A High Price to Pay (14 page)

least of my problems.'

'Oh.' He stared straight ahead of him through the windscreen. 'I

thought you'd still be too bemused by newly-wedded bliss to have

any problems.'

There was an edge to his voice, and Alison shifted uncomfortably in

her seat. It was the first time she had encountered Simon since her

marriage, and her gratitude for his offer of help had made her forget

momentarily the awkwardness which had ensued when she had put in

her notice at work and told him she was going to marry Nicholas

Bristow.

She had no idea whether Simon had ever really entertained any

serious intentions towards her himself, but it was clear her

announcement had been a blow to his masculine pride if nothing else,

and he had reacted with covert hostility, casting a cloud over her final

days at the office.

She said lightly, 'I have a houseful of guests about to descend, and I'm

running late, that's all. Not really so dire.'

'No.' He was silent for a moment, then he said, 'You're looking very

well, Ally. Your tan suits you.'

'I think what's left of it is turning to rust,' she said drily. 'How's the

property market?'

'Moving again. By the way, the Andersons are buying Stanton

Grange, just as you predicted.'

Alison gave a gurgle of laughter. 'I knew she couldn't resist that

jacuzzi! She kept going back to have another peep at it.'

'Yes.' He paused again. 'I haven't found a replacement for you yet,

Alison. We miss you at the office, and that's a fact. I suppose you

wouldn't consider coming back?'

She was genuinely taken aback. It was the last thing she had

expected.

She said slowly, 'I'd have to give that some thought, Simon. And

discuss it with Nick, of course,' she added.

'Take all the time you need,' said Simon, overtaking a van. 'It

occurred to me that as your husband's so obviously a busy man, you

might find yourself with a lot of leisure on your hands.'

Alison sat very still. So Nick's infrequent appearances had already

been noted and discussed, she thought wretchedly. Well, what else

could she expect in such a small community?

She shrugged, hoping for nonchalance. 'I'm not really a lady of

leisure, you know. And I know Nick has plans to do a lot of

entertaining in the coming weeks. I could have my hands full.'

'Well, as I say, think about it,' he said pleasantly. For the remainder of

the journey they talked on safe neutral topics like the changeable

weather, and the new production being planned by the local operatic

society.

The kind of things they'd always talked about, Alison thought, which

perhaps explained why being with Simon had never filled her with

the kind of unnamed longings that simply hearing Nick's voice on the

phone could inspire.

Not that she was proud of that, she assured herself flatly. In fact, she

was deeply, hotly ashamed of her own weakness. Life would have

been so much easier, so much more acceptable if she'd married

someone like Simon. He might never have set her on fire, but she

would not have experienced this agonising, gnawing emptiness

either.

Arrived back at Ladymead, she thanked him rather stiltedly for his

help, promised she would be in touch, and paused at the door to wave

politely and smile as he drove away. Then with a small sigh, she

turned and walked into the house.

'Where have you been?' Nick's sharp question fell across her

consciousness like a whiplash, and she started visibly as she looked

up and saw him coming downstairs towards her.

'Oh,' she said lamely, her heart sinking. 'You're—back.'

'Naturally,' he returned grimly. 'We do have guests this evening, in

case you'd forgotten,' he added bitingly.

'Of course I haven't forgotten. Everything's ready for them.' Or she

hoped it was, she thought, surreptitiously crossing her fingers in the

folds of her skirt.

His lip curled. 'Does that include yourself?'

For the moment, she'd forgotten her ruined hair. She touched it

nervously. 'I—I got caught in the storm, I'm afraid.'

'So I see,' he said coldly. 'Don't you ever listen to weather forecasts?

Or was your reason for going into town so overwhelming that it

couldn't be put off?'

She could hardly say she'd been to the hairdresser, looking as she did.

She bit her lip. 'I had one or two things to do—shopping and so on.'

'Does the "so on" include disposing of your car?' he demanded. 'You

certainly didn't return in it.'

Alison sighed. 'It's still in the High Street car park. The rain must have

got into the electrics, because it wouldn't start. It's happened before.'

'Has it really? Then I shall take steps to ensure it doesn't happen

again.' He walked across the hall and went into the dining room.

Alison set down her shopping and went after him. He was standing

staring critically at the table.

'I hope you like the lace mats. They're rather old,' she said, hurrying

her words a little. 'And I did the flowers myself.'

She sounded like a child waiting for a word of praise, she thought

with self-derision.

'You—you did say you'd see to the wines,' she pounded on into the

silence.

'Yes, I did.' Nick gave a faint nod. 'Everything seems satisfactory. I

presume there was no difficulty with Mrs Horner over waiting at

table?'

'Oh, no, she's quite used to it.' She hesitated. 'But if it's going to be a

regular occurrence, I might need alternative help.'

'Then you'd better find it.' He moved to the door. 'I suppose you've

checked the drawing room?'

'Hardly,' she protested. 'I've only just got back.'

'I'm aware of that,' he said icily. 'Perhaps it's time you gave some

thought to your priorities. Understand this, Alison, I expect your

duties here to take precedence over—gallivanting into town to meet

your friends.'

'But I didn't!' she protested, stung by the injustice of it.

His brows rose. 'You hardly came back by taxi,' he uttered flatly.

Of course, she thought, his room was at the front of the house, and he

had seen her arrive with Simon.

She said, 'That was a coincidence. Simon just happened to be there

when I was trying to start the car.'

'Very convenient,' Nick drawled. 'But I really think I shall have to

supply you with a more reliable vehicle, my sweet. I can't have my

wife stranded in car parks, dependent on passing knights errant.

Especially when the experience leaves her looking so dishevelled,' he

added sarcastically. 'Perhaps you'd like to go and make yourself

presentable—after you've fulfilled your duties down here, of course.'

Alison drew a deep breath of disbelief, then lifted her hand in a

parody of a salute. 'Yes—sir,' she said. 'Will that be all, sir?'

His eyes narrowed. 'Provoke me again, Alison, and it will be far from

all. You may not be prepared to be my wife, but you'll damned well

give your undivided attention to being my housekeeper. Is that clearly

understood?'

She said dully, 'Perfectly. In future, I'll do my best to live up to your

rather exacting standards.'

She gave the drawing room a brief formal inspection, then went

upstairs to her mother's suite.

Mrs Mortimer greeted her with a trace of fretfulness. 'What a time

you've been, darling! I thought I heard the car ages ago. Did you get

my wool? I've been waiting for it.'

An irritable reply hovered on Alison's lips. Her mother's tapestry

work proceeded by fits and starts, and always had, neglected

sometimes for weeks on end. But she controlled herself. 'I did the best

I could,' she returned temperately. 'Mrs Marsden at the shop

suggested it might be better in future to buy enough of each shade to

complete the design.'

Mrs Mortimer sniffed. 'Well, of course, she would say so. In that way

she sells more wool. I usually have skeins left over. And did they

have the new Mary Cornell at the library?'

'I'm afraid not. In fact, there's a waiting list for it, so I put your name

down. They'll send a card when it's available.'

Her mother's mouth tightened. 'A waiting list!' she commented rather

shrilly. 'Things have certainly changed! In Mrs Harris's day, new

books were always put on one side for me.'

'Which was hardly fair to the other borrowers,' Alison pointed out

drily. 'I brought you these instead.'

Mrs Mortimer pursed her lips discontentedly. 'I suppose they'll have

to do,' she said grudgingly. 'I don't care for Ellen Smart any

more—her last two were far too Americanised.' She put the books to

one side. 'And did you think of the peppermint creams?'

Alison's head was beginning to ache. 'Peppermint creams? But you

never mentioned…'

'But you know I always have a box of the special Hargraves ones at

the weekend,' Mrs Mortimer said crossly. 'You really are getting

rather thoughtless, darling! Surely I don't have to think of everything

for myself?'

'It might be better if you did,' Alison countered wearily. 'Then I might

have more time to spend on my responsibilities here.'

'I should think you could manage that with one hand tied behind your

back,' Mrs Mortimer said acidly. 'It's hardly new to you, after all.

When your poor father was alive, you coped perfectly well.'

'I coped, certainly,' Alison agreed. 'But things are very different now.'

'They seem to be, indeed.' Mrs Mortimer's hand went up and fiddled

with her pearls. 'Did I hear Nicholas return some time ago?'

'Probably,' Alison said evenly. 'Did you want to speak to him about

something?'

'Oh, no,' Mrs Mortimer disclaimed hurriedly. 'It's just that—we seem

to see so little of him.' She gave Alison a sharp look. 'I hope he's not

neglecting you.'

'On the contrary,' Alison returned ironically, 'he couldn't be more

attentive.'

It had amazed and infuriated her on her return from the honeymoon to

discover that her mother had apparently decided to totally disregard

the real reasons for the marriage, and behave as if Nicholas was her

ideal choice as a son-in- law.

Now Mrs Mortimer lifted a restive shoulder. 'Well, if you say so,

darling.' She shook her head. 'Although there are times when it's

small wonder to me that he does stay away so much. Have you seen

yourself lately? You look like something the cat dragged in. I thought

you were going to have your hair done for the party this evening.'

'It must have slipped my mind,' Alison said tiredly. if you'll excuse

me now, I'll go and start on the salvage job.'

'I think you should.' Her mother nodded her affirmation as she

reached for the pile of library books. 'After all, darling, if you let

yourself go like this, you can hardly hope to hold the attention of an

attractive man like Nicholas.'

'Then it's fortunate I have no such expectation,' Alison said more

sharply than she intended. She saw an affronted expression cross her

mother's face, and sighed inwardly. 'I'm sorry, Mother—I suppose

I'm a little het up about tonight. Will you come down about half past

seven?'

'Of course,' Mrs Mortimer said rather coldly. 'I must say, Alison, I

hoped marriage would cure you of this ridiculous shyness, but it

seems, if anything, to be worse. Do put some colour on your face,

dear. You look like a ghost!'

The ghost of something the cat dragged in, Alison thought, as she

made her way to her bedroom, and didn't know whether to giggle or

burst into tears.

She had hung her new dress on the outside of the fitted wardrobe

before she went out, but the sight of it gave her no pleasure, rather

serving to fuel her simmering resentment. It was far too glamorous

for a mere housekeeper, she thought bitterly, ramming it back on the

rail among the other dresses. She would wear something more suited

to her station, she decided stormily, scanning along the hanging rail,

and she knew precisely what, as well.

It had been an attempt at 'the little black dress' which her mother had

always claimed was an indispensable adjunct of every woman's

wardrobe, only it had never quite worked. Alison had bought it in a

hurry, thinking it might do, but it never had. Its severe lines did

nothing for her slenderness, and she had always felt swamped and

dowdy in it. As she pulled the dress off its hanger, she became aware

of something else, beneath it on the floor of the wardrobe. A box . ..

Of course, she thought, impatient with herself; it was the box of

exquisite undies Aunt Beth had given her. She took off the lid and