The Right Bride? (36 page)

‘True.’ He did not deny it.

‘Well…’ She could feel herself going pink, but it had to be said. ‘I wouldn’t want anything—er—physical between—’

‘You’re blushing,’ he interrupted, seeming fascinated at the tide of colour that flowed to her face.

And that annoyed her. ‘I mean it!’ she said stubbornly. ‘I don’t want a husband—’ She broke off, looked at him, and everything suddenly righted itself in her head and settled. ‘And you don’t want a wife,’ she ended, it being plain to her then that ‘anything physical’ was way off his agenda.

‘You obviously needed to work that through,’ he remarked casually.

She began to feel hot all over that she had ever brought the subject up. ‘You’re sure you need to do this?’ she questioned hurriedly to cover her embarrassment. And, when he looked unsmiling at her, ‘I mean—’ she glanced from him and around the graciously appointed room ‘—I seem to be doing very well out of this.’

He nodded. ‘Drastic circumstances call for drastic measures.’ She had known that he would not be taking this ‘drastic’ action if he could find some other way out. And while drastic action was not very flattering to her, it was also fine by Colly. It was the same for her too. Her impending homelessness, her joblessness, her inability to earn sufficient to make her independent, made drastic action the only way possible for her too. ‘I know my father,’ Silas went on. ‘Unless he was absolutely certain that my grandfather meant every
word rather than cause me disquiet my father would have kept their conversation strictly to himself. You,’ Silas said, looking straight into her green eyes, ‘are my insurance.’

She looked away, uncertain how she felt about that. But considering all that had gone on, all that would go on, she realised that now was not the time to get picky because, not dressing it up, her intended was telling it as it was. Her intended! Oh, heavens!

Then she recalled how earlier that evening she had pondered on the question of their divorce. But when she looked at him it was to see he was taking out a card and handing it to her. ‘My home address and phone number,’ he informed her. ‘I cannot see a situation arising when you’d need either, but—’

‘I can,’ she interrupted.

‘You can?’ He was looking stern again, whether because he did not care to be interrupted or because he was not too happy that she might have a complication that would see her wanting to phone him every five minutes, Colly could not tell.

‘We’ve discussed the legal aspects of—um—what we’re about.’ Ridiculously, the words ‘our marriage’ stuck in her throat. ‘But what about at the end of it?’

‘End of it?’

There he was again, making her spell it out! ‘Divorce. What—?’

His expression darkened. ‘They’ll be no divorce!’ Silas stated harshly.

‘No divorce?’ It was her turn to echo his words this time.

Silas shook his head. ‘My grandfather has very old-fashioned views on the sanctity of marriage. To him divorce is a dirty word. I have no idea of how he intends to word his new will, but I can be certain, from what I know of him, that there will be a clause in there somewhere to the effect that should any such marriage I have contracted end in divorce
prior to his demise—Kit’s marriage too for that matter—then the other cousin inherits the shares.’

‘He’s got you pretty well sewn up, hasn’t he?’ she commented.

‘He has,’ Silas admitted. ‘And I resent it.’

‘Er—you’re not going to tell him you’re married—when you are?’

‘Hell, no!’ Silas said forthrightly.

‘Because you’re—aggrieved with him?’

Silas shook his head slightly, though owned, ‘A bit of that, perhaps, but mainly because he would want to meet my bride.’

‘Oh, grief. I hadn’t thought of that!’ Colly exclaimed, mentally backing away fast from the very idea.

Silas favoured her with one of his rare smiles. ‘While I know little about you, Colly, other than using my instincts, from what I
do
know about you I’d say you won’t be telling anyone of our marriage either.’

‘For my part, there’s no one who needs to know,’ she answered. He really had quite a superb mouth when he smiled. ‘Um—shall we keep it between our two selves, then?’ she asked. Good heavens, what was the matter with her? Abruptly she switched her gaze from his mouth to his eyes.

He gave a small nod. ‘I may have to give my father some kind of hint that he has no need to worry. But you can rely absolutely on my discretion.’

‘I’m sure,’ she murmured. And from nowhere the words came rushing from her mouth. ‘What if we marry but you fall in love with someone?’ She had his full attention, and felt a touch awkward, but rushed on, ‘What if you want to marry someone else?’

‘I won’t.’

‘How do you know?’ she exclaimed, not a little amazed by the confidence in his statement.

‘She’d have to be more than a bit extra-special for me to
think so much of her that I’d be prepared to divorce you and so risk my inheritance going to my cousin.’

‘You don’t know anyone—er—that extra-special?’ Colly found herself enquiring.

His mouth quirked upwards. ‘She doesn’t exist,’ he returned pleasantly.

Colly mulled that over for a moment, then concluded, ‘I’ll marry you, because it suits us both, but I think we should have some sort of time limit.’

‘You think you may fall in love and want to marry elsewhere?’ he demanded, every bit as though he thought she was deceiving him—and that was before they started.

‘No!’ she denied hotly, her green eyes sparking at this hint he thought she might not be being absolutely honest with him. ‘I’ve told you. I’m more interested in making a career for myself than in matrimony. I just—just need to cover all bases, all eventualities, that’s all. And I—I think it’s best to have these matters sorted out now, rather than on the registry office steps in a couple of weeks’ time.’ She ran out of breath, and owned to not being too enamoured that he had turned her question about him and his love-life around and fired it back at her.

Silas stared at her, his gaze on the spirited look of her, his glance slipping briefly to her mouth before he fixed on her eyes once more. Then he told her seriously, ‘I’m afraid I cannot agree to any time limit in the length of our marriage,’ explaining, ‘To do so would be to speculate on my grandfather’s demise, and that is abhorrent to me.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t agree more,’ she said impulsively, suddenly wondering why it had been important to her anyway—Silas had more or less stated that he would not want to divorce during his grandfather’s remaining years. ‘I’m sorry,’ she apologised. ‘It was insensitive of me to push the issue.’

Silas looked at her contemplatively. ‘Do you know?’ he began a moment later. ‘I do believe I’m getting me a very
nice wife.’ Colly could only look at him, but at once she realised that there was absolutely nothing intimate or anything for her to worry about in his remark when, in the same breath, and as if to take anything personal out of what he had said, he followed up with, ‘You’ll be dating, I expect, during our marriage?’

Her lips twitched. ‘You’re saying that you won’t?’ she bounced back at him. And, impossibly, they both laughed.

‘That seems to be everything, I think,’ he said a few seconds later. ‘Unless there’s anything else you’d like to ask?’ She shook her head, finding that she enjoyed sharing laughter with him. ‘Then I’ll just show you where to garage your car, and we’ll be off.’

Silas Livingstone was in her head the whole of the way home. He was still there when she went in and searched around in the drawer where personal papers were kept for her birth certificate.

‘What are you nosing around in here for?’ Nanette asked on coming into the study and seeing her with a rolled up piece of paper in her hand. ‘What have you got there?’

‘Nothing that belongs to you,’ Colly replied evenly. And she realised that she did not have to put up with this woman for very much longer, that, in fact, now that she already had the keys to her new abode in her bag, she could move out tomorrow if she cared to. ‘Since I shall soon be living elsewhere, I’m taking papers personal to me with me.’ With that she escaped to her room.

Colly was about to go to the drawing room to wait and watch for Silas the next morning when she belatedly remembered that she had not telephoned Rupert. She was not surprised she had forgotten. The fact that she was going to marry Silas Livingstone two weeks on Saturday had kept her thoughts elsewhere. But Rupert would have expected her at the gallery twenty minutes ago.

She was on the hall phone to Rupert when her housecoated
stepmother floated past on her way to fix herself a cup of coffee. But while Colly was attempting to console Rupert—all ‘his’ women were against him, apparently, and his latest lady-love had last night dumped him—the doorbell rang.

‘I’m sorry about that, Rupert,’ Colly said, wanting to get to the front door before Nanette got there first. ‘But I’ll…’

Too late. Nanette was there. Colly heard her delighted coo of surprise, and was not listening at all to what Rupert was bending her ear with as Nanette invited Silas into the house.

‘All I said to her,’ Rupert was complaining, ‘was that…’

Nanette took Silas into the drawing room and closed the door.

‘I’m sorry, Rupert, I really must go. I have some business to attend to, but it shouldn’t take me too long.’

‘You liked her, didn’t you?’

Meriel? He must be referring to his dumper. ‘She was very nice. Look, Rupert, I must dash. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, but…’

It seemed to be all of five minutes before she was able to put down the phone and hurry to the elegant drawing room, where Nanette was acting out the sad, but available, widow.

‘Here you are,’ she trilled sweetly as Silas got to his feet. ‘You forgot to mention that Silas was calling.’

Colly ignored the question in her voice. ‘I almost forgot to ring Rupert too,’ she answered lightly. And, turning to Silas, ‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.’

‘You’re sure I can’t tempt you to coffee?’ Nanette enquired of him.

‘Thank you, no,’ he replied urbanely. ‘Ready, Colly?’

Nanette gave her a frosty look that said she would be asking questions later, and Silas escorted Colly out to his car. ‘I was ready on time,’ Colly commented as they crossed the drive to his car.

‘And then you remembered Rupert?’ Silas filled in.

‘I’ve—er—had other things on my mind,’ she mumbled as he held the passenger door open for her.

‘Will you mind very much having to leave here?’ he asked, looking back at the substantial house with its fine furnishings.

‘I…’ she began, then shook her head. ‘It—isn’t home any more.’ And was aghast that her voice should unexpectedly go all wobbly.

To her surprise Silas stretched out a hand and touched her arm in a moment of sympathy. ‘It will get better,’ he comforted softly.

She was suddenly ashamed of herself. ‘It has already,’ she said brightly, and got into his car, telling herself she must guard against such weak moments, but starting to like this man she was going to marry. She liked especially this more sensitive side of him.

Their business at the register office was dealt with without fuss, and in no time they were back in his car and Silas was returning her to the only home she had ever known but which on Saturday she would leave for ever.

‘I can’t think of any reason for you to contact me but you have my phone numbers should you find a need,’ he said, when at her home she went to open the car door. ‘Just a moment.’ He halted her, and took a ring-sizer from the glove compartment. ‘Better get the size right.’

A tingle shot through her as he took her hand to get the measure of her wedding finger. ‘I can use my mother’s wedding ring,’ she said hurriedly.

‘Are you calling me a cheapskate?’ he teased—and she found she liked that about him as well, his teasing, just as if he sensed she was suddenly uptight and, when she was nothing to him, easing her through it.

She got out of the car to find that he had stepped out too and was coming round to her. ‘I’ll—um—see you two weeks on Saturday,’ she said by way of parting.

He nodded. ‘Move into the apartment as soon as you’re ready,’ he suggested, and that was it. He was gone.

Nanette was avid to know how she knew Silas Livingstone and what he was doing calling for her, and where had they gone?

‘He’s in the engineering business like my father,’ Colly replied offhandedly, and decided Nanette could make of that what she would because it was all she was getting.

Colly then went to the gallery and listened to Rupert going on and on—and on—about the ingratitude of Meriel. When he had for the moment paused to seek fresh charges to lay against Meriel’s door, Colly told him that she was moving to an apartment.

‘I don’t blame you!’ he exclaimed, obviously having no idea that she had been left penniless and of the opinion that she could afford to rent or buy. ‘What your father saw in that Nanette creature, I shall never know!’ he dramatised, having met her once, fancied his chance, but received short shrift when Nanette had her eyes set on more lucrative game.

Colly went home late that afternoon and began putting her belongings together. She moved to her new home on Friday—and was not bitterly disappointed that Nanette had taken herself off clothes shopping and was not there to say goodbye to. Colly left her house keys on the hall table—and went quickly.

The weeks leading up to her wedding went in turns fast and then slowly, fast and then slowly. She was soon settled into her new abode, and liked where she was living and its surrounds, but experienced a feeling of edginess. Perhaps it was through the speed with which everything had happened and was happening. She owned to a few panicky moments too whenever she thought—that day creeping nearer and nearer, galloping nearer and nearer sometimes—of how she was going to marry the tall, distinguished-looking Silas
Livingstone. Sometimes it seemed more like a dream than reality.

She did not find any reason to contact him. Though would not have minded some reassuring word. Reassuring? Get a grip, Colly, she lectured herself, you’re twenty-three—and life is going to get better. It already had. While she still missed her father, grouch that he had been a lot of the time, at least she didn’t have to spend time being picked on by his widow.