A Bad Enemy (17 page)

'How unfortunate,' he said too pleasantly. 'Because our little chat seems to have revived me completely. Perhaps I no longer want to leave you to your own devices for the remainder of the evening.'

Alarm was flaring along her nerve-endings, sending disquieting prickles down her spine. Her voice was steely. 'I'd be glad if you'd get out.'

'I'm sure you would. In fact, you'd probably be delighted if you could make me vanish completely with one snap of your fingers.' He took a step towards her. 'Only I'm not vanishing, Lisle. Not now. Not later.'

She recoiled, stumbling over the trailing hem of her robe, and sinking ignominiously to her knees on the pile of sweaters she'd let fall to the floor earlier.

Jake laughed. 'Now who's begging?'

'Leave me alone!' she shouted, as he reached down to pull her to her feet again. 'Don't you lay a finger on me!'

'I'm going to lay a damned sight more than that on you,' he grated, molten anger searing in his voice.

Lisle shuddered, shrinking away from him. 'Jake— please! You—you said you were going to wait—until we were married. You said so.'

'Then here's the first lesson of the evening—it isn't only women who are allowed to change their minds.' His hands slid inexorably beneath her arms, lifting her.

'No!' Her hands flailed wildly at his chest 'I'll hate you!'

'Tell me something new.' He bent his head, kissing her savagely, grinding the softness of her mouth against her teeth with unyielding passion. He dragged the neckline of her robe apart, his hands seeking her breasts, caressing the hardening peaks until she sobbed aloud in passionate torment. He said hoarsely, 'But one way or another, Lisle, I'll make you admit that you want this as much as I do.'

It was true. It was true. How could she deny it when her whole body was yielding faintingly against his? Yet that one admission, if uttered, might bring others, infinitely more damaging, tumbling from her trembling lips.

He tossed her down on to the bed, and she lay there looking up at him, dredging up from deep inside her some of the old insolence and bravado, forcing a smile to her mouth.

'This—yes.' She let her hands drift caressingly down her body, watching his eyes darken sensually as she did so. 'But not—you, Not particularly. Unfortunate, isn't it?'

He was very still suddenly, incredulity warring with anger in his unmasked expression!

He said quietly, 'Unfortunate for you, certainly, if you think it makes the slightest difference to me or our bargain then think again.'

Lisle allowed her eyes to widen contemptuously. 'You mean you don't care?'

'If I had any illusions about you, beauty, I might.'

His smile was thin-lipped. 'As it is…' His glance flicked her before he turned away. 'Sleep well, my bride-to-be.'

She lay for a long time looking at the closed door, feeling the ache deep in her body, and wishing with a kind of futile weariness that the temporary oblivion of sleep would claim her.

It was late, and he was long gone by the time Lisle stumbled downstairs in the morning, Mrs Peterson exclaimed at her pallor and suggested a day's rest would do her good, but Lisle could imagine nothing worse than more silent hours spent in her bedroom, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out a way to escape from the emotional maze she was trapped in.

She had half wondered if there might be a message waiting for her from Jake, at least to tell her when she could next expect to see him, but there was nothing, and she felt she couldn't ask the housekeeper if he had given any indication as to when he'd be visiting the Priory again. Mrs Peterson would think it distinctly odd for her to be so ignorant of her fiancè's plans.

She worked in the garden for a couple of hours. It was a dry misty day with all the threat of winter in the chilly breeze, but the fresh air and exercise helped revive her.

After lunch, she went to see Murray. She had expected him to question her over her decision to leave Harlow Bannerman, but to her surprise he seemed to regard it as a natural consequence of her engagement.

'There are a great many arrangements to be made, details to be worked out,' he said, frowning.

Lisle put her hand over his. 'Not that many. It's going to be a very quiet wedding. We—we both want it that way.'

He gave her a suspicious look. 'Why, for heaven's sake? Anyone would think you were ashamed! I'm not giving my only granddaughter away at some hole-and-corner affair.'

'And I'm not playing the leading role in a public performance, even if it is stage-managed by you,' she returned calmly.

For a moment his scowl deepened, and then he gave a bark of laughter. 'Well, have it your own way, I suppose.'

'What a concession!' she teased. 'While you're being so submissive, can I ask you to place an embargo on non-family visitors. Sister stopped me on the way in to complain. She said there was a never-ending stream of people in here yesterday.'

Murray's shaggy brows snapped together. 'Interfering busybody of a woman!'

'It's her job to interfere. She's trying to get you well. We all thought it was what you wanted too.' Lisle looked at him steadily. 'Who were all these people, anyway?'

He shrugged defensively. 'Advisers in various capacities. I'm not in charge at Harlow Bannerman any more, but I do have other things in the pipeline which have been neglected while I've been lying here.'

'Then they should stay neglected. You need
rest
.'

He gave a satisfied smile. 'And now I shall have it. I've dealt with the outstanding matters. All I need to do now is get strong for the wedding.' He studied her face. 'Perhaps you should do the same. You looked like a ghost when you came in just now. I want to see you looking radiant.'

'If I use all my radiance now, I'll have none left for the wedding.' Lisle made herself smile. 'Jake tells me his mother is coming to England very soon. I thought I'd invite her to stay at the Priory.'

'Splendid,' Murray approved. 'She'll be company for you.'

Will she? Lisle wondered ironically. The prospect of the visit was an alarming one, and she was taking nothing for granted. She had little doubt that Mrs Allard would have found the suddenness of her son's decision to marry puzzling at the very least.

The days went past slowly, with Lisle trapped between boredom and loneliness. There were a couple of guarded phone calls from Gerard which confirmed that Harlow Bannerman was being turned inside out and upside down. He sounded depressed and even a little hostile, so she forbore to press him for details. And he never mentioned Carla Foxton, so perhaps that affair was a thing of the past—or so Lisle fervently hoped. She had wondered once or twice whether she should have passed on to Gerard Jake's words of warning, but on balance had decided against it. There was little doubt in her mind that the covert hostility she had sensed was aimed at Jake, whom her brother regarded as the author of most of his wrongs.

Oliver Grayson had telephoned too, but Lisle had been out for a walk when his call came through, and she decided not to return it. It seemed safer on a number of counts, she thought wryly, remembering a time when safety had not mattered.

But it wasn't only Harlow Bannerman which had been turned inside out and upside down…

Each day she waited for Jake to ring, and when no call came she remained on tenterhooks until evening, waiting for the car to appear. Only it didn't.

At least he found the time to phone the hospital each day, she discovered. Murray relayed odd pieces of information with evident satisfaction, obviously assuming that she and Jake were constantly in touch. Lisle didn't disillusion him. He was taking his enforced leisure more easily now, and there was even an air of satisfaction about him which might be because the consultant in charge of his case had intimated he might be allowed home fairly soon.

And once he was home, there would be no earthly reason for the wedding to be delayed; Lisle thought, her heart thudding in a strange sick mixture of excitement and panic. That was, of course, if there was going to be a wedding. Perhaps the prolonged silence was an indication that Jake was having second thoughts, but was reluctant to announce his decision before Murray was completely restored to health. Her own feelings, of course, wouldn't count, because she wasn't supposed to have any, unless it was pique and a mercenary regret that she had allowed a rich man to slip through her fingers.

It wasn't a train of thought conducive to a tranquil mind and restful nights, but then she had relinquished all hope of either almost from the first moment that Jake had entered her life.

She was working off some excess spleen by pruning the roses to within an inch of their lives when Mrs Peterson came to tell her that Mr Allard's office wanted to speak to her on the phone.

She flew into the house, only to be brought down to earth with a bang when she heard Mrs Pearce's friendly tones greeting her.

'How are you, Miss Bannerman? Mr Allard has had to go to the States, but he wanted to let you know that his mother will be here on Tuesday, and will be holding a small dinner party at her hotel in the evening. He hopes you haven't already made arrangements for that night.'

There had been a time, Lisle thought, when her engagement diary had been crammed for weeks ahead. It probably could be again, if only that was what she wanted.

She said in a small wooden voice, 'No, that will be fine. What hotel is Mrs Allard staying at?'

Mrs Pearce gave her the information, but Lisle could hear the note of surprise in her voice. Presumably she had been expected to know where her future mother-in-law was staying.

Later Lisle telephoned Janie and arranged to change and afterwards sleep at the flat on Tuesday.

'You can even collapse if you want to,' Janie's voice lilted along the line. 'What's Mamma like? Very formidable?'

Lisle stared through the library window at a leafless shrub.

'I don't know,' she admitted wearily. 'I suppose time alone will show.'

'Of course, I keep forgetting that this isn't exactly a conventional courtship,' said Janie. 'Under normal circumstances, you'd be on terms with all his family and friends by now.' She paused. 'He must be very busy. Graham said today that Harlow Bannerman share prices are rising nicely, almost rocketing in fact. You're marrying the Midas touch, darling. Aren't you gratified?'

Lisle smiled rather wanly. 'I think my feelings can most accurately be described as mixed.'

By the time Tuesday evening arrived, the mixture had congealed into nervous edginess. She travelled up to London during the afternoon and had her hair done at her favourite salon.

Jake had still not come back from his trip when she had phoned rather apprehensively to tell him she was staying at the flat overnight. She had half expected a return call forbidding her to do any such thing, but none had been forthcoming.

She received a heartening welcome from Janie, who was full of plans for her impending move. The unknown Anita, it seemed, had proved more than amenable.

'Not as glamorous an address as here,' said Janie, looking round with a smile as they drank coffee together in the kitchenette. 'But you can't win them all. And this was wonderful while it lasted—or I always thought so, at least. But I was never too sure about you. It seemed to me that a lot of the time, and particularly during the latter months, you were just— going through the motions. That you'd have been just as happy down at the Priory.'

Lisle stared down at her cup. 'Perhaps,' she said noncommittally.

How odd, she thought, that she and Janie should have lived together for those months, conducting a perfectly amiable but surface relationship, and only now, when they were apart, discovering these perceptions about each other.

She bathed, and wrapped in Janie's dressing gown took a long careful time to apply her cosmetics. She had just finished when there was a long imperative ring at the doorbell.

Lisle stared at herself, seeing her natural colour paling under the dusting of blusher. It had to be Jake, even though he was much too early, and probably angry with her. She opened the door, her heart sinking, and stared incredulously.

'Gerard? My word—what's happened? Has there been an accident?'

Her brother's face seemed a mask of blood, and there were deep stains on his shirt and suit, which was damp and muddy. He was sagging as if his legs wouldn't support him against Oliver Grayson.

'No accident,' said Oliver. 'He isn't too coherent, but it appears he's been mugged. I'd called in at that wine bar near the office, and when I came out I heard a groan and found him lying in the little alley at the side.'

'But he should have gone to a hospital,' Lisle protested, pressing trembling hands to her cheeks.

Oliver shook his head. 'He absolutely refused. Insisted on being brought here, even though I reminded him you were down in the country.'

From behind Lisle, Janie said, 'You'd better bring him in. Put him on the sofa. Lisle, you'd better call his doctor.'

Gerard said suddenly, 'No—not him. Don't want him to see me.'

Oliver guided him into the sitting room, where he collapsed on to the sofa with a faint groan.

Janie bit her lip. 'I'll phone Tom,' she said. Her brother was a houseman at a London teaching hospital. 'If he's not on duty, I know he'll come.' She turned to Gerard. 'Will that be all right? We can clean you up, but we've got to make sure no real damage has been done.'

There was a pause, then a sullen, 'Yes.'

Lisle sank down on the floor beside him and took his hand. 'Poor love, how awful! Did you catch sight of them? Would you know them again?'

Gerard gave a small cracked laugh. 'It was Foxton. He was waiting for me. He seemed all tight at first, then he just swung at me. I—fell down, and he kicked me.'

Lisle shuddered, and there was an expression of deep distaste on Oliver Grayson's face. He glanced at his watch.

'Unless there's anything else I can do, Lisle, I think I'll go. I have an engagement this evening, and I'm going to be late…'

'Yes, of course.' Lisle jumped up. 'I—I can't thank you enough, Oliver. You've been very kind.'