But though it was Carole he thought of as he went to sleep, it was of Jane he dreamed. A strange sort of dream that made him wake up in a cold sweat, worried and depressed by an emotion that could not be analysed.
CHAPTER VI
Lying in bed the following morning Jane knew unexpected satisfaction at the success of the party, a success made all the more enjoyable because Carole had not been there. If only the girl were a million miles away and she could have Nicholas to herself for a little while.
She was lost in a reverie of what this might mean when the maid came in with her breakfast tray. The curtains were drawn and summer sunshine flowed into the room, lighting the dark furniture and the turkey red carpet. Not for the first time Jane wished she could redecorate the house, wondering if Nicholas would stay with her more frequently if she could furnish it in a way which would please him. But she knew she would never carry out any plans, hampered as always by a reluctance to spend money she did not regard as rightfully hers.
"Has my husband left for the office already?" she asked as the maid was about to leave the room.
"He was just on his way out as I came up."
Jane nodded and, as she sipped her tea, marvelled at the way Nicholas had taken control of the business, managing in a few short months to command the loyalty of everyone in the Company. The thought of him on his way to the office made her dissatisfied with her own lazy existence. The life of a lotus-eater was not for her, she decided, and wondered how to spend yet another long and lonely day.
As always she ended up buying books, and leafed through the latest ones on gardening in search of something of interest to her father. Shortly after her marriage her uncle in Scotland had taken ill and her parents had dosed their home and gone to look after him. Although she missed not being able to talk to them except by telephone, she was glad it at least saved her the effort of pretending to a happiness she did not feel, for it was easier to simulate contentment over the telephone than when face to face. How shocked they would be when it was time for her marriage to be annulled. She pushed the thought away and, picking up the books she had chosen, handed them to the assistant. She was waiting for them to be wrapped when she heard an exclamation behind her and turned to see John Masters.
"How marvellous to see you," he greeted her, and glanced at the books in the process of being wrapped. "I didn't know you were fond of gardening."
"I only like picking flowers," she laughed. "These books are for my father."
He fell into step beside her as she walked towards the entrance. "Do you have any more shopping to do?" he asked.
"No."
"Then how about having lunch with me?"
"That sounds lovely."
Some twenty minutes later they were seated at a table in the Caprice.
"Well?" John said. "How's our gallant Nicholas behaving ? Are things going in your favour ? "
"I won the last round against Carole."
"So that's why she wasn't at the party! I'd wondered about it." He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "You love him very much, don't you ?"
"I could never love anyone else."
Little lines appeared at the corners of his mouth. "You'd do better by marrying me."
"Is that supposed to be a joke?"
"As a matter of fact, no. I'm serious."
She stared at him aghast. "But - but you hardly know me. We haven't——-"
"I know, my dear." He gave a short laugh. "But these things happen. You go around for years never believing such a thing could occur, and then wham! You see a girl once and you fall in love - just like that."
"You could fall out of love - just like that."
"Aren't you the one who's joking now?"
"I'm sorry." Her voice was quick and low.
"Forget I said it." His voice was gruff. "We can still be friends, can't we?"
"Of course! I need your friendship more than anything."
She looked at him so intently as she spoke that to the man who came through the restaurant doors at that moment it seemed as though they were oblivious of everything and everyone around them.
A second later Jane looked up and gave a startled gasp.
"John! Nicholas has just come in with Carole!"
"Has he seen you?"
"I think so. He was looking directly at our table."
"Well, don't take any notice of them and get on with your lunch. It's not such a terrible thing these days for one's husband to be lunching with another woman!" Seeing the pinched look on her face, he stopped in compunction. "Darling, I'm sorry."
"That's all right. It isn't your fault. I'm to blame for being fool enough to think I was making any impression on him."
In an effort to distract her attention from Nicholas and Carole, who had seated themselves at a table some distance away, he asked her what it was she had been going to tell him.
"It doesn't amount to much now," she said ruefully, but nonetheless told him of her refusal to allow Carole to come to the party and the pleasure she had felt at her first victory.
"Although," she concluded bitterly, "he obviously arranged to meet her today instead."
Looking at her, John was aware that in these few moments she had lost all her gaiety, and he felt blind rage at the injustice of Fate which made her love a man who obviously did not want her when he himself would have given his soul for the chance Nicholas was throwing away.
"Try to pretend you're finding my company as pleasant as Carole seems to be finding your husband's," he urged. "You know, Jane, I've got an idea."
"What?"
"Come out with me tonight."
"What for?"
He laughed ruefully. "You're not the most tactful of women, are you? I've just told you I love you and when I ask you to come out with me, you ask why."
She put out an impulsive hand. "John dear, forgive me."
"That's all right, darling. But-you will come out with me, won't you? Let Nicholas see that other men find you attractive even if he doesn't."
Had John suggested this before she had seen Nicholas and Carole together, Jane would have refused. But now she hesitated. It had come as a shock to realise that John Masters was in love with her, and she was loath to use him in order to make Nicholas jealous. In the few short weeks of her marriage she had met John several times, although they had never been alone since the night she had cried on his shoulder, but he ranked high on her list of friends and to accept his offer now could only end in his being hurt.
Guessing what was passing through her mind, he bent closer. "Look, dear girl, forget my confession of love. Pretend it was never mentioned and look upon me merely as a friend. Come out with me tonight and stop thinking about all the why and wherefores!"
"It still seems wrong to use you."
"I've never had a girl hesitate about accepting a date with me!" He gave a wide, lopsided grin that somehow did not reach his eyes. "I command you to say yes. Will you?"
"AD right, John, I'll come. And I'll fly to forget what you've said -1 should hate to lose your friendship."
"You'll never do that, you foolish girl," he said lightly, though to himself he vowed that as long as there was breath in his body he would always be ready to help this girl who had made him realise the emptiness and futility of. a life without love.
Although Jane tried not to look at Nicholas, she was terribly aware of him, and kept glancing surreptitiously in his direction, conscious of the fact that Carole was looking her most radiant in a cherry-red dress and flowered hat. They seemed engrossed in each other, and she could have cried at the sight of her husband's dark head bent so close to the blonde one.
She put down her fork with a clatter. "Do you mind if we go now?"
"But you haven't eaten anything." Then seeing her expression : "All right, my dear, I'll get the check."
As they moved out of the restaurant they had to pass the table where Nicholas and Carole were silting, and she felt John's arm press hers firmly. "Chin up!" he whispered.
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The words helped Jane to achieve a gay smile as they neared Nicholas's table, though when she spoke, it was only to her husband.
"Hallo, Nicholas! You might have told me you'd be here. It's embarrassing to meet your husband when you're lunching tete-a-tete with another man!"
Nicholas, who had risen at her approach, made no answer to this but unexpectedly said: "Will you join us for coffee?"
Before she could reply, John took her by the arm. , "Sorry, old man, but your wife and I have a date to view some pictures at two o'clock, and it's nearly that now."
Without more ado, he propelled her quickly out of the
Restaurant and Jane enjoyed the fleeting look of surprise which flashed across Nicholas's face.
"Well, well," drawled Carole as she watched them disappear. "John seems to be quite smitten. Do you think he'll marry her when you get your annulment?"
"How should I know, for heaven's sake!"
"Nicky!"
Instantly he was contrite. "Forgive me, darling, I feel like a bear with a sore head today - must be the morning after the night before!"
"That's all right, dearest." But although her voice was forgiving, Carole knew a sudden disquiet at his words, and determined to make sure he instituted proceedings as soon as it was possible for him to do so.
It was nearly four o'clock when Jane arrived home. She let herself into the house humming a snatch of tune as she walked across the hall into the lounge, stopping in surprise at the sight of Nicholas sitting in an armchair.
"You're late," he said curtly, and watched as she bent and warmed her hands at the blaze.
The firelight flickered across her face, giving it a radiant vividness and warmth he had not seen for a long time, and he was reminded of the warmth and kindness she had shown to him during the long period of his convalescence. Throughout the afternoon he had been unable to concentrate on any work, for a picture of her and Masters had kept appearing before his eyes, filling him with an illogical resentment against them both.
"I was surprised to see you lunching with John," he said. "I hadn't realised you were friends."
"You introduced me to him," she replied demurely, a sharp thrill of excitement running through her at the tone of his voice. "It's the first time we've lunched together though."
"I hope it will be the last. If you -’’ He broke off as Devons came in wheeling the tea trolley, and not until the butler had withdrawn did Nicholas make a move to speak. But here again he was thwarted by Jane.
"Tea with lemon?" she asked sweetly before he could utter the first word.
"Thank you." He took the proffered cup.
"Sandwich?"
He accepted one, guessing she was doing her best to stop him from talking. Yet somehow, instead of being annoyed, an irrational feeling of affection rushed over him; she had an air of quietness that went well with the room, and the firelight gave her an added serenity that he found oddly disturbing.
"Jane," he found himself saying, "must you go out with John Masters again?"
"There's no must about it. I happen to enjoy his company."
"Don't you have any girl-friends?"
"That wouldn't affect my seeing John!" She smiled. "Honestly, Nicholas, you sound as if you're jealous!"
"Not at all," he said stiffly. "It's just that I don't want you to go out with another man. After all, we did agree to keep up some pretence for this year."
Yet despite what Nicholas was saying, there was an almost beseeching expression in his eyes, and she found it hard to believe he was the same man who, for the past weeks of their marriage, had humiliated her in every way he could. Rationality told her not to do as he wanted. After all, the whole purpose of seeing John was to make Nicholas realise that though he did not find her desirable, other men did, and to do as he asked might very well only satisfy a dog-in-the-manger attitude, rather than encourage him to see her as a woman. Yet despite knowing this she found it impossible to refuse him, and she was about to say so when the telephone on the small table by her side began to ring.
She picked up the receiver, heard the lilting voice and held the phone out to Nicholas. "Carole wants to speak to you."
As he took the receiver Jane stood up and moved to the door, stopping on the way to collect the few parcels she had left on the end of the settee. She heard his voice, guarded and careful as he spoke to Carole, and she turned and interrupted him.
"Nicholas."
He put his hand over the mouthpiece. "Yes?"
"If you won't go out with Carole, I won't go out with John."
She saw the answer on his face and knew she had lost. "You see?" she said with finality. "It's no use. You can't expect me not to see John if you won't agree not to see Carole."
Knowing the futility of further discussion she walked out, furious with herself for having considered - even for a moment — that his request had been prompted by jealousy. All it had been was pride; the fear that someone might see her with another man and start to gossip.
"They'll have more to gossip about than a lunch or two," she vowed, remembering the way Carole had openly fawned upon Nicholas earlier that day. Two could play the same game - as Nicholas was certainly going to discover.
The bright summer sunshine shone down on Orme Square and lit up the topmost room of the house where Jane was sitting. It was the room which had once been Nicholas's nursery, and she loved its shabby, well-used furniture and worn rugs.
She was seated now on a couch while John, in a paint-daubed smock, was busy at work in the far corner of the room where the light was best.
During their first evening together, an evening which had been the forerunner of many to follow, he had suggested they start work on the portrait.
"Think how furious it'll make Carole," he urged. "Especially if I tell her it's going to be put in the family gallery!"
"The Hamiltons don't have a family gallery," Jane replied dryly. "Sir Angus was the first baronet."
"But of good Scottish descent," John retorted, "and that means there are bound to be family paintings hanging around somewhere! Anyway, just the idea of it will make Carole furious."
Despite herself, Jane had been sufficiently amused at the idea to let John start work as soon as he wished, and afraid she would change her mind if he delayed, he began working the day afterwards, coming to the house twice a week and making his way straight to the old nursery which Jane had turned into a studio for him.
For the first few weeks she had worn a white chiffon dress in which he had decided to paint her, but as the portrait neared completion she was able to wear what she liked, and apart from having to sit still occasionally, could relax on the settee.
"Is there very much more to do?" she asked.
"No. A few more hours and it'll be finished."
"Then you won't be wanting me any more?"
She asked the question in all innocence, not dreaming of the response it would evoke, for he threw down his brush and strode over to her.
"I'll always want you, Jane! Don't you know that?"
She sighed and refused to meet his eyes. "I was hoping you'd changed."
"So quickly! That's not very flattering - neither to yourself, nor to me."
"I'm sorry. It's just that loving someone who doesn't love
you is so -" she stopped, unable to go on, and with a groan he knelt beside her and placed his head against the soft material covering her breasts.
"Poor Jane. I know exactly how you feel."
She looked down at him with affection, stroking the unruly hair that sprang back from his temples and noticing the flecks of grey in it.
"I'm so sorry I don't love you," she whispered.
He raised his head and forced a smile. "So am I. I'd make a wonderful husband!" He caught her hand. "Would you do something for me, Jane?"
"If I can."
"Kiss me. Just once. I won't ever ask you again."
Filled with compassion, she leaned forward and did as he asked. "If only it were Nic
holas," she thought, and her body went limp as she imagined that the lips touching hers belonged to her husband.
It was thus that Nicholas saw them. Returning home to collect some papers, he decided on the spur of the moment to visit the studio to see how the portrait was progressing. Quietly entering the room, he saw them in each other's arms, and as quietly he closed the door behind him and went back downstairs, his whole being roused to fury. In the past weeks, analysing the way Jane had behaved to him from the time they had met, he had come to the conclusion - without conceit, he hoped - that she loved him, and seeing her in Masters' arms not only gave the lie to-this, but also dealt a serious blow to his critical faculty.
He returned to his office and worked like an automaton for the rest of the day, forcing himself not to think of the scene he had just witnessed- At four o'clock his secretary buzzed through to say Miss Sheridan was on the telephone, and for an instant he did not answer: he was anxious to talk to Carole, yet somehow reluctant.
"Shall I put her through, sir, or shall I say you're busy?"
"No," he said abruptly. "I'll speak to her."
At once Carole's husky voice came through the receiver: "I've been trying to get you for ages. What time are you picking me up tonight, darling ?"
He hesitated, for the first time experiencing no thrill at the thought of seeing her. Uppermost in his mind was his determination to have a showdown with Jane; to tell her what he had seen and to make it clear he had no intention of allowing her to continue behaving in such a way.
"I'm afraid I can't make it tonight," he heard himself saying. "Something's cropped up at the office."
"Oh, Nicky, you might have told me before!"
"I didn't know until a little while ago. Look, darling, I can't talk to you now, it's rather awkward. I'll ring you back later." And without waiting for her to reply he put down the receiver and pressed the buzzer for his secretary.
It was nearly five-thirty when Nicholas looked up from his desk as a knock came at the door, but before he could answer, it opened and Carole walked in.
She did not move over to him, but leaned against the dark panelling, aware of the beautiful picture she made. When Nicholas had hung up on her so abruptly she had experienced such a feeling of disquiet that she had made up her mind to go and see him immediately, and had dressed for the meeting with the care of a general preparing himself for battle.
Roberta Leigh - In Name Only Page 9
