His Convenient Marriage (9 page)

She turned to Miles, leaving Chessie flushed but mute with fury. 'So, how do you come to be in Wenmore Abbas? Don't you find it the most frightful backwater?'

'No, I was looking for peace and quiet, and some space,' Miles responded with cool courtesy. 'Silvertrees seemed to fill the bill.'

'All this and a domestic goddess thrown in.' Linnet's smile was honeyed. `I have to admit, alas, that if it weren't for poor Robert's mishap, I wouldn't have come back here ever. But the prospect of anything else seemed to agitate him so dreadfully, I gave way.' She gave a little trill of laughter. 'But at least we've returned to find a congenial neighbour for a change. And a famous writer too. So ex¬citing.'

'Francesca would be the first to tell you that I lead a very dull life,' he drawled. 'Although, occasionally, it has its moments.'

Chessie, aware of the lightning glance of amusement that he'd thrown her, felt her hands curl into impotent fists in her lap.

She was thankful that Linnet seemed to be tired of her as a topic, and had turned instead to her husband's illness, her reaction to it, and her determination to see that he had the best of care.

She makes herself sound like an amalgam of Florence Nightingale and Mother Teresa, Chessie thought wearily as she removed the soup bowls and prepared to cook her om¬elette.

Linnet was fulsome in her praise for this too. ` I wish I'd known Chessie was available,' she sighed. 'Or I might have snaffled her from you. But I suppose it's too late now. Rather a drastic step,' she added. 'To propose marriage in order to keep your staff, but I can appreciate that you wouldn't want to lose her.'

Miles' smile was silky. 'Fortunately Chessie has other talents apart from the purely domestic,' he said softly.

'I'm sure she has.' Linnet leaned confidentially towards him. 'I hope I'm not telling tales out of school, but Chessie was involved with my stepson years ago. She was little more than a child, of course, but so precocious.' She paused. 'You haven't met Alastair yet, of course.'

'No,' Miles said meditatively. 'But, apparently, I caught a glimpse of him last night.'

Linnet's fork clattered onto her plate. She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her lips. 'Really? I don't see...'

'He was paying a visit on Chessie and her sister,' Miles went on. 'I happened to be around when he was leaving.'

Linnet's smile was rather pinched. 'Well, he hasn't wasted much time.' She put her hand on Miles' arm. 'I'd tie Chessie down without delay. From what I remember, she used to be very smitten with him. When do you plan to announce your engagement?'

'We don't.' The words were out before Chessie could stop them. She saw Linnet's arched brows lift, and groaned inwardly.

'What Chessie means is that we prefer to keep the whole thing private,' Miles said smoothly. 'Inform only the people we want to know about it.'

'But you are going to buy her a ring. Call me old-fashioned, but I do think it's a convention that should be observed.'

Linnet's own 'convention' was a diamond cluster reach¬ing to her knuckle. Chessie had always been surprised she didn't list to port under its weight.

`I couldn't agree more,' Miles said affably. 'I'd planned to take Chessie into town this afternoon and rectify the omission. I've asked Atterbournes to have a selection of rings for us to look at, darling,' he added.

Chessie didn't trust herself to look at him. She said stiffly, 'I'd hoped there wouldn't be a lot of fuss.'

'I'll buy the smallest stone available,' he promised in¬stantly.

Linnet made a fuss about pushing back her chair. 'Then I must leave you in peace to go shopping,' she exclaimed. 'No dessert, thank you, Chessie, dear, although fresh fruit is always so tempting. And goodbye for now, Miles.' She took his hand and clasped it. 'Although I'm sure we'll meet again very soon.'

`I think it more than probable,' he agreed impassively.

'I'll see you out,' Chessie said, trying not to sound too eager.

As they reached the front door Linnet turned on her. 'Take my advice,' she said brusquely. 'Get what you can out of him while it's on offer. Because it won't last. He's come down here to put the Sandie Wells thing behind him, but you're only a stopgap. Very soon he's going to realise that a few scars and a walking stick haven't reduced his pulling power by any noticeable amount, and he'll be look¬ing elsewhere.'

Chessie lifted her chin. 'I bow to your expert knowl¬edge,' she said scornfully. 'Goodbye, Linnet.'

She closed the door and leaned against it, struggling to control her temper, and the odd wave of misery that had attacked her suddenly from nowhere.

Linnet was a Class A bitch, and always had been, and she was stupid to let her remarks get to her.

None of this is real, so why should I care what she thinks? She thought. And wished she could find an answer to that that made any sense at all.

CHAPTER FIVE

Chessie marched back to the dining room, expecting con¬frontation, but was disconcerted to find it deserted.

So, I may as well revert to housekeeper mode, she thought, tight-lipped, as she began to clear the table. She carried the dirty crockery into the kitchen and started to load the dishwasher.

She still felt dazed at the way events seemed to have snowballed in the last twenty-four hours, but about one thing she was very clear. She was going to leave Silvertrees at the earliest opportunity. She no longer had any choice in the matter. Or reason to delay her decision.

As she worked she kept glancing over her shoulder, ex¬pecting to see Miles appear in the doorway at any moment. And what would she do when—if it happened? How would she react? That was what she found impossible to figure out. And that was why she knew she had to go.

She switched on the dishwasher, and stood for a moment, staring out of the kitchen window at the view she'd known all her life. It would be a wrench to leave it, but she had no choice. Things were spiralling out of control, and she was frightened—scared stiff of how Miles could make her feel, and what he might make her do.

What was the name Linnet had mentioned? Sandie— Sandie Wells? It sounded familiar, but she didn't know why. How strange, she thought, that she should have worked for Miles all this time, yet had only recently learned he'd once been in a serious relationship, and the name of the girl he'd loved.

Sighing, she walked out of the kitchen and back to her office. She sat down at her desk, drafted her resignation,and printed it. She folded the sheet of paper and put it in an envelope. She would leave it on Miles' table for him to find when he returned. He might have gone for a walk, as he sometimes did after lunch, or disappeared down to the cellar, which he'd had fitted out as a gym, for a workout. Or he might simply have decided to go up to his room for a rest.

She had not, however, expected to find him in the study, also gazing out of the window.

'Oh.' She checked in surprise. 'I didn't realise...'

'Is there a problem?'

'No—not really. I...' She looked down at the envelope she was clutching. Simply handing it to him in person had not been part of the plan at all.

'Is that for me?' He held out his hand. 'What is it?'

'Four weeks' notice,' she said, and swallowed 'As spec¬ified in the terms of my contract.'

He opened the envelope and read the contents, his face expressionless. 'May I ask why?'

'Oh.' Chessie shrugged awkwardly. 'So many reasons.'

'I hope what happened between us earlier isn't one of them.' He spoke gravely.

'No.' Then: 'Well, yes—a little, perhaps.'

'You've been kissed before.' His tone was dry.

'Of course.' But not like that. Never like that. 'All the same, it was something that shouldn't have happened.'

'If you're waiting for me to apologise, or even express a word of regret, then you'll wait a long time,' he said. He paused. 'You have another job to go to?' He spoke with courteous interest—no more.

'Not yet.' Chessie kept her own voice steady. 'But I will.'

'Naturally.' His mouth twisted. 'You're an excellent worker.'

Was that really all he had to say? she asked herself in bewilderment.

She said, 'Do you want me to draw up an ad for my replacement?'

'I think I'll use an agency instead.' He was silent for a moment, looking down at the paper in his hand. Then his eyes met hers. He was smiling faintly. 'Is this an oblique way of telling me you won't marry me?'

Chessie bit her lip. 'That was never going to happen. You must have known.'

He shrugged. 'It seemed to make a lot of sense. I hoped you'd think so too.'

'I'm sorry.' She shook her head. 'But I don't see mar¬riage as an expedient.'

'Ah,' he said softly 'Love or nothing. Is that it, Francesca?'

'You don't think that's possible?'

'I think it might well depend on where you went looking for love.' He spoke crisply, glancing at his watch.

Clearly, the interview was at an end. Her resignation ac¬cepted and confined to history, thought Chessie, feeling oddly deflated.

She lifted her chin. 'I'm sorry. Am I keeping you from something?'

'Our appointment at Atterbournes is in an hour's time.' He sounded matter of fact. 'I thought you might have things you want to do first.'

'Atterbournes,' Chessie echoed, staring at him. 'But I don't understand.'

'We're going to buy an engagement ring. I mentioned it at lunch.'

'Yes.' Her head was spinning. 'But I didn't think you meant it.'

'I rarely say what I don't mean. I thought you'd have realised that by now.'

She said wildly, 'But I'm leaving. You know that— you've agreed. Under the circumstances, you can't mean us to go on with this ridiculous pretence.'

'Oh, but I do,' Miles said gently. 'And when the four weeks are up, we can stage a spectacular quarrel, or simply cite irreconcilable differences and part in a civilised man¬ner. The choice is yours.'

She gave him an inimical look. 'I choose to stop now.'

He shrugged. 'Not on offer, darling. Besides, you'll be job-hunting soon, and you're going to need a reference,' he added silkily. 'So, you'll work out your notice on my terms. And I require the current arrangement to continue.'

'That's blackmail.' Her voice shook.

Miles tutted reprovingly. 'Think of it as pragmatism. A simple and practical exchange of favours.'

If she'd only had herself to consider, she'd have wished him to hell and back, and walked out, but there was Jenny, who had important exams coming up. She couldn't afford to make them both homeless.

She bent her head. 'Very well.' Her voice was colourless.

'Cheer up, Francesca.' His tone was mocking. 'Only four weeks to endure. You'll take it in your efficient stride.'

Will I? she thought. Will I?

She said, 'But I won't wear a ring.'

'Not negotiable, I'm afraid,' Miles drawled. 'I think it's wise—with all these old friends around. But I'll make sure it's the smallest stone available, if that makes you feel bet¬ter,' he added, his mouth twisting.

She said fiercely, 'I am not your property. You cannot— mark me.'

He threw back his head, and the blue eyes burned into hers. 'I could,' he said. 'And we both know it. Or do you require further proof?'

Chessie was the first to look away. 'No.' Her voice was barely audible.

'Another sensible decision. You see how easy it all be¬comes?'

All I see, Chessie thought as she went back to the flat to change, is that I could be heading for the four most difficult weeks of my life.

* * *

Atterbournes was an old-fashioned family jewellers, occu¬pying double-fronted premises in the High Street. There was a thick Turkey carpet on the floor, and several highly polished tables, with comfortable chairs, set at discreet dis¬tances from each other, where negotiations could take place in appropriately hushed tones.

Chessie's first pair of earrings had been bought there, and the string of real pearls her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday, she remembered with nostalgia as she lingered for a moment, scanning one of the window displays.

I wonder what happened to it all, she thought regretfully as the shop bell tinkled their arrival.

She felt absurdly self-conscious as the current Mr. Atterbourne advanced, smiling, to welcome them and lead them to a table where a velvet cloth had already been spread.

'Miss Lloyd, how very good to see you again, and on such a joyous occasion.'

She murmured, 'Thank you', and sat down, aware of the ironic look Miles had flicked at her.

A flat leather case was brought and ceremoniously opened, and Chessie almost blinked at the coruscating array of stones thus revealed.

My God, she thought. Even the least of them must be worth several thousand pounds. Is Miles completely crazy?

'Now this,' Mr. Atterbourne was saying, 'is a particularly fine solitaire.'

She was all set to protest, then remembered just in time that she'd agreed to go on with this farce. So, she held out her hand in mute resignation, and allowed the ring to be slipped onto her finger.

One by one, she tried them on, solitaires, marquises, three- and five-stone bands and clusters, listening to Mr. Atterbourne murmuring about carats, and colour, and the various cuts that had been used. And she could see that they were beautiful, but they did nothing for her particu¬larly. She felt it was like gazing into an ocean of frozen tears.

'Not seen anything you like yet, darling?' Miles prompted. 'What about this one?' He was holding out a cluster of diamonds, so large and magnificent that it made Linnet's ring look puny.

She looked at him indignantly, scathing words forming on her lips, and realised that although his face was solemn, the blue eyes were dancing with unholy amusement, and challenge.

It was not funny, and she knew it. There was no aspect of her current situation that was even remotely laughable, but she could feel her mouth twitching in response, and an uninhibited giggle welling up irrepressibly inside her. And Miles joined in, his shoulders shaking.