The Youngest Bridesmaid (10 page)

BOOK: The Youngest Bridesmaid
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I know so little about you, Piers—tell me things.


What do you want to know?


Tell
me about the island,

she said, sensing that the island was in some curious fashion part of himself.


Rune?


That where we

re going, isn

t it? One of the nurses told me.


One of the nurses?

There was both puzzlement and displeasure in his voice and she could already feel the familiar withdrawal in him.


She took it for granted, naturally, that I knew where my honeymoon was to be spent,

she replied demurely, but she could no longer, it appeared, provoke him to amused retaliation, and when he next spoke it was with rather formal politeness.


I

m sorry if you find my change of plans dull,

he said,

but I didn

t imagine you and Melissa would share the same tastes when it came to—er—honeymoons.

It was the first time he had deliberately mentioned Melissa, and it seemed to Lou to bring her into the room, pointing, a jeering ghost, at the dim little cousin who wore her clothes and her wedding ring and imagined she could take her place. Piers, of course, must be regretting his hasty act of bravado; no wonder he had decided that it was better to return at once to the island, rather than waste time
...
and money on the lavish and protracted honeymoon he had planned for somebody else. And that, too, was an act of defiance, for he and Melissa had quarrelled about the island.

S
he got to her feet and started to unzip her dress. Someone, after all, had to make the first move to bring this difficult day to its logical climax, and she did not know how to make it clear to Piers that although she could not aspire to Melissa

s skill in handling such matters, she was a willing and ready pupil.


What a ridiculous word honeymoon is,

she said brightly, struggling rather unsuccessfully with the zip which seemed out of reach after a certain distance.


Yes, it is rather,

he agreed, and the amusement was back in his voice as he very expertly completed the operation for her.

I wonder how many women
...
she began thinking to herself, and blushed as she read in his eyes that he was quite aware of her thoughts. He wandered into the bedroom, flicked the elaborate nightgown laid out on the bed with an inquisitive finger, then gathered up his own pyjamas and disappeared into the dressing room.

Lou undressed with speed, spending little time with Melissa

s creams and lotions because she had never acquired the habit of expensive cosmetics. Every so often her wedding ring fell off as it had done throughout the evening; it would be safer, she thought, to leave it on the dressing table than lose it in the bed. She pulled on Melissa

s nightdress, the last reminder of the day of her lost identity, and got into bed.

She seemed to wait a long time for Piers. He was, she supposed uneasily, used to women who took hours making themselves alluring for him;
whereas she had not thought to follow other than her nightly routine of soap and water and a good hair brushing. But even as she was preparing to make a hurried dart for her lipstick and a dab of scent, he came into the room and stood there looking down at her.


I was—I was just going to put on some scent,

she said rather idiotically, and his smile had the old touch of tenderness as he observed her anxious face. She was looking like a good little girl, he thought, clean and brushed for the night, waiting to be kissed and tucked up.


Were you, indeed?

he said.

Well, there

s always tomorrow.


T—tomorrow?


To try out the scent. What are you staring at? Does the not very glamorous sticking plaster spoil your romantic illusions?


No. It makes you look rather like a pirate, as a matter of fact—that very gorgeous dressing gown and the cri
m
son scarf tucked in.


A shade ostentatious, you think?


Oh, no, not at all. A little flamboyance suits your raffish air.


Have I a raffish air?


You know quite well you have. I think you rather trade on it.


This,

he remarked, sitting down on the bed,

is rather a curious turn for the conversation to take, don

t you think? One doesn

t expect one

s newly wedded wife to take one to task so soon.

Didn

t he understand, she thought, that she was talking nonsense to cover her nervousness? Piers understood very well, but he was hiding more than nervousness himself; he was trying to smother an unaccountable sense of guilt that by involving this untried child in his own affairs he was taking a mean advantage.


I

m sorry,

she said, twisting the sheet unhappily in her thin, ringless fingers, and in spite of himself his irritation returned, together with a renewed throbbing in his head.


Don

t be so naive, I was only joking,

he said sharply.

Where

s your wedding ring?


It kept dropping off, so I left it on the dressing table,

she said.

It was Melissa

s, wasn

t it?


Yes, it was Melissa

s. I must get you another.

He spoke with indifference, and she knew she had been wrong to remind him of Melissa. For all Cousin Blanche

s assertion that the engagement had been one of mutual convenience rather than something deeper, it could not be pleasant, she thought, to picture the bride of your choice enjoying your privileges with another man. She could not tell him this but, mistakenly, she tried to make him understand, her own difficulties.


You see,

she said,

everything I have with me is Melissa

s. I—I feel like a—an understudy. I

m not what you wanted and I

m not me any more ... can

t you understand, Piers?


I understand perfectly,

he replied, getting to his feet.

It wasn

t a fair exchange, was it—the dross for the gold, the lioness for the lamb?


I don

t understand you,

she faltered.

I wanted ... I was willing ... I
am
willing
...


Of course you are, my poor innocent, but if you will
e
xcuse my lack of ardour on such an occasion, I

ll go to my bed,

he said, adding as her eyes slid to the empty place beside her
.

Next door. That
crack on the head was convenient for you, after all, wasn

t it, my sweet? Goodnight. God bless.


Take care of yourself,

Lou answered as he bent and kissed her, because it was the familiar tag which sped any departing guest, then as their dividing door closed behind her, she turned her lace into the pillow and wept for her own inadequacy.

 

 

CHAPTER
FOUR

They
arrived at their destination on the following evening. Piers had kept his appointment with the
hospital in the morning, but since he had been pronounced fit to drive, he had seen no reason to linger for another day in Lexiter.

Lou, who had slept badly, found him a morose travelling companion. Only when they reached the ragged beginnings of the Cornish coast did he seem to become aware of her, pointing out this and that landmark in the gathering dusk, manoeuvring the car with skill but alarming speed through high-banked lanes which, to her unaccustomed eyes, looked too narrow to accommodate one vehicle, let alone another coming from the opposite direction.

“What happens if we meet something?” she asked.

“Someone has to back
up
. Haven’t you noticed the bays cut in the banks?”

“No, I hadn’t. Oh, yes, I see—there’s one. How twisty the road is. When will we see the
sea?”

“In a little while. Haven’t you been to Cornwall before?”

He seemed pleased when she told him she hadn

t, and she thought there was
al
together a new warmth in his voice as he answered
h
er questions, as if he
w
ere approaching a secret treasure of his own, and she remembered her old impression that the island was, for him, both an escape and a refuge.


Tell me about Rune
,

she said, but his answer lacked encouragement, or perhaps he was simply reluctant to share his own delight in the island.

You probably won

t care for Rune,

he replied with a certain austerity.

It

s a very small island, offering no amusements one can

t make for oneself.


Such as?


Fishing, sailing, bird-watching for anyone interested. At this time of the year, the weather becomes
rough, and Rune can be cut off from the mainland by storms. The winter can be long and harsh.


Are we going to spend the winter there?

She asked the questi
o
n in all good faith, but he shot her a swift look as if he detected a demure amusement in her.


How would you react if I answered yes?

he replied
.

You don

t, perhaps, take my island kingdom very seriously.


I haven

t,

she returned politely,

had time to
think about it. I didn

t, after all, know where we were going when we started out.


Neither you did. Are you feeling I

ve cheated you out of the conventional honeymoon—Paris, bright lights, luxury hotels?

There was a cynical bite to his voice as if he rather enjoyed the implication that his change of bride had automatically brought about a change in his plans. Melissa would never have consented to spend one night of her honeymoon on an island cut off from civilization, thought Lou, but Melissa, of course, had been consulted in the proper manner.


Well, are you?

Piers asked impatiently, as occupied with her own thoughts, she made no reply.


You can

t feel cheated out of something you never expected,

she said then, and he gave a slight smile.


True,

he replied rather dryly, a
n
d she reflected that he might well be thinking
that this also could apply to hims
e
lf.

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