Roberta Leigh - In Name Only

by Roberta Leigh

  CHAPTER IX

  The Paris-London plane taxied smoothly along the tarmac and came to a halt by the entrance leading to Customs and Immigration. The doors of the aircraft swung back and the passengers started to stream out.

  Jane surreptitiously peered into a mirror near the exit and regained confidence from her reflection. How different she appeared from the frightened and unhappy giriwho had left England six weeks ago. Now her fear was camouflaged by elegant clothes, her unhappiness masked by the skilful application of make-up. Yet underneath she remained the same, and the closer she came to seeing Nicholas, the greater grew me fear of losing all her hard-won poise.

  Aunt Agatha looked at her sharply. "Buck up, child," she said, "or you'll ruin your entrance. You look lie a lovesick girl who's scared her bridegroom won't turn up at the altar!"

  "But what if Nicholas isn't here?"

  "Then you'll see him in London."

  "You mustn't leave town until I do."

  "Don't worry about that," Aunt Agatha snorted. "Half the fun of this trip will be watching Nicholas's face when he sees you. But don't worry, he'll be at the airport."

  "You shouldn't have wired him."

  "Why not? You're still his wife and he's still supposed to be acting the part of a loving husband!"

  Twenty minutes later, with their luggage cleared through Customs, they walked into the teeming arrival hall ta find Nicholas waiting for them. Several photographers 't7fdsdd re busy taking flashlight photographs and Nicholas greeted Jane and his aunt quickly, leading them immediately down the escalator to their car.

  Driving along the motorway to London, Jane was conscious that Nicholas was frequently and covertly watching her, even while he was talking to Aunt Agatha.

  "I hope Percy has finished the house," the old lady said suddenly, interrupting one of Nicholas's questions. "Only a couple of days ago," Nicholas replied. "What's it like?" "You'll soon see it for yourself."

  "Not today," his aunt replied firmly. "I intend to go straight home to the country."

  Hearing this Jane looked at Aunt Agatha in dismay. "Surely you'll stay with us for a couple of days ?"

  Implicit in the words was Jane's need of her, but though she must have guessed it, Aunt Agatha remained firm.

  "I'll be in London in about a month; right now I need a long rest. I'm an old lady, child, and I'm exhausted."

  "You weren't an old lady in Paris," Jane retorted. "You ran me off my feet!"

  Aunt Agatha chuckled and looked mischievously at her nephew. "I'm sure you and Jane won't be wanting me around for the next few weeks."

  He avoided answering by changing the subject. "If you're quite sure you want to drive home today, the chauffeur can take you."

  "Marvellous, dear boy. Then I won't even get out of the car."

  Still refusing to come in even for a single moment, as Aunt Agatha waved Jane good-bye at Orme Square, and watching the Rolls glide to the end of the road and disappear, Jane knew herself to be entirely on her own.

  With as much composure as she could muster she walked into the house, stopping with pleasure as she saw the transformation that had taken place. How large the hall looked now all the heavy furniture had been replaced by graceful

  Regency pieces, and how much lighter since the dark carpets had been removed to show the white and black marble floor.

  "It's fantastic," she murmured.

  "So is the bill," Nicholas said drily.

  She ignored the remark. "Do you mind if I have a quick look around?"

  He shrugged and walked into the drawing-room, leaving her to make a hasty tour of the downstairs rooms before she returned, completely satisfied, to find Nicholas pouring tea.

  "Aren't you going back to the office?" she asked.

  "I've finished for today." He handed her a cup, filled his own and continued to watch her as he drank.

  He knew without having to think about it that the change that had taken place in her came from more than a different style of hair or clothes, and he was forced to acknowledge that she looked lovelier than he had ever seen her. But it was not her appearance that made him feel strangely disturbed and aware of her, rather it came from a change in her manner, an elusive yet disturbing femininity.

  "That's the third in an hour," she said.

  "I beg your pardon?" He was startled out of his thoughts.

  "That's the third cigarette you've smoked in an hour," she repeated. "I thought you'd given it up."

  "I had."

  She pointed to the cigarette, her large grey eyes, which he always remembered soft and gentle, now mocking him. "You wouldn't be nervous of me, would you, Nicholas?"

  Savagely he ground out his cigarette. "Not nervous," he said abruptly, "just wondering how I can put into words what I -" He stopped and walked over to the mantelpiece, picking up several of the vases and then putting them down again. "That letter I wrote you," he said jerkily, "I want to apologize for it. I must have been out of my mind."

  "I can understand how you felt."

  "I still shouldn't have said what I did. It was as much my fault as yours - in fact I was probably more to blame for being -"

  "Such a fool?" she interrupted.

  He swung round and looked at her. "Was I so foolish? After all, you're a very lovely girl."

  Her cheeks flamed and she was glad that the tea-trolley was in front of her, giving her an opportunity to busy herself with pouring another cup of tea which she did not want.

  "What's Carole said about it?" she asked, picking up her cup.

  "She doesn't know."

  The tea slopped into the saucer and Jane set both cup and saucer down again. "You don't mean you haven't told her yet?"

  "That's exactly what I mean." His expression was bleak. "It isn't easy. The night you and I spent together… it's put paid to our getting an annulment. You know that, don't you?"

  "So you said."

  The words reminded him of the letter he had written to her, and he reddened. "That's why I haven't told Carole. When she knows we'll have to wait three years…"

  "If she loves you, she'll wait."

  "I hope to heaven you're right!"

  Nicholas's words stabbed Jane like a knife and she marvelled that she could sit here so calmly when she longed to burst into tears.

  "You'll have to tell her some time," she said, forcing out the words.

  "I know. I've talked to Trupp about it and the only way of getting a divorce earlier is by pleading special circumstances."

  "What do you mean?"

  He avoided her gaze and she knew the question had embarrassed him. "If Carole…" he paused, then said in a rush: "If Carole became pregnant."

  "I see," Jane said bleakly, and bent her head to the teacup. So much for her hopes of having extra time to try and make Nicholas love her. If Carole was afraid of losing him the answer was obvious: have his child.

  "We'd better leave things as they are for the moment," Nicholas said. "In a few weeks I'll move to my club and tell Carole the truth. If she - if she'll forgive me, we might — might live together anyway. Or if she prefers it we'll go abroad until the divorce."

  "And the Company? You're managing director. Will you give it up?"

  "Not if we lived in Paris. I'd commute."

  "I'm sorry about it all." She tried to infuse a certain amount of lightness into her tone, but failed dismally.

  "It wasn't your fault," he murmured. "It was just some-tiling that… just something that happened."

  They looked at one another steadily, then he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad there's a truce between us," he said, and walked out.

  During the following weeks Jane worked unceasingly for the Duchess of Banster's committee, returning every evening to an empty house, too exhausted to do justice to dinner, and contenting herself with a supper-tray in her room. But no work or fatigue would obliterate the bitterness that filled her whenever she thought of Nicholas and Carole, and though she continued to feign indifference when she h
eard their names coupled together, there were many occasions when she felt like running away.

  Late one afternoon some three weeks after her return from Paris, Jane walked out of the consulting room of a Harley Street specialist, his congratulations still ringing in her ears. She stepped blindly into her car and leant back against the cushioned seat while scalding tears poured down her cheeks.

  How could she tell Nicholas what she had just learned ?

  During these past weeks she had little realised that the night she had spent with him - a night which seemed so long ago - would have its repercussions now. More than ever she knew how crazy she had been to allow him to stay, how foolish to have believed that her own love might have been enough to awaken his.

  In her bedroom once more a strange apathy overcame her and with a sigh she sank down on the bed and tried to collect her thoughts. But only one thing filled her mind -she was carrying the child of the man she loved.

  The telephone jangled across the silence and she picked it up to hear John's voice, deep and reassuring.

  "I was beginning to think I'd never find you at home. Whenever I've phoned you've always been busy." His tone deepened. "I'm longing to see you, Jane. Can you come out with me tonight? I've missed you since we've been back."

  "I've missed you too," she admitted honestly.

  "Then why didn't you return any of my calls? Still worrying about hurting me? I thought we'd agreed how to act!"

  "Oh, John," she gave a tremulous sigh. "It'll be good to see you again. And I'm sorry I didn't call you before. I can be ready by seven, if that's not too early for you?"

  "It can never be too early. You should know that by now."

  She replaced the receiver and leaned against the bed-head, despair engulfing her as she tried to mink about the future. Nicholas had a right to know she was going to bear his child. How he behaved when he learned of it was for him to decide, but her duty was to consider the-baby. Her lips curved in a smile at the knowledge that her body was nurturing some part of Nicholas, and with all her heart she hoped it was a boy.

  In a mental state that went from euphoric happiness to deepest despair she slowly started to take off her suit and get ready for her evening with John.

  Downstairs Nicholas let himself into the house and moodily dropped his coat on a chair. He had seen Carole the previous evening but had pleaded pressure of work as a reason for not seeing her tonight, using it as an excuse in order to have a few hours alone with his thoughts.

  What had happened to make him suddenly so aware of Jane?

  At first he had put it down to her different appearance, but after a couple of days he had dismissed this; a change of dress and hair-style alone could not have caused the change taking place in him. Never had he been more conscious of her than he was now, and he found himself remembering - when he least expected it - many of the things they had discussed during his year of convalescence after the accident. In the past he had only used his critical faculties to analyse other people's problems, but now he was faced with a problem of his own, and one made more difficult because he was not sure exactly what the problem was. All he knew was that for the first time in his life he was unsure of his feelings, and his indecision had never been more apparent than during a meeting he had had earlier in the day when one of his visitors had unexpectedly congratulated him on the work his wife was doing on the Banster Committee.

  "I don't know much about it," Nicholas had been forced to confess, "but I daresay Jane will tell me when I have to sign the cheque!"

  "It's not your money she's collecting," came the reply, "that's where you're lucky! She's been wheedling it out of everyone else! My wife works on the committee too, and she told me your wife even got the Prime Minister to give a grant to the organisation."

  Nicholas found it disquieting to be complimented on Jane's ability, yet he could not help being proud of her, though the feeling only added to his already confused state of mind. His attitude towards Carole was changing and though she could still arouse his desire, it was an emotion that died the moment he left her. Never blind to her faults, he was seeing far more than he had ever noticed before, but above all it was her limited intelligence that irked him most. How banal her conversation was, veering from clothes to jewellery and jet-set gossip, with never a thought to the horrors of the war-torn world around them.

  But he could not blame Carole for what she was; if blame lay with anyone it was with himself for never having realised her limitations.

  It was in this frame of mind that he returned home. All was quiet and the green baize door leading to the servants' quarters was closed. He could see no sign of Jane, but as he walked into the library he heard the closing of an upstairs door and the soft swish of skirts. Moving back, he lifted his head, a pulse starting to beat in his throat as he saw the beautiful girl slowly descending the stairs. "Jane!"

  He was unaware he had said the word aloud, but hearing it, Jane faltered and caught hold of the banister.

  "You're back early, Nicholas."

  "I was tired."

  She came down and paused on the last stair, looking lovelier than he had ever seen her in a hyacinth-blue dress that seemed to give her skin the iridescent sheen of a pearl.

  "Are you going out ? " he asked.

  "Yes. John's calling for me."

  Nicholas came a step closer. He saw the sparkle in her eyes, so recently washed by tears, and, interpreting it as a sign of pleasure, was filled with such jealousy that he had to use all his self-control not to pull her into his arms and order her to stay at home.

  Sensing his tension, Jane misunderstood it. "He can't even bear it when I'm near to him," she thought despairingly, and gathered her white fur wrap close around her.

  Seeing the movement as one of departure, Nicholas felt impelled to put some of his thoughts into words. Jane was clever and she knew him better than anyone - better perhaps than he knew himself. Perhaps if he could make her understand how he felt she might be able to help him.

  "Jane, there's something I -" He stopped as a bell rung and in answer to its shrill appeal Devons came through the baize door.

  "Yes?" Jane said to Nicholas. "You were saying——-"

  "It doesn't matter." His expression was remote. "Masters has arrived, so I won't keep you."

  Without a backward glance he went into the library, but long after he heard her drive away he paced the room, finding it difficult to accept the sudden astounding truth that had come to him. No longer did he need to think things out. The emotion that had gripped him as Jane had walked out to another man had told him plainly enough what had happened. His jealousy of Jane was not borne of pride but of an equally primeval desire: man's need to totally possess the woman he loved.

  Yes, he loved Jane.

  He marvelled at his stupidity in not having known it before. How could he have-fallen in love with someone like Carole when Jane had always been there ready to take him? Or had he been too emotionally unstable after his accident to want to share his life with a girl who would have demanded so much from him? And Jane would certainly demand the best. Not of his wealth or position - but of his thoughts and ideals. Yet even as he admitted the truth of his feelings, he could see no quick and happy solution to his future. How could he expect Jane to believe him if he told her he loved her? After the stupid and infatuated way he had behaved over Carole, it would need more than words to convince Jane that he war even able to understand what the word meant!

  With a groan he sat down behind his desk, wishing he could turn back the clock to last summer when she had loved him and all he had needed to do was to have accepted it. But today he was the supplicant, and it was an unfamiliar and painful r61e for him to play.

  It was not until Jane was sipping her coffee, with dinner long since over, that she told John she was going to have a baby. At first she was not sure he had heard her, for he made no move and said no word, but as she started to speak again he gave a muttered oath and the cigarette he had been about to li
ght fell crumpled on to the table.

  "Does Nicholas know?" he asked.

  She shook her head.

  "Don't tell him! Come away with me, Jane. Let me take care of you - let me look after you both! Once you're divorced we'll get married and I'll adopt the baby legally."

  "I can't. It wouldn't be fair - neither to you nor to the child. Anyway, Nicholas has a right to know… to decide what he wants to do."

  "He might blame you - might see it as your way of trying to keep him. Have you thought of that ? "

  "I've thought of everything," she said bitterly. "I've thought so much that I can't think any more." She drew a deep shuddering breath and pushed back her chair. "Would you mind if I went home ? "

  "Of course not." Instantly he signalled for the bill and kept the conversation general until he drew his car to a stop outside her house.

  "I'll phone you tomorrow, Jane. I don't want you rushing off somewhere by yourself."

  "You must have read my thoughts," she said drily. "But don't worry, I've no intention of running away from this problem."

  With a sigh she let herself into the hall and wearily went to her room. She slipped off her evening dress and putting on the filmy nightdress and negligee left out for her, sat down at the dressing-table and unpinned her hair, letting it fall in a dark cloud to her shoulders.

  Behind her there was a slight sound as the communicating door between Nicholas's room and her own opened and she turned, surprised to see him in the doorway.

  "I've been waiting for you," he said.

  "Any particular reason?"

  "Aren't you seeing rather a lot of Masters?"

  "This is the first time I've been out with him since I came home." Her voice was cool. "Anyway, we've already discussed this."

  He ignored the remark, jealousy impelling him to hurt her. "It was rather a coincidence you were both in Paris at the same time, wasn't it?"

  "Life's full of coincidences."

  "It happens to be one I don't like. In fact I don't like having your name bandied around by every scandalmonger in town."

  "My name?" she flared. "What about yours? Don't you realise everybody knows you're with Carole every night? That they're already taking bets as to how long our marriage will last? Yet the moment I go out with another man you come in here shouting like a thwarted schoolboy who wants to have his cake and eat it too!" She moved over to face him, her eyes flashing. "It won't work, Nicholas. What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, and if you think I'm going to sit at home each night and -"