Green Girl (25 page)

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Authors: Sara Seale

BOOK: Green Girl
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But that

s how I thought of you—that

s what you are—my employer,

she answered.


I also happen to be your husband,

he retorted a little dryly, and her eyes slid away from his.


Yes, well
...

she said vaguely, and he began rubbing his chin with that unconscious gesture of disturbance.


What

s changed you? Is it Rory?

he asked suddenly.


I haven

t changed. You

re just seeing me differently,

she said gently.


Yes, I think I am. Do you feel I

ve cheated you?


Cheated me?


Cheated you out of a fulfilment of all those romantic dreams you had in the orphanage.

The old raillery had crept back into his voice.


Dreams can be a substitute for spending,

she replied evasively.

We hadn

t any money of our own at Ogilvy

s and it costs nothing to dream.


Neither it does,

he agreed briskly.

However, all this is an unintentional digression. I brought you here, actually, to give you my private Christmas present. You were disappointed with my cheque, weren

t you?


Oh,
no
!”
she exclaimed, distress at being found wanting in gratitude driving all the rest out of her head.

You

ve been more than generous when I have a good allowance already. Please don

t think I wasn

t grateful.


It was the sort of gratitude reserved for charity, all the same, wasn

t it? I should have thought of that at the time, but I wanted my special gift to be given in private.

While he was speaking he had unlocked the safe which stood with the filing cabinets against one wall, and taken out a flat leather case which he now placed in her hands.


Open it,

he said, as she stood there hesitating, and she fumbled with the snap which was a little stiff, then stood gazing speechlessly at the string of pearls which lay coiled on a bed of velvet, the clasp of diamonds and sapphires catching fire from the dismal morning light.


Oh
,”
she said at last, and the eyes she raised to his were bright with tears.


Here—let me put them on for you,

he said a little roughly, and snapped the pearls round her neck.

Yes, they become you very well. They aren

t new, but they

re well matched, and you have the right skin for pearls. Don

t look so startled, child! It

s a husband

s privilege and duty when funds permit to provide a few trinkets for his wife. You have no jewellery, have you?


Well, you could hardly expect the orphanage to stretch the funds to that,

she said quite seriously, and he laughed.


How endearing and solemn you are,

he told her, and her frozen moment of awkward astonishment passed, and she flung her arms round his neck without thinking and kissed him, her tears wet against his face.


Thank you
...
thank you, dear Duff
...”
she said.

If they had o
nl
y been a worthless string of beads I would have treasured them because—a personal gift is precious.

He seemed to return her kiss with a lover

s desire to linger and explore, brushing his lips along the fine bones of cheek and brow, his hands cupping her face very lightly, very delicately.


Are you happy, Harriet?

he asked on an odd little note of urgency, and she opened her eyes and smiled at him with something very much more than happiness.


Yes,

she said.

You

re forgetting, for once, I

m a child.


Was I forgetting? Well, those freckles should remind me, if nothing else,

he said, not ready yet to come to terms with himself, and saw her eyes cloud over.


I

ve always
hated
those freckles!

she said, as if they alone were to blame for all life

s disappointments, and he laughed.


But why? Freckles are called fairy dust in these parts, and that should please your wool-gathering heart, Besides, they

re considered lucky.


Are they? Lonnegan

s Luck
...
the old name for Clooney
...


That was before the luck ran out—perhaps you and your fairy freckles will bring it back,

he said.

Well, I

m glad you

re pleased with your pearls; we must see about some more trinkets for you later on. I

m sure the regrettable absence of an engagement ring won

t pass unnoticed by the ladies of the district if they come to call.


That wasn

t in the contract,

she pointed out, only wishing to be fair, but knew at once that she had said the wrong thing again as she saw his ugly features harden in distaste.


It

s not necessary to remind me, my dear. I had no intention of offering bribes as a prelude to breaking my own rules, I assure you,

he said, and sat down at his desk, pulling one of the skewered piles of business papers towards him, and Harriet knew herself dismissed.

By the time luncheon was over, Harriet knew that her Christmas was a failure. The day was out of kilter, and from the leaking hot water bottle to the half-hearted pulling of crackers which had sent Uriah into screaming hysterics and banishment, one irritation had piled upon another. Samantha

s presents had been ostentatious and too expensive, her efforts to keep the party going too obvious, and it had been a great mistake to insist upon using the vast and icy dining-room to mark the occasion.

It was a relief when they were able to return to the warmth of the snug for a post-prandial spell of somnolent comfort before the children

s party was due to start, but even the thought of the party, which for Harriet was to have been the crowning moment of the day, failed to cheer her. Duff, as usual, had been right, the Castle should have been dealt with on the grand scale or not at all, and she should have left well alone.

The two men had subsided into easy chairs at the end of the room and were smoking and lazily discussing various matters to do with the estate, and Samantha joined Harriet on the long fender stool for what she described as a cosy feminine natter.


It

s quite a time since you and I got together,

she said, her husky voice warm and inviting like the scent which every time she moved gave out tiny wafts of fragrance.

You

ve certainly gone to town on Christmas, honey. Are those Kitty

s pearls you

re wearing?

The question was casual enough, but Harriet felt a small sense of shock. Duff had told her the pearls were not new, but she had not supposed that they had belonged to his first wife.


Very likely,

she replied, with a good simulation of indifference.

They

re Duff

s Christmas present.


Oh, really? They were his wedding present to Kitty. I hope they don

t bring bad luck. Pearls mean tears, you know, and she wore them at another Christmas party when he found out she wasn

t such a good little girl as he thought her.


That was sad for him—and for her,

said Harriet.


Oh, Duff made excuses enough to himself, but his answer wasn

t a very happy one for either of them. He got her with child, you see, very soon after, and thought that would settle things for both of them. It was a little shattering, you can understand, to feel he was responsible for her death. Now let

s leave my foolish little cousin

s mistakes and take a look at yours. Are you going to be content to take a back
seat, too, like poor Kitty

s child, grateful for the crumbs?

Harriet resisted a strong temptation to scratch Samantha

s fine veneer with blunt orphanage retaliation, but succeeded in answering coolly enough:


Poor Kitty

s child takes a ba
c
k seat from her own choice. She prefers her own company, and I must confess there are times when I sympathise with her.


Who

s being a pussy cat now?

Samantha mocked, her beautiful, spoilt mouth curving in a pleasurable smile.

You

ve only learnt the first spittings of a kitten, though, honey, so don

t try tangling with me.

Harriet sent a quick look across the room, hoping to catch somebody

s eye, but the men were still immersed in farming technicalities.


It

s you, I think, who want to tangle with me, Samantha,

she said wearily.

Why can

t you be content with whatever you

ve got and leave me alone?


Certainly I

ll leave you alone if you

ll reciprocate, darling.


When have I ever interfered with you?


Well, you interfered quite seriously when you married into Clooney, presumably to shake off the orphanage background, since you couldn

t have been in love with Duff, but that you weren

t to know. I

m compromising too, you know. I wanted marriage, but I

ll settle for the other thing since there

s not much choice.


Are you suggesting I should share my husband with you, by any chance?

asked Harriet politely, and wondered with faint surprise why she should appear to find no difficulty in meeting Samantha on equal terms where with Duff it was well-nigh impossible.


Not your husband, darling—just your husband

s favours,

drawled Samantha.

After all, you have the attentive Rory to supply the romance if that

s where Duff fails you.


You

re rather foolish to try to drag Rory in,

she said, trying not to sound as defeated as she felt.

He

s been charming to me, yes, but he

s Duff

s cousin and that

s all there is to it.


But Duff, I rather fancy, has other ideas,

Samantha said, and Harriet, who knew
to
her mortification that she was blushing, saw the long eyes narrow.


O-ho!

she chuckled.

That evidently went home. Well now, Harriet, let

s have an understanding between us. You play along with me and I

ll play along with you. Turn a blind eye to Duff

s affair, as most sensible wives have to do, but try getting me thrown out, and I

ll have to corroborate what

s been going on under his nose. He won

t take the usual steps, unfortunately, with this tiresome phobia about divorce, but he

ll make life pretty dismal for you.

The freckles were beginning to stand out as Harriet

s face lost colour.


No!

she said, her voice pitched to a note of shrillness.

I

ve bargained once—I

m not bargaining again with you.


Very well,

Samantha said softly,

then you must take what

s coming to you.

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