Nobody Asked Me

CHAPTER IV

THERE was another long silence, which seemed to Alison to last for hours.

Then slowly he raised his head.

‘What did you say?’ he got out at last.

She didn’t repeat it. She couldn’t. Besides, she could see from his face that he had heard.

Her hands were shaking so that she had to clasp them together. And after a moment she sank down on the rug in front of him, partly because her legs refused to support her any longer.

He took hold of her wrist suddenly and jerked her round to face him.

‘Did you mean that-what you said?’

‘Yes.’

She didn’t look up. She stared at the firelight on the amber satin of her frock, while he stared at the firelight on the pale gold satin of her hair.

Then he gave an impatient little exclamation and almost pushed her away.

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he told her roughly. ‘You’re only a schoolgirl.’

‘I’m not I’m twenty. And-and I’d do anything to get away from here.’ Better to put it on that footing at once, and, in any case, her passionate sincerity gave point to it.

She saw his expression change a little, but he only said curtly, ‘Well, chasing over the world with a man you scarcely know isn’t a good solution.’

‘I only thought-’

Alison stopped, and bit her lip, wondering rather wildly how she had got herself involved in this awful discussion.

‘What did you think?’ He looked a little disagreeable, but singularly unperturbed for a man who had just received a proposal.

‘I thought,’ Alison said in a very low voice, ‘I thought-it might be a business arrangement that suited us both.’

‘So your idea is that you would escape from your aunt’s petty tyranny and I should be able to take my South American job-and by mutual consent we should look on it as nothing more than a business deal?’

‘Yes.’ Alison’s voice sounded very small, even to her own ears.

‘Well, you’re a silly little fool,’ he told her uncompromisingly. ‘It’s the sort of idea that sounds excellent in theory and just doesn’t work in practice.’

‘Oh, but why?’ Alison spoke with the boldness of desperation.

‘Because it’s a false and ridiculous position for any ordinary man and girl. And now that every link with Rosalie has been broken’-his mouth tightened-’you and I have no other connection. That’s all we are to each other. Any ordinary man and girl.’

He meant it as a dash of cold water, she knew, but it had quite the opposite effect. Something in that phrase made her senses tingle oddly, made her realise how completely he had put himself outside Rosalie’s life at last. She stared into the fire so that he shouldn’t see the sudden light in her eyes, or the agitated colour in her cheeks.

‘Well then,’ she said quietly, ‘as an ordinary girl to an ordinary man, I suggest that we both stand to gain and not lose by the arrangement. I don’t want to sound calculating’ -he smiled slightly, perhaps because he saw how childishly her hands were trembling-’but I can’t help seeing that life as your-I mean, life out there-would be infinitely preferable to my life here. And, on your side, you either have to marry someone or else give up the job and stay here to watch Rosalie and her new fiancé.’

She saw from the angry way he winced that the last sentence had found its mark, and impulsively she put her hand on his.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, only it’s the truth.’

‘I know, I know,’ he said with an impatient sigh. Then he took her by the shoulders, not ungently, and turned her towards him again.

‘I wish I knew how much of this is angry impulse which you’ll bitterly regret.’

She wouldn’t look at him, but she said very earnestly, It’s not just impulse-really. And I shouldn’t regret it. It seems to me it’s just-just common sense.’

‘Oh, no,’ he said with a short laugh. ‘Whatever else it is, it isn’t that.’

‘But, Julian,’-she spoke his name timidly-’it isn’t as though we aren’t both a good deal afraid of the future as it is now.’

‘You mean we don’t either of us stand to lose much?’ He smiled grimly again. ‘No, I suppose we don’t.’

‘It’s simply a-a question of whether you think getting that job in Buenos Aires is worth the risk of marrying me.’

‘Not only that, Alison,’ he said. ‘There’s another side to it too.’

‘What?’

‘Look at me.’ His voice was quiet but peremptory, and reluctantly she raised her scared brown eyes to his face. There’s the question of whether you think escaping from your life here is worth the risk of marrying me.’

‘But I’ve told you-’ Alison whispered.

He stared unsmilingly at her, and then all at once he drew her against him.

‘Poor little Alison. You’re terribly scared really, aren’t you?’

But for a moment she felt him put his cheek down against the top of her head as though it were he, and not she, who needed comforting.

‘I’m not scared-exactly,’ she said, with a shaky little laugh. ‘Only it’s rather a shock to find you’ve proposed to someone.’

He laughed a little, too, at that. ‘Good lord, I suppose that is what you did. And I haven’t really even accepted you yet, have I?’

She moved slightly in a circle of his arm.

‘Do you realise what you’re taking on, I wonder?’ He spoke much more gently now. ‘I’m not a very easy man to live with, you know. I think Rosalie would tell you I’m violent and unreasonable and difficult.’

‘I’m not interested in Rosalie’s opinion of you,’ Alison said quietly. ‘We’re not likely to see eye to eye on anything-least of all on you.’

For some reason, that seemed to please him. He tightened his arm impulsively and said, ‘You’re a darling, Alison-and extraordinarily comforting.’

‘I’m very glad.’ She moved her hand rather shyly up and down his arm with a little caressing movement. ‘I-I meant to be comforting,’ she said gently, ‘but I think I must just have sounded aggressive and rather shameless.’

He laughed softly, even a little teasingly. ‘Not aggressive exactly. Merely as though you were sure you knew what was best for us. And as for being shameless, why, the only time you raised your eyes to my face was when I deliberately told you to.’

‘Oh.’ She coloured.

Then she saw suddenly that he was not noticing her any more. An idea seemed to have struck him. He put her away from him, gently but quite firmly, and, getting up, began to walk up and down the room.

She watched him nervously, and, when he stopped abruptly in front of her, she got hastily to her feet as though feeling a little foolish at discovering that she was still crouching there.

‘Would you be very much afraid if I took you back into that room with me now, and told them I was engaged to you?’ His curiously light grey eyes looked cold and brilliant in his dark face.

‘Why, of course not,’ she said gently. ‘At least-if you think that is the best way to do it, I’m quite ready. It’s going to be rather a shock for them, whichever way we choose.’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it’s going to be rather a shock.’ And, at the expression on his face, Alison caught herself hoping nervously that she would never make him look like that. He was a good hater, she could see.

‘Give me your hand, Alison,’ he said abruptly.

‘My hand? Why?’

He looked a little drily amused at that.

‘Why do you think?’ he said as he drew off his signet ring.

‘Oh!’ Alison went scarlet and then white.

‘It’s only a makeshift, of course. I’ll buy you a real one to-morrow-whatever you like. But I’m going to make them all believe that Rosalie and I parted by mutual consent, because we both wanted someone else.’

She bit her lip sharply. There was something of the angry, hurt boy about this feverish, transparent effort to ease his crushed pride, to take away the sting of the frightful humiliation Rosalie had put on him.

‘I think it’s a good idea,’ she said in a resolutely matter-of-fact tone, and was touched again to see the relief in his face.

She held out her left hand, the fingers spread out a little, and he put his signet ring on her finger.

It was large for her and slipped round, so that only the plain gold band of the inside showed.

‘Prophetic,’ remarked Julian, and laughed slightly.

‘Yes,’ Alison said, but her voice was only a whisper, for an odd lump seemed to have lodged in her throat.

Then he drew her arm lightly through his, and they went out of the room together.

The first person they met was Uncle Theodore, who was crossing the hall.

‘Julian, I’m dreadfully sorry about this disgraceful business,’ he began. Then, as he noticed Alison’s insignificant presence: ‘Run along, Alison. I want to speak to Mr. Tyndrum a moment.’

She would have gone at once, used as she was to effacing herself, but Julian pressed his arm against his side so that she couldn’t withdraw her hand.

‘You really mustn’t distress yourself about it, Mr. Leadburn,’ he said pleasantly and casually. ‘I’m afraid you’ve heard only half of the story-especially since you suggest that Alison should leave us.’

‘Alison?’ Uncle Theodore had evidently never supposed that his niece counted for much in any domestic crisis.

‘Certainly.’ Julian was smiling a little now, and he calmly drew his arm away, to put it lightly round her. ‘Alison and I are engaged.’

‘Alison and you!’ Uncle Theodore looked stupefied, and Alison thought irrelevantly that she had never seen his expression change so often in so short a time.

‘Yes.’ Julian glanced down at her with an appearance of tenderness which shook her badly. ‘Rosalie’s-courageous frankness about her preference for Myrton served my happiness as well as hers. It left me free to admit that I too had made a mistake which I was anxious to repair.’

‘Rosalie’s what’?’ said Uncle Theodore contemptuously. ‘You know as well as I do that her motive was just selfish spite.’

‘But need we examine Rosalie’s motives so closely,’ Julian said mildly, ‘since we are all quite happy at what has happened?’

Alison marvelled at the calm way he withstood her uncle’s penetrating look. She herself trembled a little when it was turned to her.

‘And what have you to say about it, Alison?’ Her uncle’s tone was not unkindly; only puzzled.

‘I’m very happy,’ she said softly. And she supposed that in a sense that was true.

‘Hm! Been eating your heart out for Julian all along, I suppose?’ he said drily.

She couldn’t quite make herself answer that in words. It was too uncomfortably near the truth. So she just nodded, and stared hard at the ground.

‘Well’-her uncle turned back to Julian, his air not un-tinged with amusement-’I suppose I don’t need to tell you that I think you’re less to be pitied than Myrton.’

‘I assure you I don’t feel in any need of pity,’ Julian said, smiling. And Alison was oddly certain that it gave immense satisfaction to his battered self-respect to be able to say that.

‘Have you told my wife yet?’

‘No. Events followed too quickly on each other, you see.’ Julian was imperturbable still. ‘But I think we must go and tell her now.’

‘Yes, by all means let us go and tell her,’ agreed Uncle Theodore.

When they came into the room, a few couples were drifting about the floor to the strains of dance-music from the radio. But most of the company was gathered about Rosalie, laughing and talking.

For a second Alison felt Julian’s hand tightened unbearably on her arm. She gasped slightly, not so much with the pain of his grip as the pain of knowing that the very sight of another girl could move him so profoundly.

He murmured a word of apology, and at that moment Rosalie saw him. She was evidently taken aback at seeing him still there after his dismissal, but, recovering herself immediately, she addressed him a little defiantly across the room.

‘Won’t you come and drink to my happy engagement, too, Julian?’

In the startled, amused hush that fell upon the others, he came slowly forward.

‘Of course.’ He took the glass steadily from her fingers. ‘And in return you must drink to mine.’

‘What-do you mean?’

Rosalie’s own glass shook, so that some of the wine spilled and ran down over her fingers.

‘Simply that our mutual decision earlier in the evening left us both free to repair a-mutual mistake.’ Julian smiled full at her-not insolently, but with a sort of dangerous courtesy. ‘While I drink to your happiness with Myrton, you must drink to my happiness with Alison.’ And he bowed slightly to her over the rim of his glass.

‘Alison!’

Rosalie turned quite pale with shocked anger, while a little ripple of laughter and something like applause went round the group.

‘Are you surprised? Then I must have hidden my feelings better than I knew. But now you know, I’m sure you will not grudge us your congratulations. Your health and happiness, Rosalie-and you too, Myrton.’ And he turned for a moment to the blond youngster who was Rosalie’s latest acquisition.

‘Very well done,’ murmured Uncle Theodore to no one in particular. But Alison heard him.

She supposed she ought to find some sort of satisfaction in this turning of the tables on Rosalie. But she felt no such thing. Instead, there was just a scared distress in her heart, a cold sense of apprehension. For it was her engagement- her one precious, fragile link with Julian-that was the subject of this frightening duel.

It seemed an odd way to celebrate marriage, she thought unhappily.

As for Aunt Lydia ’s reaction, that was entirely unexpected-until Alison realised that she was doing her best to convert Rosalie’s blank and furious dismay into a decent retreat.

‘My dear child!’ Aunt Lydia bumped her cheek gently against Alison’s in simulation of a kiss. ‘Well, I must say I am exceedingly surprised. Aren’t you, Theodore?’

‘Not in the least,’ her husband said drily, and he glanced across at Rosalie with such patent dislike that even Aunt Lydia was checked for a moment in her flow of conventional eloquence.

‘Poor Aunt Lydia,’ thought Alison dispassionately. ‘Her family aren’t standing by her very well.’

‘I’m a good deal surprised myself, Aunt Lydia,’ she said timidly. ‘But-but it’s a very nice surprise.’

‘Very.’ Aunt Lydia ’s supply of synthetic sympathy was running out. ‘A little breathtaking, though,’ she added.

‘Rather like matrimonial "Family Coach",’ observed one of the guests. But Aunt Lydia only paid that the tribute of a very bleak smile.

‘It will have to be a very short engagement, won’t it?’ remarked someone else.

‘Oh, yes. But we don’t mind that.’ Julian put his arm round Alison again and drew her to his side. ‘Do we?’

Alison shook her head wordlessly.

Then he whispered, ‘Don’t tremble so.’ And his voice was so gentle that she suddenly wanted to weep.

Perhaps he guessed how overwrought she was, because he glanced round and said, ‘But we’re wasting all our evening, standing about talking. Why aren’t we dancing?’

And a moment later, Alison found herself swung away from the group to dance with Julian, and, when the others found that the tenseness of the crisis was passing, they soon followed suit.

‘Feeling better?’ His voice sounded quietly just above. her head.

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Could you manage to smile a little, then?’

She looked up quickly and smiled unsteadily at him. It was curiously like the very first evening of all, only this time it was his pride that must be saved, she thought with fierce determination.

‘That’s better. You’re a good, brave child, Alison,’ he said. ‘You backed me up splendidly.’

‘I don’t think I did much,’ replied Alison honestly. ‘And anyway, I was terrified.’

‘Were you? Well, I think you might well be excused on the grounds of having used up all your courage in the library.’

She knew he was smiling a little at that, but she didn’t dare look up, because his words brought back that incredible scene so clearly.

‘Does the idea of this rush engagement scare you, Alison?’ he asked after a moment.

‘Oh, no.’

‘It’s the only way we can manage it, you know. Because we shall have to leave in early November.’ He sounded a little troubled.

‘I know. It doesn’t matter.’

‘Doesn’t it? You make things very easy,’ he said gently. But Alison didn’t think ‘easy’ was quite the word to describe that evening. She felt terribly tired-emotionally tired-and more than once during the evening she found herself wincing uncontrollably because Julian’s tenderness to her was all a pretence.

It was very well done, but it was pretence. It couldn’t be anything else. Only a few hours ago she had seen him white and distraught because another girl had thrown aside his love for her.

And every now and then, like an electric sign flashing out in the night, there flickered across her memory the words she had heard him say to Rosalie that day weeks ago in the library:

‘The girl’s nothing whatever to me. I don’t care two pins about her.’

Once she thought in panic, ‘What have I done? It can’t be anything but terrible, being married to an indifferent Julian, yet feeling as I do. I must have been mad to rush so.crazily into this.’

Then she remembered his saying, ‘You’re a good, brave child.’ And she thought, with a little humble rush of gratitude, that, in a way, she had been allowed to save him.

At the end of the evening, he drew her out into the hall to say good night to her.

‘I shall look in to-morrow and see you then,’ he told her. And that, too, was oddly like the first evening. Only, of course, she hadn’t really seen him for months after he had said that before.

Didn’t he remember? Men were so queerly insensitive, she thought. Or perhaps it was just that she was ridiculously sensitive that evening.

She drew a long breath, and just then he gave a very slight exclamation and stared hard at her upper arm.

‘What have you done to your arm?’

She didn’t say anything. She knew what it was without having to look at the five tiny bruises.

Very lightly he fitted his fingers and thumb against the marks.

‘Did I do that?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said quickly.

But he looked extraordinarily concerned. She thought he was going to say something. And then, the next moment, he had bent his head and touched her arm very gently with his lips.

‘I’m sorry, my child. That seems very poor gratitude. But thank you for everything.’

His voice was not entirely steady, and he went away after that without even saying good night.

But Alison didn’t notice. She couldn’t have said a word herself. She only stood there with her hand over her arm, as though she would hold the imprint of his first kiss there.

At last, with a little sigh, she turned and went back into the room where the rest of the family were.

The moment she came in, Rosalie turned on her.

‘What do you imagine you’re doing?’ she demanded furiously. ‘Have you no decency at all-snatching at Julian less than ten minutes after he was free?’

Alison pushed back her hair from her forehead with a characteristic gesture of nervousness.

‘I don’t know why you’re complaining, Rosalie. You don’t want Julian. You said so-without much display of the decency you mention. Well, I do want him and’-her voice trembled very slightly-’and he wants me. You’re going to be happy with Rodney Myrton. Why shouldn’t Julian and I be happy too?’

‘And do you really suppose I’m fool enough to believe that Julian really wants you?’ Rosalie’s cold contempt was very hard to stand. ‘You’re just a sort of salve to his injured vanity because-’

‘I’m not discussing that with you,’ Alison interrupted quietly. ‘Julian is my fiancé now, you might remember.’ And, fantastic though the whole situation was, she felt a warm, illogical feeling of pride and tenderness run all through her as she said that.

Rosalie began to speak again, but at this point Uncle Theodore seemed to think it time he took a hand. He turned from something he was saying to his wife and remarked:

‘I think that is enough, Rosalie. You can’t possibly have both young men without committing bigamy, and I am sure you wouldn’t dream of doing anything that would have such unpleasant consequences for yourself. Leave your cousin and her affairs alone. Julian is not your concern any longer. And you would give a more dignified impression if you didn’t show your disappointed spite so clearly.’

His stepdaughter didn’t reply. She gave him a look of intense dislike-which appeared to leave him entirely unmoved-and went out of the room without saying good night even to her mother.

‘Well, Alison’-Alison couldn’t help feeling that in some obscure way her uncle was enjoying all this-’we shan’t have any too much time to prepare for your wedding. But still, we must arrange something very nice for you.’

Alison was so moved at this that she flushed until the tears came into her eyes. But her aunt spoke very sharply.

‘I should think the best thing would be to have absolutely no fuss. She had better be married quietly in a register office.’

‘Certainly not.’ Uncle Theodore was almost amiable for him, and quite determined. ‘That’s no sort of marriage for a young girl. I am sure Alison agrees with me.’

‘I-I’d rather be married in a church,’ Alison said in a low voice.

‘Of course,’ her uncle said. ‘And, as a matter of fact, you’ll make an extremely pretty bride. You shall have things just as you want them.’

‘Oh, Uncle!’ Alison went to him suddenly and hid her face against his arm. ‘You are good to me. I don’t know why.’

Her uncle stroked her hair a little, very much to her surprise, and somewhat to his own, she thought. ‘It’s because you are a good, undemanding child,’ he told her.

‘Really, Theodore.’ Aunt Lydia couldn’t hide her vexed astonishment. ‘You seem a great deal better pleased and more interested about Julian’s engagement to Alison than ever you were when he was to marry Rosalie.’

‘I am,’ her husband said coolly. ‘I imagine Alison is genuinely fond of him, whereas Rosalie was marrying him simply for his money. And, of course,’ he added reflectively, ‘to marry a man for his money is about the most despicable thing any woman can do.’

Alison felt frightened at the expressionless way her uncle looked all over his wife, without appearing to see her. There was something unnerving in this passion of contemptuous dislike which never found expression in words.

But apparently Aunt Lydia was not so sensitive, or else she was a good actress. For after a moment she said with plaintive mildness:

‘Well, I don’t see how we’re going to afford two expensive weddings so close together.’

‘Then Rosalie can wait,’ was the curt reply.That did shake Aunt Lydia.

‘Rosalie-wait’? For Alison? Really, Theodore, I think you’re forgetting that Alison is really no relation of yours at all.’

‘Nor is Rosalie,’ retorted her husband brutally. ‘And, of the two, I would rather spend my money on Alison. She has always seemed to me to be a grateful, docile child, and very eager to please. I have never found Rosalie anything but a grasping, selfish, quite exceptionally disagreeable young person. That is all I have to say about it. And now, Alison, you had better run along to bed.’

Alison thought so too, and, with an impulsive hug for her uncle and a rather embarrassed good night to her aunt, she went away upstairs.

When she woke next morning she lay for quite a few minutes, watching the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains, and wondering why a sense of frightened exhilaration seemed to struggle with a feeling of apprehension.

Then suddenly she remembered.

She snatched her left hand out from under the coverlet. It was quite true. The thick gold of Julian’s signet ring glimmered on her finger.

For a moment she pressed her hand hard against her cheek so that she could feel his ring there-the ring which he himself had worn. He had said something about buying her another one-’anything she liked’. But she thought wistfully that she would much rather have kept this one.

Presently she got up and went downstairs. Her aunt and Rosalie were breakfasting in their rooms, but her uncle was already down, so she joined him.

He glanced up from The Times, said, ‘Good morning, Alison,’ absently, and then went back to his paper.

Alison wondered whether he were a little ashamed of his show of feeling last night, or whether it was that his interest had genuinely evaporated.

However, when he had finished his breakfast he folded up his newspaper with his usual precision, and looked across at her.

‘I suppose there’s a good deal to be done about your trousseau and that sort of thing,’ he said with masculine vagueness.

‘Well, I suppose-there is,’ Alison admitted a little uncomfortably.

Her uncle thoughtfully balanced his coffee-spoon on the edge of his cup.

‘I spoke to your aunt last night about it, and she doesn’t seem specially anxious to take the business in hand. Perhaps she feels she has enough to do for Rosalie already.’ He adjusted the balance of the spoon with meticulous care.

They didn’t look at each other, and after a moment Alison said gravely, ‘I dare say she does.’

Uncle Theodore cleared his throat.

‘It seems a bit of a responsibility for you on your own. Especially considering that you’re only out of school six or seven months. Have you any woman friend you can consult about it?’

‘Oh, no.’ Alison looked surprised. She hadn’t had many opportunities of making friends.

‘Well, you’d better speak to Julian about it.’ Her uncle had evidently come to the end of his suggestions. ‘One of his partners probably has a wife or a mother or someone he could ask I’m afraid I can’t help you over anything much but the bills.’ And he smiled a little grimly.

‘Oh, Uncle, I shan’t need very much-really.’ Alison spoke distressedly.

‘Nonsense, my dear, of course you will. Julian is a very rich man, with a big position to keep up. You don’t suppose I should let you go to him looking like a shabby little nobody?’

‘It seems-such a shame,’ Alison said in a low voice.

‘What does?’

‘That you-you’re always called on to do the paying.’

Her uncle laughed a little.

‘I assure you that twenty years of constant practice has perfected my technique,’ he said drily. ‘You needn’t bother your head about that.’ And he patted her fair, silky head not unkindly as he went off.

Alison had no wish to see either Rosalie or Aunt Lydia just then, so she deliberately made some jobs for herself in her own room.

Then presently one of the servants knocked on the door, to say that Mr. Tyndrum was waiting in the library.

‘Oh, yes, I’ll come.’

Alison glanced at herself in the mirror, ran a comb nervously through her hair, and hurried downstairs.

He was standing looking out of the window, his hands in his pockets, and he looked very tall and overwhelming silhouetted against the light.

At the sound of the opening door he turned and came towards her at once.

‘Did you-did you want to see me?’ Alison spoke a little breathlessly, and then thought what a ridiculous thing that was to say.

‘Well, yes, Alison, I did.’ He looked amused. ‘We have a good deal to discuss, haven’t we?’

Alison supposed they had.

‘I thought perhaps you would like to come with me now to choose your ring, and then we could have lunch together and talk things over. We haven’t a great deal of time, considering how much there is to be done before we leave.’

She noticed a little wistfully that he didn’t use the expression ‘before we are married.’

‘Very well, I’d like to come to lunch with you. But, Julian-’

‘Yes?’

‘About the ring. I-I’d just as soon keep this one, really.’

He looked so much surprised that she found herself blushing furiously.

‘Why, Alison, what an extraordinary idea.’

It-it is done sometimes,’ stammered Alison.

‘But only for sentiment’s sake, and that doesn’t apply in this case,’ he said with unconscious brutality.

Her colour ebbed again, and she was a little surprised even herself at the way her heart shrank before his careless frankness.

‘Why, you silly little goose.’ He laughed and took hold of her gently by her arm. ‘Are you trying to save me money or something? The exchequer will stand the strain of whatever it is you really want.’

With a tremendous effort she forced a smile.

‘Very well then. Thank you-very much.’

‘I believe you’ve forgotten you proposed this as a business deal,’ he reminded her amusedly. ‘Your role is to get as much out of it as possible.’

Alison was dumb; and he saw then that he had really hurt her.

‘I’m sorry, my child.’ He put his arm round her and drew her against him quickly. I was only teasing you. I’m not really suggesting you’re mercenary. I know you’re not. That’s why I shall enjoy giving you things.’

‘It’s all right.’ Alison managed another faint smile.

‘Sure?’ He put his hand under her chin and tipped her face up.’

‘Yes.’

She must say something that would make him let her go! She couldn’t possibly stand any sort of scrutiny.

‘You’ll have to tell me what you would like for a wedding present, too,’ he went on. ‘A fur coat, I suppose?’

That gave her her chance.

‘Oh, Julian, that reminds me.’ She moved quickly, so that he immediately released her. ‘Uncle Theodore said I was to speak to you about choosing my-my trousseau. You see-you see, Aunt Lydia isn’t at all anxious to help me, and I’m just a bit at sea when it comes to choosing such a big wardrobe.’

‘Of course,’ Julian spoke slowly and a little drily. ‘Your aunt would hardly want to be helpful in the circumstances.’

‘She’s rather busy,’ Alison offered timidly.

‘Busy helping Rosalie choose her trousseau, I suppose,’ he said bitterly. And, when Alison saw the angry misery in his face, her heart turned over sickeningly.

It showed her more clearly than anything else could have done how little she herself really counted. His forced gaiety, his little tenderness to her, just lay on the surface of his feelings. It was Rosalie-shallow, uncaring Rosalie- who had stirred the dark, still depths of his passion and affection. And, for a moment, Alison wondered if she could possibly go on with it all.

Then Julian passed his hand over his forehead rather bewilderedly and said:

‘You were saying-about your trousseau-’

She saw then, of course, that she had to go on. They were too far in it to turn back now. She couldn’t jilt him the day after Rosalie had. There were times when ridicule became the worst sort of tragedy-and that would be one of them.

She must just struggle on with the dreary pretence that he, too, was interested in her trousseau, though it all seemed rather silly and futile now.

‘Well, Uncle Theodore suggested that probably you would know somebody-I mean, a relation of one of your partners or someone like that-who wouldn’t mind helping me.’

She had a horrid sense of being in everyone’s way again, and she rather wished she had undertaken to muddle along on her own.

But Julian seemed to find it quite a reasonable suggestion.

‘Yes, of course. Jennifer Langtoft would be just the person. Simon Langtoft is our European sales manager,’ he added, ‘and I’ve known them both for years.’

‘Is Jennifer his wife?’

‘No, his sister.’

‘And do you think she would mind?’

‘Not in the least. It’s the kind of thing she loves. If you like, I’ll ring up Simon while you are getting ready, and see if they can both have dinner with us somewhere tonight,’ Julian said.

Thank you, Julian.’.

He gave her a little nod and picked up the telephone as she went out of the room.

By the time she came back, he appeared to have settled the business satisfactorily, because he said, Is eight o’clock at the Mirabelle all right for you?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Alison assured him, and couldn’t help wondering how he had explained the change in fiancées.

As Julian turned the grey Daimler into Knightsbridge Alison asked, ‘Does Jennifer Langtoft live with her brother?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then he’s not married?’

‘Oh, no.’ Julian laughed a little. ‘He’s not at all the marrying sort.’

‘What sort is he?’

Julian was looking ahead at the traffic lights.

‘Well, I suppose you would call him the kind that women always run after but never catch.’

‘Oh, I don’t think that sounds very nice,’ Alison said.

‘He is, I assure you. He can’t help being attractive, you know,’ Julian said amusedly.

‘Is he good-looking?’

‘No, not specially. At least, I shouldn’t call him so. But perhaps a woman would. Anyway, you will see him for yourself this evening.’

The car turned into Bond Street.

‘And what is she like?’

‘Oh, Jennifer is good-looking-very,’ Julian said warmly. ‘Tall and dark, dresses well, and- Here we are.’

He drew the car to a standstill, and Alison realised that she had only been talking so much because she was nervous. She didn’t really care what Simon Langtoft and his sister were like. But if she had sat in silence, turning over the thought that she was going with Julian to buy her engagement ring, her very heart-beats would have choked her.

In a dream she stared at the trays of rings that were set out for her inspection. She hadn’t the remotest idea what sort of ring she wanted. She felt as though she couldn’t possibly bring her mind to bear on the question.

‘Have you any special preference, Alison?’

Julian was standing beside her, eyeing the rings with polite attention.

‘No. I-well, I think perhaps diamonds, don’t you?’

He didn’t answer for a moment. Then he said rather coldly, ‘Just as you like.’

Glancing at him, she saw that his face was oddly expressionless.

Then she remembered.

She was a fool! Of course-Rosalie’s ring had been a diamond.

‘Or perhaps an emerald,’ she said quickly, blushing over her unfortunate slip.

He watched her while she tried on one or two with hands that trembled a little.

‘May I make a suggestion?’ Julian said, as the assistant turned away.

‘Of course.’

Then I should choose this one.’

He picked out a single blush-pink pearl of most exquisite sheen.

‘Would you?’ Alison slipped it on. It’s perfectly beautiful, of course. Why would you choose it?’

‘Because it is like you yourself.’

‘Like me?’ She looked up at him in surprise. ‘Why, how do you mean?’

‘It’s the same creamy pink as your cheeks, just where your lashes sweep them when you look down.’

‘Julian!’

She coloured deeply, and he laughed and said:

‘Oh, no. Now they don’t match at all.’

Alison was silent, overwhelmed by a wave of sweet yet painful emotion.

‘I’ll have this ring, please,’ she said at last in a voice that shook slightly.

And so it was settled.

Outside in the car again, she gave him back his signet ring. She hadn’t thought she could bear to part with it, but now the wrench scarcely hurt at all, because of what he had said about the one she had in its place.

Then he took her to lunch at some exclusive little place like nothing she had ever seen before. She left the choosing of the meal to him, and was pleased to find he either knew or guessed her tastes exceedingly well.

Over coffee he began to discuss their wedding, but so calmly that Alison found herself much more at ease about it.

She explained that her uncle was in favour of a church wedding with a certain amount of publicity, and, to her surprise, Julian agreed.

‘Most certainly,’ he said. ‘A very quiet wedding would be a mistake.’

‘Why?’ Alison couldn’t help asking.

‘Because, in the circumstances, the uncharitable might read almost anything into it,’ he told her drily.And, on reflection, Alison supposed, a little uncomfortably, that was true.

Afterwards, he drove her back to the house, and left her there with a promise to call for her at a quarter to eight that evening.

As Alison came into the hall, her aunt came out of her study.

‘Have you been shopping, Alison?’ she asked, without much show of interest in whatever Alison had been doing.

‘Yes’ At least, we-we went to buy my engagement ring. Do you like it?’

She held out her hand a little timidly for her aunt’s inspection.

‘Very nice,’ commented Aunt Lydia, as though it had come out of a Christmas cracker. ‘You’re not superstitious, then?’

‘Why?’

‘Oh, nothing. Only some people think pearls are very unlucky.’

‘She would say something like that,’ thought Alison indignantly.

But, without giving her a chance to reply, her aunt went on, ‘Have you made any arrangements about your trousseau?’

‘Well, yes. At least, a friend of Julian’s is going to help me choose it, as you are too-too busy.’

‘Really? What friend of Julian’s?’ Aunt Lydia seemed surprised.

‘Someone called Jennifer Langtoft. She’s the sister-’

‘Jennifer Langtoft!’ Her aunt made a significant little face. ‘And Julian suggested her?’

‘Yes.’

‘How exactly like a man. They really are the most blind and tactless creatures.’

‘Why? What is the matter with Jennifer Langtoft?’ Alison spoke a little apprehensively.

‘There’s nothing the matter with her, exactly,’ Aunt Lydia said. ‘Except that she’s always been extremely sweet on Julian herself. I believe Rosalie had quite a lot of trouble putting her in her place. I should have imagined that she would be the one to snap him up the moment he was free. However, of course, it’s a little late to say anything now.’

And with that she went back into her study and shut the door.