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Authors: Susan Barrie

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1967

BOOK: The Quiet Heart
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“That’s what I thought,” Leydon observed quietly. “That’s why I bought it.”

Marianne gazed at him incredulously, laughed more shrilly, and then fell silent as Alison rebuked her with her eyes.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Leydon,” she said quietly to Charles. “It’s the very thing I most needed.”

Which was not exactly true, as she had just bought herself a far more frilly conception of a similar garment, and had an extremely practical if rather well-worn one in the back of her wardrobe.

As she met Charles’s eyes, and the embarrassed colour continued to sting her cheeks, she thought that his expression was distinctly odd. He appeared, in some curious way, to be enjoying himself in a distinctly restrained fashion.

His present to Marianne was the next one that was handed out. This failed to raise eyebrows, but brought forth a few “
A
hs!” of delight.

It was a beauty-case in cream leather filled with an expensive make of beauty preparations and a lot of most attractive cut-glass jars and bottles. In addition she received a bottle of perfume that brought a delighted rush of colour to her cheeks, and a box of chocolates and some sheer nylon stockings. Lorne received a set of books that she had been coveting for some time, and an enormous box of chocolates. Miss Prim received a silk headsquare and a beautiful scarf brooch that very nearly deprived her of the power to express her thanks, it was so plainly not just costume jewellery.

“You are most generous,” she declared, when she could get the words out, “more than generous!” She glanced round at Alison with suspiciously over-bright eyes. “Do you marvel I find him a most satisfying employer?”

“If a trifle over-demanding on occasion,” Leydon himself put in drily.

He was waiting for Jessamy to discover what was inside her various rather outsize packages, and indeed they were all waiting for Jessamy to untie the satin ribbon that confined an unmistakable dress-box and let them all have a good look at the contents. This time there was absolute silence as Jessamy, with trembling hands, lifted out a fur coat ... full length, of nutria lamb, and as pliable as silk. The satin lining alone must have ensured that the coat was a most expensive purchase, and in addition to it there were other presents.

A short evening dress in rose-pink chiffon with some touches of gold embroidery on the bodice; a pair of fragile sandals in rose-pink satin that at the moment she couldn’t wear, but which were intended, no doubt, to encourage her to look forward to the future, when she would be able to wear them; a fine wool sweater also in rose colour—which was the one colour that really suited Jessamy—and a gold lipstick and powder compact.

Nobody said anything at all for several seconds, and then Marianne’s “Well!” expressed the reaction of all of them, even including Miss Prim.

Leydon stood waiting, a little smile on his lips, while Jessamy came up for the third time, as it were. She made an excited, and somewhat awkward, rush at him.

“I—I could kiss you!” she declared, lifting a radiant face.

“Do!” he replied, and bent his sleek dark head over her, while his light eyes danced with approval. Jessamy’s petal soft, pretty pink lips just touched his cheek ... and then impulsively touched it again.

Alison felt as if the breath caught in her throat and hurt her, but Miss Prim applauded.

“Well, I must say you have every reason to be extremely grateful to Mr. Leydon, Jessamy,” she remarked. “Such an avalanche of presents!” And then in order that he shouldn’t receive the wrong impression, she added hastily: “And we’ve all been most fortunate! Such a really wonderful Christmas!”

It continued to be quite a wonderful Christmas for most of them, although Alison felt as if it had ceased to mean anything at all to her. She was the only one amongst them who had been singled out to receive something severely practical in the way of a gift from the owner of Leydon Hall ... and unless her imagination was entirely at fault he had actually enjoyed setting her apart from the rest.

If he had had a grudge against her she would almost have been prepared to swear that he did it deliberately ... no engaging trifles to offset the suggestion that she was a practical person who would appreciate practical recognition. Not even a very small bottle of perfume, or a very ordinary lipstick. Not even a silk head-square...

She was surprised that he hadn’t presented her with a set of saucepans, or a new electric iron, or a vacuum cleaner.

And although he had been very generous to her other two stepdaughters, Jessamy’s fur coat alone set her apart from them as someone for whom he had a rather special regard. Her evening dress and her sweater and sandals made it clear that the regard was rather more than special ... and Alison was beginning to suspect that she knew just how important it was, and how seriously it had to be looked upon.

Charles Leydon, bachelor, in his thirties, had made the acquaintance of a charming, helpless girl, and fallen in love with her. The next thing he would be doing would be approaching her stepmother for permission to marry her. Although he would probably wait until after her treatment in Austria to do that.

And it was now perfectly clear that he had every intention that Jessamy should undergo that treatment.

Alison went to bed that night feeling as if she no longer had anything in Life to look forward to ... apart from Jessamy’s future wellbeing.

And as she was only twenty-seven, and not even thirty-seven, the sensation of cold despair that came upon her as she stood before her window in the privacy of her room that night and looked out into the Christmas dark was enough in itself to make her wonder whether she could possibly face up to whatever future was in store for her.

Miss Prim, before she said good-night to her, had pressed her hand.

“My dear,” she said, “thank you for the immense amount of trouble you’ve taken to give us a wonderful time! I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed Christmas Day more!” But her eyes were full of sympathy, because she was a very shrewd woman who had never married herself, and therefore perhaps understood the ache in the heart of a girl who had been most unfairly married by a man who had wanted a mother for his children, and now had to stand aside while one of those children carried off the prize that, although she wouldn’t admit it, she wanted for herself.

The life of the man she had nursed ... perhaps preserved. And a life belongs to its preserver, according to an ancient belief.

Rosalind Prim understood all this, and she wanted to let Alison know that she did ... But all she could do was press her hand, and feel a very real sympathy for her.

Men never, in her experience, reacted the way they should. Alison had not spared herself, but it was Jessamy, with her unfortunate lame foot, who had succeeded in breaking down the defences that surrounded a hardened bachelor’s heart, and found her way in through a gap in the barricades. Been pulled in, in fact, by two strong, and shapely, and eager masculine hands.

But Miss Prim, also sitting before her window after a warm bath and a degree of reflection about the day just ended, thought it a little cruel to distinguish between a girl and her stepmother so very deliberately. A fur coat for one, a warm but severely practical dressing-gown for the other.

And there was not, after all, a great deal of difference in their ages. They could have been sisters.

Alison, wrapping herself in her well-worn dressing-gown after thrusting the other, in its cardboard box, on the top of her wardrobe, wondered whether the distinction really had been deliberate. If so, Charles Leydon was not a man who expressed his gratitude very easily or suitably.

CHAPTER X

TWO days after Christmas Miss Prim returned to London, and Leydon announced his intention of following her.

Alison, dusting his sitting-room while he made the announcement, concealed any surprise she felt and merely turned and asked whether he was likely to be away for long.

Leydon lighted a cigarette very carefully and deliberately, and regarded her through the faint haze of smoke that arose between them.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But I shall, of course, be returning to Leydon from time to time.”

“From time to time?”

“Yes.” He was reclining in a comfortable chair, and he crossed one well-pressed trouser leg over the other. He regarded the tip of his cigarette thoughtfully. “I don’t mind admitting I’ve become quite fond of Leydon, but my work lies in London, and I must get on with it. Here I’m tempted to lounge and do nothing.”

“The doctor said you should have a complete break after your illness,” Alison reminded him, polishing the top of the desk with vigour. “He didn’t want you to do any work for several months, and suggested going abroad as a form of convalescence, if you remember?”

“‘I remember.” He rose and walked across to her and took the duster out of her hand. He flung it down on the floor. “Must you
always
be doing something while I’m talking to you?” he asked.

Alison looked mildly astonished.

“I’m sorry if it annoys you—”

“It does more than that ... it infuriates me!” He stooped, picked up the duster and tossed it on to the fire. “Sit down!” he then ordered. “I want to talk to you!”

Alison sat down, wondering uneasily what was coming.

He looked down at her with light grey eyes that were actually scowling a little.

“You mentioned my going abroad,” he said. “I have every intention of going abroad in a few weeks’ time. First, I shall take Jessamy to Austria, and then I don’t quite know where I’ll go ... but it will be somewhere where the sun can be counted upon to shine, and where I can relax for a while.”

“You won’t wait until ... you see how Jessamy responds to the treatment?” she enquired breathlessly.

His dark eyebrows arched in surprise.

“No. Why should I?”

“I thought...”

“What did you think? What, precisely, have you been thinking for the past five or six weeks?”

He leant his shapely shoulder against the white mantelpiece, and sought to intimidate her with his look.

“Five or six weeks...?”

“Ever since I came here, in fact.”

This was too embarrassing a direct question for Alison, and she tried to evade it.

“I—I realise that you’ve taken a great deal of interest in Jessamy...”

“Forget Jessamy. I want to hear what
you
think, what
your
plans are for the future, what
you
intend to do with your life?”

She answered without enthusiasm.

“Very much the same kind of thing that I’m doing now, I suppose. As you once told me, I’m a good cook...”

“Forget that, too! Or I shall begin to think that you and a kitchen sink are inseparable.”

Her smile grew distinctly wry.

“You think that already, don’t you?”

His light grey eyes appeared to be blazing down at her angrily.

“If I do it’s your own fault,” he said. “For Christmas I very nearly gave you a set of dusters, a book on household management and a copper preserving-pan because I thought they were the only things you were likely to feel pleased about. Instead I decided you might feel pleased about a dressing-gown—”

“A severely practical dressing-gown,” she put in quietly.

“To match your severe, practical self.”

“I’m not severe and practical.”

“Then once again may I be permitted to ask ... what are you?”

She looked at him resentfully. The colour was flaming in her cheeks and her eyes were filled with resentment. At the same time she felt slightly choked, and her voice was muffled when she spoke, because he was so utterly blind.

“You can take it,” she told him, “that I’m wedded to the stove, and all the happiness I get out of life results from watching other people thrive on the meals I prepare for them. When Jessamy goes to Austria, wearing your fur coat, even she will look a little plumper than she might have looked because I’ve fed her properly. My husband might have died before he did die because I saw he was well nourished and cared for...”

“Alison!” He pulled her up out of her chair, and his fingers gripped her shoulders. “What would you have liked for Christmas? A fur coat?”

She shook her head and hid her face.

“I’ve already got one.”

“And how long have you had it?”

“My father bought it for me, years ago.”

“What else did your father buy you?”

“Oh, lots of things. He—he spoiled me.”

“And no one has spoiled you since?”

She shook her head again. At the same time she despised herself for feeling so overwhelmingly sorry for herself ... so sorry for herself that he could see it.

He gave her a little shake.

“Alison, what did you do with the dressing-gown?”

She spoke through her teeth.

“I don’t intend to wear it!”

Suddenly he laughed ... and to her astonishment it was an oddly triumphant laugh.

“I hoped you wouldn’t!”

“You—you hoped I wouldn’t...?” She couldn’t believe her ears. His light grey eyes were smiling, and the hardness of his fingers was bruising her flesh. “Then why on earth did you give it to me?”

“To find out how you would react to being treated as if you were a dull, middle-aged woman instead of the girl you are. I think you have forgotten that you really are a girl, Alison ... and you’re such a devoted stepmother that you’ve also become a little blind. You think I’m planning to marry Jessamy, don’t you?”

“And—aren’t you?” in a faint voice.

In a whimsical voice he counter-questioned. “Would you like me to? Would you like me for a son-in-law, Alison?”

She tried to wrench herself away from his hold, but he refused to let her go. Beginning to enjoy himself, he tilted her chin with one hand while he held her firmly with the other. He looked deep into her eyes, and then sighed with relief.

“No, I can see you wouldn’t,” he said softly—so softly that it was like a caress. Although she still struggled to free herself he held her determinedly. “Prim warned me I mustn’t be taken in by you, Alison, and I’m not going to be any longer. Just tell me what you would
really
have liked to receive from me at Christmas?”

“Please!” She tried to keep her face averted. “Let me go!”

“Not until you answer my question. Possibly not even then. Would you like to go to the Bahamas with me, Alison? If we took Lorne along with us—Marianne, I feel certain, would rather remain here with her boy-friend—and left Jessamy safely stowed away in Austria, would you go with me? As my nurse, as my devoted companion, and possibly, also, my cook occasionally? As my housekeeper!”


Please
!”

Her face was painfully flushed, and her eyes were abashed, but he refused to relent.

“Unless, of course, you’d rather go along with me as my—wife?”

Alison collapsed against him. His fingers had hurt her arms, and she was ready to burst into tears. She thought he was being extraordinarily brutal, and he might still be making fun of her, but she no longer had any pride.

“Do you really need a wife?” she whispered.

“I need you, my darling.” The change that overcame him was complete. His arms fastened about her and she realised for the first time that his heart was beating wildly very close to hers, and his face had suddenly become so serious that she could no longer believe him capable of deliberately amusing himself at her expense. “Right from the beginning, you blind, stupid, adorable woman, I was attracted by you, and the night I sat watching you in the library I also fell in love for the very first time in my life. If you’d had the sense to search carefully when you swept the floor the following day, or hoovered, or whatever it is you do to floors—I’m sure you have the perfect answer!—you’d have found my heart lying there on the stone cold floor. No wonder I developed pneumonia ... the shock of falling in love at my time of life was enough to prostrate me. It did, and I tried to tell you all about it while you set about nursing me in that highly competent manner of yours, but I know now you’d have attributed it to rising temperature if I’d said anything about marrying you as quickly as possible.”

“You—you did say something about casting my wedding-ring into the sea,” she reminded him, while she wondered whether she was awake or dreaming, and her head came to rest on his shoulder.

He looked down at it, encircling her pale finger.

“And that’s the one thing above everything else I’d like to do,” he told her viciously. “And no one can accuse me of being light-headed now!”

Her shy grey eyes looked up at him.

“Roger was never my husband, so you haven’t the smallest reason to be jealous,” she assured him. “If,” she added breathlessly, “you feel like being jealous.”

“I do.”

He took her face between his hands and examined it.

“You’re the loveliest thing, Alison,” he said wonderingly. “And I paid good money for that hideous dressing-gown! We’ll cast that into the sea if you like.”

But her thrifty instincts were offended by the idea.

“Oh, no, I’ll keep it ... and one day I’m sure I’ll find a use for it.”

“When your second husband is once more prostrate and you have to nurse him? It’ll be ideal for the cold night watches!” And then he smoothed the fine line of her brows. “Tell me, truthfully, Alison ... were you seriously afraid I was becoming interested in Jessamy? Apart from feeling sorry for her, I mean?”

She nodded, studying the top button of his waistcoat.

“I was quite sure you were grooming her, as it were, for marriage.”

“And you would have let me marry her?”

“Forget it.” He snatched her close, and for the first time she was really imprisoned by his arms. “I’m behaving very badly to you, my little love, and it’s high time I explained why I showered all those things on Jessamy at Christmas. One reason was because I like her, and I do think she’s a most engaging child who needs bringing out of her shell and encouraging a little, as she’s highly sensitive about that disability of hers. But the main reason was because of your absurd independence. I wanted to break it down, and I’ll admit now that I also wanted to make you jealous.” He smiled at her penitently all the same. “I thought, if I was able to read your expression aright when you received your present, and, later, Jessamy received hers, it would enable me to know the best way to proceed with you. If you were indifferent ... well, I’d go away and nurse my broken heart in London. If—and this is what happened—you looked so hurt that I was afraid, for one moment, you might even break down and cry and then protest violently, I would know you cared. For I’m perfectly well aware that you grudge Jessamy nothing ... nothing material; that is. But you would grudge her me.”

“Oh, I would, I would,” she assured him and all at once she started clinging to him unashamedly, and he could feel her trembling in his hold. He said something huskily and bent his head impulsively, and then she felt his mouth touching hers at first lightly and experimentally, until her arms went up about his neck and he kissed her passionately.

She would never have believed, when he arrived at Leydon Hall for the first time, that he was capable of such a kiss. And if the truth were told she would never have believed that she herself could become so abandoned under the influence of that kiss and his arms as to turn her face up to him eagerly for more, and give him back kiss for kiss.

For at least ten minutes, while they stood locked in one another’s arms in the middle of the floor, they each had their first foretaste of pure, unadulterated ecstasy ... and when it was over Charles Leydon looked a little pale, while Alison was rosily flushed.

Then he led her over to his chair, sat down in it, and pulled her down on to his lap.

“Listen,” he commanded. “Listen while I outline my plans for our future and the future of Leydon Hall.”

Contentedly—not even afraid that Mrs. Davenport might find her way into the room and be astounded by what she saw—she settled down with her head against his shoulder to listen.

“We’ll live here—at least part of the time. I’ll have the wing we now occupy—or rather, you occupy, since we’re not actually married yet,” smiling down at her blushing face, “converted into an entirely separate wing—separate, that is, from the rest of the Hall—and install all the modern conveniences I can think of. When we’re not in London, or elsewhere, we’ll live here ... but the bulk of Leydon Hall will be adapted for other purposes. I’m not ruthless and unimaginative, as you once supposed, but I am practical, and I hate a lot of waste, so I shall either convert it into flats for old people, or run it as a school. I’m inclined to favour flats for old people, and if you’re the kind of girl I think you are—well, I think you’d prefer that, too.” Alison agreed that it was quite a novel idea, and she did approve of it.

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