Ivory Innocence (16 page)

"I want to show you off," he said, looking askance at one daringly low-cut dress, "but not too much of you."

He was certainly possessive, but Ivory found herself glorying in it. He was more relaxed than she had ever seen him, seeming younger and more carefree. She was convinced that soon she would break right through his shell and rid him of his demon forever.

When they returned to the Hall, Matthew said that he needed to have a word with Angus Firth, the estate manager, and would walk up to Home Farm.

Getting ready for their dinner date, Ivory took a bath and washed her hair, then polished her nails. The new dress fit like a glove over her filmiest underwear.

When she was ready, Ivory decided to say good night to Janey, vaguely worried by the length of her husband's absence. He had been gone more than two hours, but presumably he had had a lot to discuss with Angus Firth.

She didn't hear him coming. The door opened and he was there. Ivory saw his grim expression in the mirror and swung round, alarmed. His frown was terrifying; his eyes glowed with contained fury in his dark face and the devil stared at her with open hostility.

"Matthew?" she breathed, a hand creeping to her throat.

"Making yourself beautiful?" he growled. "For me? How kind of you, Mrs. Kendrake. You do it really well, you know. All that creamy innocence. I'm lost in admiration for your guile."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Ivory gasped.

"No? Then let me explain. Guess who I ran into in the lane: your old friend Rob Garth. Right by the cottage I've been having rebuilt because it was damaged by fire last year."

Her face went pale as she stood up, her thoughts in turmoil. What had Rob said to him?

"Ah, I see you understand me," Matthew said, his voice low and menacing. "It's strange, don't you think, that you've never thought to mention the fact that your grandparents were tenants of this estate? That you yourself were brought up not a hundred yards from where we're standing now?"

"I, I didn't think it was important," she faltered.

"Obviously you did, or you wouldn't have bothered to keep it secret. Did you think I was unaware of what the whole village thought of my uncle? They detested him, because their minds had been poisoned by a wicked old woman who—"

"She wasn't a wicked old woman!" Ivory broke in. "She was angry, justifiably angry, for her husband's sake. My grandfather was ruined by your uncle. He owned this Hall, and the estate, until his good friend George Kendrake tricked him out of them. This had been Meldrum land for ages."

His frown deepened, his eyes flashing blue sparks as he strode across the carpet and laid his hands round her pale throat, holding her so that she daren't move. "I could kill you, Ivory!" he said in a charged undertone. "You know that? I could snap your pretty little neck in two. You came here deliberately to humiliate me, didn't you? To get the last laugh on a Kendrake! Worming your way in here, getting at me through Janey. God, it was clever! Well, now you've got what you wanted. You're back at Hedley Hall, where you appear to think you belong."

Ivory flung up her hands to grasp his wrists, trying to free the grip on her shoulders. Fear and fury waged war inside her as she stared up at him with gray eyes almost eclipsed by the blackness of her pupils. "You won't hurt me, Matthew. Kendrakes don't act in the open. They plot and connive. Like your uncle plotted against my grandfather. If I've done the same, can you blame me?"

He released her as if her skin burned him. He swore at her, eloquently and obscenely, making Ivory wince at the crudity in his voice. Then he turned on his heel and went out, slamming the door behind him.

Closing her eyes against the well of hot tears, Ivory listened for some sound from Janey's room. If he had awakened the child… But the house remained silent. A short while later she heard the Mercedes' engine snarl as it sped away.

Sinking back onto the dressing stool, Ivory wept helplessly. Why had this had to happen now, when she and Matthew had almost reached an understanding? The day had been filled with joy, and now everything lay in ruins.

Eventually she calmed herself, washed her face and took off the new dress, deliberately substituting her oldest pair of jeans and a shapeless sweater. It was an act of defiance that made her feel better. When Matthew came back, she would show him she was no pretty plaything but a woman with a mind of her own. She would make him listen.

As she went down the stairs, the telephone rang. Mrs. Barnes came hurrying from the rear of the house.

"I'll get it," Ivory said.

The housekeeper looked worriedly at her mistress's swollen eyes and decided to hold her tongue, returning to her own territory.

"Hedley Hall," Ivory said into the mouthpiece.

"Ivory?" It was Corin Forsythe. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything is just dandy, thank you, Corin. Why?"

"Just wondered. There was a phone call a while ago. Carla went off to meet someone. She said she was seeing Matthew, but… She couldn't be, could she?"

Throwing a hand to her stinging eyes, Ivory leaned against the wall. "Is your sister given to lying?"

"She's not the most truthful person in the world, but… Look here, you sound a bit strained. Had a bit of a fight, have you? Do you want me to come round? After all, we never had a chance to finish what we started that night at the party."

"No, thank you, Corin," she said angrily. "In the future, I'd be grateful if you'd stay out of my affairs." She slammed the receiver down. No doubt she had offended him, but it didn't seem to matter.

If Matthew had gone straight to Carla's arms then nothing else mattered in the whole world.

She lay awake until the early hours and finally fell into a restless sleep, disturbed by nightmares in which nameless horrors kept separating her from her husband. When she awoke, she heard the shower running and leapt out of bed, seeing his clothes slung across the couch-bed in the dressing room. Had he just come in, after spending the night with Carla? Unaware that she looked haggard, Ivory waited unhappily for him to finish in the bathroom.

He came out wearing only a small towel draped round his waist. He looked at her, and without a word threw off the towel and began to dress as if she were not there. Ivory stretched out a shaking hand to touch his bare back, but he wrenched away from her, the blue devil in his eyes darting hatred at her.

"We can't go on like this," she said brokenly. "We've got to talk. It's true that my grandparents were the Meldrums. But I don't blame you for what your uncle did. Nor do I expect you to believe it, just on my word. Somewhere there'll be proof. If I could find it, and show you—"

Buttoning his shirt, he turned to face her grimly. "My uncle George was the kindest, most decent man I ever knew and I won't have you saying a word against him."

"Then he lived a lie!" Ivory cried. "He pretended to be a friend to my grandparents, but he managed to take everything they had, just because my grandmother chose someone other than him. If you'd had to live with them and watch a sick old man die slowly—"

"You'll have me crying in a minute," he said cynically. "I don't want to hear it. You got what you wanted: you're mistress of Hedley Hall. But you're also my wife. You married me of your own free will. And I intend to make sure you keep those vows you made. You owe me that. Think about it, Ivory. I'm going to be busy today. Just take care of Janey and stay out of my way."

"But we've got to—" she began, and stopped. She was talking to empty space.

He shut himself in the study, locked himself in and stayed there all day, except at lunchtime, when he came out and made himself pleasant to Janey. She was bubbling with delight over the new bicycle, which had been delivered that morning, and Rebecca was coming that afternoon to play. Janey's world was sunny, which was the only consolation Ivory had.

That evening, as she settled the child into bed and leaned to kiss her forehead, Matthew came in to say good night to his daughter. Ivory waited in the upstairs hall, anxious to see what he intended to do.

"Shall I fix you a drink before dinner?" she asked when he joined her.

He seemed remote, looking at her as if she were a stranger. "No, thank you. I'm eating out."

He strode on into the main bedroom, with Ivory at his heels demanding, "Where are you going? Out with Carla again? I know you were with her last night. Corin took great pleasure in calling to tell me about it. If you think I'm going to put up with this, you're—"

"I shall see whomever I choose," he said brusquely. "I'm a Kendrake, remember? We do exactly as we please."

"Then go!" Ivory exclaimed. "Go to Carla. Go to the devil for all I care. I expect your uncle will be waiting for you."

The dressing room door closed in her face. Wanting to scream with impotent jealousy, she ran down to the drawing room and curled up on the settee. She heard him go out and the car purr away, crunching on the gravel. It was almost more than she could bear.

Alone in the dining room, Ivory picked at her meal, causing Mrs. Barnes to say, "You'll make yourself ill if you don't eat. You hardly had any of your lunch, either."

"I'm just not hungry." Wearily, she pushed her plate away. "Mrs. Barnes, would you mind watching Janey for an hour or so? I need a breath of fresh air."

"Yes, it'll do you good."

Ivory smiled wanly. Mrs. Barnes had guessed that something was wrong, but she was being very tactful about it. "Thank you. I don't know what we'd do without you, Mrs. Barnes."

The sun had just set, flinging its gold onto the underside of the dark clouds that lay across the western horizon. Hardly knowing where she was going, Ivory walked up the hill, pausing to look at the renovated cottage where she had once lived with her grandparents. Whatever Matthew might fondly believe about his uncle, Ivory knew her grandmother had told the truth. Lost in memories, she trudged on and her feet automatically turned along the lane toward Top Farm.

Rob looked stunned by the sight of her. "Ivory! You look awful. What's wrong? It's not Janey?"

"No, Rob." She managed a tired laugh. "Janey's fine. I just walked up to—to have a chat. I need to talk to someone."

Taking her arm, he led her inside the kitchen and put her into a chair. "Better sit down. Shall I make some tea?" He gestured to the books and papers strewn on the table. "I was just struggling with the accounts, so I'm glad of a break. Mum's gone out to a meeting."

"Good. I mean… It will be easier if she's not here. I know what she thinks of me. She wouldn't approve of my coming to cry on your shoulder."

"Is that what you've come for?" Rob asked softly.

She looked up, seeing his solid, dependable image waver through her tears. "Why did you have to tell Matthew I lived in that cottage? Do you know what you've done? He hates me now." Suddenly her misery spilled over and she laid her head on her arms, sobbing.

She felt Rob awkwardly stroking her hair. "Don't cry, Ivory," he said. "Please don't cry."

"But why did you tell him?"

"I thought he knew. I was just chatting—you know how you do. Honestly, Ivory, I didn't intend to make trouble. After what you said the last time you were here, I got to thinking. If that's the reason you married him, for revenge, then you must be out of your mind. It wouldn't have worked. Your husband has a right to know everything about you."