Bond of Fate (20 page)

By the time dinner was over, it was Celia's bedtime,

and for the first time it struck Melanie that she would be alone with Leonora and Julian for the rest of the evening, and there was nothing that she could do about it.

After Celia had said goodnight, they drifted into the lounge. Melanie made for her usual seat over by the French windows, but was halted in mid-stride by Julian's soft but imperative, 'Come on, darling, sit here with me.' He pointed to the chaise-longue, while Leonora made herself comfortable in the armchair directly opposite them.

On meeting Julian's eyes while he made the request, Melanie's had held a definite warning in them to watch his step or all his plans would come to nothing.

Not, she thought angrily, as she moved a fraction away from his close proximity, that he would take any notice of her wishes. She was just there to make the number up.

The conversation drifted on to subjects other than the one that had predominated at the dinner table, much to Melanie's relief, and in spite of herself she found Leonora's accounts of her past travels, prompted by Julian, full of interesting anecdotes.

Now she was able to understand why Celia was so fond of Leonora. There wasn't a vestige of cultural snobbery in her comments, and she was apt to play down her peculiar talent where paintings were concerned. Her thoughts on the matter were that it was a happy coincidence that she had taken after her father and had his gift for weeding out the wheat from the chaff, and Melanie felt herself warming to this undoubtedly clever but entirely unpretentious woman.

She had been so caught up with the conversation that she didn't notice that Julian's arm had slid unobtrusively along the edge of the chaise-longue and

now rested lightly around her waist, and when realisation did come, she was trapped in the position. Her body stiffened as she felt his arm tighten and draw her towards him.

It was at this precise moment that she caught a look of amusement in Leonora's eyes, quickly doused as she met Melanie's eye while she answered a question put to her by Julian about currency matters abroad. All the warmth Melanie had felt towards Leonora was dispelled in that one small but telling look. Melanie had felt miserable enough when envisaging the evening before them, but after having her fears so cunningly laid to rest, and now having to face them before an audience treating her as a beginner and just waiting for her to trip up was too much for her.

Enough was enough, she decided, and thought that they might as well have their money's worth. Suddenly she didn't care, why should she? Julian wanted to make Leonora jealous, didn't he? He had given her orders. He wasn't going to go for her this time for not showing enough attention to the part he had assigned her, as he had back at that hotel on the island when he had accused her of frigidity.

Without giving herself time to change her mind, Melanie relaxed her body, and she positively leaned on Julian, who, after the first startled realisation of her intention, glanced down at her quickly, to be met by what Melanie hoped was a simpering look of adoration.

She couldn't be absolutely sure, but she had a feeling that there was a glint of something other than amusement in his grey eyes as they passed swiftly over her face, and his grip tightened and was suddenly released as he got up. 'What would you like to drink, Leonora—your usual?' he queried.

Leonora nodded. 'Please,' she replied.

A variety of emotions went through Melanie's mind as both women watched Julian stride over to the drinks cabinet and prepare what looked like a kind of cocktail for Leonora. He hadn't, Melanie thought, asked what she would like, but she presumed he would get her a sherry.

Deep inside her she felt a sense of pure elation. She'd shown him, hadn't she? And he'd asked for it! There was no doubt that she was going to enjoy the rest of the evening, this time at Julian's expense. He probably had it all worked out. A touch here and there, an endearment or two, not too often, but with just the right inflection in his voice.

Melanie felt a compelling urge to giggle, but suppressed it immediately; this was a luxury she could allow herself later, certainly not now. Right now she had a job to do. She wasn't normally a vengeful person, but she would never get a chance like this again to repay all those uncomfortable moments he had given her during their association.

It was her turn now to call the tune and his to dance at her bidding, and how he would hate it! In all probability he would seek an early ending to the evening, and seek the sanctuary of his study to keep out of Melanie's way.

Her spirits soared a litle higher when she noticed that he had given himself a stiff whisky, no doubt to counter the effects of shock.

Leonora's quiet, 'Thank you,' when handed her glass was offset by Melanie's 'Thank you, darling,' as she received hers. She got a very sceptical look from Julian's grey eyes.

The conversation then moved on to the Venice trip that Leonora was taking with Celia, and Julian

listened gravely as Leonora outlined the tours she had in mind. He did not attempt to draw Melanie closer to him as he sat down beside her again, and although it was hardly noticeable, seemed to distance himself from any close contact with her.

`You ought to do the trip yourself,' said Leonora her eyes carefully on her drink. 'I'm sure that no matter how many times you visit Venice, you couldn't possibly cover everything. The trick is to know just where to go.'

Julian's eyes were on Melanie, who had assumed a fatuous expression of adoration as she gazed back at him. 'We'll have to see, won't we, Melanie?' he said.

Melanie's lovely eyes opened wide. 'Whatever you decide will be fine by me, darling,' she said in a simpering voice.

Julian, in the middle of swallowing a sip of his whisky, choked, and swiftly directed the conversation to other channels, such as what Leonora was going to do with herself if she had decided to put a stop to her globetrotting.

Melanie felt like the young lady who had taken her harp to a party and no one had asked her to play. It wasn't quite working out the way she wanted it to. She had certainly been successful in spiking Julian's guns, and giving him a few uncomfortable moments. He was going to have a devil of a job convincing Leonora that the marriage was purely platonic now, and she had no regrets on that score. He would succeed, of course, the word failure did not exist in his dictionary.

As she listened to Leonora's reply, she paid little attention to it. It was all play-acting for her benefit. Leonora's future was settled, whether she knew it or not, and Melanie believed that she did.

The evening did break up shortly afterwards, to the

relief of Melanie. Leonora had an early start in the morning, so begged to leave shortly after ten, and Melanie, not quite liking the look in Julian's eyes as he watched her saying goodnight to Leonora, had one foot on the step of the stairs as Leonora walked to the door. But to her consternation she found her wrist gripped by Julian's strong hand, his body preventing the action being seen by Leonora, who called to him as she reached the door. 'Just a few words, Julian,' she said, as she opened the door and went outside.

`You stay right where you are,' he said in a low ominous voice. 'If you go to your suite, don't bother to lock the door. I have a master key, and I'll use it if I have to.'

For a moment, Melanie stood gazing at his tall, straight back as he went to join Leonora, then, as the shock waves shot through her, she hared up the stairs to her rooms, first locking the door then pushing the heaviest chair she could find against it. Only then did she take a deep breath, and try to control her shaking limbs.

As her panic subsided, so sense regained the upper hand. What on earth was wrong with her, rushing up the stairs like a cornered virgin about to be ravaged? She shook her head, calmly pulled the chair away from the door, and unlocked it.

Was it wishful thinking on her part? she wondered. Julian Cridell didn't care one jot about her as a woman. The one he wanted was outside with him right now. As for Melanie, she had exceeded her duties, and any moment now she was going to be told so in no uncertain terms.

Her small chin lifted. Well, she wouldn't be the only one who heard a few home truths. She had asked to be relieved of her post, hadn't she? Ages ago, but it

hadn't suited his purpose. Perhaps now he would admit that it would have been better all round if he had listened to her.

She walked over to the window seat, wishing he would hurry up and get it off his chest. Opening the window, she leaned out a little to see if they had finished their tete-a-tete, and as she did so, Leonora's voice floated up to her. 'Look, Julian, I suppose you know your business, but is it really fair to her?' she said.

Melanie drew back swiftly, and softly closed the window. Her cheeks were red, and her eyes moist, and she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She wouldn't give way now. She would not let him see her like this. Somehow she had to face it out.

MELANIE glanced at the small bedside clock. It was now over twenty minutes since Julian had ordered her to await his return from seeing Leonora of the premises. In all probability he had escorted her home; he must have, she thought, although she had got the impression that what she had heard had been Leonora's final comments on their conversation.

By the time ten more minutes had passed, it finally got through to Melanie that he wasn't going to make that threatened call on her.

She had Leonora to thank for that, she thought mistily. She had obviously calmed the savage breast in the way that women in love had done through the ages. She had pleaded on Melanie's behalf, that much was plain, and although Melanie knew she ought to be grateful for the intervention, she wasn't at all. She didn't want to be beholden to Leonora in any way, and she hated the thought that Leonora was sorry for her. Although after that shameful exhibition of hers, it was small wonder that she pitied her. Melanie had been so intent on getting back at Julian, that she hadn't given a thought as to what Leonora would make of such behaviour. Now that she did, she almost cringed.

Now she hated herself, Leonora, and most of all, Julian !

The following morning, Melanie wasn't looking forward to joining Julian and Celia at the breakfast table; in fact, she was dreading it!

It was Monday, and she had five more days to get

through before Celia would be off on her trip to

Venice, after which she would be given her freedom.

Five days, at that time, felt more like five years to Melanie, as she got up slowly from her dressing table after giving her hair a last quick comb through. It hadn't needed it, but she was just playing for time, and a quick look at her wristwatch told her that she had no more time to play with; she was going to be slightly late as it was.

Her slightly breathless, 'Sorry,' as she took her place at the table was accepted with a slight nod from Julian, and a smile from Celia.

`No need to rush this morning, Melanie,' Celia told her. 'I'm playing hookey today. Leonora's taking me up to town with her; we're going on a shopping spree before the trip.'

Melanie forced herself to look interested. 'That'll be nice for you,' she said quietly, as she tried to work up an appetite for the breakfast Mrs Soames served her with.

`I shall be going to town myself, later,' said Julian, keeping his glance on the silver coffee pot he was holding as he poured himself a cup,' I'd take you with me, only I'm going to be pretty busy, I'm afraid,' he ended, sounding almost apologetic.

Melanie could have screamed. This was all for Celia's benefit, of course, and for a man who hated play-acting, he was doing remarkably well, she thought bitterly. She managed to murmur something on the lines that she would find plenty to do.

`Those letters, I suppose, that you were so keen to get done yesterday evening ?' said Julian, with a trace of sarcasm in his voice, and this time his eyes met Melanie's.

Melanie met that look and the sly insinuation with

dignity. 'Very probably,' she replied quietly.

When they had finished breakfast, a loud hooting in the drive announced the arrival of Leonora, and Celia, with a surprised look at her father, said, 'Good gracious, she's on time !' and made a dash upstairs for her coat while Julian went outside to talk to Leonora—fixing up an appointment for lunch, Melanie thought. He would find time for that, of course.

What was that to do with her? she asked herself crossly. She was getting paranoid over the whole business, and the sooner she was out of it all, the better for her, she thought, as she made her way to the old nursery. She might as well collect some of the books there and prepare tomorrow's lesson, that was if Leonora hadn't some other occupation in mind for her pupil, she thought angrily.

She pulled herself up sharply. There she went again ! Leonora had every right to Celia's company; she was going to be her stepmother, wasn't she? For Celia's sake, Melanie knew that she ought to welcome this thought, but it hurt.

She heard another hoot as she left the old nursery and walked down the passage towards the stairs on her way to her rooms. They were off, and soon Julian would be too, she thought, and was startled to hear his voice behind her.