Marigold Chain (40 page)

So why, since
she did not even seem to regard him as a man, let alone as a
potential lover, had she never treated him as she did Danny?
Because, came back the uncompromising reply, you never gave her the
chance – any more than you treated her as a woman. So what you got
was precisely what you asked for. Except once; on the Falcon
Stairs, when you thought you only wanted a body and she offered you
the moon in a kiss.

A ray of
light; the only one.
What is it, Alex?
Won’t she have you?
Trust Sarah to find the thing that
could really hurt – but she was wrong. She had to be wrong for
there was the kiss to prove it. Chloë might not love him but she
had undoubtedly responded to him in a way which suggested that it
would not be very difficult to seduce her.

And there the
thought stopped, leaving him feeling ashamed of himself.

He filled his
glass again and was about to drain it when he realised what he was
doing.

‘
Oh God!
I’m drunk – or as near as makes no matter. I must be or I wouldn’t
be thinking this way.’ Through the silence came the sound of a
carriage rumbling to a halt outside the gate. Alex stood up and
then, rising, extinguished the single branch of candles.

‘
Oh
Marigold,’ he said, vaguely rueful. ‘I meant well .. but I really
don’t think I’m fit to talk to you after all. And it won’t help if
you find me cup-shot.’

On entering the
house, Chloë’s eyes went automatically to the place where, for four
days, Sarah’s letter had lain. She saw that it had gone and felt
her breath leak away. He was back, then; she had half-expected it.
Taking off her cloak, she dropped it over a chair then stood for a
moment, staring at the parlour doors, trying to compose herself. At
length, she took a deep breath and went in.

There was no
light but every sense told her he was there.

‘
Hello,’
she said quietly. ‘Have we run out of candles?’

The silence
seemed to stretch out to infinity and then Alex stirred and spoke,
his voice disembodied in the gloom.

‘
No,’ he
said to the sound of scraping flint. He re-lit the candles and
looked across at her. ‘How did you know I was in here?’

‘
Instinct.’ Her eyes rested on his face as if she had never
seen him before. ‘Is everything all right? You look …
strange.’

He smiled and
came out of the shadows towards her, saying pleasantly, ‘You mean,
more so than usual? No. You’re just seeing me as a hero for the
first time.’

‘
No, I’m
not.’ Chloë managed a creditable grin. ‘The only difference is that
now it’s official. I just hope you won’t let it go to your head.’
And to herself, she added despairingly, ‘
You’re bone-tired and tense and not very sober. Again. Why
must I pretend not to notice?
’

The light gaze
dwelt on her intently. ‘I think I can promise that. Matt told you
about it?’

‘
Yes. I
think he was sorry he missed the grand finale, though. Was it
spectacular?’

‘
Very. A
worthy rival to the City of London’s Royal Birthday
Party.’

Chloë smiled.
‘But without Muses or doves?’

‘
We
didn’t need them. We had Giles doing acrobatics and me supplying
the verse.
Faustus
, in fact.
It seemed appropriate.’

There was
something in his expression that Chloë found disturbing and she
turned away to escape it, feeling rather confused. It was as if
they were conducting their conversation in code. Her own part she
understood; she was doing what she always had to do, when all she
really wanted was to ask about Sarah. But the baffling thing now
was that he seemed to be doing it too; forcing himself to say
things he cared nothing about as a shield for those he did.

She sank
gracefully into a chair and started the nightly ritual of pulling
the pins from her hair while she said hesitantly, ‘I can see why
you said you had to have solid proof. It’s quite hard to believe
Simon was behind all the things Matt told me about. He was always
so …
efféminé
.’

With an effort,
Alex tore his attention away from the delicate curve of her neck
and summoned a reply. ‘Quite. Unfortunately, he’s also vain,
avaricious and vindictive – not to mention dangerously clever. I
don’t know what they’ll do with him but I hope never to hear of him
again.’ He paused for a second and when he spoke again, his voice
was faintly unsure. ‘Perhaps I should have killed him. I intended
to.’

Chloë looked
round and met his eyes.

‘
You
intended to and you wanted to – which is why you didn’t. And you
were right. Wasn’t Prince Rupert satisfied?’

He smiled a
little. ‘Eventually.’

‘
Well, I
should think so too. And the King is not only satisfied but
grateful. In fact,’ she said, a shade less buoyantly, ‘he wants to
give you a reward. Anything, I gather, except money or Frances
Stuart.’

As she hoped,
Alex laughed. ‘What a shame. We could have done with the
money.’

‘
And
Frances Stuart?’ asked Chloë, unable to help herself.

‘
Is she
His Majesty’s latest?’

‘
About to
be, I think.’ She dropped the last of the pins on the table, shook
her hair loose and ran her hands through it.

‘
I can
take her or leave her,’ Alex said, staring and wishing he could
touch. ‘And then, of course, I’m not looking to establish a
seraglio.’

And this time,
Chloë couldn’t think of an answer.

Alex watched as
she bent her head thoughtfully over her hands. The candlelight
touched the rose-gold hair with flame and shadowed the artfully
darkened lashes lying downcast against her cheek. Her face was
thinner than he remembered and she looked pale – as if, beneath the
composure, lay a strain at whose cause he could not even guess.
Something he couldn’t name rose in his chest and it hurt to
breathe. He forgot that it was late, that he wasn’t entirely sober,
that he’d meant to wait for a better time. He forgot everything
except that, though uncertainty was killing him, the possibility of
a rebuff was worse.

With some vague
idea that an oblique approach might be safest, he said lightly,
‘I’ve been wondering whether our annulment is worth the trouble of
continuing to pursue it.’

Chloë’s throat
closed with shock. ‘Oh?’

‘
Yes. One
becomes … accustomed, after all. And Matt is strongly averse to
change. It seems a pity to upset him necessarily. What do you
think?’

What she
thought was that she didn’t know where this might be leading and
why he was choosing to say it now right after, presumably, reading
Sarah’s letter. She said carefully, ‘I – I think it seems a rather
drastic step to take for Matt’s peace of mind.’

‘
Not just
his. I too have grown comfortable with our life.’ And thought
wildly,
‘Comfortable? God, what a bloody
stupid thing to say!’
Then, striving for lightness,
‘And who else will sew on my buttons?’

There was a
tiny tremor in the insouciant voice that Chloë, with her back to
him, took for laughter. It never occurred to her that quick-witted,
sharp-tongued Mr Deveril was so completely out of his depth that he
had no idea what to say. Something inside her shrivelled and when
she spoke again, her voice matched his. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of
someone. And buttons aren’t everything.’

‘
True.’
He laid one hand gently on the polished table and contemplated his
fingers. ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

‘
Haven’t
I?’ Chloë kept her gaze on her lap. ‘I didn’t think I needed to. I
thought you were joking.’

‘
No,’ he
said. And thought, ‘
Not joking, Marigold.
Just afraid I’ll make myself ridiculous by
drenching you in emotion
.’ Then, aware that it
was not going well, he said in a tone stripped of all levity, ‘No.
In fact, I wasn’t. It simply occurred to me that we have been
waiting eight months for our marriage to be declared null – and we
may wait another eight. It seems an inordinate amount of
inconvenience for something that I, at least, do not particularly
want.’ He hesitated and then ploughed on. ‘We’re not strangers any
more – indeed, I hope that we’ve become friends. And so I wondered
if we might not bow to the inevitable and allow our marriage to
stand.’ Another pause while he forced out, as unemotionally as
possible, the words that had to be said. ‘Unless, of course, you
find me distasteful in any way or have … formed an attachment for
someone else?’

He waited for
what seemed a very long time before she turned slowly towards
him.

‘
Are you
suggesting,’ asked Chloë, her eyes wide and dark, ‘that we go on
just as before?’

The ground
shifted beneath Alex’s feet, bringing him to the edge of the
precipice. He managed a crooked smile. ‘Not quite, my dear,’ he
said, so casually that he astounded himself. ‘I hoped you might
consider sharing my bed.’

For the second
time that evening, Chloë’s breath froze in her lungs. Then, because
his words made no more sense than anything else in their
conversation so far, she rose mechanically from her seat and heard
herself say, ‘Did you? Why? Because the annulment is troublesome
and Matt dislikes change? Or because your life is beautifully
ordered and I don’t disturb it? I’m sorry – but I don’t find those
reasons adequate.’

A rare flush
stained Alex’s skin and his eyes glittered strangely.

‘
Don’t
you? Then forget them and I’ll give you another,’ he said before he
could stop himself. ‘I love you.’

Hope blossomed
at the words but was instantly withered by the flatness of his
tone. For a tiny instant Chloë thought she was going to be sick and
then the feeling was washed away in a wave of anger. Again, the
notion that he was sincere but so unsure of himself he was afraid
of being laughed at, never occurred to her.

‘
Really?’
Well, that
is
a surprise!’
she snapped. ‘You must think I’m an idiot!’

Burningly aware
of his own clumsiness, Alex proceeded to make matters worse.

‘
No! I
didn’t mean it to sound like that – I never meant to say it at all
just yet.’

‘
That
I can believe!’ she retorted furiously.
‘Won’t you ever learn not to make these sort of proposals when
you’re three sheets to the wind?’

An oddly shaken
laugh escaped him. ‘Not true – or not entirely. I know I’m making
an unholy mess of it – but I mean what I’m saying. I love you.’

‘
So you
said. Roughly translated, that means you need me to sew on your
buttons and save you from your wealthy widow. Oh – how
is
Sarah, by the way? Still pining
for you?’

‘
Not any
more, I hope.’

Chloë stared at
him, a knife twisting in her stomach. ‘You’ve seen her?’

He nodded
uneasily. ‘Yes. I wanted to – ‘

‘
Spare
me,’ said Chloë coldly. ‘At least it makes some sense of the last
ten minutes. The only thing I
don’t
understand is why you should think it necessary to endure the
tedium of making love to me. After all, with a little address and
careful planning – both of which are supposed to be your speciality
– you could have the best of both worlds.’

There was a
sudden deathly hush, then Alex gave a reckless little laugh and
advanced towards her smiling.

‘
You’re
quite wrong, you know. Utterly, spectacularly wrong. I
have
the best of all worlds, here in
this house with you. I want nothing else. But I need you to tell me
that I may keep it.’ The wide, silvery gaze held hers.
‘Please.’

The
saving wrath fell away from her, leaving her defenceless. She
stared into his eyes, still unable to trust him and seeking to
discover what lay behind the words. He rarely said what he meant –
and frequently said things he didn’t. She had always known that. So
what then
did
he mean? His
eyes didn’t tell her. Instead, they warned of his immediate
intention but a fraction too late to avoid it.

In two strides,
Alex was at her side, capturing her hands and holding them deftly
behind her. It was Oxford all over again and brown eyes met blue in
a moment of shared recollection. Then Alex said softly, ‘Forgive
me, Chloë. But it’s the only weapon I have left.’ And his mouth
found hers.

Too startled to
resist, too shaken to engage her brain, and wanting beyond reason
to have this one moment, Chloë simply gave in. Her hands relaxed
and her mouth opened to the warmth of his. Alex released her wrists
and gathered her against him, gliding one hand up into the
waterfall of her hair to cradle her skull. The kiss deepened and
her arms slid round his neck. She was lost. They both were.

Aeons later yet
still too soon, Alex released her mouth to look into her eyes.

‘
I want
you,’ he breathed. ‘Say you want me too.’

Reason
returned. It would be so easy … so very easy to just say ‘yes’ and
let it happen … and God knew, she wanted to. It would make the lie
she had been prepared to tell a truth and the annulment an
impossibility. And yet … and yet … if she did that, she might never
know if this moment had been real. He had been drinking and, though
not drunk, neither was he completely sober – and they had been here
before. She couldn’t let it – didn’t dare let it – happen again.
Summoning up every ounce of will, she brought her palms to his
shoulders and tried to push him away.