Accidental Engagement (12 page)

Emmy hesitated.

‘What is it?’ Anna asked.

‘I’m sure it’s nothing . . . ’

‘But there is something?’

‘It’s just that - ‘ She seemed to come to a decision. ‘Well, I’m sure you
know all about it anyway. That is, you would know all about it if you could remember everything. You see, this isn’t the first time Mark has been engaged.’

Anna put down her coffee cup and pulled her towelling robe more closely round her. It had got suddenly colder. A breeze had sprung up.

‘It all seemed so suitable at the time,’ said Emmy, not noticing the change in her expression. ‘We were so pleased, Claire and I. We’d always wanted Mark to settle down, and had tried to introduce him to suitable young women - you see, we were always conscious of the fact that he didn’t have any parents, and so we tried to take on that rôle. Perhaps we tried too hard at times, but he never resented it. Or, at least, if he did, he never let us see it. He went along to all the parties in the neighbourhood, and we were always entertaining here, but somehow he never seemed to find anyone who was just right. ‘She finished her coffee. ‘Of course, I’ve often thought that his money didn’t help matters. It may sound trite, but it’s true that money can’t buy love. And it’s also true that money attracts the wrong kinds of people. Which is why we were so delighted when he met Janine.’ Emmy sighed. ‘She really was a lovely girl.’

Anna felt herself shrinking. ‘What happened?’ she asked.

Emmy pursed her lips. ‘I’m not altogether sure. They seemed to be getting on along so well together. They were trying to decide on a date for the wedding. Janine had already ordered her gown. And then it was called off.’

Anna swallowed the last mouthful of her coffee. It was bitter and cold. ‘Did . . . did Mark call it off, or did Janine?’

Emmy shook her head. ‘Again, I don’t know. He never talks about it. But
you see, if he’s moody with you it could be that he’s remembering his first engagement, the one that went wrong. It’s bound to leave its mark. Perhaps he even worries that the same thing might happen again.’

It was a plausible explanation, and
yet
it seemed too simple. Mark’s moods were too erratic to have been caused by something in the past. Weren’t they? She felt instinctively that they were caused by something in the present, but what it was she did not know.

It was clear that Emmy did not know either, and neither, she suspected, would Claire. It was just something she would have to try and work out for herself.

And with Mark, if he would let her.

‘Does she -’ Anna didn’t want to ask the question, but something compelled her. ‘Does she live around here? Janine, I mean.’

‘Oh, no, dear. She lives in
London
. She only visited here a couple of times. And it was all over more than a year ago.’

For which fact Anna was grateful. Because, despite the fact that Janine belonged to Mark’s past, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy at knowing he had already been engaged. She felt a sudden urge to ask Emmy what Janine had been like: blonde, brunette, tall, petite, pretty, not pretty: but she resisted it. There were some things in life it was probably better not to know.

‘But I’ve kept you here chatting and you’re not even dressed,’ said Emmy remorsefully. ‘No, don’t bother with that, dear,’ she said, as Anna began to clear the plates away. ‘I can see to it. You go on in before you catch your death.’

Anna smiled. Despite the breeze it was a glorious morning and she was hardly likely to catch a cold! But Emmy’s motherly fussing felt comfortable and she accepted it in the kindly spirit in which it was meant.

Mark was troubled as he walked into the drawing-room later that morning. He knew he couldn’t let things go on as they had been doing, but he was finding it difficult to know how best to confront the problem. If Anna had faked her accident then he didn’t object to her spending time at Little Brook, whatever her reasons might be. But if she was the innocent victim of an accident, as he was beginning more and more to believe, then he had no right to keep up the pretence.

‘Oh, Mark.’ Claire called out to him as she put down the phone. ‘That was Cousin Roddy. He’s had another fall. Quite a bad one this time. His foot’s in plaster and he’s feeling down in the dumps. Would you and Anna mind if Emmy and I spent a few days with him? I don’t like abandoning guests, but Roddy’s not getting any younger and something like this could sink his spirits. I don’t want him getting depressed again: it took him a long time to get back to normal the last time he was ill - you know how he’s always hated being cooped up indoors.’

‘Of course not.’ Mark tried to keep the relief out of his voice. With Emmy and Claire out of the house it would be so much easier to confront Anna, and deal with whatever situation his challenge provoked. ‘When do you -’

‘Did I hear the phone?’ Emmy asked as she followed Mark into the room, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. Although she had not been able to hear Claire’s conversation from the morning room she had been able to tell that something was wrong by Claire’s tone of voice and, throwing down the magazine she had been looking at, she had hurried to hear the news.

‘Roddy,’ said Claire succinctly. ‘He’s had another fall. I said we’ll go and stay for a few days.’

‘Oh, dear. He does so hate being ill in any way. And what a time for it to happen. But still, it will give Mark and Anna some time to themselves. I’d better go and see to the packing. When did you say we’d be there?’

‘Tomorrow morning. In time for lunch.’

‘Good. Then that gives us time to prepare, without being in a rush.’

As they left the room, Mark knew that the next twenty-four hours would make or b
reak his relationship with Anna.
A
nd he found himself wondering whether the next-four hours would bring him and Anna closer together, or thrust them violently apart.

Freshened up after her swim, Anna was in the morning room. Mark had gone into
Nottingham
to make some preliminary arrangements for the opening of the new branch of Raynor Enterprises, whilst Emmy and Claire were busy packing for their unforeseen visit to Roddy. With time on her hands, Anna was looking at a collection of magazines on local life. It was a surprisingly complete collection, going back over many years to the very first issue. Mark’s family were obviously rooted in the area and proud of
the county in which they lived,
a
county
Anna
hoped to learn more about. She looked along the shelves of magazines, noting that they were meticulously arranged. The first issue was to the left of the top shelf, whilst the most recent one was on the bottom shelf, in the middle, with room for future issues to the right. As she ran her fingers along the spines, she noticed that one was missing. She was surprised, wondering what had happened to the missing month.

And then she caught sight of it beside the magazine rack, where Emmy had thrown it down in haste. She picked it up and leafed through it. Articles on local events were printed side by side with poems from local authors and illustrations by local artists. Adverts for hotels and restaurants competed for attention with advertisements from local solicitors and beauticians. She became absorbed in an item about the history of
Ye Old Trip to Jerusalem
,
Nottingham
’s famous ancient inn, and then turned the page - to find herself staring at a photograph of, among other people, Mark. She smiled. He was looking incredibly handsome in the photograph; happy and relaxed. It had obviously been taken at some society event. He was dressed in a morning coat, and she guessed the occasion had been a wedding, a guess confirmed by the caption underneath.
Among the guests at the wedding were Mr and Mrs Patrick Needham, Miss Lauren Staines, and Mr Mark Raynor with Miss Janine Winston, his beautiful fiancée.

Anna felt her heart begin to beat more quickly.

So that was Janine.

Up until that morning she had never heard of Janine, and now here she was, not two hours later, with a photograph of Mark’s first love in her hands. It was not difficult to guess what had happened. Emmy, having been reminded of Janine, had also been reminded of the photograph and had taken it out,
wanting to look at it once more,
before casting the magazine aside when she had heard Claire’s worried voice on the phone.

Anna looked at the photograph more closely. The woman who smiled back at her was beautiful. Petite and slender, she was dressed in a sleeveless cocktail dress and wore an extravagant hat. Her arm was around Mark’s waist, and his arm was around her shoulder. They made a handsome pair.

Anna felt a stab of pain as she saw how happy they looked. What had happened? she wondered. Why had Mark broken off his engagement with such a beautiful blonde? Or
had
he broken it off? Had it in fact been he who had ended the relationship, or had it been Janine?

Anna had only questions, and no answers.

She put the magazine back in the rack and tried to put it out of her mind, but the happy smiles of Mark and Janine seemed to follow her. So much so, that by the time Mark returned from town she was obviously distracted.

‘Is something wrong?’ he asked with a frown.

‘Hmmm?’ she prevaricated.

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

Tell me about Janine. Tell me you don’t still love her. Tell me she isn’t the cause of your moods. Tell me you love me. Hold me, kiss me, reassure me
. ‘Don’t be silly. Did you get everything you wanted?’

‘Yes. You don’t mind Emmy and Claire abandoning us
tomorrow?’ he asked, as though
wondering whether she was uncomfortable at the
idea
of being in the house alone with him.

She gave him a warm smile. ‘Oh, no. In fact, I can’t wait.’

He gave her a searching look. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Neither can I.’

Mr Harvey was as good as his word. Just after
half past eleven
the ring arrived. It was beautifully presented, the small, expensive box engraved with Anna and Mark’s intertwined initials.

Delaying the giving of the ring until he had confronted Anna about her accident was not an option for Mark. Emmy and Claire both knew it had arrived, and were eager to see it. Going into the drawing-room, Mark handed Anna the box. ‘Go ahead,’ he said as she hesitated. ‘Open it.’

She undid the parcel and opened the box inside. The ring was nestled there in its velvet slot.

‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ said Claire appreciatively.

What was Janine’s ring like?
wondered Anna, before dismissing the thought as unworthy. Whatever Mark’s relationship with Janine it was in the past. Her relationship with him was in the present, and she wasn’t going to allow it to be soured by worrying needlessly about something that was already dead.

She took the ring carefully out of its setting.

‘
My, but it’s lovely,’ said Emmy, with glistening eyes.

Anna held the ring up for them to look at. It shone and glittered as it caught the light. Having had her precious time alone with Mark when they had chosen the ring she was happy to share this moment, knowing how pleased Emmy and Claire were that he was finally going to marry and settle down.

Then Mark took the ring from her and slipped it on her finger.

It was a moment of pure pleasure for Anna. But little did she know that that pleasure was shortly to be ripped apart.

‘We have to talk.’

Anna, balancing precariously on the arm of a chair in the sitting room, was hanging a new pair of curtains. Emmy and Claire had left to visit their elderly cousin that morning and would not be back until the following day. There would never be a better time for him to confront Anna and find out the truth.

‘What about?’ She continued to thread the hooks through the rings on the curtain rail, whilst the yellow-gold curtain lay draped over her arm like some kind of oriental dragon. The new curtains had been waiting to go up for some time, and when Emmy had mentioned that they were to go in the sitting room Anna had decided to put them up as a surprise.

‘You shouldn’t be doing that. You’re still bruised from the accident.’

‘I can’t sit still all day long,’ she said. ‘Besides, it will only take a few minutes.’

‘And shouldn’t you be wearing more than a bath robe?’ he asked.

She threw him a tantalising glance. ‘Why, don’t you like it?’

‘I love it. But I find it - distracting.’ The silky robe, in a delicate shade of apricot, was held together by nothing more than a belt tied round the waist. As she moved it split open above the knee to reveal several inches of inner thigh. He turned his eyes resolutely away from the alluring sight and fixed them on her face. It wouldn’t do to become distracted - however tempting it might be. ‘Do you need
a hand?’

‘No.’ She put one foot onto the window sill and tested it to see if it would take her weight. ‘I’ve nearly done.’