Whispers of Love (12 page)

Even so, the first time George asked if he could take her out for the evening, she demurred even though she knew she would have enjoyed the opportunity very much.

‘Why ever not? You seem to enjoy my company when we take Fiona out for a drive.'

‘Only because it's a pleasant diversion for Fiona,' she told him primly.

‘So don't you think it might be an equally pleasant diversion for you if we went on our own?' he teased, his gaze holding hers.

‘It is out of the question because Fiona is still far from well and it's my duty to see she is never left alone.'

When he nodded in agreement with her decision, turned on his heel and walked away without another word, Christabel almost cried with vexation.

To spend an entire evening in his company, without Fiona being there with them, would have been wonderful. His dashing good looks, his charm, his manner and his voice combined to make him a most attractive man and one she wanted to get to know better.

When George returned a few minutes later to say he had arranged for the housekeeper, Madame Frederique, to remain on call that evening to attend to Fiona's needs, Christabel stared at him in amazement, too taken aback even to thank him.

‘I'll call for you at nine o'clock,' George told her. ‘We'll dine at the Carlton Casino Restaurant and then we can dance afterwards. Their orchestra plays this new jazz as well as the more conventional dances,' he said, grinning boyishly at her.

Christabel spent the rest of the day in a state of indecision. She wondered what the Gleesons' reaction would be if it ever reached their ears that she had left their daughter in the care of domestic staff while she went dancing with their son.

Fiona will have retired for the night long before nine o'clock
, she reminded herself,
and in all probability she will be asleep before I leave with George. There's even a chance that she won't waken again
before I return home, in which case she need never know that I have been out
.

Since George is the one who has made the arrangements I am only obeying orders
, she told herself. Anyway, it would be quite a long while before news of the incident could possibly reach the Gleesons' ears, that's if it ever did, and it would be time enough then to worry about their reaction.

Having reached a decision, she then rescheduled their normal evening routine to make sure that Fiona would be ready to retire early and, if luck was really on her side, would be asleep before George called to collect her.

Discreetly, she slipped away to the kitchen to have a word with the housekeeper about her plans. Madame Frederique, although eager to please George Gleeson, knew only too well how petulant and demanding Fiona could be and was quick to point out the hazards of their scheme.

‘Let us give her a special treat,' she suggested, anxious to avoid any sort of confrontation. ‘What about serving supper in her room after she is in bed? I will prepare her favourite dishes, ones I know she delights in. And perhaps she could have a small glass of wine; one that will make her sleepy, yes?'

‘That sounds wonderful!'

‘And we will say nothing about you going out, eh? If she should waken, I will be on hand, and I will say you have retired early with a
bad head, and that you are not to be disturbed. Yes?'

Having settled that part of the arrangement, Christabel wondered what she should wear. Knowing that her duties were to chaperone and care for a young invalid, the evening dresses she'd brought with her were restricted in colour and style, and more suitable for family dining than accompanying a handsome man to a smart restaurant

The only dress she had packed that remotely looked suitable for a dinner-dance was the pale green one with floating dark green chiffon panels that she had worn at Kay's birthday party, but she wondered if it was rather too risqué for such an occasion.

It was either that or one of her more formal dresses, she decided, since there was no time to indulge in a shopping spree. Moreover, even if she had the opportunity, she couldn't afford to do so.

The first part of the evening seemed endless and everything seemed to go wrong. Fiona was irritable and obstreperous. She rejected the idea of having her supper served on a tray and it took a lot of persuasion to make her change her mind.

‘Only if you stay and read to me while I eat it,' she said, pouting.

‘Very well.' Christabel struggled to keep her voice calm although inwardly she was feeling increasingly anxious.

Madame Frederique saved the day by producing such an appetising spread, promptly at seven o'clock, that Fiona was suddenly eager to eat. She scowled when Christabel reminded her that she was to have her supper in bed, but reluctantly gave in when Christabel remained resolute and insisted that she had to keep to their agreement.

‘You've not rested at all, Fiona, since we returned from our drive,' she pointed out. ‘Tomorrow you will be too tired to go out at all.'

Fiona pouted childishly, clutching the huge teddy bear to her chest, burying her face in its soft golden fur and ignoring what Christabel was saying.

Firmly, Christabel took it from her and propped it against the pile of pillows alongside her as Madame Frederique placed the bed tray across Fiona's lap.

The appetising food, wine and warmth of the room soon took their toll. Fiona had barely eaten the last morsel of the delicate ice cream and fruit confection, which had been made specially for her, before her eyelids were drooping and her attention was no longer on the book Christabel was reading aloud to her.

Very cautiously, Christabel removed the tray and placed it on the table by the bed, but she went on reading aloud for another few minutes until Fiona's breathing became deep and regular. Then she closed the book, drew the covers up
so that they covered Fiona's arms and shoulders, and, picking up the tray, moved quietly from the room.

Persuading Fiona to have her supper in bed had taken far longer than Christabel had expected it to. It meant that she now had less than half an hour in which to get ready.

Even so, she felt elated by George's reaction when she went into the sitting room where he was enjoying a sherry while he waited for her. Immaculate in evening dress, his green gaze moved appreciatively from her shining cap of hair to her high-heeled sandals and back up again with a smile of complete approval.

Christabel slipped the filmy lace shawl she was carrying round her shoulders. ‘Ready?'

He grinned. ‘Your carriage awaits!' With an exaggerated bow he crooked his arm, so that she could slip her hand into it.

They made the short drive almost in silence. When they reached the Carlton Casino, he seemed to be both amused and delighted by her reaction, as well as by the attention they received as he escorted her inside.

Once they were seated, he ordered their food and selected the wines without deferring to her at all.

It was the first time she had been anywhere in St Moritz, apart from accompanying Fiona to look at the many exquisite shops, and she was very impressed by her surroundings. The lighting came from massive crystal chandeliers, there
were heavy, loganberry-red draped curtains at the enormous windows, and the sumptuous seating was upholstered in a matching fabric. Everything blended so harmoniously that it was the perfect background for the elegant diners.

Christabel was aware that a number of the people present seemed to know George. Men acknowledged his presence with friendly nods and a number of the ladies smiled in his direction.

He responded in kind but made no move to join any of the other parties, or to introduce Christabel to anyone and, although she appreciated that she had his whole attention, it did make her feel rather like Cinderella.

When the dancing started George was on his feet at once, leading her out on to the floor. With one arm firmly round her slim waist, he guided her into the rhythm of waltz, fox-trot and polka with the ease of a skilled dancer.

To Christabel, already light-headed from the wine, it was intoxicating. She had always enjoyed dancing but she had never had such a skilled partner before. It was as if they were floating on a cushion of air, their steps faultlessly matched, and their bodies swaying in perfect unison to the music.

At any other time, she might have found the intricate jazz numbers far too complicated to follow, but, under the golden glow from the glittering chandeliers, it was as if every step she took synchronised perfectly with his.

As they circled the dance floor while the band played the final waltz, she began to wonder if Fiona was all right and to feel just a little guilty about deserting her.

When they arrived back, George ordered the driver to wait as he escorted her to the door and exchanged a few brief words with Madame Frederique, who assured him that Fiona had not awakened all evening.

After George left, when Madame Frederique insisted that she must have a glass of hot milk and some arrowroot biscuits before she retired, Christabel suspected that Madame was hoping for a detailed account of her evening's entertainment.

Although she had never felt more alert, or so wide awake, Christabel had no intention of sharing such secrets with her. The night had been a revelation to her, and not only about George and his lifestyle; it had also made her realise how lonely she was. She desperately wanted to go to her room to analyse every minute detail of what had taken place.

Making the pretence of smothering a yawn, she took the tray from Madam Frederique's hands and went straight to her room, not even pausing to look in on Fiona to check if she was all right.

Christabel knew that even though the relationship between her and George was purely platonic, keeping it hidden from Fiona was not going to be easy even though they both agreed that it seemed to be the sensible thing to do.

Fiona led such a sheltered existence that she was alert to even the slightest change in the daily pattern of what was going on around her. Three weeks later, when they'd returned from one of their afternoon drives, and George had asked her if she would like to go out with him again that evening, Christabel was aware that Fiona was listening to their conversation and she felt uneasy.

A few minutes later, when Fiona challenged them about what she and George had been whispering about, Christabel realised that her hesitation and their surreptitious exchange of glances had alerted Fiona that there really was something between them that she knew nothing about.

Fiona did not pursue the subject, but Christabel knew her well enough to realise that her curiosity had been aroused and that she probably wouldn't
let the matter drop until she had ferreted out the whole story.

Before George left, he found the opportunity to tell Christabel that he had made the same arrangements as before and that Madame Frederique was happy to look after Fiona that evening as she had done on the previous occasion.

Christabel felt uncertain about whether or not to go through with it. She enjoyed his company and appreciated that he accepted that she didn't want any involvement other than their being good friends. When she tried to explain her misgivings to George, however, he became annoyed and dismissed her worries about leaving Fiona knowing they were socialising together as ridiculous.

‘All we do is eat, talk and dance together, so what harm is there in that, for goodness' sake?'

‘None whatsoever, and I very much enjoy your company,' she admitted.

‘Good, because I enjoy yours. It's refreshing to find an attractive girl who is a good listener. It must be your guilty conscience,' he teased.

‘There's nothing for me to have a guilty conscience about since we've both agreed we are simply good friends and we both want it to remain that way. As I've already said, it's leaving Fiona which is worrying me. Supposing she is taken ill while we are out and I'm not there to look after her?'

He shrugged dismissively. ‘If you feel uneasy
about coming out with me tonight, then forget I ever asked you. I'll call for you anyway, in case you change your mind,' he muttered as he moved towards the door.

Cheeks burning, Christabel retreated back into the room feeling annoyed as well as hurt and humiliated at being treated in such a cavalier manner.

She was acutely aware that Fiona had witnessed what had happened. She saw the cunning look on her pale face and a malicious gleam in her blue eyes. She waited for her to say something, but Fiona remained mute, a half-smile playing on her pale lips as if she was enjoying the situation.

For the rest of the evening Fiona was unbelievably obedient, almost docile. So much so that Christabel felt increasingly apprehensive and wondered what she was up to.

Fiona accepted that her supper would be served in her room as soon as she was in bed without demur. She didn't even ask Christabel to read to her. The moment she had finished eating, she reached for her teddy and snuggled down to sleep without any fuss whatsoever.

‘I feel so tired, I think it must be all the fresh air this afternoon,' she murmured, as she slid down under the covers and allowed Christabel to tuck them in around her shoulders.

Christabel's heart was stirred by the sight of the outline of the skeletal-thin figure which barely raised a mound under the silken covers.

As she was leaving the room, she paused for a moment and looked back. Fiona's face, framed by its halo of fair hair, looked so ethereal against the lace-trimmed pillows and Christabel felt a stab of guilt about leaving her, even though she knew that Madame Frederique would take every care of her.

It was a fleeting thought and quickly surpassed by the sudden rush of excitement as she recalled that, within the hour, she could be back at the Carlton Casino enjoying her evening with George, if that was what she wanted.

The memories of their previous visits, the delicious food, the glamorous setting, the glittering lights, the sophisticated crowd and the exciting music they had danced to filled her head as she hurried to get ready.