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Authors: Mary Burchell

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1960

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CHAPTER FIVE

Until the moment
when Charmian Deal astonishingly bade her “leave Michael alone,” Ruth had not supposed that he represented anything special in her life. But no sooner had the insulting words been uttered than—so perverse and inexplicable is human nature—she immediately felt a degree of interest in him hitherto unsuspected.

Experience in the reception desk at the Excelsior had not been without its moments of training in the delicate art of rebuking blank rudeness. And Ruth, though friendly and peaceable by nature, was not without pride. She did not make the mistake of rushing into flustered defense. Instead, she drew a deep breath, looked the other girl in the eye and said, with disconcerting coolness, “Michael is more or less a family connection of mine, and I shall be as friendly as I like toward him, without consulting you. Now get out of my dressing room and don’t come back unless I invite you in. I don’t like you and I think you’re a bore.”

Charmian caught her breath on an incredulous gasp. For, while she quite enjoyed being considered offensive or unlikable by her own sex, to be told flatly and confidently by anyone, however inconsiderable, that she was a bore was stinging beyond belief, and something that had not previously happened in her pampered and successful passage through life.

“You’ll be sorry for this, you know,” she said, almost conversationally. “If you think you can take Michael away from me—”

“I don’t think so—necessarily,” Ruth interrupted dryly. “The suggestion was yours. But you shouldn’t put ideas into my head.” And she laughed suddenly, with mischievous and uninhibited enjoyment. “I might try them out.”

The other girl’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You don’t believe that I can make trouble for you, do you?”

Ruth shrugged.

“You think that because you’ve made a little success on
TV
—” with a contemptuous thumb and forefinger she measured the pitiable degree of Ruth’s success “—you can give yourself airs and stand up to
me.”

“No,” Ruth said quietly. “That isn’t at all the way my mind works, if you want to know. This quarrel was none of my seeking. But I have no intention of being spoken to as you’ve spoken to me. If you don’t like the way I answered, you have only yourself to blame. Now please go away.”

Somewhat to her surprise, and greatly to her relief, Charmian did then take herself off. But not, Ruth thought, in any mood of contrition.

Left alone, she gave an angry little laugh and ran a slightly unsteady hand through her bright hair.

It was all so ridiculous—and so unprovoked. As though she cared anything about Michael—or wanted to take him away from Charmian—or anyone else, come to that. She was not even interested in him. Or hardly at all.

It isn’t even as though he’s madly good-looking,
Ruth thought.
Not like Angus, for instance. Though, of course, he’s tall and well set up. And he did look rather attractive in those horn-rimmed glasses this morning, oddly enough. And sometimes he has a very nice, humorous way of smiling. Like the time he said we were more or less cousins.

She smiled to herself at that recollection, realizing that the unexpected assertion must have made a good deal of impression on her, for it had sprung to mind immediately in the moment of crisis, and given her the idea for a very effective retort to Charmian. Though, of course, she reflected in parenthesis, if Aunt Henrietta were n
o
t really Aunt Henrietta, then even that tenuous connection with Michael went by the board.

But it sounded good when I said it,
Ruth decided.
And it’s quite a useful attitude to maintain. If Michael is to be regarded as a sort of cousin, then I’m perfectly entitled to be

well, friendly and informal toward him
.

And all at once—possibly on account of Charmian’s behavior, or possibly on account of other reasons, which she did not for the moment seek to specify—she decided that she
wanted
to be friendly and informal toward Michael.

At this point Flossie appeared to say that Ruth was once more required in the studio. And amused and stimulated by the decision she had just taken, Ruth emerged from the dressing room with a smiling self-possession that seemed to excite her companion’s approval.

“You walk with quite an air,” Flossie remarked in a friendly sort of tone. “Done any rep work, or anything like that, in your time?”

“Rep work?” Ruth was mystified.

“Yes. Repertory theater. You come from the provinces, don’t you?”

“I do,” Ruth agreed. “But I’ve never had anything to do with a repertory theater. I’m a receptionist at a hotel.”

“You don’t say!” Flossie’s eyebrows—what there was of them—rose. “You’re wasted.”

And on this note—flattering or regretful, she was not quite sure which—Ruth was returned to the studio.

The others were already assembled and, carefully avoiding even so much as a glance in the direction of Charmian, Ruth slipped into a vacant chair beside Angus. He gave her a friendly, if absent, nod, and then the work of the afternoon began.

It involved a good deal of tiresome repetition, and once or twice it seemed, even to Ruth, that Angus was hard to please. But just as tempers were beginning to fray, he pronounced himself more or less satisfied, and the rehearsal was at an end.

“Four-thirty on Monday, in this studio for a final run
-
through,” he told them all. “Performance at seven, as you know.”

“Won’t you want us at all tomorrow?” Ruth inquired.

“Not professionally, my sweet.” Angus gave her his very special smile. Then he added, in a lower, more intimate tone of voice, “I’ll give you a call in the morning. Unfortunately, I can’t get away this evening. I thought I could. But there’s an important program conference and I have to be there.”


That’s all right,” Ruth reassured him with a smile. “I can’t imagine that I’ll be at a loss for something to do.”


Has Aunt Henrietta exciting plans for you?” he inquired.

“Not so far as I know, but—” Suddenly she saw that Charmian had drawn near and was listening in an unobtrusive sort of way, and immediately some wicked and hitherto unsuspected impulse prompted her to add, “I daresay Michael will want to take me out somewhere.”

“Harling?” Charmian was not the only one to find that unpalatable, it seemed, for Angus frowned quickly. “I didn’t know he was one of your beaux.”

“Oh, well, he—he’s a sort of cousin, you know.” Pacifically, Ruth resorted once more to this now threadbare theory, but without much success.

“Cousin?” Angus’s tone repudiated the relationship absolutely. “He’s no more your cousin that Aunt Henrietta is the person she’s pretending to be.”

“You mustn’t say things like that!” Ruth spoke sharply, for she was aware that Charmian’s attention was even more completely focused upon them. “There’s no proof of any pretense.”

“But I told you—”

“I must go now,” Ruth interrupted firmly. “Give me a ring in the morning, and I’ll see what I can arrange.”

And more curtly than she would really have wished, she nodded to Angus in farewell and went off, aware that he looked after her, surprised and apparently somewhat chilled by this summary leave-taking.

I’ll have to impress on him that he mustn’t talk so carelessly about Aunt Henrietta,
she thought vexedly.
That girl heard everything, and she’s perfectly capable of storing up information and turning it to her own account later.

It was a disturbing thought. And as Ruth left the building and went out into the autumn sunshine, she felt vaguely guilty. As though she had in some way betrayed Aunt Henrietta.

She was not very sure of her whereabouts at first, since
she had been brought to the studios by car. But it was a pleasant novelty to be abroad on her own in London for the very first time, and she strolled along happily until—she was not quite sure how—she found herself in Piccadilly.

Here she lingered to do some enjoyable window
-
shopping, was beguiled still further by the shops in Bond Street, and was standing gazing enraptured into the windows of a china shop when a familiar voice said beside her, “Hello. Have they let you out of school early?”

“Michael!” She turned, with a sense of pleasure so acute that it surprised her. “Where on earth did you spring from?”

“My office, which is quite near here,” he told her, and the way he smiled down at her somehow conveyed to her that she was looking extraordinarily pretty. “I thought you were rehearsing most of the day.”

“The afternoon rehearsal finished early,” she explained. “At least—everyone seemed to think it had gone on quite long enough, and Angus was more or less satisfied, so we were allowed to go. To anyone like myself, with strict office hours, it seems slightly wicked and immensely enjoyable to be out at this time in the afternoon.”

“Then what about completing the impression by coming and having tea with me?” he suggested.

“But—have you time?”


I
also want to feel that I’m doing something slightly wicked and immensely enjoyable,” he assured her, at which she laughed.

“I’d love it! Where shall we go?”

“The Ritz is just around the corner,” he told her. “Or—”

“The Ritz?” She breathed the magic name in slightly hushed tones. “Oh, that would be wonderful.
Won’t
Susannah be thrilled!”

“Susannah?” He looked inquiring. “Where does she come into this?”

“At Susannah’s age one takes a vicarious delight in everything one’s elder sister does,” she explained indulgently.

“I suppose one does.” He, too, smiled indulgently. But the indulgence was not for Susannah. “Let’s go to the Ritz, then.”

So they went to the Ritz, and Ruth found herself sitting opposite Michael Harling, pouring tea for him and handing cakes, just as though he really were her cousin and not—as he once had seemed—the disagreeably strict man from headquarters who thought Mr. Naylor, her immediate employer, was too easy with her.

“I take it the day went satisfactorily?” He smiled at Ruth as he took his cup and saucer from her hand.

“Oh, yes. There were awkward moments, of course. I suppose there always are when one’s trying to mold a number of very varied people into a harmonious whole. But Angus is really clever at that sort of thing.” And the slightly deepened note in her voice paid tribute to Angus’s gifts.

“I’m sure he is.” There was no deepening note in Michael’s voice. “How does Charmian fit into things? Did you and she make friends with each other?”

Ruth wanted to say that Charmian was not the sort of girl who made friends with other girls. But remembering that it was neither polite nor kind to speak slightingly to a man about someone he admired, she swallowed, smiled and said, “There wasn’t much opportunity to get together. Most of the time we were in the studio with several other people. And of course she’s a real pro, while I’m very much an amateur.”

“Is the dividing line drawn so very sharply, then?” he inquired amusedly.

“It is rather,” said Ruth, thinking how sharply Charmian had drawn it.

“But all the same—you might cross it?” he suggested.

“I?” Ruth was genuinely astonished. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve done quite well on the two occasions Angus wanted to use me, but there really hasn’t been much to it, you know, except speaking clearly, moving reasonably well and managing to look pleasant and not unintelligent.”

“Couldn’t that be developed very usefully into something more?”

“No. I don’t think so.” Ruth thought for a moment of what Flossie had said, and smiled. “Everyone is very nice
and complimentary. But I can’t think that there aren’t a great many girls who could have done just as well, given the opportunity. It just happened that Angus knew me.” He laughed at that and looked amused again.

“You have a most refreshingly commonsense outlook, Ruth,” he said. “I believe that’s half your attraction.”

She seemed to remember Angus saying something similar. Only, being Angus, he had put it in a way that thrilled one more.

“All the same,” he went on, “if you did have a chance to go further—I mean, if there were a real opening—”

He paused, and Ruth said eagerly, “Yes?”

“I think Aunt Henrietta would be very glad to help you.”

“Aunt Henrietta?” Ruth immediately felt uncomfortable. “But—how could she help me?”

“I suppose—financially.”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t want that,” Ruth exclaimed. “I mean—it wouldn’t be necessary, anyway. I have a good job and a family—and anyway, I haven’t any ambitions to go further with this television business.”

“No?” He seemed unimpressed by her vehemence. “Then that settles it, of course.”

“Did she—say anything to you about this?” Ruth inquired.

“Yes, she did, as a matter of fact. Last night—when I was taking her home. She seemed to think that, as a result of this contact with Angus Everto
n
, you might be offered some opening. But that possibly you would need training of some sort—and that there might be an awkward period when you had left one job but were not quite ready for the new one. In such circumstances, I think she would be very glad to help.”

“It’s most awfully kind of her.” Ruth hoped she had not sounded ungracious before. “But
really
the occasion won’t arise.”

“Then there’s no need to worry about it further.” He looked at her slightly flushed face, half puzzled, half amused. “Do you dislike the idea very much?”

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