A Pearl for Love (13 page)

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Authors: Mary Cummins

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1973

BOOK: A Pearl for Love
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The older girl stood still and considered her, then she gave a short laugh.


All right, my dear, I

ll help you. I

ll make you the belle of the ball, as they say. It might be
...
rather fun.

Elizabeth went into her bedroom and shut the door. It hadn

t sounded as though it would be much fun, and Catherine turned away, even more perplexed. Why was Elizabeth behaving like this? Surely she couldn

t still be jealous of her. After all, she was going with John, not with Michael.

She made her way slowly downstairs, where Aunt Lucille pounded on her as a sympathetic ear into which she could pour her news items of the day.

With a small sigh, Catherine settled down to listen.

The dress which Elizabeth helped Catherine to choose was the loveliest she had ever owned. The older girl had studied her thoughtfully, her long
slender
fingers drumming
on the dressing table, after coming to her room that
n
ight
.

‘You
need a hair-do, and a hairdresser w
ho
knows when to leave wel
l
alone. I
’ll
make a
n
appointment for you. Also yo
u’re
inclined to
put on a little too
much make-
u
p a
t
the moment.

Catherine flushed. It was true
. In
Perth s
h
e had scarcely used make-up at all
,
but now she used
i
t as a sort of defence, as though hiding her real fa
ce from t
he world.


It never really spoils what is underneath.

Elizabeth said rather mare gentry.

I doubt if
you c
ould d
o
that if you tried.

Catherine said nothing, and again Elizabeth considered her.


You

re a strange girl
,’
she said at length, sitting down
on
the bed.

You

re a
beauty
,
yet sometimes I think you couldn

t care less Yon comb your
hair
at top speed each morning
and put on
make-up then you hardly look at yourself for the
rest of the
day apart from washing o
ff
the grime
.
You treat your complexion shamefully, yet it
still
stays fresh for you.


I ... I forget.

Catherine excused herself.


Exactly. You forget.

Elizabeth sighed and heaved herself off the bed.
‘Let’s g
o shopping tomorrow
lunchtime
and buy
you
a stunning dress. I
think
I know where to find
i
t. Something simple and sweet, rather than
smart.
You ca
n
outshine a dress, Kate, so we
’ll
concentrate o
n
showing yo
u off
rather than the dress.


I

m grateful, Elizabeth,

she said gravely.

Only I ... I can

t afford high prices.


No more can I,

said Elizabeth, with a short laugh.

Don

t worry, we can surely find something which won

t leave you skint.

Catherine chuckled, and Elizabeth

s rather austere face broke into a smile.


You

ve been nice to me ever since I was practically foisted on to you,

said Catherine impulsively.

I

ve wanted to thank you for it many times. I ... I would never do anything to hurt you in return.


Sometimes one has only to be oneself, to hurt other people,

Elizabeth told her, then she walked the few paces to the door.

Don

t worry, Catherine. It

s suited us very well, having you here. You

ve come to us at the best possible time. It

s we who should be grateful to you.

She closed the door gently, and Catherine prepared for bed, though it was some time before she fell asleep.

The dress which Elizabeth chose for her next day was of cream silk, simply cut. Her dark hair, still long but beautifully cut, gleamed with brushing, and with Elizabeth

s help, her skin glowed like a pearl, which was how John described her later in the evening.

Catherine knew she looked her best as she walked downstairs with Elizabeth, who was herself looking
smart and elegant in a gold sheath dress. She had taken pride in Catherine

s beauty, and smiled when her mother and father exclaimed when they saw her.


My dear, you look lovely!

said Lucille.


It was all Elizabeth

s doing.


Very nice,

agreed Uncle James, and John stopped in the doorway as he entered the room. He made no comment, but for a moment something glowed in his eyes.


Don

t you think she looks nice?

asked Lucille.


Very nice,

he echoed.

Are you coming with
us, Elizabeth, or do you prefer to use your new car? Or, of course, is Michael coming for you?

Elizabeth looked even more cool than ever.


He offered to come, but I thought it more sensible if I go with you.


Come on, then,

said John.

Time we went.

He was looking very tall and elegant in his dark
clothes, and Catherine couldn

t help feeling a tiny bit disappointed that he had not shown more interest in her dress. Some of the free and easy comradeship had gone out of her relationship with John and her mind sought for what had gone wrong. She could only think of Rosalie Craven. Perhaps he was feeling unhappy over Rosalie, and although the gi
rl
seemed to want to pick up the threads again, for some reason, perhaps John was afraid of being hurt all over again.

Catherine sighed. She knew too little of what had gone before to judge.


Are you warm enough?

asked John, adjusting the car heater as she pulled the small fur jacket Aunt Lucille had lent her closer to her neck.


Oh, yes, thanks.

Her sudden shiver had had nothing to do with the cold.


We

ll soon be there,

said Elizabeth.

Oh
...
I might not be coming back with you two. I may want to leave early.


No doubt Michael will bring you home,

said John, rather dryly, and his sister didn

t reply.

Michael was waiting for them in the foyer of the hotel, and he stepped forward, looking immaculate in his dark suit, though his clothes were very much more modem than John

s.

There was no doubt that he was a very handsome young man, thought Catherine, when she caught sight of him, and his gaze on her was intense before Elizabeth stepped forward and took his arm.


I hope you haven

t been kept waiting, darling,

she said sweetly, and Michael murmured something which Catherine couldn

t catch.

It was a strange mixed-up evening, from her point of view. As John escorted her through to the dance floor, after leaving her jacket in the cloakroom, she gave herself up to the enjoyment of dancing again. For a moment her thoughts were on Philip, as John was the first man with whom she had danced since she used to go regularly with Philip.

But she could now think of him with gentleness and not the searing pain of loss, and she felt that he would be happy to see her here, among other young people, learning to enjoy her life again.

John was an excellent dancer, and as Catherine looked up at him she began to see that there was strength and purpose on his face which was lacking in Michael

s, whose good looks were often rather sulky. She had always thought of the other man as much the better-looking of the two, but now she was wondering why she had ever believed such a thing. With his older, more traditional clothes, John looked far more distinguished.


Do you really like my dress?

she asked shyly.

He

d had so little to say to her that she felt almost tongue-tied. His face relaxed a little.


You look like a pearl,

he told her, and her cheeks glowed a little with colour.


That

s quite a compliment. You know how much I love and admire pearls.


Then you must consider yourself of great price
.’
he told her gravely.

Michael claimed her for the next dance, holding her very close so that she tried to break free a little.


I

m sorry, but I can

t dance like that,

she told him, watching John sweep past with Elizabeth. She felt embarrassed with Michael gazing down into her face.


Why should we have an old-fashioned waltz if I can

t hold you close? You

re looking very lovely, Catherine.


Elizabeth chose everything for me
,’
she said deliberately.

She helped me buy my dress, and have my hair cut properly.


She has very good taste
,’
he told her smoothly,

but you are still lovely. However, I rather think someone is trying to outdo you
.’

She looked in the direction he had indicated, and saw that Rosalie Craven, in a stunning white and silver crepe dress which showed her beautiful arms and shoulders to perfection, had just come in, accompanied by a young man with a rather loud laugh, which sounded even above the music as they stood talking at the door.


She

ll be making a beeline for our John
,’
said Michael, his eyes gleaming into hers.

She gave him the go-by when an American family came over on holiday, and she got friendly with the son. They were decidedly rich, and I rather think she thought herself all set for marriage, and a nice easy life in America, with all the trimmings. But now she

s home again, minus any sort of ring—even John

s little flowery one.


That

s a lovely ring!

cried Catherine.
‘I’m
sure any girl would be proud to wear it.


Are you getting cross?

asked Michael.

Would
you
be thinking that it might fit you? If so, you might save yourself a lot of heartache by forgetting all about it.

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