Bond of Fate (8 page)

of his friends to join him there, and he would surely welcome her absence.

This, however, was not the case, and her request was greeted by a lift of his autocratic eyebrows as he said, 'I'd rather you stayed,' and left it at that, giving Melanie no choice in the matter.

In the lounge, Julian made the usual detour to a table slightly on its own away from the general conversation of the other guests, and made polite conversation to the distinctly uncomfortable Melanie, who listened just as politely, managing to keep her inner thoughts to herself. She wondered what the rest of the guests made of them, for they must have looked an extremely odd couple, she thought—or maybe she was imagining things, she didn't know any more, for this was a world beyond her comprehension, and she no longer felt she could cope with it. Somehow she had to.

All she could hope for now was a return to more normal surroundings back home, and maybe to be able to persuade Julian Cridell that the whole thing had been a mistake right from the beginning. She felt sure that, by now, he must have come to the same conclusion.

`Coming to Dad's party tonight?' Anna Misting, a young, lovely brunette, the daughter of a friend of Julian's, called across to them.

Melanie, confident of what Julian's answer would be, was dismayed to hear his casual, 'I don't see why not.'

`Thought you would !' replied Anna loftily, darting a quick, triumphant glance in Mrs Dalton's direction, and Melanie, well aware that Julian had made a point of keeping away from the normal festivities until now, couldn't help wondering why he had suddenly chosen to attend this particular one.

She had a nasty suspicion that this might be his way of punishing her for daring to presume on their relationship, and that he meant to show her how ill equipped she was to hold her own in such company, for she was sure that that had been the reason why he had refused earlier invitations for evening amusements, meaning, no doubt, to foster the supposition that he was content in his new wife's company, whereas in reality, Melanie would spend the evening either reading or searching out suitable material for a lesson with Celia to help her to gain good exam results, and Julian would be in the study perusing the Financial Times, and keeping up to date with the latest news from London.

A little later, on their way back to their suite, it occurred to Melanie that Julian might not be considering taking her to the party; after all, Andrew Misting was his friend, and it was his party. This somewhat cheered her, until Julian, as they entered their rooms, said casually, 'We shall be going down around ten,' halting Melanie in her tracks as she started to make for her room.

She turned round slowly to face him. 'You mean both of us?' she asked, realising a little too late how ridiculous that had sounded; he had said 'We', hadn't he?

Julian's lips twisted in exasperation. 'Of course,' he said abruptly, managing to stem his irritation at her stupidity.

`I—couldn't you go alone?' asked Melanie pleadingly. 'You could say I've got a headache, couldn't you ?'

`I shall do no such thing!' Julian exploded. 'I don't have to remind you again of the terms of your employment, do I?' he asked pithily. 'There is a little more to it than lazing in the sun.'

Melanie swallowed. Now she was being made to feel like a society drone, a hanger-on. She took a deep breath. A little more of this unfair treatment and she would hate this man, she thought grimly. 'Very well,' she replied quietly, 'I shall be ready,' and went to her room.

A glance at her watch showed that she had exactly thirty minutes' grace, and she wondered if she ought to change into another dress for the party, but recalling Julian's anger at her previous attempt to act the part, she decided to stay as she was.

The communicating door between her room and Celia's was open when Melanie got to her bedroom, and Celia called out a greeting to her, forcing Melanie to go in and see her.

She found Celia propped up in bed reading a large volume on human anatomy, and gave a grimace as she met Celia's dark eyes. 'Not quite what I'd recommend for bedtime reading,' she said.

Celia laughed. 'It's absolutely fascinating,' she replied. `Do you realise ?'

`Not now, thank you,' said Melanie hastily, seeing that the page open showed a detailed drawing of the gullet. 'I've just had dinner.'

Closing the book, Celia put it down carefully on the bedside table and turned her attention to Melanie. `You look smashing,' she said, 'and that dress is just right for you. I'll bet they stared, didn't they?' she asked.

`It wasn't exactly a hit with your father,' said Melanie drily. 'In short, he was very angry indeed.'

Celia stared at her. 'Are you sure?' she demanded. `Perhaps he was just bowled over?' she suggested helpfully.

Melanie shook her head emphatically. 'No, I was the one who was bowled over, or perhaps I should say bawled out. I got a lecture on keeping my place,' she added, then, realising that Celia was still a junior, and in her charge at that, although it was difficult to remember this with her totally adult outlook on life, she added with a grin, 'I think he's afraid that it's all gone to my head—and don't worry, I didn't tell him it had been your good idea that I have my hair cut.'

For once Celia didn't rise to the intended assurance that she had nothing to worry about, but sat with knitted brows, and then shook her head slowly. 'It's not like him at all,' she said. 'I do wish he would ease up at work. It's not as though he needs the money.'

`Perhaps it's the sun,' Melanie commented drily.

This time Celia did laugh, but her expression soon resumed its earlier doubts. 'I'll have a go at him to give it all a rest,' she said, then snuggled down in bed. "Night, Melanie,' she murmured, and was asleep before Melanie had reached her room.

The thirty minutes' grace before she was due to join Julian for the party had now been whittled down to a mere ten minutes, and Melanie wandered aimlessly around her room to while away the time. She didn't want to think too much about her changed circumstances, but of course she did. It had never once occurred to her that the man she had got to know and respect in that short three-week period could have changed to this extent. She could appreciate how difficult it was for him, but surely he should have foreseen how difficult it was going to be for her?

As she recalled the beach incident, and his anger at finding her with the children, Melanie's depression deepened. Even Celia had been puzzled by his

reaction, and if Celia was puzzled, then what chance had Melanie to reach the right conclusion?

When the hands of her watch reached the hour, Melanie left her room and went to the lounge, and was slightly surprised to see that Julian had changed out of the dark evening suit that he had worn at dinner into a white tuxedo that emphasised the tan that he had already acquired from their few days in the sun. He was, she thought absentmindedly, one of those few lucky people who tanned easily.

You could have changed,' he said abruptly, as he looked her over.

Melanie felt her hackles rise. Of all the disagreeable men ! 'I would have done, if I had known I was expected to,' she replied, letting a cold hint of her feelings creep into their association for the first time.

She saw his lips tighten as he acknowledged the truth of this bold statement, but he hadn't liked having it pointed out to him. 'I beg your pardon,' he said stiffly. 'I should have thought of that. Are you ready?'

Melanie nodded, and clutched her evening bag with fingers that trembled. He should have known how ignorant she was of these niceties, was what he had meant, she told herself, and she really couldn't see how they were going to get through the evening when for two pins she would have a blazing row with him.

There would be at least three women at that party who would go through hoops for him—Podge's mother, a rich divorcee whose pale blue eyes never attempted to hide her feelings when Julian was around, included—so why on earth had he picked on her? Melanie wondered angrily as they descended in the
splendid
hotel lift that was large enough to hold a few gilt chairs for the convenience of the older residents. Because he could squash her, that was why !

she thought grimly. She was a little Miss Nobody where he was concerned, convenient in two capacitites. One, a teacher for his daughter, and secondly as a shield from the attentions of these avaricious women. Melanie suspected that the second convenience was more important to him than the first, as it stood to reason that he could have settled for a tutor for Celia without the added complication of taking a wife. He hadn't been strictly honest about that side of the affair either, and had chosen to drag his ex-wife into the scene to make it more plausible.

By now, Melanie had completely disregarded Celia's views on the matter concerning her mother's character and determined pursuit of her ex-husband. Celia was biased, of course; she adored her father, and not surprisingly, after witnessing the way their society women friends unashamedly pursued him, she was of the opinion that no woman could resist him.

Well, this one could, she thought sourly, and if he had treated his first wife in the manner that he had recently adopted towards her, then Zara Cridell could be forgiven for taking off the way she had !

The large hotel ballroom was crowded when they entered, and a doubly miserable Melanie realised that she was going to be in trouble again very shortly, for she couldn't dance, at least not in the way the couples on the floor were dancing, for this was not a disco affair where all you had to do was look as if you were keeping in time to the music. The couples on the floor were whirling about, all following a step pattern that they knew by heart, and for a second thing, even if she had been able to dance, her sheath-like dress was not going to give her much freedom. She felt another surge of anger towards the proud man at her side for not explaining this to her. He could have told her that

there would be dancing, couldn't he? A party didn't necessarily mean dancing in Melanie's experience, limited as it was to her student days.

Her courage failed her at the door of the ballroom. `I can't dance,' she said in a stiff voice. 'You really will have to make some excuse for my absence,' she added, as she began to turn away in readiness for a flight back to her room.

`You're staying,' Julian said softly as his lean hand caught her wrist before she could complete the turn and clamped a hold that gave her no option but to stay right where she was. `I won't be doing much dancing either, if it comes to that,' he added smoothly. `Lees circulate.' He drew her hand through his arm in what must have looked like a possessive gesture, but which was, in fact, a very firm grip indeed on the wretchedly nervous Melanie.

It wasn't easy for her having to nod and smile at people as they passed down the long room towards a gathering of people near the buffet and bar section, where several tables had been placed for certain invited guests and where the host, Andrew Misting, and his daughter were holding court. At the appearance of Julian and Melanie a ragged cheer went up, making Melanie feel awful, as it must have called the whole attention of the room to their arrival. She felt Julian's casually placed hand tighten its grip on her, as if he sensed her wild urge to escape.

Two chairs were quickly placed at their disposal at their host's table, and Melanie found herself holding a glass of champagne almost before she had had time to sit down.

`My wife doesn't dance,' said Julian drily, as he accepted his glass of champagne. `You're really pushing the boat out this time, aren't you, Andrew?'

he added, with a smile, and a nod at the crowded ballroom, then lifted his glass in salute. 'All the best,' he said, and Melanie followed suit, thinking as she swallowed a sip of the awesomely expensive beverage that it was overrated.

`Decided to retire before I became an old man,' Andrew Misting said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice, and looked towards his lovely daughter who had just slipped across the room to have a word with someone. 'Anna says she doesn't see enough of me, and I guess she's right, so I've decided to play the part of the country squire.'

Melanie couldn't help wondering what Celia would have had to say to that if she had been present, for she was of the same opinion as Anna, that her father should ease up as well. As she took another sip of her champagne, she stole a look at Julian, who appeared to her to be looking thoughtful, though she really couldn't tell; she had been wrong before about him.

`You should do the same,' Andrew Misting advised Julian.

`What should Julian do?' queried Anna as she rejoined them, sitting down in a haze of soft pink gauze that floated around her.

`Retire,' her father replied.

`Oh, I'm all for that!' said Anna with enthusiasm. `Aren't you, Melanie?' she asked. 'It can't be much fun for you having to fill time in while his lordship's adding more chips to that great pile he's already made.'

Melanie swallowed, and quickly took another sip of her drink. Really, it wasn't so bad, she thought, when you got used to it. In the end she managed a rueful smile. 'I suppose it depends on the man,' she said, not daring to look at Julian. 'I mean, if he's happy in what he's doing

Anna chuckled. 'You've got her well trained, haven't you, Julian?' she commented, 'but I suppose it's early days yet. Still, you mark my words, she'll soon be thinking up ways and means to keep you at home, if I'm any judge. Oh, that's a waltz,' she glanced appealingly at Julian, who had no option but to ask her to dance with him, and to Melanie's relief they took the floor.