Marigold Chain (9 page)

His expression
remained enigmatic and his voice pleasant as he said, ‘That, of
course, is your privilege.’

‘
I
suppose it wouldn’t have anything to do with Sarah, would it?’ she
asked thoughtfully. And was given ample time to regret the
question.

Finally, he
said, ‘Who told you?’

She swallowed.
‘You did. At least, you asked Mr Lewis to tell Sarah you were
married. And when I told him I had no intention of holding you to
it, he said I’d be doing you a favour if I didn’t tell you so just
yet. So I thought … I just thought the two things might be
connected.’

He did not
speak but the look in his eyes was no longer either enigmatic or
pleasant. Recognising that she had made a major tactical error,
Chloë saw nothing for it but to plough doggedly on.

‘
What I’m
trying to tell you is that, if you have an understanding with Sa –
with any other lady, you need not feel honour bound to terminate it
because of me.’

‘
Am I,’
he asked sweetly, ‘supposed to be grateful?’

‘
No.
You’re supposed to tell me if you are betrothed – or the
equivalent.’

Faster than she
would have thought possible, he was across the room and leaning his
hands on the chair-back beside her.

‘
You are
either very tactless or indulging in a fit of female curiosity – or
both. But you should have stuck with Matt. You might have found him
easier game.’ He drew a sharp breath. ‘I won’t be interrogated or
discussed – in fact, I’ve a strong dislike of both. Do I make
myself clear?’

Chloë said
weakly, ‘I was trying to be helpful.’

‘
Well,
don’t. I can arrange my life without outside assistance. And though
I’m obliged to you for the Self-Denying Ordinance, I’m not
particularly impressed by sacrificial gestures. Especially when
they’re unnecessary.’

Rather pale but
capable once more of meeting fire with fire, Chloë said
witheringly, ‘I see. Do I applaud, say thank you or cast myself
down the nearest well?’

‘
The
choice,’ replied Mr Deveril, coldly, ‘is yours. What you
not
do is make any more attempts to
organise my existence. Our marriage, as you said yourself, is only
on paper.’

She suddenly
felt rather angry.

‘
You
don’t need to remind me – and you needn’t be afraid that I shall
try to change it. With an annulment pending, your privacy and your
bed are both quite safe from me.’

Alex raised one
mocking brow and surveyed her from head to foot until she flushed
to the roots of her hair.

‘
My dear
girl,’ he said carefully unlocking each syllable, ‘I don’t need
your assurance of it. You won’t invade my privacy because you won’t
be given the opportunity; and as for my bed … I believe it’s usual
to wait until you are asked.’

*

The meal, which
Matt shared with them, was not a success. Mr Deveril delivered an
acid diatribe on the subject of well-meaning interference to which
neither of his listeners felt any desire to contribute. Chloë began
by envying Mr Lewis his ability to let it flow over him without
showing any more reaction than a deaf-mute and ended by wishing she
could sink into the floor. When they had finished eating, she rose
thankfully to clear the board only to be pressed back into her seat
by Matt’s large hand on her shoulder.

‘
Sit
down, Mistress,’ he said tersely. ‘I’ll take care of this. You
might as well stay there and see what you’ve taken on.’ He glanced
at Mr Deveril and added, ‘Ashton was out. I’ll maybe try later.’
And picking up the plates, he stumped out.

Chloë was left
uncomfortably facing her husband who, mercifully, had stopped
talking and was watching her sardonically.

‘
Well?
Are you lost in admiration of my loquacity or debating whether or
not to fly the coop?’

‘
Neither,’ she returned shortly. ‘If you really want to know,
I was thinking a tongue like yours could start a small
war.’

The blue eyes
lost their baleful gleam. For a moment, Mr Deveril contemplated her
in silence and then, against all expectation, he said, ‘I
apologise. I don’t suppose the situation is any easier for you but
at least you’ve retained a sense of proportion. It was unfair of me
to reward it with ill-temper.’

Chloë smiled a
little. ‘Perhaps it’s a bad time?’

‘
You
could say that. At the moment, it feels like total bloody disaster
– most of which is entirely my own fault. The only consolation is
that I rarely make the same mistake twice … unless you favour
polygyny?’

‘
Only,’
she said firmly, ‘when I can’t get cloves.’

His brows
soared and he said amicably, ‘I’d say you’ve a fairly smart mouth
of your own, Marigold. However – let us address the practicalities.
As you’ll have realised, this is a lodging house so the
accommodation is somewhat limited but I believe we can get round
the problem. You take my room, Matt will remove to an empty one on
the floor below and I’ll occupy his. That should preserve the
proprieties without letting the world know what we’re about.’

‘
We
aren’t going to tell anyone, then?’

‘
Not
unless we must. I may eventually have to confide in Giles in order
to stop him trying to knock my head from my shoulders, but
--’

He stopped as
the door opened and a lady came in. She was beautiful – tall,
dark-haired and graceful. For a moment, Chloe wondered if this
could be Sarah but a glance into dark-fringed blue eyes assured her
that it could not.

‘
Hello,
Ju. Welcome to Pluto’s den. What brought you? Feminine intuition or
a message from Matt?’

Lady Julia
Blanchard laughed and shook her head.

‘
Wrong on
both counts. I met Freddy Iverson.’

‘
Iverson?’ repeated Alex vaguely. And then, looking at Chloë,
‘He was a witness?’

She nodded.
‘Yes. Mr Fawsley, also. Mr Beckwith left before the game.’

‘
Bristling with disapproval. Yes. I can imagine. Oh – this is
my sister, by the way.’ He turned back to her ladyship. ‘So. You
know everything and it’s all true. This is Chloë.’ And, closing his
eyes, he rested his chin on his chest, apparently relinquishing all
interest.

Fortunately, my
lady knew better than to let it bother her. She walked over to
Chloë, smiling warmly but with faint anxiety. ‘Alex is determined
to be difficult – which as you may have already gathered is by no
means unusual. I am Julia Blanchard and I came especially to meet
you. It’s too much to expect that Alex should recognise the
awkwardness of your position so I thought perhaps you might make do
with me.’

The kindness
was unexpected and Chloë felt herself grow pink.

‘
Thank
you. It is rather awkward. I only wish I could explain how it
happened.’

Alex opened one
eye. ‘Don’t put yourself out. I daresay Julia understands perfectly
– or thinks that she does.’

He sister’s
response to this cryptic utterance was to put out her tongue.

‘
Go to
sleep. You look like a two-day-old corpse. And, of course I know
how it happened. With you, how do such things ever happen? You were
monumentally drunk and that’s all it takes when you’re in a wild
mood.’ She returned her attention to Chloë. ‘Did you bring your
things with you or must you go back for them?’

Chloë shook her
head. ‘I have what I needed for over-night and a spare gown. But
that will have to do because I don’t intend to set foot in that
house ever again.’

Somewhat to her
surprise, Julia accepted this without question.

‘
I don’t
blame you. If Alex had behaved as your brother has done, I’d never
willingly have seen him again either – assuming I hadn’t already
killed him.’ She paused. ‘Let me help. You are smaller than I – but
no doubt we can contrive something. Now don’t argue – just get your
cloak. You must come home with me right now and we’ll get to know
each other and leave Alex to sleep himself into a better mood. He
won’t even miss us.’

Chloë glanced
at her somnolent husband.

‘
Yes he
will. The same way he’d miss an aching tooth.’

And had the
satisfaction of seeing his lips twitch before Julia swept her
away.

~ * * * ~

Being
both practical and intelligent, Chloë had never supposed that her
curious half-marriage would be easy, but what she had
not
expected was for Alex to create
a state so negative as to resemble fighting a curtain. There were
no difficulties or unpleasantnesses, no quarrels, no scenes; in
fact, there was nothing tangible at all. It was smooth, civilised
and about as substantial as living in a cloud.

On the
fourth day, he presented her with a wide, gold wedding band and
reclaimed his signet ring in a manner so crushingly bright as to
rob the gesture of any significance it might have had. At this
point, Chloë was tempted to seek advice from Mr Lewis; that she did
not do so was due less to Mr Deveril’s embargo on such discussions
than to the fact that Matt [though quite kind in his taciturn way]
was keeping her at arms’ length in a way that discouraged
confidences. Then, towards the end of the week, Mr Lewis presented
her with a purse containing eighty-five pounds and told her that
her step-brother had paid up and Mr Alex said she was to take the
money and buy anything she needed – at which point,
Chlo
ë
decided she really didn’t know what
to think.

During the
third week in January, news that France had declared war on England
caused a flurry of excitement that touched Chloë not at all. For
her, the days fell into a pattern in which her path rarely crossed
that of her husband. Alex was out a great deal and she seldom knew
where he went; likewise, if he got colossally drunk, she did not
know it – though she suspected he didn’t and wondered if the shock
of finding himself married was responsible. Left very much to her
own devices, she spent a lot of time with Julia and her husband Sir
Thomas, and the three of them were soon on the best of terms.
Indeed, Lady Julia’s only complaint was that Chloë, acutely aware
of the ambiguity of her position, flatly refused to enter the
little society that flourished amongst the exiled courtiers; and
when all her persuasions met with the same stubborn denial, Julia
said that their return to London would change everything and
temporarily gave up.

It was only
then that Chloë realised the full implications of her marriage;
that Alex’s residence in Oxford was but a temporary measure and
that he moved in circles quite outside her own limited
experience.

From Danny and
Freddy who, having taken a liking to each other, often visited as a
pair, she learned a little about Mr Deveril’s activities – largely
because Danny was a participant in most of them. Without
embarrassment, he recounted details of a number of ludicrous wagers
– from riding backwards down the High, to removing the weathervane
from a particularly inaccessible church steeple. Alex, it appeared,
was bent on living dangerously.

It did not take
Chloë long to notice that Mr Beckwith was conspicuous by his
absence and, since no one seemed to find it worthy of comment, she
steeled herself to ask Mr Deveril. Then, encountering him on his
way out with his right arm resting picturesquely in a sling, she
changed her mind. It wasn’t the time to take any silly risks – and
she probably wouldn’t get an answer anyway.

Less than half
an hour later Mr Fawsley arrived and, finding that he had missed
Alex, was just about to leave when Chloë pounced on him and bade
him come up and talk to her. Danny groaned, brushed imaginary sweat
from his brow and limped painfully up the extra flight. Chloë shut
the door behind him and eyed him severely.

‘
I knew
it. You’ve been fighting with Mr Deveril.’

He dropped into
a chair. ‘Not me. I’ve got more sense.’

‘
Then
what,’ she asked sceptically, ‘have you done to your foot? And why
is Mr Deveril wearing a sling?’

‘
Cabbages,’ grinned Danny.

She sat down.
‘Cabbages?’

‘
That’s
it. A whole cart-load of them, at the side of the beadle’s house –
and Alex bet me that he could plant more of ‘em on the roof than I
could.’

‘
I see,’
sighed Chloë. ‘And?’

‘
I scored
five then lost my balance, came down at full gallop and missed the
cart. Aye – you can laugh but I’ve got a cursed sprain and it hurts
like hell.’

‘
Then you
are well-served for you might have broken your leg. Do I take it
that Mr Deveril
has
broken
something?’

‘
No – but
it should have been his neck,’ replied Daniel, pushing a fiery
strand back from his brow, ‘He put up seven and was just on his way
up with the eighth when the beadle came out. God, but he was
furious! There he was, cursing like a goblin and then he started
shying cabbages up at Alex who was still on the roof, laughing
himself silly.’

‘
Go on –
or let me guess. Mr Deveril threw them back?’

Danny nodded.
‘He did.’

‘
I wish
I’d seen it,’ said Chloë. There was comfort in the idea of the
intimidating Mr Deveril playing pitch-and-toss with a cabbage. ‘How
did he fall?’

‘
The
wilder the goblin’s throws became, the more determined Alex was to
catch them. In the end he lost his footing, rolled sideways on to
the cart and dislocated his shoulder. The leech put it back and
said he was damned lucky to come off so light – but Giles says he’s
always had a charmed life.’