Peacock's Walk (17 page)

`He'll be in the office,' Silas assured her soothingly, and gave her arm a slight squeeze when they reached the office door. 'I'll be in the kitchen scrounging some liquid refreshment,' he told her as he opened the door for her, giving her no chance of changing her mind. He then gave her a slight push into the office, grinned at her, and firmly closed the door behind her.

All that Jenny had thought she might say, or had rehearsed in her silent vigil of the previous

night, now deserted her as she stood uncertainly near the door, ready for flight at the slightest provocation. Her apprehensive eyes were on Mark's dark head as he bent over some paper work on his desk. For one awful minute it looked as if she would have to make her presence known, and she couldn't think how to begin the conversation—at least, not the kind of conversation Silas had thought would be so easy.

She jumped when he spoke. 'Forgotten something, have you?' Mark asked mildly, his grey eyes now studying her, yet there was something in the back of his that made her heart beat faster, and before she knew it she had answered, 'Yes, you,' in a low, but firm voice, and swallowed quickly as the full impact of her words hit her. She hadn't intended to put it so baldly—even Dilys could have done better than that!

There was an imperceptible widening of his eyes as he digested her words, then it was gone in a flash, but he kept watching her with a still, waiting expression. 'And ...?' he prompted inexorably.

Jenny swallowed
again. She might just as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, she told herself miserably. 'I accept your proposal,' she gabbled out before her courage deserted her, feeling as if she was stepping off a ledge into a precipice.

He could have said, 'What proposal?' she told herself, and denied that he had proposed again, or he could say that she was a little late in taking him up on it. In fact there were so many things that he could say that she gave up the speculation. She could

only stand there feeling utterly lost and miserable and wishing with all her heart that he would simply get up and take her in his arms again, and tell her that he loved her.

Jenny was disappointed on all counts, since his reaction was not what she had anticipated, and her heart was heavy as she saw him quickly glance away from her and study the desk blotter in front of him. 'Silas has been talking, I gather,' he said in a voice that held a tinge of bitterness in it. 'I thought that he might have heard Dilys's farewell to me that day,' he said slowly, and glanced up at the now flushed Jenny, and startled her out of her acute embarrassment by giving a curt nod. 'So be it!' he said harshly. 'And there will be no second thoughts for either of us—understand that for a start,' he assured her as she looked at him apprehensively.

She was even more apprehensive as she watched him slowly unfold his long lean length from his chair and move towards her. There was a certain amount of purpose in his eyes that made her take a step back, although a few minutes ago she had wanted him to take her in his arms. If he had only held his arms out to her, she would have to run into them. It shouldn't be like this, she thought frantically.

'Come now,' he said in a soft almost silky voice, 'is this the way to behave with your fiancé? You've apparently forgotten quite a lot.'

The next moment Jenny felt herself pulled forward into his arms with a force that slightly winded her, and while she was recovering her breath he

gave her a kiss that melted her bones and made her want to fling her arms about his neck as she had once done, but some inner caution held her back.

She badly needed time to adjust herself to events, and Mark knew it, by his drawled, 'You've got some homework to do, haven't you?' as he kissed her again.

This time the kiss was not only dominating but hungry. It told of yearning, and took the form of a punishment, as his hard lips pounded her soft ones.

The caution she had felt earlier was stronger now, and Jenny bewilderedly accepted the punishment he was giving her. She hadn't known quite what to expect, but it hadn't been this. His hold was not gentle or loverlike; it was more of a victor subjecting his captive into total surrender. Triumphant, yet masterful, making her want to cry out, 'Not like this, Mark—please not like this!'

The words, however, were never uttered as she had no opportunity to voice such a plea as his lips gave her no, respite. When his lips finally left hers, the hold he had on her added to her discomfiture, for she could scarcely breathe, being clamped hard against his body.

'When I said you would come to me, this was not the way I wanted it,' he grated out as his lips roamed her wide forehead. 'But there's no going back now. We marry as soon as I can arrange it.'

Precisely one week later Jenny found herself standing in front of the registrar at the Brighton register office.

Mark had certainly lived up to his reputation of not letting the grass grow under his feet, she thought bewilderedly, as she received the tearful congratulations of Dodie who, with Tony, had acted as witnesses at the ceremony, and then having her hand shaken by an exuberant Silas, their best man.

Her feelings were very mixed at their reception, which was held at Peacock's Walk, and she was grateful that it was kept a small private affair, with only the three witnesses present.

Although it was such a small gathering, Jenny was given no chance of a private chat with either Dodie or Tony; Mark had seen to that by keeping her close to his side throughout the reception. To her amazement, however, neither of them appeared to be at all put out by this state of affairs, and took Mark's possessive attitude towards her as perfectly normal—which it would have been if things had been normal—but they were not. They had not had much notice of the wedding—as indeed, Jenny herself had not, until two days before the event, and she wondered if they were suffering from the effects of shock, since there had been no intimation that such an event would take place.

Her bemused glance rested on Tony for a brief second as she half-listened to the conversation between the men, and watched Dodie, dressed in a smart navy blue two-piece and matching beret that perched on her head, bustling round the cold buffet that had been prepared by a catering firm, in order to satisfy herself that everything was as it should be. It was then that Jenny remembered that Silas

had got her address from Tony, and Tony would not have given him her address unless he was convinced he was doing the right thing. Dodie then looked up from her examination of the loaded table and met Jenny's eyes and gave her a smile that made Jenny want to rush over to her and be comforted, as she had done when she was young, particularly when she had needed assurance.

The thought made her hastily concentrate on the conversation the men were engaged in, and she looked at Mark, who was now her husband, although she found this fact hard to assimilate. His pearl-grey suit and contrasting dark grey tie fitted his tall sinewy body to perfection, and she knew a spurt of pride that this was her man. It was no wonder that she had never looked at anyone else, she thought as she saw him smile at something Silas had said, and noticed how different it made him look—so very different from the cold hard exterior he had shown her on their first meeting after the break-up of their engagement.

When his long lean fingers touched hers as he handed her a glass of champagne, she knew a thrill of anticipation as his eyes met her shy ones, then the moment was gone as he turned to say something to Tony about the date he hoped the hotel would be re-opening.

Jenny hastily sipped her champagne, and tried to look as if she was enjoying herself, but the look Mark had given her had reawakened the memory of the way he had kissed her that day, and the way he left, her in no doubt that he wanted her. She swallowed

quickly. Wanted her, but did not love her. Her eyes rested on the lace-edged sleeve of her dress. She had not had much time to get herself a suitable dress for her wedding, but the coffee lace dress had been the nearest thing to suit the occasion, and it had suited her fair colouring. So had the wide-brimmed chocolate brown hat, and she had been well satisfied with her appearance—yet Mark had made no mention of the fact.

As she recalled the look in his eyes a moment ago, she knew a spurt of fear. It had contained more in the nature of a threat than a promise, and was as if he had said: 'I have you now.' Dilys's words came through to her with startling clarity: 'I believe he hates you for what you did to him.' Jenny's hand that held her glass of champagne shook and she quickly put it down on the table beside her. Did he hate her—and did he hate himself for his weakness where she was concerned? What chance of happiness would there be for either of them if this was so?

THE time Jenny was dreading, when they would be alone together, came all too soon for her, as she stood by the door of the dining room where the reception had been held, and received a quick hug from Dodie, and firm handshakes from Silas and Tony, as they took their leave of them.

Tony and Dodie had been transferred to the Brighton hotel, Tony taking over the duties of the chef who had gone down with 'flu, and Dodie had been put in charge of training a few new members of staff, which on the face of things was an admirable arrangement, except for the fact that it left Jenny entirely on her own, and with a nasty suspicion that the arrangement had been well thought out before. hand, with just such an object in mind.

As far as she was aware no arrangements had been made for them to spend their honeymoon away from Peacock's Walk, and as Mark intended to watch over the work being carried out, it was obvious that they would stay there.

On her return, Jenny had taken over her old apartment, as so far that part of the hotel had not come under attention from the team of decorators

working on the first floor, and gradually working their way through the whole premises. Mark had taken up his quarters in the room vacated by Dilys, and a few yards down the corridor from Jenny's rooms. At the thought of the size of Mark's room, as against her suite, it was obvious that he would move in with her, and the thought made her quake inwardly as she stood at the window of the dining room and waved farewell to their wedding guests as Silas drove them back to Brighton.

Even Silas, she thought miserably, had deserted her in her hour of need, for he had made arrangements to fly back to the States the following day, and had booked in at the Brighton hotel for the night.

She turned slowly from the window to find Mark standing watching her, and her heart turned over at the bleak expression in his eyes, and she wanted to cry out to him, 'Don't look like that. You didn't have to marry me. If only you could forget the past, we could be happy. I'll make it up to you, if you'll let me.' But no such words came, and all she could do was stand there and wait for him to make the first move. She so badly wanted a lead from him, to know what kind of future he had in store for her, and to be given a chance of adjusting herself to the swift turn of events that had catapulted her out of her uneventful existence and into a complex of strong emotions—emotions she was entirely unprepared to cope with.

'You needn't look like a martyr about to be thrown to the lions,' Mark commented dryly, although Jenny sensed a bitterness behind the words.

see no reason why we shouldn't carry on as we are. It's pretty obvious you need time to get used to the fact that you are now my wife. I can wait. I've got what I wanted.'

The words were bit out, and made Jenny wince inwardly. He did hate her, and pride alone kept her from breaking down and throwing herself into his arms. The fact that he wanted her would have made him make love to her, he wouldn't have been able to push her from him—and afterwards? Her breath caught in her throat. It was the aftermath that she most dreaded. For him, a physical need would be satisfied, but for her, a feeling of shame that she had given herself to a man who hated her, even though she loved him, the shame would still be there and would haunt her solitude for the rest of time.

'Thank you,' she murmured in a low voice, completely unable to look at him, terrified that he would see the desolation she felt mirrored in her eyes. He did not miss much where she was concerned, and she hoped he would put her inability to look at him down to embarrassment.

'I'm afraid I'll not be able to have dinner with you, either,' he said stiffly. 'I've a business commitment that I must keep. You'll appreciate that I haven't had much time to rearrange my affairs.'

Jenny nodded quickly, not trusting herself to answer, and after a second or so she managed to excuse herself politely from his presence, and went to her rooms.

The familiar decor acted as a
tranquillizer
on her shattered nerves, and she settled herself in her chair

by the fireside, staring with fixed intensity around the room, savouring the solace it appeared to be offering her. She did not want this room altered, and wanted it to stay just as it was. It was her home, and haven, and she wanted no other.

Thoughts such as these took her mind off her unhappiness, but not for long. Soon she was back to her problems, and wishing with all her heart that Silas had let her be. Her marriage to Mark might have let him off Dilys's hook, but now she was snared in the net, and there was no going back, as Mark had so pointedly remarked.

It was odd, she thought satirically, that Mark was now treating her in the way that she thought he would treat Dilys should they ever marry. The dinner appointment he said he could not break—her soft lips twisted wryly; he could have put it off if he'd really wanted to. It was his wedding day, wasn't it? What other groom would be expected to keep such an appointment, no matter how long-standing?