Enemy Lover

by Pamela Kent

  Tina was unaware that her eyes were growing very thoughtful as they remained fixed on Alaine, and it was only when he smiled a little quizzically and one of his eyebrows elevated itself that she realised what she was doing. She flushed and looked away hurriedly, and then said quickly:

  You know, I’ve never asked you... Have you a practice in London ?”

  “Yes, but it’s not a fashionable practice, if that’s what you were expecting. In fact, it’s rather unfashionable, in the dock area. But I enjoy living amongst my patients, and one day I’ll retire to the country and set up a practice there, when I grow tired of my toughs.”

  “Are they so very tough?”

  “Some of them. Most of them, not a bit.”

  “You look to me as if you ought to have a consulting-room in Harley Street,” she admitted.

  He inclined his sleek dark head.

  “Thank you, Miss Andrews. But I don’t know - whether to feel flattered or otherwise.”

  “I suppose, if you had a wife...” she began, diffidently, and he

  threw back his head and laughed.

  “I was wondering when you were coming to that,” he told her. “All women have to know whether the men of their acquaintance are married or otherwise, if only, I suppose, so that they can do something about the omission if the victim hasn’t already been caught. But I’m very much afraid I’m not the marrying kind, so don’t waste any of your energies on me. Content yourself with hoping that a woman will one day soften up Angus. And now tell me what you propose to do with your life now that you’re a rich woman? You can’t go on being a schoolmistress with your * •> income.”

  “No, I suppose not,” she agreed, a little doubtfully, however. “But I like teaching—which means, of course, that I like children— and I’ve got to have something to do.”

  “You could marry,” he suggested, “since we’re on the subject of marriage. Then you could have children of your own.”

  “Yes.” But she was not prepared to discuss her own marriage aspirations with him since he had quite definitely snubbed her where his own were concerned —and apparently he hadn’t any. “But that’s something in the future, and what I have to plan for is the present. I haven’t yet asked to be released from my job at Stoke Moreton.”

  “But you will,” he predicted.

  She lifted slender shoulders.

  “Perhaps. I’d like to do something useful with my life... I was wondering whether the house in Cheviot Square might be put to some purpose that would benefit someone. Perhaps a lot of people. It's far too big to be lived in as an ordinary house, and yet it has possibilities.”

  “I’ve often thought so myself,” he admitted. “In fact, at one time I thought of trying to persuade Uncle Angus to let me have it for a nursing-home.” Her eyes brightened.

  “That’s a good idea. Or a children’s home. “There we go again!” He laughed. “You really will have to marry, you know... And fairly soon, I would say! You seem to me to have the ideal oudook for * •> marriage.”

  As she didn’t reply he leant across the table and gently patted one of her hands that was resting on the tablecloth. He spoke apologetically.

  “I’m sorry if you thought I was rude just now when I refused to discuss my own ideas on marriage. If anything, they’re the ideas of a perfectionist... an idea! I don’t think I’d like to risk it!”

  They looked at one another across the table. It was true, she thought, he had the slightly ascetic lines of an idealist in every contour of his face—and it was a good .face, a strong face. The eyes were a trifle brooding, but they would always inspire confidence.

  And she knew now why she had not hesitated to go with him, a complete stranger, that night when he arrived at the schoolhouse to take her to old Angus.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THERE was the question of Giffard’s Prior. The realisation gradually sank in that it was hers now, and Tina began to toy with the idea of returning to the north country and at least visiting it again. She supposed she had every right to stay there now, and the staff would have to be given some information about her intentions, and it would be up to them to stay on or hand in their notices as they thought fit.

  Alaine, with whom she had dinner one night only a few days after she had lunched with him, advised her to make the return journey to the north, and he also advised her strongly to stay at Giffard’s Prior. If she didn’t do so the house would be without either a master or a mistress, and old Angus had neglected it badly enough when he was alive. The fact that the various members of the staff had remained extraordinarily devoted to him, and had carried on admirably during his constant absences, was certain indication that he, at least, had been a good master to them, and he would expect Tina to carry on the tradition and be a good mistress.

  Besides, Alaine urged, she had to live somewhere, and with a house like Giffard’s Prior why even think about living somewhere else? She couldn’t deceive herself about her possessions... she was a very wealthy young woman, and the sooner she got used to the fact the better.

  Tina was inclined to look upon Dr. Giffard as a fount of wisdom—in the short time she had known him he had impressed her strongly as utterly reliable. And she was quite sure he didn’t resent her benefiting financially at the expense of himself. Also, apart from Mr. Jasper, there was no one else to advise her... And Mr. Jasper was too urbane and pompous to be easily approachable. He said, ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ whenever she voiced any doubts, and was increasingly surprised because she was so unwilling to accept the fact that she was financially secure, and had really nothing to worry about at all.

  Indeed, she was very, very fortunate.

  Dr. Giffard, on the other hand, could understand the reason why she could not work herself up into a state of excitement over her new possessions... although it wasn’t because she wasn’t secretly thrilled and amazed whenever she allowed herself to dwell on them. And Dr. Giffard’s advice never varied.

  “Have a good time... I don’t suppose you’ve ever really known what it is to have a good time,” he said, for she had confided to him that she had been an orphan since her very earliest years, and the grim old aunt who had brought her up was not the kind to approve of young people enjoying life very much. On the contrary, life had to be looked upon as a very demanding and serious business indeed, and the frivolous pursuit of pleasure was violently frowned upon in her house.

  Hence the reason why Tina’s jewel-blue eyes had a shadowed look in them sometimes that disagreed with the delicate, flowerlike youthfulness of her general appearance.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever known what it is to have fun,” Alaine remarked, somewhat abruptly, on the second occasion when they dined together. “Old Angus probably realised that, and it struck him that here was a splendid opportunity to put right something that he regarded as an omission. A young girl living the lonely life that you were living, bothering to look after him when he was ill... How infinitely more worthy you were to inherit what he had to leave than anyone else he knew! So, although he couldn’t have been feeling too good at the time, he got in touch with his lawyers and had a fresh will drawn up. He left you everything, and he wanted you to enjoy it.”

  Tina was watching him with wide open, interested eyes.

  “And you think he meant me to live at Giffard’s Prior, and to give up teaching and that sort of thing?”

  “Of course.”

  “I remember he said I was too young to be responsible for young children, who needed lots of discipline. He recommended hearty spankings, which of course I disagree with. There were occasions when I read to him out of the newspapers that he said I was too solemn. Do I look solemn?” An expression that was vaguely anxious flitted across her face.

  Dr. Giffard reassured her on this point, but he added that in another twenty years—if she had gone on teaching in her remote schoolhouse, with nothing but a few books and a wireless set for company in the long, lonely evenings, and apparently hardly any-

 
thing in the nature of adult companionship—she would almost certainly have worn an extremely, solemn expression.

  “So look upon old Angus as someone who came along at precisely the right moment to prevent that happening, and show some appreciation of your good fortune by really being young. Buy more clothes, all the things you’ve always wanted and never thought you’d have, a car—”

  “I couldn’t drive a car.”

  “No, but you could learn. In the meantime you could have someone to drive you.”

  “A chauffeur?”

  “Why not? You’ve got to get about, and it’s inconvenient to depend upon taxis and trains. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t return to Giffard’s Prior in your own car, or at least have one delivered to you once you’ve returned there. If you like, I’ll take you round the showrooms myself. In fact, I think I know of a man who could provide you with what you want without any unnecessary delays.”

  “Could you ?”

  She was suddenly excited by the thought of possessing a car of her own—even more excited than she had been by the opportunity to buy new clothes. She admitted that she had often longed to possess a little car at isolated Stoke Moreton, where dependence on a bus was often most inconvenient.

  “Well, drive up to your schoolhouse in something new and shining, and give your old pupils a treat,” Alaine recommended. “What about tomorrow morning? I think I can manage an hour before lunch— perhaps a couple of hours. I’ll pick you up at your hotel.”

  So, the following morning, they drove up to a very imposing and well patronised car showroom in Dr. Giffard’s car, and he introduced her to the man he trusted to find her just what she was looking for. Tina was a little alarmed when he left her to make her decision without his assistance, but she realised that being a doctor he was pressed for time, and the young man he had handed her over to seemed extraordinarily helpful. He thought he knew exactly what she wanted, and produced it, as it were, out of a hat.

  A sleek grey Bentley, not in the least ostentatious, but enough to make anyone’s eyes pop who knew anything at all about this make of car. And anyone who had known Tina Andrews a month or so before, and was suddenly given to understand that she was the owner of it, would almost certainly have his eyes start right out of

  his (or her) head when the information was passed on.

  Tina herself felt a hysterical desire to laugh when she remembered little Johnny Gains, and wondered how he would react if she drove up to his cottage in her brand new possession and asked him whether he would like her to take him for a drive on the moor. Johnny’s mouth would almost certainly drop wide open, allowing her to see his broken front teeth, and his eyes would grow as round as marbles.

  “Your car? ” he would gasp. “But you can’t possibly own a car like that! You’re the teacher!”

  And his mother would look suddenly faintly alarmed, realise all at once that Miss Andrews was no longer the Miss Andrews with whom she had once been quite familiar, and she would probably pull Johnny inside the cottage and tell him not to be rude to the lady.

  But the thought of taking Johnny—as well as a few of the other children—for trips into Murchester, the nearest town to Stoke Moreton, and buying them sweets and anything else they fancied in her own car was the thought that suddenly decided her to buy the car. Not to hesitate any longer.

  She pulled out her cheque-book shyly, and then felt slightly faint when she had written the cheque. Would Mr. Jasper, and her bank manager, have a joint fit? She was so alarmed about this later on that she telephoned her solicitor and told him what she had done, and was immensely relieved when he laughed and said genially: “Having a real spending spree, are you? Well, go ahead and enjoy yourself! The estate will stand the strain!”

  Having acquired the car she had to have someone to drive it. Even if she started taking lessons in driving straight away she couldn’t possibly take over the controls of the Bentley until she was reasonably proficient, and she wanted to leave for Stoke Moreton in a few days’ time.

  The young man who had sold her the car gave her the name of an agency where she could almost certainly obtain a competent chauffeur with little or no difficulty—especially if she mentioned the name of the showrooms where she had just obtained the car. And she set off immediately after lunch to be interviewed by another plausible young man in an office crowded with temporarily disengaged domestic staff.

  She had hardly entered the room where the applicants were being dealt with when she recognised the tall, distinguished figure of Sir Angus Giffard, the new baronet and her declared enemy, leaning up against a counter and chatting carelessly with a beautifully, dressed young woman with hair that was several shades darker and richer than Tina’s and a pair of widely spaced, brilliant grey eyes.

  Tina had never seen any member of her own sex quite as elegant as was this young woman, and certainly no one who was quite as assured. She and Sir Angus were discussing a party they had apparently both been to the night before, and their clear laughter rang out a trifle hollowly and mockingly in the taut atmosphere of the agency.

  Almost certainly they knew that they were being watched. .. with envy by the women (especially the younger women present) and with half-grudging admiration by the men. Sir Angus was so impeccably dressed, so much the man-about-town with a sufficiently large bank-roll, and his companion’s beauty must have been a source of bitter envy to the women, while the men naturally fell for it.

  “What I’d, give to have a mink like that!” someone whispered rather throatily as Tina moved forward into the centre of the room, and it was then that Angus turned and saw her.

  He betrayed no surprise. He straightened up, that was all, and his blue eyes—she had come to the decision that they were a strange navy blue in a poor light—raked her from head to foot.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Andrews,” he said. He introduced his companion. “Kathryn, this is Miss Clementina Andrews, whom my late uncle thought so highly of that he left her everything he possessed! Except his title, of course, which unfortunately came my way ... It would have suited Alaine much better! Miss Andrews, this is Miss Kathryn Gaylord.”

  “How do you do,” said Miss Gaylord, staring hard but not even offering her hand.

  “She does very well indeed,” Angus spoke for her. “And she’s obviously here to pick up some staff. What are you looking for, Miss Andrews?” he enquired insolently. “A personal maid?” with his eyes on the chic little suit beneath her beautifully tailored coat.

  She answered mechanically, realising that she was very much at a disadvantage.

  “I’ve just bought a car, and I’m looking for someone to drive it.”

  “Someone to drive it?” Angus’s eyes positively danced as they met those of the lovely Kathryn. “She’s just bought a car, and she wants a chauffeur. A chauffeur!”

  “How extraordinary,” Miss Gaylord murmured drawlingly, and then she tittered slightly. “It really is extraordinary, isn’t it?”

  “Completely and fantastically extraordinary,” Sir Angus agreed, and took her by the arm in a familiar manner. “Run away, darling, and leave me to deal with this. I’ll see you tonight about eight-thirty, and whatever you do don’t keep me waiting!”

  Then he turned back to Tina.

  “I think this calls for a nice cosy cup of tea somewhere,” he told her. “What about the Ritz? Or no, a tea-shop ... There’s one round the corner. All right?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN IT was a very exclusive tea-shop, and it wasn't exactly round the corner. They took a taxi to it, and by the time she was seated behind a teapot pouring out tea for the man she had come to look upon as her declared enemy, Tina was beginning to wonder why she had been so easily persuaded. Perhaps it wasn’t so much that she had been persuaded, but that a stronger will than hers had more or less forced her to do his bidding.

  But why he wanted to have tea with her she couldn’t think. Why he had deserted the golden beauty who had been with him at the agency in order to drag her, Tin
a, away to a tea-shop—a place a lot of men feel ill at ease in—was beyond her until, having consumed one cup of tea and polished off a couple of fairy cakes, he removed the scales from her eyes and filled her with astonishment.

  “You want a chauffeur,” he said, “I’m looking for a job ... I’ll be your chauffeur! ”

  “What!” she exclaimed.

  “I’ve just said that I’ll be your chauffeur.” He took a slim gold cigarette case from his pocket and offered it to her. “No? You don’t smoke! That’s unusual...

  Probably one of the reasons why Uncle Angus took such a fancy to you. He loathed and abominated any woman who smoked, drank, or painted her toenails. I’ll admit I don’t much care for the painted toenails myself... But you can’t expect a girl to be an entire prude. Now, what sort of a car have you bought?”

  “A Bentley,” she returned, rather faintly. “But you can’t expect me to believe that you—need a job.”

  “I’d prefer half a dozen directorships, of course,” he agreed, “but everyone doesn’t have the luck. I’m not precisely down to the bread-line, but I do have expensive tastes...” The aroma of his choicely blended cigarette convinced her of that. “There is, also, another reason why I should like someone to employ me for a while, at least. The young woman I introduced you to just now— that gorgeous creature, Kathryn! —plans to marry me one day (or I plan to marry her!); but her father won’t hear of it unless can prove to him that I’m not unemployable. He’s one of the nouveau riche... A supermarket Baron inclined to look down on a ne’er-do-well like myself. Titles simply don’t attract him... At least, that’s what he pretends.”

  “But you’re not poor. Mr. Jasper assured me that you’re not poor... ”