The Devil's Advocate

by Vanessa James

  'Claudia loves him.' Luisa met her eyes levelly. 'She will try and be—do—whatever Harry needs…'

  'That's not such a good thing either. No good a woman bowing and scraping to a man, trying to fit some damn stupid tailor-made image he might have. Half the time they don't know what they really want anyway. In my experience…'

  She broke off, and Luisa looked away. Julius Morrell knew what he wanted, she thought dully, unable to keep the memory at bay. She felt nervousness rise again in a tide within her, and thought Lady Warrender sensed it because she looked at her keenly.

  'Look, I might as well be frank.' Lady Warrender stood up. 'I don't give a toss about your family, one way or the other. Our family's as dull as ditchwater, and to my mind it could do with a bit of livening up. My brother Freddie's the only remotely artistic one, and when he finds out who Claudia is, he'll be in seventh heaven, silly man. But is Claudia flighty—that's what I want to know. Because I want to see Harry happy, and I don't want us all being dragged through the divorce courts three years from now.'

  'Lady Warrender, please.' Luisa stepped forward, the colour rising to her cheeks. 'Claudia and I were brought up in a family with no… no emotional security at all.' She hesitated. 'Our parents' marriage was disastrous—they… they hardly lived together, though they never actually divorced. But… don't you see?' she looked at her pleadingly. 'All that makes Claudia and me more aware of the importance of marriage, of love, of commitment to someone—not less.'

  Lady Warrender looked doubtful; her keen eyes rested on Luisa's face.

  'I can see that in you, my dear,' she said quietly. 'I don't doubt the truth of what you say as far as you're concerned. But Claudia? Well—' She stood up briskly. 'Only time will tell, I suppose. I feel better now, though, now I've met you.'

  She turned to the door, pulling on a pair of heavy sheepskin gloves. Then she paused.

  'You see, my dear,' she spoke more warmly, 'I am probably very old-fashioned. But marriage is the most important step a woman ever takes in her life. Everything, children, other people's lives, her happiness, her future husband's, depends on her making the right decision. The big question, of course, is how you judge? How do you know? Well, if I could answer that one no doubt I'd be one of those famous agony aunts in the newspapers, not a middle-aged woman just worried about her children. So—' she paused, 'I just hope Claudia knows her own mind, and won't change it later. That's really what I came to ask.'

  Luisa felt the doubts crowd into her mind, and she lowered her eyes.

  'I… I think she does,' she said softly. 'I… I could talk to her, if you think it might do any good. But I don't think I need to say… well, anything I haven't already said to her-' She broke off.

  Lady Warrender smiled. 'The "sanctity of marriage"— that's the phrase, isn't it?' She gave a laugh. 'Well, that sounds a bit pi, doesn't it? Altogether too Roman for my taste. But one knows what it means. I'm sure you know what it means.'

  It was a question, Luisa realised, and she looked at her in surprise.

  'Yes, I think I know what it means,' she said gently. 'And so does Claudia. In her heart.'

  'I hope so.' Lady Warrender opened the door. 'Have a talk to her, my dear. I'd feel a lot happier if you would.' She paused. 'You're not thinking of getting married yourself, by any chance?'

  'No, not at all. Why do you ask?'

  Lady Warrender smiled. 'Nothing, my dear. Just something in the way you spoke, that's all.' With a sudden awkward gesture she turned back and planted a rather leathery kiss on Luisa's cheek. 'Don't see me out, my dear, and thank you for your patience. Will you come and dine with us, one evening, when you're free? With Claudia, of course.'

  'I'd like that very much. Thank you.'

  'Good.' She turned. 'And now we'd better get on with arranging this wedding, hadn't we?' She gave something very like a wink. 'Lots to do and somewhat unseemly haste, eh?'

  Then, with a quick, dismissive wave, she was gone.

  Luisa watched her go from the window, a small determined figure, striding across the square and heaving herself into an old battered Daimler parked on the opposite side. She rested her forehead tiredly against the cold panes of glass. The sanctity of marriage; she wished heartily that Lady Warrender had not used that particular phrase, not just then. How stupid, she thought rebelliously, that she, who went rarely to church, was not overtly religious, should care so much about the meaning of that phrase, the long implications of those words! Yet she did, she knew she did, and always had done, ever since she was a child. In Scotland, that summer, lying in bed at night, thinking of marriage, thinking of her parents, of their ugly weak approximation to it. When she had thought of marriage, it had seemed to her so remote, so strange, almost a place; a great carved cathedral—perfect, impregnable, a private place where two people pledged something to each other, and defied time. Where each gave themselves to the other, without lies, in a state of purity. The sanctity of marriage; the sacrament of marriage…

  Quickly she turned away from the glass; now, that was not for her. She put a record on the gramophone, The Marriage of Figaro, and listened to the Countess's great aria, her lament for the infidelity of men, of her husband; to the gaiety and joyousness of Susanna's wedding march. Then she turned off the music, found the directory, picked up the telephone.

  Julius answered; she recognised his voice at once.

  'It's Luisa Valway,' she said. 'I'm calling to say that I agree to your proposal.'

  There was a silence.

  'I see,' he said finally.

  She hesitated, feeling the blood rush to her face, even though she was alone and there was no one to see her. He said nothing more; even now, she thought bitterly, even now he would not help her, even with a word.

  'When would you like me to…'

  She could think of no suitable words, and expected him to laugh, but there was only silence.

  'I think tonight, don't you?' He spoke flatly, quite casually, as if they were making a business arrangement. 'Come here. It's Myers' night off but I can give you dinner.'

  'I don't need dinner,' she said sharply, stung by his audacity, his insolence.

  'Come at eight,' he said, and rang off.

  That afternoon she walked. Miles around London, on her own, following no set direction, letting her feet lead her, letting the cold winter air numb her body and her mind. They led her eventually, as she had known they would, irresistibly, and with a will of their own, to the park near his house. She thought of going to see Luke; but knew that was not why she had gone there. Instead she sat on a seat in the park, on a low hill, where one way she could look out across the darkening skyline of London, the other across the railings and grass to his house. There were children playing; people taking their dogs for walks; she hardly saw them. At four, as it began to grow dark, she saw lights in his house, in the upstairs windows. Then, as she rose to go, his front door suddenly opened; she could see it quite clearly from where she stood. Julius was standing in the doorway, lit by the light behind him. Beside him was a woman, tall, dark, wrapped in furs. As Luisa watched, the woman turned to him and put her arms around his neck, reached her face up to be kissed. She turned away quickly, fear, anger and bitterness rising up inside her like bile. Then she went home.

  She washed, bathed, changed; but she could not make herself feel clean. She wore the black dress she had worn the previous evening; out of perversity, she knew, so that he would see she had made no special effort to appear alluring; perhaps in the half hope that it might persuade him to change his mind.

  He opened the door himself in a silent house brilliant with lights, and as he took her coat, she saw him note what she was wearing instantly.

  He looked at her, his eyes running over her tall slender body and back to her face, just as they had done that first day in his office.

  'Same costume?' He raised an eyebrow in an ironic smile.

  'Same play,' she answered sharply.

  He touched the long full aureole of
her hair lightly, so she flinched.

  'You look very beautiful.'

  'Please,' She looked at him scornfully. 'I don't need compliments. You don't need to woo me.'

  He shrugged.

  'What if I want to?'

  'Don't bother.'

  'As you wish.'

  Formally Julius led the way back into the drawing-room where she had been the previous night. It looked just as it had before; tranquil, warm, without threat. The table where the hyacinth had been now held a bowl of red roses.

  He caught her looking at them, and gave that odd twisted half smile he had, which never seemed to warm his eyes.

  'Appropriate?' he gestured in their direction.

  'I don't like hothouse flowers.'

  'No, I'd imagine you wouldn't,' he said coolly. 'Let me get you a drink.'

  He didn't bother to ask her what she would have; he took no notice of the quick denial that rose to her lips, but poured champagne into two long glasses, and then held one out to her.

  'This is ridiculous!' Luisa ignored the glass. 'You're turning this into some absurd ceremony!'

  He shrugged. 'Call it a ritual. I like ritual.' He thrust the glass into her hand. 'What did you expect me to do?' he went on, eyeing her with a cold amusement. 'Catch you by the hair as you came in, and have you on the hall carpet? Or drag you upstairs to my bedroom straight away?' He paused. 'Perhaps you'd prefer that.'

  She felt the quick colour rise instantly to her cheeks.

  'I didn't expect anything,' she said, as coldly as she could. 'And I'd prefer there to be no hypocrisy.'

  'I see.' With complete composure he sat down in the chair by the fire where he had sat the previous evening, and sipped his champagne.

  'Well,' he said slowly, 'I think we'll do it my way, if you don't mind. We'll have dinner together, in a civilised manner; we can talk about old times…' He smiled mockingly. 'That will be nice, don-'t you think, Luisa? We'll have some good wine, and the excellent food that Myers has kindly left. And then…'

  'And then you can pretend that all this is perfectly normal. I suppose?' Her eyes blazed at him. 'That it's just another routine seduction, that I came here willingly, and…'

  'You never know.' The cold grey eyes travelled languorously and insolently over her body. 'It may be willingly. These things can happen.'

  'I don't think so!'

  'Well, in the meantime, don't you think you could sit down? This is beginning to remind me of a bad play, and you look extraordinarily melodramatic standing there in that dress, clutching that glass as if you'd like to smash it in my face.' He smiled. 'You've wounded me already, twice. I'd rather you didn't do it again.'

  'Not a very deep wound, in either case!' she flashed.

  'No,' he said silkily, and his eyes met hers. She caught the implication in his instantly, and her eyes widened. Suddenly she felt terribly afraid. He must have seen her expression change, because he spoke more gently.

  'You needn't worry,' he said softly. 'I shan't hurt you. I'm not a sadist, Luisa.'

  'Julius, I…'

  'Here.' He crossed to her quickly, and took the glass from her hand. With a surprising gentleness he put his arm around her, and tilted her face up to him. He looked into her eyes, as if searching for something in them, and she knew he could feel that she was trembling uncontrollably. 'You're afraid,' he said softly, as if her reaction took him totally by surprise. 'Luisa.' He half drew her to him. 'I don't want you to-be afraid. Listen…' She wanted to resist, but something held her back. He rocked her very gently, slightly, in his arms, as if he were comforting a child. 'If it helps, I want you to know that I've taken care of everything.' He hesitated. 'The money has been repaid; I've instructed the auditors to make no mention of the… inconsistencies… in the accounts. I've told them how and why I'm dealing with the situation as I have. There'll be no further problems. Claudia must leave, of course. But beyond that, there are no… business, or legal, repercussions.'

  'Is that true?' Luisa lifted her face to him in amazement. His lips tightened.

  'In spite of what you think, I'm not a liar.'

  'But the money… I haven't given it to you yet…'

  'We can talk about that later.'

  She stepped back, disengaging herself from his arms, the implications of what he said coming to her slowly, as if her mind, her senses, were dulled by his nearness.

  'When did you do this?'-Her lips were dry, her voice little more than a whisper.

  'This morning.'

  'But then…' She stared at him in confusion. 'Why did you… why am I here?'

  He looked at her searchingly. 'Only you can answer that.'

  'But I wouldn't have come…' She broke off, and saw him tense.

  'Go on.'

  'I wouldn't have come!' She stared at him, her cheeks flushed. 'I only came because everything is changed. I found out last night. Claudia is having a baby. She's getting married. That's why I came!'

  There was a silence, then Julius shrugged, his eyes suddenly like ice again.

  'I don't much care for what altruistic reasons you came,' he said finally, carefully. 'You're here. As far as I'm concerned that's all that matters.'

  'You mean that's enough?' She stared at him in disbelief. 'You mean I can go now, without…'

  'I didn't say that.'

  'You have no hold over me now…' She cried the words without thinking, and they came out like a taunt. Instantly his mouth tightened.

  'Oh, but I do.' His voice was sarcastic. 'We had an agreement. Are you going to try and wriggle out of it? How typical of your family!'

  'I wouldn't put it like that.' She glared at him, feeling tears begin to prick behind her eyes. 'Why not be honest, Julius? This is all an attempt on your part to make this whole ugly business a bit more acceptable, isn't it? What do you expect me to do, fling myself into your arms out of gratitude?'

  'It might be interesting if you did.' He smiled insolently, and she felt anger rise up in her unchecked.

  'This is just a cheap trick on your part! A way of conning me into doing something…'

  'Possibly.' He spoke seriously.

  'I hate you, Julius!'

  'Do you, Luisa?' He looked at her coldly. 'Well, perhaps I shall be able to change your mind. Now—shall we stop this wrangling? It's very tedious. I think…' he paused, and gave her a dazzling smile, 'I think we'll go in and have some dinner, shall we?'

  Before she could protest, or push him away, he took her arm. Forcefully, so she could hardly resist, he led her out of the drawing-room, past the dining-room, to the back of the house. There, she saw to her surprise, they were obviously meant to have dinner together, in the kitchen. It was a beautiful room, with a stone-flagged floor and a tall pine dresser. A table had been laid, with blue and white plates, candles; it looked pretty, warm and inviting. There was an Aga stove and two tortoiseshell cats curled asleep in front of its warmth.

  'Now,' he said, almost forcing her into one of the chairs, 'isn't this nice? I thought we should have dinner here together, like an old married couple.'

  The obvious sarcasm in his voice cut her, and she looked away. How carefully he had worked it all out, she thought bitterly, all the best ways to protract her torture, increase her humiliation. He turned away from her to the stove, and Luisa dug the nails of her hands deep into her palms. For a moment then, back in the drawing-room, she had thought he would relent; but she had been wrong; now… She straightened her back proudly; she was damned if she was going to let him see how afraid she was again. If he wanted to play out this ridiculous charade, then she would.

  'Do you like claret?' Julius turned back to her.

  'Thank you, yes.'

  He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Carefully, quietly, he uncorked the bottle and placed it on the table. Then he poured a little more champagne, and brought her the first course, a fish mousse of some kind. He sat down opposite her, and Luisa tasted it; it was delicious.

  'Myers did this?' she said lightly. 'H
e's a very good cook.'

  'He takes care of all my domestic needs.'

  'How lucky for you!'

  He smiled. 'I do work quite hard, you know.'

  'Oh, I know.' She smiled at him. I've read accounts of some of your more famous prosecutions.'

  He let that pass, and they ate for a while in silence. Luisa had no appetite for the food, delicious though it was, but she forced herself to eat it, to drink the champagne, and doing so made her feel better. She felt her courage return.

  'So, Claudia's getting married.' He looked at her speculatively. 'She's a little young, I'd have thought.'

  'She's twenty. And very much in love.'

  'And who is she marrying? May I know?'

  'His name is Harry Warrender,' she said stiffly. 'Perhaps you might know him… or his father. He's a judge, I believe.'

  He smiled. 'Luckily I've never encountered the father. One of the grimmer members of the senior bench. I remember Harry, though. He's much younger than me, of course, but we went to the same school. With a very formidable mother, as I recall.'

  'Lady Warrender?' In spite of herself, Luisa smiled. ''I met her this morning.'

  'Did you cope? Her bark's worse than her bite, I believe.'

  'Just about.'

  He looked at her carefully. 'And your father,' he said. 'Does he know about… about the marriage and everything?'

  Luisa glanced away.

  'No,' she said softly. 'He doesn't know yet. We haven't seen him for some years. He's in Rome at the moment.'

  'Still devoting himself to the liberation of the masses through verse?' His tone was sarcastic.

  'He's still writing poetry, I believe,' she said stiffly.

  'How loyal.' He stood up and took away her plate. 'Really, Luisa, if it weren't so absurd, your devotion to the rest of your feckless family would be quite touching.'

  'I don't want to discuss my family with you.'

  Julius registered the coldness in her voice, and made no answer. Solemnly, as if it were the most normal of meals, he poured out the claret, and brought her more food.