Bond of Fate (17 page)

This thought should have amused her, and normally it would have done, but it only depressed her further. It wasn't that she wanted Julian to act the doting lover. Heaven forbid ! But since their return from their holiday, he had seemed to move further away from her, as if his attention to her on the island had been simply a way of entertaining himself, and he must

since have congratulated himself on the way things turned out, for Melanie might well have fallen under his spell, and given in to that insidious bombardment of her will.

She took a deep breath. Thank goodness for sanity, for goodness only knew where such a step would have led them, and by now he would be cursing himself for his own lapse of sense.

Melanie settled herself on the window seat, and glanced out at the panoramic view in front of her, and beyond to the woods surrounding the property. A deep frown settled on her brow. She hadn't been strictly fair in putting the present state of affairs down to Julian, for it was she who had instigated the change in their relationship.

Start as you mean to go on had been her tenet, and right from the beginning of her life as 'Mrs Cridell', she had shown a definite preference for her own company as and when circumstances permitted. They permitted now with Celia in the paddock, and Julian, after Melanie had politely excused herself, having made off to his study to catch up on his business affairs.

As yet there had been no sign of Julian returning to work in the City, but Melanie felt that it was only a matter of time before he would be back to his old routine; he was too immersed in the world of finance to stay away for long. Melanie was annoyed that this hoped-for solution to one of her problems still showed no sign of taking place by the time a fortnight had elapsed since their return, and apart from spending the morning in his study, he began to look ominously as if he had taken Andrew Misting's advice on early retirement.

As long as Celia was still at home—the school term

did not start until September—Melanie managed to arrange things that she didn't have to spend much time in Julian's company, slipping away to her own quarters When Celia chose to go down to the paddock in the afternoon, the mornings being spent in the old nursery that now did duty as a schoolroom.

If Julian was backsliding where work was concerned, so was Melanie, over that all-important letter to her aunt.

She had made several attempts to write to her, but had always landed up with a pile of unfinished letters in her waste basket. In her inner heart she hoped that some miracle would relieve her of the necessity of involving her aunt in this uncommendable state of affairs.

By the end of three weeks, Melanie felt that things simply could not go on as they were. Julian's good nature seemed to have deserted him, much to Celia's surprise, and Melanie suspected that he was now regretting the whole situation, but shied from actually discussing this with him, as he seemed more unapproachable as time went on. All she could do was to wait until he decided that enough was enough, and came to the sensible conclusion that her presence was no longer required at Oaklands.

The threatened dinner party was due to take place at the end of the week, and Melanie's depression deepened at the very thought. It would be a case of `Hello' and 'Goodbye' as far as her presence among the county élite was concerned, and she couldn't understand why Julian was going ahead with it. It would be more sensible to delay such a gathering until after she had made her departure, surely? If he hadn't bothered to entertain his neighbours for several years, a little longer wouldn't hurt.

It was at this point that, unfortunately for Melanie, she recalled that the Mistings would be present, and she blinked at the realisation that the last time she had seen them she was supposed to be having a baby! She glanced down at her slender figure—well, one look and that myth would be dispelled. She sincerely hoped that neither of them would comment on the fact; it had been bad enough on the island, but should it leak out to the local gentry—Melanie drew in a swift breath: Julian would be absolutely furious. The only thing to do was to get Anna on her own, and say something about a false alarm.

By the time she went down to lunch with Celia the following day, Melanie's nerves were strung to breaking point.

There was a pile of letters beside Julian's plate that had been opened, as the mail had come that morning, but he brought the letters in for Melanie and Celia's perusal, for they were acceptances for the dinner party. Celia, idly going through them, suddenly exclaimed, 'Leonora's back ?' with such a look of pleasure that even Melanie's deep absorption in her troubles was put aside for a moment.

`She will be, by tomorrow,' replied Julian, his eyes resting thoughtfully on his daughter.

Celia turned impulsively to Melanie. 'You'll love Leonora,' she said. 'The trouble is, she spends such a lot of time abroad. It's her job, you see; she's an authority on art, and she's always being asked to value someone's old painting that's been found in their attic.'

Melanie nodded. 'It must be an interesting job,' she said.

`Not so interesting when it entails so much travel,' Julian said drily. 'But I rather gather from what she
says in her letter that she's thinking of staying put for a while.'

Celia's smile widened. `So we'll be able to visit her, won't we, Dad?' she said happily. 'I'm sure she'll become good friends with Melanie.'

Julian's grey eyes rested on Melanie as he said quietly, 'Well, we'll have to see how it goes, won't we?'

She was startled by the tone of his voice. It was as if he was giving her an ultimatum—about what, she couldn't think, but what he probably meant was if Melanie was around that long!

Celia took her own interpretation. 'Of course they'll get on !' she replied firmly.

In the schoolroom the following morning, it appeared that Celia's mind was not on work, but on Leonora Talbot's arrival back from her travels.

Melanie knew that she ought to
discourage
this deviation from work on her pupil's part, but her curiosity was aroused. Whoever this Leonora was, it was plain that Celia was very fond of her, and Celia did not give her affection lightly, so although she didn't exactly encourage her to enlarge on the subject, she didn't
discourage
her either.

`Do you remember that big white villa-looking place we pass before we turn up our drive?' Celia asked suddenly. 'Well, that's where Leonora lives. We can get through the wood at the end of the garden to it,' she added. 'Dad used to send me over there when he knew that Mother was on her way, to get me out of the firing line,' she added.

In her mind's eye she conjured up an 'Auntie'-like personality, with a no-nonsense attitude, and who probably wore spectacles and good tweeds, and brogues, and who must be nearing retirement age from what Julian had said. In spite of Celia's musings

on a future happy relationship between them, Melanie doubted this; she could hardly see herself being accepted as a suitable wife for Julian Cridell. Perhaps that had been what Julian had meant by that cryptic statement of his.

`We could go over there later,' Celia said. 'She's probably home by now.'

'I don't think that's a very good idea,' said Melanie firmly. `She'll be tired, Celia, especially if she's just come back from abroad. I'd give her a few days to settle in first. You'll see her at the dinner party tomorrow evening, won't you?' she added.

Celia pulled a face. `Yes, but only for a few minutes. You know what Dad's like and how strict he is, and he won't let me stay up for that.'

`Well, there's always the next day,' Melanie pointed out reasonably. If she's retiring now, you'll have plenty of opportunity to see her.'

Celia gave Melanie an odd look, her head, framed by its bright halo of golden hair, held on one side. `You talk as if Leonora were old,' she said. 'She's only a few years older than you,' she added, with a mischievous look.

Melanie raised her brows at this. `I'm only going by what your father said about her thinking of giving up her job,' she replied calmly, though feeling a spurt of surprise at Celia's news.

Celia shrugged. 'Oh, that. Well, she doesn't really need to work, but she's not the sort to sit around doing nothing. She learnt all about antiques from her father, who was also an expert on the subject.'

`Oh,' was all Melanie could reply.

Celia grinned at her. 'So, as I said, you'll get on with her. You are very like her, you know,' she added seriously.

Melanie blinked. 'In what way?' she demanded.

Celia took a while to sort out her thoughts. `Well ' she began. 'I don't mean in looks,' she added hastily. 'She's not at all the sort of person her looks suggest.' She frowned, and then shrugged. `You'll see what I mean when you meet her,' she ended, finally giving up the struggle.

Melanie was back to the tweeds and brogues impression. The subject was then closed, and the school work started.

The dinner party consisted of nine guests plus Melanie and Julian, and Melanie found herself consigned to stand beside Julian as they welcomed their guests, and having to withstand the polite and sometimes downright curious stares of Julian's neighbours.

Her experience in the Bahamas should have eased this embarrassing task, but to her way of thinking, this was worse, for these people were not casual holiday-making friends of Julian's, but were on their home ground, fixed and immobile, as it were, and again, she felt a stab of resentment at Julian for dragging them into the charade.

Andrew Misting and Anna were the first to arrive, Anna, as usual, looking as if she had just stepped off the cover of Vogue, in a salmon pink off-the-shoulder dress, that was somewhere in the three-figure price bracket. As Melanie welcomed her, it crossed her mind that she wouldn't be the only one to receive extra attention that evening, for, like herself, Anna was a newcomer to the scene, and for this Melanie was grateful.

Melanie's dress of royal blue velvet, with a small pearl necklet at her throat as her only adornment, gave her a quiet authority that she was entirely unaware of,

but Julian's quick approving nod at her appearance earlier had shown her that he was pleased with her choice.

As each of the guests were introduced, Melanie tried hard to recall their names, Colonel and Mrs Hardwick she didn't think she would have any trouble in identifying. The Colonel was a big, bluff, red-faced man, who at first sighting seemed to bully his small, tired-looking wife. Then there was a Mr and Mrs Cornwall, both plump and prosperous-looking, Mr Cornwall being someone in the City, and a Mr Astley and his son, John, with apologies on behalf of his wife who was indisposed and unable to attend.

That left only one guest to arrive, Leonora Talbot, and Melanie had been given strict instructions by Celia to tell her that they would be calling on her the next morning, if that was all right.

Melanie was buttonholed by Anna as soon as the guests assembled in the drawing-room and were fortified with glasses of sherry. Julian was in conversation with her father and Mr Cornwall, with Mrs Cornwall and Mrs Hardwick making a beeline for Mr Astley, anxious to enquire about his wife's health, and on the fringe of the circle, John Astley, quite plainly hoping for a better acquaintance with Anna. His rather sanguine features had showed an eager, expectant look as soon as he had set eyes on her, and what he obviously thought was going to be a very dull dinner party had turned into an occasion.

Anna's polite enquiry about Melanie's health did not at first ring a bell, and when it did, she had to quickly transfer her glance away from Anna under the pretext of placing her glass down on one of the occasional tables, and giving herself time to answer her query. `Oh, I'm fine, thank you,' she said evenly,

`I'm afraid it was a false alarm,' and left it at that, her glance going over to Julian, in the middle of a business discussion, one part of her seeing how handsome he looked in his dark dinner suit, and the other part hoping fervently that Andrew Misting didn't take a page out of Anna's book ! She hated to think what Julian's reaction would be should he casually enquire 'When's the great day?' or something!

`Oh, dear, I'm sorry,' Anna exclaimed. 'Still, you've plenty of time, haven't you?' and to Melanie's relief she changed the subject, and told her about the property her father had bought. It's what I've always thought a country property should be,' she said enthusiastically. 'I never thought Dad would settle down, but he's proved me wrong. He's like a boy with a sandcastle, having plans drawn up for alterations.'

At this precise moment Leonora Talbot joined the party; the first Melanie knew of her arrival was Anna's low, `Wow!' as her eyes went to the door, and Melanie turned to see what had caused such an exclamation.

Her eyes widened as they surveyed the vision—one could only call it a vision—of the woman who was now walking towards Julian, one beautifully tanned arm with long shapely fingers extended towards her host, her tan accentuated by the white Grecian-style dress with gold figuring at the collar, and as Anna's dress was in the three-figure bracket, Leonora Talbot's must have been in the four.

Melanie's thoughts were in a whirl as she stared at the woman, and she almost gave an hysterical chuckle as she recalled her previous thoughts about Leonora. This woman wouldn't be seen dead in tweeds and brogues!