Legacy of the Past

by Anne Mather

  ‘I shall be out tomorrow evening.’

  Diana shrugged. ‘So shall I. I’m going to the club with Jeff.’

  ‘I’m not going out with Adrian,’ went on Madeline, ‘so do you want to know where I’m going?’

  For a moment Diana was motionless, and then she said coldly:

  ‘I imagine, seeing that you are telling me with such deliberate intention, that you must be meeting Nicholas Vitale. I wasn’t to know he was back in the country.’

  ‘He’s not; at least not yet.’

  Diana grimaced. ‘Look, Mother, we’ll have to agree to differ on this. I don’t know what you imagine will come of it, but I’m sure if my father knew about it, he would turn in his grave.’

  Wearily Madeline ran a hand over her hair.

  ‘Joe was no prude, Diana. You are!’

  ‘Prude? Me, a prude?’ Diana was hurt and angry. Jeff had called her that only the previous evening when she had objected to the intensity of his kisses. ‘Mother, I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.’

  Madeline felt awful. That Diana should maintain an air of injured dignity was one thing, but for her to say that she was thinking of her mother’s feelings was an entirely different thing.

  ‘Darling, I won’t get hurt!’ she protested. ‘Nick isn’t like that. If only you would try to understand. Be sociable. Get to know him properly. You might even like him!’

  Diana turned her face away, averting her eyes.

  ‘Do you intend to go on with it, then?’

  Madeline felt frustrated. ‘Of course. Why not?’

  ‘We’ve been so happy,’ exclaimed Diana passionately, ‘and now you want to spoil everything!’

  ‘How? If I married Nick, how would that spoil everything?’

  ‘Married? Oh, Mother, I’m sure marriage hasn’t even entered his head! You’re living on cloud number nine.’

  ‘Diana, don’t speak to me like that!’

  ‘Why not? Uncle Adrian agrees with me. We can’t both be wrong.’

  ‘Diana! I wish you wouldn’t discuss me with Adrian.’

  ‘Oh, gosh, they’re not our kind of people, are they? Apart from anything else. After all, you’re getting a bit old to act like this….’

  ‘Old!’ Madeline was speechless. Diana was always so unfailingly disparaging about her age. She sighed heavily. It was obvious that Diana intended to play the ostrich and hope that if she did not look, the unpalatable things might resolve themselves in a way to suit her. It made Madeline wonder whether she was being the unreasonable one. There was so much to be said, and if Nick’s life was virtually an open book, hers certainly was not!

  * * *

  Nicholas fastened his safety belt. They were coming in to land at London Airport. In a little while he would see Madeline again. He felt his pulses race at the thought of meeting her. It had been a long ten days and he had been impatient to get back to England after the first twenty-four hours. His mother, who was flying over the following Wednesday, had tried to persuade him to wait until then and keep her company, but he had made an excuse about business in England and refused her invitation. He had known she had felt hurt, but he was loath to tell her his real reasons for wanting to be back in case everything did not turn out as he hoped.

  His mother had been urging him to get married again for years now, but she had in mind Sophia Ridolfi, the daughter of a distant cousin of his father’s and an heiress into the bargain. Sophia was twenty-eight, small and delicately proportioned with a pale, interesting face. She doted on Maria and he was not being conceited when he reflected that Sophia would be only too eager to marry him. She had made it painfully obvious from the moment she was old enough to think about marriage. She had not cared that he had merely made use of her on occasions as his partner for certain business functions where a female companion of good background was essential, and she had always turned a blind eye to his indiscretions in other directions.

  Nicholas realized now, that for the first time, he could not even tolerate the thought of marrying Sophia, or for that matter any other woman but Madeline. He had not really wanted to get married at all until now although he had often thought that another, younger woman would provide a companion and confidante for Maria. But Madeline’s innocence and beguiling manner had completely enslaved him and in a way no woman had ever done. His marriage to Joanna had been an empty thing at best, arranged by their parents to satisfy the conventions. When she died he felt regret, but no more, as though at the passing of a friend. They had conformed to the expected pattern of matrimony and nothing more. Until now, Nicholas realized, he had never met a woman who he felt he wanted to protect, rather than take advantage of.

  And yet, even so, he was unsure of his own attraction alone. Madeline was by no means a wealthy woman and the fact that he was virtually a millionaire must mean something to her. In what did his appeal lie; his money, or himself?

  He stared moodily through the window of the aircraft, his sense of pleasure evaporating. Money was the very devil! He wondered if its advantages were greater than its disadvantages and then inwardly chided himself. Such thoughts were ludicrous. Of course the advantages were greater. He was thoroughly interested in the Corporation and without money there would be no Corporation. After all, his father had married his mother when she was only the penniless daughter of an Italian fisherman. He had not lost anything because of that. His mother had always been a wonderful wife to his father and when his father died she had been desolate. They had been so much in love and money had never entered into it.

  The Boeing was coming in to land and seconds later they touched down. After running the length of the runway they taxied to a halt in the unloading bay. As Nicholas gathered together his belongings preparatory to disembarking he pondered about Madeline’s first husband, wondering what he had been like. The thought had crossed his mind that there might never have been a ‘Mr. Scott’. Used as he was to the wiles of women he wondered why her husband had died so young. Nine years ago, Madeline had only been twenty-four and even supposing her husband had been ten years older that would still only take him to the prime of his life. It was a thought worth considering.

  He unfastened his safety belt and rose as the plane halted. He pulled on the fur-lined trench coat over his dark suit and walked to the rear of the plane with the other passengers. It had been freezing when he left Rome and he found the temperature several degrees lower in London when he stepped from the aircraft into the cold evening air.

  The airport was a mass of lights in the swiftly falling gloom and he walked quickly towards the reception hall. He was well known at the airport and it only took a short while to clear his luggage which was being sent straight to the hotel in Otterbury. He carried only his briefcase with him.

  The lounge was crowded and he wondered where he would find Madeline. There was no sign of her and it was already ten minutes to eight.

  Frowning, he flicked his lighter to the end of his cigarette and hunching his shoulders he walked through to the bar. Pushing his way through the mob, he ordered a bourbon on the rocks and after fortifying himself with that he emerged from the bar again and wandered across the wide hallway, feeling strung up and intense. A feeling of anti-climax was taking hold of him.

  Suddenly he heard a scurry of footsteps behind him and he swung round to find Madeline just about to catch his arm.

  ‘Oh, Nick!’ she exclaimed breathlessly, ‘I was so afraid I would miss you. The bus got stuck in a traffic jam and consequently we only crawled along. I’m awfully sorry.’

  She looked up at him apologetically, her expression one of relief and warmth at his presence and Nicholas felt his emotions stirring urgently.

  ‘Why didn’t you take a taxi?’ he asked, forcing his voice to remain cool.

  ‘I never thought of it,’ she exclaimed frankly. ‘Besides, a taxi would have been stuck, just the same as we were …’ Her voice trailed away. This was not how she had expected their reunion would be.

  She
sighed, and wished they could start all over again. She ought to have caught an earlier train, of course, but Diana had started an argument just as she was leaving and consequently she was late and missed the early train. But how could she explain that to Nicholas now when he looked as black as a thundercloud? He would think she was just making excuses.

  ‘Well, let’s take one right now,’ suggested Nicholas at last, his voice still aloof and arrogant.

  Madeline nodded, and turned to precede him from the building. Nicholas thought how lovely she was looking in her winter coat of dark green tweed with an edging of beaver lamb at the collar, cuffs, and hemline.

  Most of the passengers from the earlier flights had departed now and they got a taxi quite easily. Nicholas gave the driver the address of a club in St. James’s Street and then climbed in the back beside Madeline.

  ‘We’ll have dinner at my club, I think,’ he remarked, as they moved away.

  ‘Your club! I didn’t realize you knew London so well. Or that London knew you for that matter.’ She drew off her gloves nervously.

  Nicholas shrugged. ‘There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,’ he replied enigmatically.

  Madeline digested this, and looked out of the cab window. She could not understand him in this mood. Had something happened to change things so drastically? She looked down at her fingers, studying the ring that sparkled so beautifully in its antique setting. She tried to think of something to say, anything to break this barrier he was raising between them for some reason. Nicholas sat in his corner, staring grimly out at the passing traffic, his lean fingers gripping the briefcase. She tried not to look at him, but it was difficult when she so wanted to just sit and stare at him, taking in every detail of his face.

  Suddenly he turned and looked fully at her, the blue eyes narrowed. He saw the thick, silky hair swinging against her creamy cheeks, its brightness accentuated by the darkness of the loose coat. Her tawny eyes reflected the bewilderment she was feeling, but at his glance her lashes swept down, veiling her confusion.

  ‘Madeline!’ he muttered softly, and, unable to resist, he pulled her to him, gently at first and then more roughly as his mouth found the sweetness of her mouth, parting her lips, possessing her.

  She struggled free of him at last, her cheeks flushed, her mouth bare of lipstick, her hair in disordered confusion about her vivid face.

  ‘No!’ she breathed, shakily, ‘no!’

  Nicholas ran an unsteady hand over his hair. It was just as he remembered, only more so. She was everything he had ever imagined a woman being and he couldn’t control his feelings as he used to be able to do.

  ‘No what?’ he asked, a little thickly.

  Madeline pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. ‘Nick, what’s wrong? Why have you changed?’

  ‘Nothing’s changed, honey. I guess I’ve been away too long.’

  Madeline looked at him. ‘That’s not all, though, is it? I may not have known you long in terms of days, but I certainly know you better than that, I think.’

  Nicholas shrugged and lay back in his seat. ‘I guess we’ve been rushing things too much….’

  Madeline put a hand to her throat. ‘Is that what you really think?’ She bent her head, feeling suddenly desolate. ‘Would you rather I went home—?’

  Nicholas groaned and threw his briefcase on the floor of the cab and pulled her back into his arms.

  ‘Oh, God, Madeline, why am I tormenting myself and you? You know I’m crazy about you…I want you, you know I do…’

  She felt his mouth against the side of her neck, his lips warm and compelling, and she whispered: ‘Don’t tease me, please, Nick. If you want to end it, say so.’

  ‘Tease you?’ he murmured feverishly. ‘Don’t be foolish, honey. I love you, I need you, I want to marry you.’

  His mouth sought hers, hard and passionate at first, softening into tenderness. Madeline felt as though she never wanted to be roused from this embrace. This was where she belonged. The spark that had been there right from their first meeting had ignited into a flame which only complete surrender to each other could assuage.

  ‘You know so little about me,’ she whispered, as his mouth moved to her cheek.

  ‘Just say whether you love me,’ he muttered, forcing her head back, his fingers encircling her throat.

  ‘Of course I do,’ she breathed, ‘I think I did, right from the start. But there’s something you’ve got to know, about Joe and Diana.’

  Nicholas frowned and looked seriously into her face.

  ‘What must I be told? That there was no such person as Joe?’

  Madeline’s eyes widened. ‘Why do you say that? Don’t you care if that’s true?’

  ‘Not particularly,’ he muttered huskily.

  ‘Well…there was a person called Joe and he was my husband. He was a very kind person.’

  ‘Kind?’ Nicholas released her as they neared the centre of the city. ‘That’s a strange word to use to describe one’s husband.’

  ‘I know. But then ours was a strange relationship.’

  Nicholas frowned. ‘In what way? You had Diana.’

  Madeline flushed. ‘I know. Darling, I can’t tell you in a taxi. Besides, we’re nearly to St. James’s Street.’

  ‘Okay. Then you can tell me over dinner.’ He smiled gently. ‘God, have I missed you, honey!’

  ‘I thought from your expression when I arrived that you wished you had never set eyes on me,’ murmured Madeline, combing her hair into some semblance of order before alighting from the cab.

  Nicholas sighed. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I guess I just objected to being so completely enslaved by one woman. It’s a new sensation for me.’

  Madeline looked at him. ‘Do you really mind?’

  Nicholas gave her an amused look. ‘Honey, you’re crazy! After all I’ve just said!’

  ‘And it wasn’t just said in the heat of the moment?’ she asked, hardly daring to breathe.

  Nicholas shook her head. ‘No, not at all. I meant every word. I shan’t let you get away, you know.’ His voice was serious now, with an undercurrent of possessiveness that left her weak.

  Madeline put her hand into his as she stepped out of the taxi and murmured: ‘I don’t want to get away,’ in a husky voice.

  Nicholas’s club was an imposing place, quiet with the smooth efficiency of perfect service. He was greeted warmly and they were conducted to his table in the restaurant As it was quite late Nicholas had waived the usual pre-dinner drinks and he ordered the meal immediately.

  While they ate, Nicholas watched the play of emotions on Madeline’s face. Something was troubling her and he wanted to tell her that whatever she had to tell him would make no difference to his feelings for her.

  At last, he said: ‘Come on, honey. Stop bottling it up. I want to hear about your marriage.’

  The room was not full and they could talk in private without any fear of being overheard. The rest of the diners were mainly business men, engrossed in their own conversations, and those who were alone all had newspapers propped on the table in front of them.

  ‘Well,’ she began awkwardly, ‘my parents were killed during the war and I was brought up by my grandmother. She was very good to me, but she was very strict I had to be home every evening by nine-thirty and she always wanted to know where I was going and with whom.’ She sighed and bent her head. ‘I was, of course, rebellious. I began going around with a wild group of youngsters. I was at commercial college at the time. Grandmother had a house in Kensington and I used to spend every evening dancing or riding pillion on the motor-bikes owned by the boys in the gang.’ She looked up. ‘I suppose you can guess what happened.’

  Nicholas lay back in his seat. He looked assured and handsome, and Madeline’s heart turned over. What if he should hate her for what she had done?

  ‘I guess you became pregnant,’ he murmured shrewdly.

  Madeline’s face was crimson. She clenched her fists. ‘Yes, you’re right, o
f course,’ she said, in a tight voice. ‘But there was only one boy and then…well…only one time. The boy’s name was Peter. He was tall and slim and handsome and I was flattered that he should choose me out of all the other girls. I didn’t find out until later that he had had a bet with one of the other boys that…oh, do I have to go into details?’

  ‘No.’ Nicholas shook his head.

  ‘Thank you.’ Madeline gripped her knife and fork tightly, the food on her plate of no interest to her. ‘Anyway, I was frightened afterwards, but Peter just laughed and said I was a fool’

  She didn’t notice how Nicholas’s eyes had narrowed, or how angry he was looking.

  ‘He…he crashed his motorbike a week later and was killed outright. He had always scorned a crash helmet and he didn’t stand a chance. He hit a furniture wagon.’ She shivered, remembering the terror she had experienced at the time; when she had found out she was pregnant and known that she had no one to turn to.

  ‘When I found out I was going to have a baby I was desperate. I was sure if Grandmother got to know it would kill her. I went around in a daze for weeks, hardly aware of anything but the growing menace of being an unmarried mother and my child being illegitimate. Of course, I had no one to blame but myself. My greatest concern was for my grandmother The disgrace would break her heart.

  ‘Joe was a professor at the college. He taught mathematics to the accountancy students and so on. I had known him vaguely for about a year, but only in a teacher-pupil capacity. He was a nice man, and I liked him. One day, he found me in the corridor. I had fainted and he took me to his office and gave me a drink to revive me. He was so gentle and understanding that I found myself telling him what was wrong and how foolish I had been. He didn’t rant and rave at me that I was a stupid idiot. He merely dried my tears and told me not to worry. We’d work something out.

  ‘It wasn’t until later that he explained what he meant. He asked me to marry him.’ She sighed. ‘I was amazed, but he explained that his mother who had kept house for him had died recently and he was now alone. He said he needed someone to look after him and in return he would look after me. I was only seventeen and he was in his late forties at that time. I didn’t have much choice really when I thought about Grandmother, and then of course there was the baby too. By marrying Joe I would evade the disgrace, so I agreed. Oh, I know it was a cowardly thing to do. Whatever I did seemed to be wrong at that time. I had behaved utterly foolishly and I had no excuse then. I can only say now that I never did anything to hurt Joe after our marriage and I think I made him happy.’