The pretty witch

by Lucy Gillen

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LUCIFER, so it appeared, firmly intended keeping to his vow that he would, as he had termed it, stay in his own league. He treated Isobel with friendly politeness, but never once during the week or so that followed her panicstricken visit to the lodge did he call her anything but a very proper Isobel, and she had to admit that she missed the various Italian endearments he had regaled her with before. Perhaps, she thought, he cared about Vanessa Law's opinion more than he cared to admit. Nigel, now increasingly mobile, demanded more and more of her free time and she knew that sooner or later he would almost inevitably repeat his wish that she should go back with him to Frome's when he returned himself, full time. They had walked together towards the seat at the end of the garden, overlooking the valley. With September already a day or two old, the evenings were drawing in and, even so early as this, the valley was too hazily dark to see anything other than the black bulk of the hills against the sky, although an old moon would soon lend a pallid light to the scene.Now that he needed only one stick to help him to walk Nigel could spare an arm to encircle her shoulders, hugging her close as they came to the seat and stood for a moment under the tall elm that shaded it on sunny days. 'You're very quiet,' he told her, turning her round to face him and managing very well with his one free arm. Isobel smiled. 'Am I? I didn't realize.' 'In fact,' he informed her, peering down at her in the 166 dusk, 'you've been more than usually quiet for the past few days. There's nothing wrong, is there? I mean nothing to do with your job or - Luke?' 'No, of course not!' 'You're quite sure?' 'Quite sure,' Isobel insisted. 'I'm maybe just a little quieter than usual, that's all, Nigel.' She laughed softly, trying to see his face. 'It's the autumn coming on, it always makes me feel rather sad somehow, though I can't think why it should.' He hugged her closer again and his lips brushed her brow gently. 'I wish I could persuade you to come back with me to London, darling. I shall miss you terribly, you know.' ^ 'I think I shall miss you quite a lot too,' Isobel confessed, 'but I shall see you at week-ends, so it won't be too bad, will it?' 'Bad enough,' Nigel retorted, 'especially when the roads get snowed up in the winter. You know,' he added, 'I don't think you realize how bleak and inhospitable it can be here in the middle of winter.' Isobel laughed. 'Oh, really, Nigel, anyone would think it was the North Pole instead of the west midlands! You do exaggerate so.' 'Indeed I don't,' he denied stoutly. 'Don't forget I was brought up here, I know it better than you do.'It's like the Antarctic when the weather's really bad.' 'Does Lucifer go away in the winter?' She could sense mm looking at her curiously although she could no longer see him very clearly. 'No, he doesn't, Why?' Isobel shrugged. Well, I just wondered, because he was more or less brought up in Italy according to you, so if he can stand the Gotswold winters, so can I.' He sighed his regret and sat down on the bench, pulling 167. her down beside him. 'I'm fighting a losing battle, aren't I?' he asked, resignedly. 'You'll never change your mind.' 'I don't know about never,' Isobel demurred. 'I don't imagine for one minute that I shall spend the rest of my life here, but at the moment it suits me to stay, Nigel, and I shall. At least until Lucifer gives me the sack anyway,' she added, and laughed at the unlikelihood of that happening. He sighed again, holding her hand and squeezing it hard. 'I wish I'd never even mentioned that wretched job to you, or you to Luke,' he declared. 'Things aren't working out at all as I planned they should.' 'I'm sorry, Nigel.' 'So am I,' he retorted, his arm tightening on her shoulders. 'Damn Luke, anyway, why can't he give you the sack, then you'd have to come back with me.' That's very unkind and very selfish,' Isobel told him. 'It's the way I feel.' He sat for a moment silent and uncommunicative, then he turned her to face him and lifted her chin. 'Isobel. Isobel, I know you've more or less made up your mind already about staying, but I must ask you again. Will you marry me?' She was,silent for several seconds,'-seeking the right words, knowing that whatever she said he would misinterpret it because he wanted only to hear one thing. 'I I can't, Nigel.' 'Can't or won't?' Disappointment put a hard edge on his voice and the arm that held her tightened possessively. 'I love you, Isobel, and you can't say that I haven't known you long enough to be certain about that. As you reminded me yourself, it's four years now, and I've grown more and more certain in all that time. I want to marry you and I will eventually, no matter how long you prevaricate.' 168 'I'm not prevaricating,' she objected. 'I just have to be certain I want to get married, and at the moment I'm sure I don't.' He sighed, resigned again. 'All right, I accept your judgment, but I'll wait. I'll wait until you're old and grey if I have to, but nothing will ever change my mind.'. She sought to lighten the somewhat tense atmosphere he had created, and laughed softly. 'I'm very flattered,' she told him, 'but if I keep you waiting until I'm old and grey you'll probably have found someone else to marry long before then, and it will serve me right.' 'Never,' he vowed. 'I'm not Luke, I'm a one-girl man.' Isobel smiled, wondering how Lucifer had managed yet again to get into their conversation. 'I can't believe that,' she said. 'You must have taken out other girls before me.' 'Of course I have,' he agreed. 'I've taken out quite a few at various times, but that was before I met you and before I realized how I felt about you. When I say I'm a one-girl man, I mean I've never been really serious about anyone but you.' ( 'Oh, I see.' She was thoughtful for a while. 'Does that mean that Lucifer is serious about more than onewoman?' she asked, and Nigel frowned his dislike. 'How in heaven's name do I know when Luke's serious about his women?' he asked shortly. 'I seldom see him and we certainly never discuss anything as intimate as that. Anyway,' he added, 'we're not discussing Luke, we're talking about you and me.' 'We've already talked about you and me,' Isobel said. 'I'm staying on here, Nigel, for as long as the job lasts or , until I get tired of it, depending on which happens first.' 'Well, in that case I hope you soon get fed up,' he delog dared, then got to his feet again, ready to walk back, his arm going round her waist. They walked in silence for a while, then Isobel looked up at him, better able to see his face now that they were nearer the house. 'You'll probably find there've been some changes when you get back,' she told him. 'Some new attractions, maybe. After all, you've been away getting on for six months.' 'And I've been back once or twice lately,' he reminded her. There was nothing excitingly different that I noticed.' 'No blonde dolly-birds?' Isobel teased. 'YOU know I don't fall for dolly-birds,' he retorted, and Isobel laughed. Thank you. I have been referred to as one in my time, but if you say so ' He shook his head, taking her quite seriously it seemed. Well, you're not,' he said firmly. 'I know you're young, but you're also clever enough to know that an excess of anything is laughable rather than attractive.' Thank you.' 'Oh, you know what I mean,3 he insisted. 'Your minis are just mini enough and your midis are never frumpish.' He hugged her close and kissed her as they came across the lawn to the house. 'In fact,' he added, 'you're utterly and completely adorable.' 'You are in a flattering mood tonight,8 she smiled. Usually Nigel's compliments were few and far between and always rather restrained. It seemed almost as if he was hoping to influence her to change her mind about going back with him, by changing his tactics. 'I'm not flattering you,' he insisted. 'I'm telling you the truth.' He stopped them just short of the long rectangle of light that fell across the lawn from the open french windows. He turned her to face him, lifting her chin, his 170 eyes a deep, dark blue in the diffused light. 'I shall dream about you every night,' he vowed earnestly, 'and live only for week-ends.' 'And let your business suffer,' she teased him. T can't have you doing that, Nigel. I tell you what I'll do, I'll give you a life-size photograph of myself and then you can gaze at it as long as you like until you get tired of looking at me.' 'Never!' He gathered her close to him in his one free arm, and his mouth on hers had an urgent, hungry appeal as he kissed her. 'I'll never get tired of looking at you,' he vowed, and held her close, his face resting on the softness of her hair. 'But I will have a picture of you, my darling,' he told her. 'A big one so that I can gaze at you as often as I like.' They stood like that for several minutes and only the soft,
secret sounds of the autumn night broke the silence, surrounding them like a dark shawl. 'Darling.' . 'Hmm?' -There's something I'd rather have. Better than a photograph.' Isobel raised her head and looked up at him curiously What's that?' He brushed his lips against her forehead and she thought there was a curious, slightly malicious smile , touching his mouth. The drawing that Cal Ford did of you.' 'But I haven't got it, Nigel, you know that.' She wished she was more sure, suddenly, of the fate of the sketch that Lucifer had had done of her and she wondered too if Nigel had asked for it with any ulterior motive in mind. 'I know you haven't got it,' he agreed, ,'but you could get it for me.' 'From Lucifer?' 'You said he'd kept it,' he pointed out. 'I expect he's still got it.' , 7i Isobel traced a line down from his collar to the top button on his jacket, her eyes following its progress. Then why can't you ask him for it?' she said. 'Because I think you'd stand more chance of succeeding than I would,' he told her bluntly. 'He'd never part with it if he thought I wanted it.' 'Oh, I'm sure he would,' Isobel argued, ignoring his frown at her defence of Lucifer. 'He's not petty like that, Nigel. If you really want the drawing, I'm sure he'd let you have it.' 'YOU won't ask him for me?' She shook her head. 'I'd rather not.' 'O.K.' He kissed her again before drawing her along with him again. 'I'll ask him myself, but he won't let me have it, you see. I know my big brother much better than you do, my darling, and he won't let me have it.' Nigel's opportunity to ask for the drawing he wanted so much, came on the following Sunday when Lucifer was lunching at the house again. He waited until they were at the coffee stage and then broached the subject, rather abruptly, since he hated asking Lucifer for anything, and his brother looked at him in silence for a moment or two, his black eyes curious. 'I don't quite see why you want a drawing,' he told him. 'You've got the original, haven't you?' 'Only at week-ends after next week,' Nigel told him shortly.. 'I'd like the drawing to hang in my flat. I'll pay you what you paid Gal Ford for it,' he added hastily, as if the financial aspect of it was the reason for Lucifer's hesitation. 'If you had it at all,' Lucifer told him quietly, 'I wouldn't dream of taking anything for it.' Nigel pounced on the betraying 'if, his brows already drawn into a frown, ready to argue. 'If I had it^ he said. 'I -172 suppose that means you're refusing to part with it?' Isobel, watching Lucifer's dark, expressive face, thought his mouth tightened fractionally, but he smiled a moment later and shrugged in that rather foreign way that Nigel despised so much. 'It was a roll of paper I slung into the back of the car on the day of the show,' he told his brother. 'Heaven alone knows where it is now.' Isobel felt a strangely hurt feeling at his casual dismissal of it, while Nigel positively glowered at him. 'Do you mean to say you've lost it?' he accused, and Lucifer shrugged again. 'Something like that, old sport. Sorry and all that.' 'YOU careless devil!' Nigel hated losing anything he had set his heart on. Isobel watched Lucifer still, puzzled by something in his manner. 'YOU know me,' he shrugged. 'Isobel says it was a good one too,' Nigel complained, and Lucifer nodded, his black eyes lowered in uncharacteristic reticence while his long fingers played with the spoon in his saucer. 'It was a good one,''he agreed quietly. 'And you had to go and lose it.' Lucifer looked up then, a small, shadowy frown between his black brows for Nigel's pettiness. 'You're making an awful fuss about a bit of paper with a sketch on,' he told him shortly. 'Instead you should be thanking your stars it isn't the original you've lost. Your trouble is, Nigel, you never know when you're well off.' Nigel looked at him in surprise for a moment, then he too shrugged resignedly. 'I suppose I am lucky,' he allowed. 'I shall be able to come and see Isobel every weekend; but I had set my heart on having that drawing.' Lucifer smiled wryly. 'Losing something you've set your heart on is supposed to be good for your immortal soul,' he said softly, and Isobel could not quite understand m why he looked at her when he said it. Mrs. Grayson had said nothing during the exchange between them, now she refilled Lucifer's coffee cup and smiled at him in a way that confirmed something at the back of Isobel's mind. There was something going on between Lucifer and his grandmother that they were not going to mention, and it was surprising to her that Nigel did not notice it too. Obviously he had not done so so far or he would have said something about it. Perhaps, she thought in a flash of inspiration, Lucifer had destroyed the drawing and Mrs. Grayson knew it, but they would not let Nigel know. 'As Lucifer says, dear,' Mrs. Grayson told Nigel, 'you still have Isobel, and she's far prettier than any drawing, I'm sure.' 'Of course she is.' Nigel leaned across and squeezed Isobel's hand. 'If only I could persuade her to come back with me and marry me!' ^ His grandmother smiled tolerantly. 'Never try to rush a girl into marriage, Nigel,' she told him. 'It can lead to so many regrets later on, and Isobel's very young.' 'Isobel's twenty-two,' Nigel told her bluntly. 'Almost the same age as Madge was when she married my father.' 'Your mother already had a divorce behind her then,' the old lady sighed, 'and a little boy to worry about. Let Isobel enjoy her freedom while she can, dear, she'll know her own mind one of these days.' She smiled at Isobel, her blue eyes strangely appealing. Won't you, Isobel dear?' 'I'll know,' Isobel agreed, hoping she would when the time came. 'And I'm in no hurry to settle down yet.' On the following Monday morning Lucifer had said he must go into Greenlaw to see someone urgently, but he made no offer this time to take her with him, and she 174 stayed at her typewriter, feeling rather cross and disappointed. "" It was during the morning that' she saw her empty coffee cup still standing on her desk and decided to take it back herself. Usually Beppo, Lucifer's man, had collected the coffee cups by now, but she supposed this morning he had simply forgotten it. Nothing loath to take a break from her typing, she left the office and found the cottage oddly silent, as if there was no one else there but herself, and she stood for a moment outside the kitchen door. 'Hello!' she called. 'Is anyone here?' It was possible, she supposed, that Lucifer had taken Beppo with him to do some shopping or something, but a moment later the kitchen door opened and the man's dark, soulful-looking eyes looked at her curiously. 'Si, signorina?' 'Oh! There you are.' She offered him the empty cup with a smile. 'You forgot to collect the empties,' she told him, and then realized suddenly that she had no idea at all if he spoke any English. She had only ever heard Lucifer speak to him in Italian. Whether he understood or not he smiled understanding and bobbed his black head in thanks. 'Grazie, signorina, grazie: He bobbed quickly back into the kitchen and left Isobel with the crazy desire to laugh because he reminded her of the little man in a weather-house, the way he had popped in and out so quickly. She turned and started back through the small hall, past the room where Lucifer had brought her on the night she had been so panic-stricken about that horrible effigy of herself. There was another door too, on the other side of the hallway, a bedroom, judging by what she could see through the narrow opening where it stood ajar. 275 She would have walked on and into the office again, but something caught her eye and stopped her dead in her tracks, her eyes wide and unbelieving. It was such a . big bedroom that it must be Lucifer's and facing her, right opposite the door, was the drawing he had denied knowing the fate of. A wary finger pushed the door just a fraction wider and she stared at the framed drawing. The sharp black charcoal lines stood out on the white background, her own features clear and unmistakable and she found herself smiling, a small secret smile that acknowledged the fact that Nigel must never ever know about this. She dared not linger too long for fear the manservant came out of the kitchen suddenly and caught her there, so she pulled the door to as it was before and almost tiptoed back to the office and her neglected typewriter. The following morning, Isobel frankly admitted that she would have given much to have relations as they had been before Lucifer's self-imposed formality. She would have liked to tease him about the drawing, although he would probably not take kindly to her wandering about his home while he was away. Anyway, she shrugged, he was far too formal and polite these days to allow her to indulge in anything like their former lighthearted banter. She found him already in the office when she came in, slightly early, his black head bent busil
y over a pile of work, and he did not even look up when she came in. 'Good morning.' She was determined not to be ignored. His head lifted briefly, and the black eyes smiled a , friendly greeting. 'Good morning, Isobel.' Still a very formal Isobel, she noted wryly, and only 276 briefly polite. She put her coat on its hanger and put bag and gloves tidily in a drawer before uncovering her typewriter. 'Are we going to be busy today?' she asked, and he again glanced up. 'Not too bad, I hope,' he told her. 'As you can see, I've made an early start.' 'I did notice,' she remarked, unable to resist the jibe. 'It's most unusual, isn't it?' For a moment the familiar imp of devilment glittered at her from across the room, and he half-smiled. 'I'll treat that with the contempt it deserves,' he told her. 'Now will you please get on with your own work and leave me to get on with mine?' 'Of course. I'm sorry.' There was verbal silence for a moment or two while Isobel banged away on her typewriter, then he looked up suddenly, sighed, and put down his pen. 'O.K.,' he said, 'I'm sorry I squashed you, now will you stop trying to wreck that poor innocent machinery?' 'I didn't know I was. The typewriter's never bothered you before.' The black eyes regarded her for a second or two, then he laughed, the first time he had done anything so informal for far too long, and she looked at him hopefully. The typewriter doesn't bother me now,' he told her, Ws your treatment of it that I'm complaining about. I can feel you being self-righteous even from here.' 'I was not being self-righteous,' she denied. 'I just don't like having my nose bitten off for no good reason, that's all.' 'It's a very nice' little nose,' His voice was soft and low and her spine tingled wamingly at the sound of it. She did not look at him but down at the paper guide which she flicked up and down with one finger, very 177 tempted again to mention the drawing she had inadvertently discovered. 'Lucifer.' 'Hmm?' He was still watching her, she knew, although she refused to look at him. That drawing - the one Cal Ford did of me at the show.' What about it?' Her hesitation was only brief. 'Have you really lost it?' His chin rested on one hand, the elbow propped on his desk, black eyes regarding her steadily. 'Are you calling me a liar?' he asked softly, and she shook her head hastily, wishing now she had not mentioned it. He was far too astute and far too good at reading her mind, and it was just possible he would tumble to the fact that she'd seen the drawing. Then she would be required to explain how she came to see it. 'Of course I'm not calling you a liar,' she denied. 'It's just that Nigel was so sure you wouldn't let him have it and you seemed ' She raised her eyes at last and looked at him briefly. 'Evasive,' she decided at last, and saw him frown. He looked down at the work in front of him again, a closed look on his face that was strange to her, and which she recognized meant he was not going to say any more on the subject, 'It seems rather a lot of fuss to make about a small sketch that's only worth a few shillings,' he 'said quietly. 'Now can we please get on with some work?' 'Yes, of course. I'm sorry.' She felt it rather an anticlimax and she rolled another piece of paper into her machine with fingers that shook rather. 'Actually,' she said as off-handedly as she knew how, 'I've been wondering if I should take Nigel's advice and do as he wants me to. Go back to London with him,' she added to make sure 178 there was no mistake, and felt a small flutter of satisfaction at the momentary stunned look she saw on his face. He was silent for quite a long time, his whole attention apparently concentrated on the pen he was twirling between his fingers. 'It might be a good idea,' he told her at last, and Isobel stared at him. T -1 beg your pardon?' His attention was still with the twirling pen and he did not raise his eyes. 'I was agreeing with you,' he said quietly. , 'You - you mean you're telling me to go? You're dismissing me?' She could scarcely believe she had understood him aright, but when he looked up at last he was nodding. 'Not in so many words,' he said, 'but I'll take your notice to leave as from today if you like, and then you can leave when Nigel goes next week.' Isobel had never in all her life felt so utterly stunned and lifeless. Even her fingers were suddenly stiff as she flicked the paper guide automatically, her eyes blank and darkly grey with that hot, prickly feeling at the back of them as if she would cry at any moment. 'I - I'm sorry if I haven't been very efficient,' she managed at last, in a voice that sounded horribly choked. 'I thought you were quite satisfied with my work.' 'Oh, I am,' he assured her. 'If you needed a reference I'd give you an excellent one without any hesitation.' Then why ' she began, and a moment later bit her lip as the answer became only too clear to her. Of course, she should have known that Vanessa Law would probably issue an ultimatum which he could no longer ignore if he wanted to continue their association. 'It doesn't matter, of course,' she told him. 'I think I understand.' For a moment the black eyes held hers steadily and her m blood raced through her veins, making her head throb, then he shook his head and hid his gaze again. 'I doubt if you do,' he said softly. 'I - I leave a week today?' It was staggering how suddenly cold and empty she felt. 'You can leave on Friday,' he said, 'then you can go back with Nigel on Sunday.' Thank you.' It sounded oddly stiff and formal and he glanced up curiously. What for?' 'For - for not making me work out a month's notice.' He laughed shortly. 'I'm not giving you a month's notice either,' he reminded her dryly. Will - will you be able to get someone else so quickly? To finish the last chapters,' she added hastily, and he shrugged, still not looking at her. 'Oh, we'll get those done by the end of this week,' he said, and the familiar 'we' almost shattered her self-control. 'Yes - yes, of course.' She stared at the blank page in her machine, and gave herself a mental shake. It was no use letting the suddenness of it make her miserable, and at least Nigel would be pleased. She would, she thought, probably marry him quite soon and settle down, for all of a sudden she saw the prospect of life as a secretary far less attractive. Office routine and business letters would never have the same appeal again after typing Lucifer's manuscripts. 'After that,' he said unexpectedly, 'I'm off to Italy for a couple of months for a break.' 'Oh! Oh, I see. I didn't realize that.' Somehow it helped a bit to know that he would be away for quite a while after she left and that her dismissal had another reason than Vanessa Law's jealousy behind it. 'I haven't seen my father for quite some time now,' he told her, 'and I rather miss Italy when I stay away too 180 long.' She hoped she sounded only casually interested, and that her voice didn't shake too much. 'I expect you do,' she said. 'It's very beautiful, isn't it?' The black eyes sought hers, but she refused to meet them. 'Beautiful,' he said softly. 'You've never been?' 'No.' 'You should, you'd love it.' Her laugh, she knew, sounded breathless and rather forced as she pushed the carriage along ready to start work again. 'Maybe we'll spend our honeymoon there,' she told him, and almost felt the silence that followed. 'Maybe,' he said at last, and she thought there was sadness in the way he said it, so that she raised her eyes swiftly to look at him, and as hastily lowered them again. i8i