She sighed. Any such move on her part could only be an embarrassment to him, and a humiliation for her.

He might have wanted her once, she told herself, but no longer. And it was obvious that her decision to end their travesty of a relationship had been a relief to him. His whole attitude emphasised that.

A log subsided in a little shower of sparks in the wide grate, and Lisle knelt to make up the fire, aware of a chill that had little to do with the temperature of the room.

The drawing room door opened, and Gerard came in looking peevish.

'Well, that's the last of them, thank goodness. I thought Oliver Grayson would never go.' He shot her a malicious glance. 'Hoping for a private
tête-à-tête 
with you, no doubt.'

'You think so?' Lisle dusted her hands together and rose to her feet. 'Now, I had the distinct impression he was avoiding me.'

'Not you, my sweet—your erstwhile fiancè. The rumour at the office is that our Oliver will be resigning before long.'

Lisle paused. Then she said slowly, 'Well, he won't be short of offers from other firms. Grandfather thought very highly of him, you know.'

'Oh yes,' Gerard agreed indifferently. 'But he won't get the same kind of testimonial from Allard, broken engagement or not. Poor Grayson, I hope you haven't wrecked his career along with his hopes.'

She said in a stifled voice, 'So do I. Now I suppose we'd better find Mr Lithgow and get this will business over with. Do you know where he is?'

'Waiting for us in the library, for reasons best known to himself. Perhaps he feels this room is too frivolous for anything as solemn as a will reading.'

Lisle sighed. 'Do we really have to go through with it?

What point is there, after all? We know what the provisions are.'

'I suppose we do.' Gerard gave her an odd look.

'Of course. He told us both a couple of years ago.' Lisle spoke with a trace of impatience. 'You can't have forgotten.'

'I haven't forgotten what he said then,' Gerard agreed. 'But a lot of things have happened since then, Lisle. It's never occurred to you that there might have been some changes? Or didn't you know that old Lithgow had been to the hospital a couple of times at Murray's urgent request?'

'No, I didn't.' Lisle spoke calmly, but she was conscious of the first vague stirrings of alarm. She was remembering the staffs complaints about the frequency of visitors, and Murray's own words when she had questioned him—'
Advisers in various capacities'
, delivered with evident satisfaction. She said after another pause, 'Perhaps he wanted to make some kind of bequest to Jake. After all, he—he liked him very much.

'Yes, didn't he?' Gerard's voice was dry. 'Where is Allard, by the way?'

'I don't know. Probably in his room, packing. His mother is returning to the South of France in a day or two. He'll want to spend some time with her before she goes, and there's nothing more for him to stay here for.'

Gerard gave her a startled look. 'I doubt if he'd agree with you, my sweet. Apart from any personal legacy, he has a vested interest in Murray's will through you.'

'Not any more.' Lisle held out her bare hand. 'Had you really not noticed? I thought you were just being unusually tactful.'

'Naturally I'd seen the rock was missing, but I'd assumed it was something to do with mourning.' Gerard gave her a horrified look. 'For Pete's sake, Lisle! You haven't done anything drastic, have you?'

'If you choose to put it that way-yes.'

Her brother's voice was sharp. 'Then you're a fool, my dear. From the hints old Lithgow was dropping to me earlier, it's something you may regret. Now, we'd better go and hear what he has to say.'

Jake was already in the library when they arrived. The dark face was cool and reflective, and Lisle could read nothing from his expression. Mr Lithgow, on the other hand, looked positively harassed.

He began briskly enough. There were a few small bequests, including a generous lump sum to the Petersons, before he arrived at the main provisions. He dealt with Gerard's part of the legacy first, and it was all familiar and straightforward exactly as Murray himself had explained it to them.

She heard her name, and looked at the little solicitor, aware that he had hesitated.

Mr Lithgow cleared his throat. 'I am not sure, Miss Bannerman, whether or not your grandfather took you into his confidence over the recent alterations he saw fit to make in the provisions which affect you. As you know, it was his intention to leave you this house and sufficient money for its upkeep and to provide you with an income, as well as some more personal items. However, in view of your forthcoming marriage, he decided to place more emphasis on the future. The Priory therefore, and the income I have mentioned is now left to you in trust for your children by Mr James Christopher Allard, and the entire bequest is wholly conditional on your marriage with Mr Allard taking place within one calendar month.

There was a roaring in her ears, and Mr Lithgow and his solemn face seemed suddenly to have receded to a great distance.

She said in a small polite voice like a child's, 'I'm sorry, I don't quite understand.'

Mr Lithgow looked at her with slight disapproval. 'My explanation lacked clarity? Then I had better read the terms to you as they are set out here.'

The dry legal language was no easier to comprehend, but it gave her a breathing space and served as well to convince her that it was all terribly, horrifyingly true.

When he had finished reading, she said, 'And if Mr Allard and I fail to—comply—what then?'

Mr Lithgow rustled his papers, clearly embarrassed. 'Various charities benefit from both the sale of the house, and the monies which would have come to you.

She felt numb. 'In other words, I get nothing.' She was aware that Jake was watching her, the grey eyes enigmatic.

'On the contrary, Miss Bannerman,' Mr Lithgow sounded almost shocked. 'I cannot see where the problem arises. You and Mr Allard are, after all, engaged, and I understood from my late client that your marriage would soon take place. All that has happened is that your inheritance has been placed in trust for your children.' He gave her a benign smile. 'As I'm sure you know, Miss Bannerman, your marriage was one of the dearest wishes of your grandfather's heart, and there is no reason why matters should not proceed to everyone's entire satisfaction.'

From the other side of the room—or possibly from the other side of the known world—she heard Jake say shortly, 'No reason at all. Thank you, Mr Lithgow, for explaining Mr Bannerman's wishes so clearly. Can we persuade you to stay and have some lunch with us?'

Mr Lithgow looked gratified as he gathered, his papers together and stowed them in his briefcase. 'I am very much obliged, but I fear that I must return to the office. I have various appointments of some urgency.'

Somehow Lisle found herself shaking hands, even managing a smile. As Gerard and Jake escorted Mr Lithgow out of the room, she sank limply back into her chair, staring blindly in front of her.

Gerard was the first to return. 'So, my sweet, you're a blushing bride once more.'

Lisle looked at him. 'You knew!'

He shook his head. 'Not the details, but I guessed he'd find some way of backing you into a corner. Murray was never a trusting soul, heaven knows, and he probably guessed your engagement would survive no longer than he did himself.

She said fiercely, 'How could he do such a thing? How could he?'

Gerard shrugged. 'To make sure he got what he wanted, as he always did. He was a determined man, and he wouldn't allow a little thing like his own death to interfere with his plans for the human race, or his section of it.' He gave a short laugh. 'Your only problem now is to convince the hard-headed Mr Allard that you've had a romantic change of heart, totally unprompted by any mercenary motivation. I wish you luck.'

She got up restlessly and went over to the window. 'I—I could always contest the will.'

'On what grounds? That Murray was of unsound mind when he made it?' Gerard's mouth turned down at the corners. That simply wouldn't wash, darling. He was knife-sharp to the end, and you know it, and so does anyone else who had any dealings with him.' He gave a slight yawn. 'No, I'm afraid, sister dear, you'll have to give in gracefully to the inevitable—which in your case is Jake Allard. Use your powers of persuasion, and that pretty bauble will be back in your finger before you know it.'

'I can't—I'd rather die!'

'Brave words.' His voice was sceptical. 'But you can't bluff any more, Lisle. The pistol at your head is really loaded this time, and one has to be practical, after all.'

'Yes,' Jake said evenly from the doorway, 'one certainly does.

Lisle stayed where she was, her back turned rigidly to him. Her heart was thudding so hard suddenly that she felt almost sick. She felt rather than saw a movement and realised that Gerard was discreetly making himself scarce.

She waited for Jake to say something, but the silence in the room seemed to go on for ever. She began to ache with tension, her jaw set, her hands clenching into fists among the folds of her black dress.

She was just beginning to think she might scream when he said silkily, 'What are you waiting for, beauty? A declaration of undying passion, made on my knees?'

Lisle gritted her teeth, 'Hardly.'

'Then let's follow your brother's advice and stick to practicalities. Unless we comply with your grandfather's requirements, you'll be homeless and virtually penniless.' His voice was curt. 'Do you agree that's an accurate assessment of the position?'

Lisle stared unseeingly at the garden. 'I could get a job. I'm not helpless.'

'No, but you're totally unqualified. You're unlikely to be offered anything which will bring in half the salary you  were paid from Harlow Bannerman, if in fact you can find work at all.'

Her voice sounded brittle. 'I'm well aware it's a buyer's market.'

'It is indeed.' His tone was quiet and emotionless. 'You won't get a better offer than mine, Lisle, on economic grounds alone.'

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. 'And what other grounds could there be?'

'None at all,' he said. 'Murray has put us into a cleft stick, beauty. We no longer have a choice. Little as either of us wants this marriage, we have to go through with it. But it doesn't have to be a life sentence. Murray imposed no conditions about us having to stay married.'

Anguish stabbed at her, but she managed to control her instinctive recoil from his words. .

She said, 'You make it sound so simple. But it isn't. There are—other conditions, in case you'd forgotten.'

'You mean Murray's flattering faith in our ability to have children? I don't know of any reason why we shouldn't.'

'No — except that I wouldn't want…' Her hands were clasped in front of her now as if she was praying.

'What wouldn't you want?' His voice bit at her.

'To bring a child into something that wasn't a real home,' she said baldly. 'And ours couldn't be—not if it was just a temporary measure to satisfy a legal requirement.'

There was a silence, then he said, 'That's a fair point. Will it reassure you if I promise that any marriage between us will remain—merely a legal requirement?'

Her voice was a thread of sound. 'I—I don't know. I can't think straight. You must give me time.'

'I seem to have heard that before,' he said drily. 'Very well, Lisle, take as much time as you need—up to a calendar month, of course. In the circumstances, no one will wonder if we keep the actual ceremony as quiet and simple as possible.'

'You're very sure of yourself,' she said bitterly. 'You're convinced that I'm going to agree.'

'I'd like to think you had an alternative,' he said, 'But you love this house, and you've always enjoyed a certain standard of living. I can't visualise you throwing it all away…'

'For a principle?' she said stonily. 'No, that's hardly my style, is it? I'll let you know as soon as I've reached a decision. No doubt you'll want to get back to London now,' She paused. 'Thank you for everything you've done. You've been more than kind.'

'What did it cost you to tell me that, I wonder?' he asked with cold irony. 'Yes, I'm going. Please don't keep me waiting too long for your answer.'

Lisle heard the library door close, and slowly she forced herself to relax the stiff tension of her stance. She had been terrified that Jake might touch her, because that would have been fatal.