Lord of Misrule Page 11

  They stood there, glaring at each other in the suddenly shattering silence. Then Sebastian, his voice glacial, said through gritted teeth, ‘Well, thank you very much. At least I know where I stand.’ And he turned on his heel and strode away, slamming the door behind him.

  Verity slumped against the half-stripped wall, realising that she’d driven him away. Oh, no, she thought, and wondered whether to run after him and try and make it up, but at the same moment knew that he was too angry to listen. Then the door opened and she stared up with hope in her eyes, only to have it dashed when Paula came in.

  ‘What was all that about?’ the other girl demanded with avid curiosity.

  ‘Oh, you heard.’

  ‘Of course. It sounded as if you two were having a hell of a fight.’

  ‘We were,’ Verity said feelingly, but then remembered what it had been about and hastily added, ‘Or rather, we were just having a difference of opinion.”

  ‘What about?’ Paula repeated insistently.

  ‘Oh—er—politics,’ Verity lied feebly.

  ‘Politics?’ Paula stared at her in disbelief. ‘But surely Sebastian wouldn’t get that heated over something like that? After all, he is civilised. You must have…’ Her voice trailed off as she eyed Verity narrowly. ‘Are you telling me to mind my own business?’

  ‘I think that might be quite a good idea now that you mention it, yes.’ Verity turned her back on Paula and began to vigorously jab at the wallpaper.

  ‘Really? How interesting. You and Sebastian.’ Paula gave a catlike grin that Verity found infuriating. ‘So how long has this been going on?’

  There is nothing going on,’ Verity said with precise emphasis.

  Paula came to stand beside her. ‘You’re making holes in the wall/ she pointed out maddeningly. ‘You know, you never did tell me where you’d got to on the night I was taken ill; you just said that you’d gone for a walk. Could it have been for a spot of moonlight canoodling with Sebastian, I wonder?’ And when she saw the colour rush to Verity’s cheeks she clapped her hands and said, ‘I’m right! I knew it. Well, well, well. You old sly-boots. Why didn’t you tell me?I

  ‘There’s nothing to tell,’ Verity said crossly. Then, immediately contrite, said, ‘Paula, I’m so terribly sorry—for that night. I shouldn’t have gone. I should have stayed here with you. But it won’t happen again, I can definitely promise you that,’ she added fervently.

  ‘Really? Sebastian might have something to say about that,’ Paula said jokingly, but then saw Verity’s eyes shadow and immediately jumped to all the right conclusions. ‘Is that what you were rowing about just now? It was, wasn’t it?’ And when Verity nodded shamefacedly she said roundly, ‘Then you’re a fool, Verity. Don’t you know that no woman should ever let anyone else come between her and the man she wants? And you do want Sebastian, don’t you?’

  But that was going too far, even for Paula. A closed look came into Verity’s face and she turned away. ‘I really don’t have any feelings about him at all,’ she ‘aid shortly.

  Paula gave her back an amused, contemplative look. ‘I think I’ll wear my new evening dress this weekend,’ she said musingly.

  Verity swung round in surprise. ‘Why, is it a special occasion?’

  ‘Not yet, but it could be,’ Paula said almost coquettishly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Verity demanded, knowing her friend of old and immediately suspicious.

  Paula merely smiled and made for the door, but turned as she reached it and said over her shoulder, ‘Well, if you’re not interested in Sebastian, maybe I’ll make a play for him myself!’

  ‘Paula!’ But Verity was talking to a closed door. She stood there for a few moments, looking after Paula fumingly, but then turned to start work again and caught sight of herself in the mirror over the fireplace. Old jeans and baggy sweater, her hair tied back from her head with a piece of ribbon and bits of wallpaper stuck to her; she looked dreadful. Verity gave a howling groan of anger and threw the scraper at the wall in frustrated rage.

  Paula wore one of her new maternity dresses to dinner that evening, and she had also gone to town with her make-up so that she looked very fragile and lovely. She shot Verity a wicked glance, and during dinner announced that she had booked a table at a restaurant for Saturday night and was taking them all out for a meal. ‘Just as a small thank-you for all your kindness to me,’ she told them.

  That will be lovely,’ Maggie beamed. ‘But you really don’t have to, you know.’

  ‘I want to,’ Paula insisted. She looked at Sebastian laughingly. ‘But I think having to escort three ladies will be rather too much for poor Sebastian, so, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to invite Piers Fielding as well. He’s my ex-boss,’ she explained for Maggie’s and Sebastian’s benefit.

  ‘Of course. Perhaps you’d like to invite him for the weekend?’

  ‘If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. And if he can make it, of course.’

  Verity gave her a surprised, speculative look, wondering why she had chosen to invite Piers down. Paula caught her eye and immediately guessed her thoughts, but only gave her a teasing, ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’ look and turned lo talk to Sebastian. Paula was obviously in one of her maddening moods, Verity decided in annoyance, knowing that she wouldn’t get her friend to tell her anything until she was good and ready. And she was in sparkling form too, drawing Sebastian out and making him laugh with her own anecdotes on life in Bahrain. Maggie, Verity noticed, was watching the two of them in amusement, but once or twice there was a contemplative look in her eyes. I wonder if she hopes the two of them will marry? The thought entered Verity’s mind and made her feel suddenly cold. From Maggie’s point of view it would be an ideal arrangement, of course; then there would be no fear of her losing this beautiful home, of having to change a life-style which she must love. And Sebastian? Wouldn’t it be a perfect solution for him too? The cruel thought came into her mind and wouldn’t go away. Then he would still have control of the estate and the use of all the money that went with it. And he would have Paula, who was lovely enough to make any man want her.

  Her face set and tense, Verity shifted her gaze to Sebastian and saw that he was listening to Paula with laughter in his eyes. But, as if he felt her eyes on him, he half turned and glanced at Verity. His face changed, lost the laughter, grew withdrawn. Then he deliberately turned back to Paula, leaving Verity feeling as if she had been publicly spurned.

  The evening wasn’t a very pleasant one, with Paula at her most mischievous, Sebastian following her lead, and Maggie at a loss to know what it was all about. Verity was just glad when it was over. She spent the next day working alone in the nursery while Paula went into Melford with Maggie to register with a doctor and go back to the hospital for a check-up. At mid-morning Verity broke off for a mug of coffee, which she drank sitting on the deep window-seat of the nursery. It was another beautiful day, the early morning mists having evaporated away, leaving the garden a rich gold in the sunlight. Verity couldn’t resist it. She remembered that she needed to buy a book of stamps and post some letters, so she quickly changed, put on a jacket and set off to walk to the village, taking the short cut through the grounds.

  She hadn’t walked to the village before; they had always driven there in the car because it was too far for Paula, but this morning she strode out, glad to exercise her legs instead of keeping pace with Paula’s slower steps. Despite the cloud in her life where Sebastian was concerned, the sun made her feel good this morning. Young and vital and alive. She jumped up and caught at the branch of a tree, sending a shower of leaves falling, and gingerly picked up a handful of horse-chestnuts, which she dropped into the river, leaning over the rail of the bridge and feeling no fear now as she looked down at the sluice.

  Whenever she had reached this point before, she had turned off on to the path through the woods that took one round the edge of the estate, but this time she kept on the track and a few hundred yards further along came to a cotta
ge where she knew that Mr and Mrs Chivers lived. It was quite a small place, a typical gamekeeper’s cottage, except that the garden was overgrown and had a high and strong fence round it. Today was the Chivers’ day off, and there was no smoke coming from the chimney, but as Verity approached there was the sound of loud barking and a big Alsatian dog bounded up to the fence, jumping up against it and leaving Verily in no doubt as to why the fence was so strong.

  Having lived most of her life at boarding-school and in a city, Verity wasn’t very familiar with animals. She hesitated, wondering whether the dog could get out, but the gate was securely padlocked and she fell confident enough to go closer. The dog didn’t like it, however; she was definitely on his territory, and he snarled ferociously. ‘Hello,’ she said to him pla-catingly, but this overture only made him bare his teeth and growl menacingly. ‘Chump, I’m not going to hurt you. Lord, I’m glad we’re on different sides of the fence.’ Verity looked pityingly at the dog, thinking how wild he looked and wondering if he was kept shut up in that small garden all the lime. She went quickly past, and pushed the thought of the poor animal out of her mind as she enjoyed the rest of her walk.

  h was a pretty village, but very small, with just a general-stores-cum-post-office, one pub and the church, to serve a hundred or so houses and the outlying farms. After buying her stamps and walking from one end of it to the other, there was nothing to do but to turn round and walk back to the house.

  Sebastian had gone away on business that day and didn’t come back until Saturday morning. At first Verity thought that it would be a relief from tension to have him go away, but found instead that she missed him more than ever. All three women went into Melford quite early in the morning to have their hair dofie at Maggie’s hairdresser’s, and when they got back Sebastian’s car was parked outside the house. Verity immediately felt her heart leap in her chest, but

  It was Paula who said eagerly, ‘Oh, good, Sebastian’s home.’

  He came into the hall to meet them as they entered the house, and went first to his mother and kissed her on the cheek. Then it was Paula’s turn, but she laughingly gave him her lips instead of her cheek. Sebastian grinned lazily down at her. ‘You look very lovely today.’

  ‘Thank you, kind sir. You will be rewarded in heaven for that compliment. I’m in dire need of them at the moment.’

  Then it was Verity’s turn to be greeted. He turned to her, his glance going swiftly, warily, to her face— but what he saw there made his eyes widen in recognition. Going to him, Verity put an unsteady hand on his shoulder, said huskily, ‘Hello, Sebastian,’ and quickly kissed him on the cheek before he could react.

  He put out a hand to catch her arm as she turned immediately away, but remembered his mother and Paula and reluctantly drew back, his eyes following her.

  Verity made a point of keeping out of his way until Piers Fielding arrived just before lunch, when they all met up again. She had met Piers before, of course, when Paula had worked for him before she was married, and had always liked him in a casual way. He was a bachelor—but not quite confirmed yet, as he told everyone—and had a great artistic sense without at all being able to create any work of art. So he devoted himself to the creation of beautiful rooms instead, and, as he had a sound business sense, was very successful, with showrooms in Paris and New York as well as London. Piers wras quite a bit older than the girls, nearly forty, and pleasant-looking rather than handsome, generous to people he liked, and had an unexpected sense of humour, so that Verity tended to think of him in an avuncular way.

  He came loaded down with presents: chocolates and flowers for the women, and a very good bottle of brandy which he told Sebastian he was going to share with him.

  ‘Good heavens. Piers! All these gorgeous presents. Have you had a win on the horses or something?’ Paula exclaimed, her arms full of flowers.

  ‘Far better than that, my darling girl. And far less risky, too. I’ve got a contract to do a sultan’s new palace,’ he said exultantly.

  ‘Not the one you were telling me about? How marvellous! Come and tell us all about it over lunch.’

  Piers was an ideal guest, keeping them all amused during the meal and then going off with Paula for a walk round the garden that took up most of the afternoon. Sebastian had gone out to keep an appointment with an architect, and so Verity was left with nothing to do but work on the nursery. She had got to the rubbing-down-paintwork stage, and chose that afternoon to do the window that looked out over the garden. From there she could see Piers and Paula quite clearly most of the time as they wandered apparently aimlessly round the garden. It looked as if Paula was doing most of the talking, and very earnestly, too, often stopping and gesturing with her arms as if she was trying to convince Piers of something. A puzzled frown on her face, Verity stopped work to watch them, wondering what Paula was up to. Then she shrugged and gave up, knowing that Paula would eventually tell her. That was the advantage of knowing someone really well—although Paula enjoyed having little secrets, Verity knew that she wouldn’t be able to resist confiding in her before too long.

  At five o’clock Verity remembered that Paula had that new evening dress to wear, and decided she had better put some work into making herself look as good as possible if she was going to compete. That she could compete she was quite confident; although she was not fragile-looking like Paula, Verity’s slim figure and beautiful hair attracted just as much attention. And tonight she wanted to look especially good.

  They were to meet in the sitting-room for an aperitif before leaving for the restaurant. The men and Maggie were down first, and Verity gracefully allowed Paula the privilege of being last down to show off the new dress. She was wearing her own favourite, a flame-red dress of velvet and silk that set her hair on fire, hair that she had drawn back from her face in a mass of curls. The dress had a bow on one shoulder, leaving the other bare, and fitted to her hips where there was another, much larger bow, and the skirt swirled out to her knees. The dress had drawn appreciative eyes

  before and she hoped it would tonight, or at least one pair of eyes.

  Verity ran lightly down the stairs and paused for a second before pushing open the sitting-room door. Sebastian was at the drinks tray and had his back to her, but Maggie exclaimed, ‘Verity, how stunning! What a beautiful dress.’

  Verity thanked her smilingly and returned the compliment, watching Sebastian out of the corner of her eye, knowing he had heard. But Piers came up to her and said, ‘I’ve a good mind to kidnap you for my sultan; you would go beautifully with a room I have in mind for him.’

  ‘But I wouldn’t want to be just an ornament for anyone,’ she pointed out, only half-jokingly.

  ‘No, and I’m very much afraid he wouldn’t treat you as one for very long if all I’ve heard about him is true,’ Piers said with an exaggerated wink.

  ‘Like that, huh?’

  ‘Yes, he has quite a reputation.’

  Piers went on talking, but Verity was looking at Sebastian. He finished pouring the drinks and turned with them in his hands. He took a pace forward then stopped, his eyes riveted on her. His gaze stayed on her face for a moment, then travelled down to her feet and slowly back again. And during those few seconds she read first admiration, and then an intensifying awareness that grew into desire as his eyes darkened. But it wasn’t lust that was in his eyes; this was no mental stripping from a lascivious male. Verity felt not degraded but coveted, not cheapened but openly found attractive. And the knowledge was like a warm glow to her heart.

  ‘Sebastian?’

  His mother’s amused reminder brought him back to reality. Sebastian’s eyes crinkled into a wry grin. ‘Sorry, Verity quite took my breath away.’ He gave out the drinks and said to Verity, ‘Your usual vodka and tonic?’

  ‘Please.’

  She moved to the sideboard to take it from him. He put the glass into her hand, but didn’t let go for a moment and she saw that there was a strange, almost self-mocking look in his grey eyes. But
the desire was still there, of that she was sure. He was about to say something, but just then the door opened and Paula made her grand entrance. Sebastian’s eyes went to her over Verity’s head—and stayed there.

  Black suited Paula. She looked very lovely in that dress of black lace, her hair taken to the back of her head in a style that increased her look of fragility. Like a delicate china doll that might break if it wasn’t handled with loving care, Verity thought, as she turned round. But then she saw the mischief deep in Paula’s eyes and her lips twitched. ‘You look fantastic,’ she said aloud and went to kiss Paula on the cheek, but

  in her ear whispered, ‘The merry widow?’ ‘Of course,’ Paula whispered back. ‘The scarlet woman?’ ‘Not quite.’ Verity drew back and their eyes met, full of silent laughter and understanding. The others, especially Piers, were quick to add their own compliments, which Paula accepted with easy grace, but then she’d had plenty of practice. ‘What an unworthy pair we are, Sebastian, to have the company of three such beautiful women,’ Piers remarked gallantly.

  ‘Nonsense, you both look gorgeous. Don’t they?’ Paula appealed. She slipped her hand through Piers’ arm. ‘It isn’t like you to be so humble.’

  He gave a shout of laughter. ‘Hoist with my own compliment.’

  Sebastian took a glass of Perrier water over to Paula and she deliberately looked up into his eyes as she took it from him. He smiled back, his eyes amused, willing to go along with her in this game she was playing. But he knows it’s a game. Verity thought; he knows she isn’t really flirting with him. But even as she thought the words, a tiny flicker of doubt touched at the edge of her mind; was that what she wanted to believe?

  She pushed the thought aside determinedly, and they were a merry party as they arrived at the restaurant that Paula had chosen. There another surprise awaited them in the amiable form of James Gillis, a bridge-playing friend of Maggie’s whom Paula had invited to even up the number. They had been given a round table, but Paula, in the mischievous mood she was in, arranged the seating to suit herself, putting Verity between Piers and James Gillis and herself between Piers and Sebastian. But Verity didn’t mind—in fact, she almost welcomed it; she wanted to see how Sebastian would behave towards her this evening without any prompting on her own part. The food was good and the service efficient and unobtrusive, the conversation light and general, no two people pairing off into long discussions, shutting out the others. And the atmosphere in the restaurant was pleasant, too, with a small group who played softly enough not to intrude, but loudly enough for