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Authors: Marjorie Moore

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She removed her stiff print frock and slowly and carefully selected her clothes for the evening. While she smoothed out the folds of her best dinner-frock, Noel

s words kept recurring to her:

I believe I understand better than you think.

Could there be any truth in these words? Was she heading the same way as the others—falling under the spell of Sir Richard

s personality?

Mary paused, and stared for a moment unseeingly before her. She didn

t know, she didn

t care, even if Sir Richard was powerless to help her. She was unconsciously looking forward to their evening together, and found herself dressing with more
c
are and consideration than she had exercised for months.

 

CHAPTER
TWELVE

Mary stepped off the bus
as it drew up at the
corner
of Piccadilly Circus and, standing on the kerb, awaited her opportunity to cross. Then she made her way along Shaftesbury Avenue towards her rendezvous.

The sight of the restaurant, as well as the image of the man awaiting her there, inspired her with fresh courage, and with quickened steps she entered the doorway as the hands of the clock pointed to eight. She had hardly extricated herself from the revolving door when Sir Richard advanced towards her with outstretched hand, and, after greeting her, led her to a corner of the entrance lounge, where chromium chairs, upholstered in jade green, stood before round glass tables.

Mary had never seen her host in a dinner-jacket before, and she was aware that the broad expanse of white shirt-front served to empha
s
ize his square shoulders, and the height of his slim figure. He certainly was handsome; she admitted the fact with reluctance; yet his appearance was as nothing compared with his extraordinary charm.


So you did expect me?

The words were out almost before Mary realized she had spoken them.

A slow smile lightened her companion

s face.

Good heavens, didn

t you think I would? I asked you to come, didn

t I?


That

s nothing! You had no reason to expect that I should accept,

Mary countered, while her eyes challenged him provocatively.

I had nothing better to do, so I thought
I
might as well come along,

she added with an assumption of indifference.


Really
...
then why did you put off Mayton?

There was an impish twinkle in Sir Richard

s eye as he asked the question.

Mary was completely nonplussed.

How on earth did you know that?

she faltered.


I happened to phone Mayton on a professional matter. He mentioned something about

taking good care of Miss Grant tonight.

Naturally I asked him how he was aware that you were honouring me, and well ... he explained.


I see
...
Supposing I did put him off in order to meet you, that doesn

t prove that I prefer your company. I did it because I didn

t want to keep you waiting here indefinitely; that

s all,

Mary murmured with as much nonchalance as she could muster.


Very thoughtful.

Sir Richard

s smile was teasing.

You could have telephoned to let me know you were otherwise engaged.


I suppose I could.

Mary was no longer able to stand out against her companion

s good-natured chaffing.

I didn

t phone you; I didn

t try to get out of coming; so there you are! Now you can think what you like,

she ended, laughing.


What about a drink? That seems to me more important at the moment.

He beckoned a white-jacketed waiter.

What will you have, Mary?


A Bronx, please.

When the drinks were set before them, Sir Richard spoke again.

It seems to have turned fine. I wonder if you

d like to run out to the Blue Lagoon for dinner? It

s very nice there on a fine evening.


I

d love to!

Mary exclaimed with delight.

I

ve never been again since that night Noel took me, and
...”

She broke off in confusion.


Yes, and I was kind enough I to give you a lift, and you slanged me all the way home!

Sir Richard concluded her sentence.

You left me with a feeling of hurt dignity and ... a hat!

His expression became serious.

The
beginning of all your troubles, and, unfortunately, all my fault.

Mary leaned impulsively towards her companion.

Please don

t say that. You asked me once to try to forget it. I said I never could, but I was wrong. I have, completely.

She hardly realized what she had said, and, even when she understood the import of her words, she had no desire to unsay them. Although she still suffered the result of this man

s action, she knew now that the hurt had never been intended, and the result was, to him, in some indefinable way, as distressing as to her.


I am glad you said that, and more grateful that I can ever say. You

re a forgiving soul, Mary.

There was deep feeling in Sir Richard

s words.

Now, finish up that drink and come along. If we

re dining out of town we haven

t any time to spare,

he informed her, with an abrupt change of tone.

They were soon comfortably settled in Sir Richard

s car, the familiar car Mary remembered so well, and travelling smoothly towards the open country.


Sure you

re warm enough?

Sir Richard enquired solicitously.

Not quite so warm tonight as it was last time you were there. June, wasn

t it?

Without awaiting a reply, he continued speaking:

But I believe it will be fine enough for dining on the terrace; I hope so; it

s really the attraction of the place.


Yes, I hope so too.

Mary pointed through the window of the car.

Look at that gorgeous moon; it

s the harvest moon, isn

t it?


Yes, I believe so. I think it was a good plan to come out here so long as you haven

t got to get back too early.

He looked at his companion enquiringly.


No, I

ve a late pass. A rare and treasured privilege! One can get them for special occasions.


Then I

ve messed up a really special

do

with Mayton?

There was genuine concern in Sir Richard

s voice.

Mary started. Heaven! she

d forgotten every word about Noel; she hadn

t once given him a thought, and, after all, he should have been her escort for that evening! And yet she didn

t regret her change of plans one bit.


No, not really, I can always see Noel. We

re very old friends. He won

t mind; besides, I

ll tell you a secret.

Mary p
u
t a finger to her lips.

Mind you, it

s a real secret; you mustn

t tell a soul.

Sir Richard nodded his head.

I won

t tell. I promise.


I

m trying my hand at matchmaking!

Mary turned confidently to her companion.

Noel has an urge to take unto himself a wife; he is a perfect dear, and will make a marvellous husband. Joan—that

s my great friend at St Jude

s—
i
s, incidentally, an admirer of his! I

m trying to lead Noel to her, so the less he sees of me the better
.
See?


Well,
I
suppose I do,

Sir Richard replied a trifle doubtfully.

I imagined Mayton was rather keen on you
...
Don

t you care for him?

There was an air of suppressed eagerness in the question which, for a moment, puzzled Mary. Surely her relationship with Noel couldn

t really be a matter of interest to her companion? She looked at him again, but his expression told her nothing. No doubt she had made a mistake, and without further thought, she dismissed the matter from her mind.


Not in that way. I like Noel awfully—as a friend. He did imagine himself in love with me once, but he wasn

t really. I think he

ll realize that himself soon, and then my pla
n
s will all work out splendidly.

She turned a pair of laughing eyes to Sir Richard.

You see, the best part of all is
...”
Mary stopped short, and a warm flush mounted her cheeks.


Go on
...
what were you going to say? The best part of all is that he thinks you

re in love with me,

Sir Richard finished, while the eyes which questioned hers shone with a curious intensity.


Whoever told you that?

Mary exclaimed in amazement.


Well,
you
started to tell me, and my own imagination supplied
the
rest. At least, not entirely,

Sir Richard amended.

You see, the way Mayton referred to our rendezvous this evening rather puzzled me at the time; now I have suddenly seen what he meant.


Oh!

Mary turned away to hide her confusion. How awful it was! She hadn

t minded Noel getting the wrong idea about things—in fact, it had suited her plans excellently—but that he should inadvertently convey that idea to Sir Richard
...
well, that was monstrous!

Mary was grateful for the diversion that their arrival at their destination caused. The evening was, as they had predicted, fine and warm, and they were able to take one of the tables invitingly set out on the terrace.


I love this place.

Mary looked across the table at her companion.

I

m so glad you thought of bringing me here. I

ve always wanted to come again. I

ve meant to, but somehow I

ve never done it. There is something about this garden that is so peaceful; so, so
...”
Mary paused in an effort to find the right words.

I really can

t describe it, but it makes me feel sort of happy inside!

she ended laughingly.


I know exactly what you mean; I think a beautiful garden has the same effect upon one, particularly when most of our lives are spent among pavements and chimneypots.

A glowing sense of contentment gradually encompassed Mary, and it seemed as if it were once again that June night, and that she was still with Noel. She could in imagination hear his voice; almost recall his words as he had offered her his love
...
love, that for one enchanted moment she had almost persuaded herself that she returned. Tonight somehow was different, yet the beauty of nature again held her in its spell; but now she could yield herself up to that beauty, intermingle with its enthralling magic. She wondered wherein lay the difference, yet, even as she wondered, she knew the answer. Tonight
she
also loved; her soul cried out the truth; she loved Richard, as she had never believed it possible to care for anyone, and for the first time she realized the full import of that word. That night, months ago, Noel had offered her his heart, but now her companion had no such feelings towards her, neither did he know that he had stirred such depths of emotion that, for a moment, she feared that he must surely read her secret in her trembling lips.


Sure you are warm enough, Mary?

Sir Richard enquired anxiously.

You loo
k
so pale; would you rather go in?


No, thanks. I

m quite all right,

Mary insisted. She was surprised at her own composure, and at the steadiness of her voice. Surely every word must betray the emotion which gripped her.


You

ll have coffee, won

t you?

Sir Richard asked when they had finished dinner, but it was not until the cups were placed before them, and the coffee poured out, that Sir Richard spoke again.

Mary, we haven

t yet discussed the matter which made me insist upon your seeing me this evening.

He paused.

You know I wanted to ask you how you were managing at hospital, and whether there was any way in which I can help,

he reminded her gently.

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