Roberta Leigh - In Name Only

by Roberta Leigh

  With a sigh he walked slowly through the hall and let himself out into the street.

  By the terms of Angus Hamilton's will, Jane and Nicholas were joint benefactors for the one year their marriage had been stipulated to last. It was an unusual situation and one which, Jane knew, had surprised the lawyer, but she herself regarded it as a sign of Sir Angus's faith in her integrity. Yet she had no intention of utilising the money available to her, a fact which even in the short time since her marriage had caused her considerable financial embarrassment, for she had spent all her savings on her trousseau - what irony to have a trousseau for a make-believe marriage - and now found herself with so little personal money that she wondered how Nicholas would react if he learned she was considering taking a part-time job.

  The problem was solved in an unexpected manner, for one evening before dinner Nicholas came into the drawing-room to speak to her. On the infrequent occasions when he dined at home he remained in the library until the meal was served, in this way ensuring he did not have to make conversation with her for longer than necessary, and she could not hide her surprise at having him deliberately come to talk to her. But the reason became evident the moment he spoke.

  "We'll have to give a dinner party - a large one, I'm afraid. It'll look rather odd if I don't introduce you properly into society."

  "I thought that sort of idea went out with the Ark," she said drily.

  "Some of our company directors are still pretty archaic," he replied equally drily. "Anyway, it has to be done."

  "Wouldn't it be less embarrassing if we didn't?" she said quickly. "After all, introducing me when I'll only be your wife for a year seems a waste of time."

  "We agreed to keep up appearances," he said, and looked appraisingly round the drawing-room. "We can use this as the reception area and put up a marquee in the garden as a ballroom."

  "But that will be frightfully expensive!"

  "A couple of thousand pounds." He looked at her quizzically. "I can afford it, Jane, as you very well know."

  She flushed. "It isn't a question of whether one can afford it or not. It just seems a lot of money to spend for one evening."

  He did not answer and she was aware that his quizzical look had given way to one of critical regard. "You'd better buy yourself some more clothes. I've been meaning to tell you about it since we got back to London."

  "I don't need any more clothes, thank you."

  "I'm playing my part in this charade and I'd like you to play yours."

  "What have clothes got to do with it?" Jane felt her temper rise. "Anyway, I think my clothes are quite suitable."

  "They're not the kind anyone would expect my wife to wear."

  She smoothed down the soft wool of her skirt. "What's wrong with this dress ? "

  "Nothing. It's very pretty. It just so happens that today my secretary was wearing one exactly like it!"

  "That just shows we bought it at the same store."

  "As my wife you shouldn't be wearing dresses my secretary can go out and buy."

  "What a snob you are! Millions of people buy clothes off-the-peg these days - even the Royal Family!"

  "There's no reason why you shouldn't either. But for certain occasions I'd like you to wear something exclusive. As a matter of fact, the editor of one of our glossies sent in a memo today asking if he could do a photographic interview on you."

  "Wearing the little house dress I bought at Balenciaga, no doubt?"

  He ignored the sarcasm. "Even in a democracy there are those who have and those who have more."

  "And I'm one of the 'have mores', I suppose?"

  "For a year," he conceded, and walked to the door.

  "Nicholas," she called, and had the satisfaction of seeing him stop in surprise. "You haven't told me about the party. When is it to be, how many people are we having, and where would you like me to get my dress?"

  "The party's been arranged for two weeks' time, there will be seven hundred and fifty people and you can buy your dress at any couture house you want. I'll go over the guest list with you nearer the day. There are a few people I'd like you to be especially nice to."

  A question trembled on Jane's lips and she tried not to ask it, but it would not be denied. "What about Carole? Is she coming too?"

  "Of course."

  "Why 'of course'?" Jane said crossly. "Don't you think it's rather ridiculous to have a party to introduce your wife to London society and ask your girl-friend along at the same time? After all, if you're so careful not to have anyone gossip about us___"

  "Apart from being the woman I love, Carole also happens to belong to the same circle as my other friends. No one will think it strange if she's here."

  "‘I’ll think it strange. The last time she came to dinner here she went out of her way to ignore me."

  "You don't expect her to fall all over you, do you?"

  "No," Jane admitted, "I don't. But I don't expect her to come here either. I'm your wife for a year, Nicholas, whether you like it or not, and as long as I'm in this house I don't want Carole here. If she comes to the party, then she'll have to be the hostess." Jane turned her back on him, but her whole spine tingled and the temper that had made her speak the way she had began to ebb, leaving her regretting the outburst.

  "Very well," Nicholas said behind her. "Unfortunately I'll have to agree with you on this point. But don't make any more stipulations. Anxious though I am to avoid unpleasant publicity, there's a limit to how far I'll let you go." She heard the door-handle turn and then his voice came again. "I won't be in to dinner after all. I'm going out."

  The door was closed with a bang and Jane was left alone with her pyrrhic victory.

  Until the night of the party she spent every evening by herself, knowing it was Nicholas's way of showing her how much he detested her.

  At first she had not wanted to buy a special dress for the party, but thinking about it more coolly she chided herself for not playing him at his own game, or at least not giving Sir Angus's ambition a chance of working. If she had any hope whatsoever of taking Nicholas's attention away from Carole, then it was only by appealing to him as a man; she had already tasted the bitterness of just trying to appeal to him intellectually. But even so she decided against going to one of the leading couturiers and instead found the dress she wanted in a small but elegant boutique in Kensington.

  Wearing it for the first time on the night of the party she was delighted with the choice she had made and wondered whether Nicholas would make any comment, for the style was more sophisticated than one she would normally have chosen. White chiffon was cunningly draped to cover her arms yet leave her shoulders completely bare, and though the skirt fell in loose folds to the ground, it clung to every curve of her body as she moved. She had even experimented with wearing her hair in a different style, but having spent such a long time growing it, she was reluctant to have it cut and had twisted it into a large double coil at the nape of her neck.

  She was standing looking at herself in the mirror when there was a knock at the door and one of the maids came in to tell her Nicholas wanted to see her in the library.

  Steeling herself for what would be their first meeting since the stormy row they had had when they had first discussed the party, Jane entered the library, unable to stop the longing which engulfed her when Nicholas - dark and aloof in a dinner jacket - rose from an armchair.

  "I've got something for you," he said, and without looking at her, moved over to his desk and took out a large leather case from the centre drawer. "Here - open it."

  Guessing it held some jewellery and wondering what he would say if she told him she did not want to wear it, Jane reluctantly lifted the lid. A gasp of astonishment escaped her lips, for though she had expected something expensive and beautiful she had not anticipated anything as exquisite as the diamond and emerald suite, glittering on its black velvet bed.

  "How fabulous!" she-whispered, and tentatively touched the bracelet and earrings, her fingers coming to
rest finally on the necklace. "I've never seen anything like it before."

  "It hasn't been worn for years. The last person to do so was my mother." He leaned forward and lifted up the bracelet and earrings. "Put them on."

  "I couldn't. I'd be scared to wear anything so valuable."

  "Don't be ridiculous. The Hamilton emeralds are world-famous, and as my bride," he stressed the word sarcastically, "as my bride, you will be expected to wear them."

  Unable to tolerate any further jibes, she slipped the bracelet over her hand and clipped on the earrings, glad her ears were pierced as she felt the weight and swing of the stones.

  "Put on the necklace as well," he commanded.

  "Won't it look too much?"

  "Not for this occasion. After all it's your big evening -not your funeral." He spoke with expression and she was left in no doubt how much he would have preferred it to have been the latter occasion.

  With shaking fingers she put the necklace round her throat, shivering slightly as the cold platinum touched her skin. Then she turned and faced him, unaware of the picture she made in the dark panelled room. The diamonds sparkled like a trapped rainbow, giving her a regal and virginal grace Nicholas had never seen before, and he felt a curious stirring of his pulse. Unaccountably the words of a Keats poem flashed through his mind:

  … Porphyro grew faint; She knelt, so pure a thing, So free from mortal taint.

  He shook himself mentally, like a man coming out of a dream. "So free from mortal taint". What a joke that was! And the joke was on him.

  Angrily he swung round to the door, his tone bitter as he spoke: "I think I can hear some of our guests arriving. We'd better go and receive them."

  He stood to one side to let her pass and she walked ahead of him, trembling so much that she feared she might stumble. As if sensing her trepidation, Nicholas offered her his arm and, though she knew it was a reluctant gesture, she flashed him a nervous smile as she took it.

  As one group of people arrived after the other, Jane lost all count of numbers, though she was conscious of meeting most of the directors of the company whom she had only . known by sight when she had worked for Sir Angus.

  It was not until the buffet supper was over and the dancing was in full swing that Nicholas led her to a corner of the room and introduced her to his only remaining aunt.

  "She can be a bit difficult," he warned Jane as he propelled her across the floor, his hand pressed under her elbow in a seemingly affectionate gesture. "But she's a great character and - and I'm very fond of her."

  "By which you mean we're to act the loving couple even more than we usually do," she whispered back.

  It was too late for him to reply, for Jane already found herself staring at a woman whose appearance gave no indication of meriting Nicholas's description. Snow-white hair was piled high on an aristocratic head and proud dark eyes were the most notable feature in a lined but beautifully made-up face. Although sitting on a chair she gave an indication of height and her angular body was covered in black velvet that made no concession to fashion. Not that much of the velvet was seen, since it seemed to Jane as though the entire bodice were covered by the most brilliant array of diamonds she had ever seen.

  "Aunt Agatha, I'd like you to meet Jane," Nicholas said.

  "And about time too." A claw-like hand laden with rings came out to grip Jane's. "It was naughty of you not to invite me to your wedding."

  "It was very sudden," Jane stammered, "and not -"

  "It's my fault," Nicholas interrupted. "I wanted to keep the wedding as quiet as possible and with you on the scene that would have been impossible!"

  The old lady gave a snort of laughter. "If by that you mean I'm eccentric in my manner of dressing, then all I can say is that old age entitles me to some pleasures!" She looked at Jane and patted the seat beside her. "Come and talk to me, child. You go off, Nicholas, and talk to your guests."

  Nicholas hesitated and Jane sensed he was anxious at having to leave her with this obviously forthright woman.

  "Do as your aunt says, darling," she said mischievously.

  With a shrug he walked away and the moment he had done so the woman peered into Jane's face. "Did Angus ever speak of me?"

  "Yes. He once told me he was sorry he didn't see you more often."

  "He'd have been even more sorry if he had I As children he always called me 'Awful Aggy'. But that was because I never agreed with any of his madcap ideas. What do you think of his last idea ? "

  "Which one?" Jane asked puzzled.

  "Getting Nicholas to marry you." Jane was too astonished to reply, and the woman chuckled. "Thought I didn't know about it, eh? Good heavens, child, you don't think Angus made his will without telling me what he was doing? Anyway, part of it was my idea."

  Jane was still too stunned to comment. If this determined woman, obviously shrewd and worldly-wise, had approved of Sir Angus's plan then she must surely believe there was a chance-of it working. "Do you really think I stand a chance of getting Nicholas away from Carole?" she asked finally.

  "I'm not a betting woman, but I'd say the odds are fifty-fifty. One thing I'd certainly do is -" Aunt Agatha stopped speaking and, turning round, Jane saw that Nicholas was back again, this time accompanied by John Masters. Having always assumed him to be a particular friend of Carole's she was surprised he had been invited to the party.

  "How clever of you to invite John," Aunt Agatha said, answering Jane's draughts without realising it. "You're my favourite painter. I bought three pictures from your last exhibition, even though your prices are outrageous."

  John Masters grinned and kissed the old lady's hand in an unexpectedly gallant gesture. "And how is the most beautiful lady in London?"

  Aunt Agatha gave another snort. "The second most beautiful. Jane takes first place now." Dark eyes gleamed at her nephew. "You've chosen well, my boy. She's as charming as she's beautiful. You must get Mr. Masters to paint her portrait." - "There's plenty of time for that."

  "Not too much time," his aunt retorted. "We need an heir, you know, and Jane won't want herself painted while she's plump and pregnant!"

  There was a startled silence and Jane turned scarlet. Surely the woman did not believe their marriage was a real one? She was aware of Nicholas's hands clenched at his sides and saw that he was as embarrassed as she.

  Only John Masters appeared to be unaffected and he bridged the awkward silence with a laugh. "Spare the blushes of the newlyweds, Mrs. Carew. After all, it's only the twentieth century!" He turned to Nicholas: "As a matter of fact you'd be doing me a favour if you would let me paint Jane's portrait. Not as a commission," he added hastily, "but I fancy doing the dark-haired lady of the sonnets for my next show."

  "An excellent idea," Aunt Agatha said before her nephew could reply. "Once you've done it Nicholas is bound to want it."

  Knowing himself beaten, Nicholas murmured his agreement and for the first time since their marriage Jane was amused by the situation. "I'm glad the whole thing's settled," she said to Nicholas in a tone she had not used to him since his father's death. "I was beginning to feel like one of Henry VII’s unwanted wives!"

  A gleam sparked in Nicholas's eyes. "And like Henry it'll give me great pleasure to have you hung!"

  Reluctantly awarding Nicholas the first round, Jane concentrated her smile on Aunt Agatha. "Now we've met I hope you'll come to London more frequently?"

  "Nothing would please me more."

  Only when the party was over and the last guest had gone did Nicholas comment on his aunt's obvious approval of Jane. "You made a great hit with her. She doesn't normally take to people so quickly."

  "I can understand that. I imagine she makes high demands on them."

  "But she gives a great deal in return," he answered. "You might not think so now, but she's extremely kind and sentimental."

  "I can well believe that," Jane said, remembering Aunt Agatha's knowledge of the will.

  By this time they had reached the library
. The curtains had been drawn, shutting out the garden and the huge marquee which stood deserted and ready for its dismantling the following day. Now the whole house was quiet, the air still scented with dying flowers and the heavy aroma of Havana cigars. She stood in the centre of the room and fumbled with her necklace, the safety chain making it difficult for her to undo it.

  "You'd better help me," she said to Nicholas. "I'll never get it off alone."

  She lowered her head and he put his hands beneath the heavy coil of hair at the nape of her neck. As his fingers touched the velvety softness of her skin his pulse beat faster and annoyance made him more clumsy so that it took him twice as long to undo the clasp, but at last he managed it and he moved away abruptly, the necklace shimmering in his hand.

  Aware that he had not been unmoved by her proximity, Jane tried to hide the elation it gave her and keeping her eyes downcast, she took off the earrings and bracelet and placed them on the desk. "Thank you for letting me wear them."

  "They're yours to wear whenever you wish."

  "I doubt if an occasion like this will arise again." She went swiftly to the door. "It was a beautiful party, Nicholas. Thank you very much."

  "It was a pleasure," he replied formally, and turned away.

  The door closed behind her, but her fragrance lingered in the room, reminding him of the friendship that had once been theirs. If circumstances had been different - if he had not met Carole - he might easily have grown to love Jane. More than once he had come near to it and if she had given him stronger encouragement…. Annoyed with himself, he shook his head. What was the matter with him? Jane was nothing in his life other than a stumbling block to his future happiness. He loved Carole. Carole. A vision of her face, mocking and provocative, appeared in his mind's eye and quickly he shovelled the jewellery back into its case, locked it in the safe and went to his room.