Nodding, she followed him to the cafe where they had gone before, and when the usual pale gray liquid that passed for coffee had been set in front of them, she studied his face again.
"You are not looking well, Roger. Is it because of Diana?"
"What does she have to do with it?"
"You are in love with her. I—"
"For God's sake!" he burst out. "Are you running an agony column?"
"You and Diana are making your own agony."
"Don't tell me you spout this rot to her?" Roger was looking furious. "Damn it, Tanya, you've got to stop interfering in other people's lives."
"Very well." Her eyes were wide, unblinking. "Go on with your pretense. You and Diana. Life is so short and meaningless that it doesn't matter if you play act your way through it."
"Don't!" His voice was anguished. "You know I don't believe that. But…" He shook his head. What was the use of fighting his feelings any more? Of course he loved Diana; he would love her for the rest of his life.
"You're right," he muttered. "But where will it get me? We'd never be happy together."
Tears glittered in Tanya's beautiful eyes. "You must try. Diana loves you too. She's never admitted it to me, but I know she does."
"You're wrong. She's too much her father's daughter. And even if she liked me…"
"She loves you."
"She loves her father more."
"As much, perhaps," Tanya conceded. "But not more. That's why you must show her the way."
"Show her the way?"
"Tell her how you feel."
"She'd still never do anything to upset her father."
'' Have you asked her to marry you?''
"Don't be crazy!"
"Then how do you expect her to break away from him? Or are you waiting for her to propose to you?"
"You're trying to make me look a fool," Roger said curtly. "And you know as well as I do that unless Diana stands up to her father we wouldn't have a chance of being happy together."
"You must give her a reason to stand up to him," Tanya said.
"I've no intention of making the first move."
Tanya flung her hands in the air. "You are stubborn, like a donkey! You must make the first move—she must make the first move—never have I heard so many moves with everybody standing still!" She leaned close to him. "If you will give Diana some encouragement—enough to show her she is in your thoughts—I'm convinced she will find her courage."
"I can't tell her," he stated. "If you're wrong… No, it's out of the question. She'd laugh in my face."
"Poor little boy," Tanya mocked with the first cruelty she had ever shown to him. "I did not realize you were so afraid."
The color in his face rivaled his hair. "Leave it," he said tersely.
She nodded. "I will leave the coffee also. It is too weak."
"Like me." He tossed some coins on the table and followed her from the cafe. "Are we still friends?" she asked, her voice wobbly. Without hesitation he gripped her shoulders. "Yes, always, Tanya. Always."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Diana, where are you?"
Lord Biddell's voice boomed along the hall and the huge antlers on the head of a slaughtered stag decorating one wall appeared to quiver with the sound.
Diana turned from the front door. "What is it, father?"
"Come into the library. I want to talk to you."
"I'm on my way out. Won't it do later?''
"No, it won't," her father shouted back. "Come here!"
With a shrug, she obeyed him and found him sitting behind his massive oak desk, a cigar in his mouth, his ruddy face looking as though nothing in the world could startle it out of its lines of self-satisfaction.
"I hear you've been going around with that Poulton chap," he began abruptly. "It is true?"
"No, it isn't."
"Somebody saw you coming out of his house."
"I went to see him," she replied. "But that hardly constitutes going out with him."
"Well, whatever it constitutes, I won't have it. Do you hear?"
"I can hardly avoid hearing. Not when you're bellowing at me like this."
Her father looked startled. "What's up with you, gel? In the last few weeks you've changed."
"Maybe I'm growing up."
"Growing up! What nonsense are you talking? You're already grown up!"
"I'm surprised you realize it."
"Don't be clever with me," he growled. "If I—" He stopped as the housekeeper entered, carrying a large bouquet of long-stemmed roses and a mass of violets. "What the devil's that?"
"They're for Miss Diana, sir," the woman replied.
Looking as surprised as her father, Diana took the flowers and from the envelope attached to the paper, extracted a card.
"Don't be like the violets that grow best when in the shade," she read, "but be like the roses that open themselves wide to the warmth of the sun." Below the message was Roger's scrawled signature, and color stained her cheeks as she quickly made for the door.
"Who are they from?" her father called after her.
"Roger Poulton."
"What the devil does he mean by sending you flowers?"
"Why shouldn't he? He's a friend of mine.''
"You haven't seen him for years," Lord Biddell growled. "It's that foreign gel who's made you think like this. Adrian's wife. I always knew no good would come out of that marriage."
"Why shouldn't I be friends with Roger?" Diana exploded. "I've known him for years and he's exceptionally clever.".
"I'll grant you he's clever. I've heard one or two of his speeches and he knows how to get his point across—even if it's the wrong one. But cleverness isn't everything, my gel, and you've got to stop seeing him."
"I'm not seeing him."
"You went to his house."
"Because I…" There was no way Diana could bring herself to tell her father the real reason and instead she was forced to lie. "I used to go there when I was a child and—and I wanted to see him again."
"What for? You're not a child now. You're a woman and you should behave like one."
"I would if you treated me like one! Unfortunately you've always treated me as if I were a child; telling me what to do, what to wear, whom to see." Her voice was choked with tears. "Even whom I should marry."
"And a fine mess that turned out to be," her father barked. "I've an idea Adrian's fallen for that wife of his."
"Good luck to him if he has! He'd be crazy if he sent her away."
"Now I know you're mad," her father grunted.
"Why? Because I've no intention of marrying Adrian?"
"Because of Poulton?" her father roared. "Don't tell me that bounder means anything to you?"
"He means everything!" Diana was so angry she was hardly aware of what she was saying. "And don't call him a bounder! I love him, do you hear? I love him!"
There was a long silence and it was difficult to know who was more astonished: Diana or her father. But her father found his composure first and when he spoke, he did so almost gently.
"Do you know what you're saying, Diana?"
"I er—I didn't. Not until I actually said it," she whispered. "Until now I—I didn't even know it was true."
"Of course it isn't true!" Lord Biddell leaned back in his chair and tried to look avuncular. "You're over- wrought, my gel. It's all this business of Adrian that's upset you. And naturally you've got pride and you don't want to admit you're hurt."
"I'm not hurt because of Adrian. I wouldn't marry him even if he were free. I don't love him. I never did."
"Maybe you do, maybe you don't. That's neither here nor there for the moment. Right now I'm concerned to get you on an even keel again. Perhaps you should take a cruise? Go to America or the Bahamas. You'll feel a different person when you've had a change of scene."
"I already feel a different person. And for the first time in my life I know what I want without you telling me."
"I've only wanted what was b
est for you," her father said. "You're like a son to me and—"
"No, Father! I'm not a son and I never can be. That's always been the trouble. I've tried to be the son you never had and because of it, I've failed to be a woman. We've both been fooling ourselves and we've got to stop. I can't carry your name for ever, and even if I gave you a grandson he wouldn't carry it either.''
Lord Biddell's face darkened. "I suppose you expect me to welcome a grandson with the name of Poulton?"
It was a moment before Diana replied. "I've never thought of it until now but… but why not?"
"Does the fellow love you?" her father asked abruptly.
"Why should he? I've never given him any encouragement."
"Men like him don't need encouragement." Her father saw the flash in her eyes and said quickly: "At least he's got more sense than you! He knows his place even if you don't!"
"We've all got a place in the world," she said furiously, "and you're no more important in it than anyone else."
Not giving her father a chance to reply, she flung open the door and ran out. Dropping the bouquet on to one of the tables in the hall, she raced out of the house. She had been going to the post office when her father had asked to see her, but she could no longer face meeting anyone in the village. Her mind in a turmoil, she sped through the bushes to the drive, and only when she saw the gates leading to Adrian's house did she realize she had come in search of Tanya.
Tanya was the one person to whom she could talk freely. Tanya was the only one who had realized the truth of her feelings before she had realized them for herself. Breathlessly she rounded a bend and saw the house in front of her. Adrian's car was by the door and he and Tanya were climbing into it.
"Hello there," he called. "I've a meeting in Little Compton. Care to come along?"
"I can't." Diana reached the car and looked at Tanya. "Are you going with Adrian?"
"Yes. Did you want to talk to me?"
"We can't stop now," Adrian cut in. "We're late already."
"I'll telephone you when I get back," Tanya said.
"I'm not sure I'll be home." Diana made a vague gesture with her hand." Perhaps it's best if I call you."
She headed across the grass, taking the short cut she generally used when coming over from her home. Tanya watched until she had disappeared behind the shrubbery and then turned to Adrian.
"I'm sure there's something wrong. Maybe I should have stayed here and talked to her."
"It's too late now. I'm sure it can wait."
They drove to the meeting in silence and only when Tanya had taken her place on the dais behind Adrian and saw the audience looking expectantly up at him was she able to forget Diana and concentrate on her husband. He looked unusually pale and she knew he had sensed the air of belligerency in the hall. She could sense it too and knew the meeting was going to be a noisy one.
It was even worse than she had expected. Adrian was only able to speak for a few minutes without interruption, then hecklers took over and he was shouted down. He did his best to gain control but as the shouting grew worse he looked in Tanya's direction. She knew he was waiting for her to signal him that they should go, but she was determined not to let him walk out on his critics. If Adrian genuinely believed in what he was saying, he must find the strength to make people listen to him. Imperceptibly she shook her head and he squared his shoulders and turned back to face the audience.
The din continued but he raised his voice above it and gradually a few of his words could be heard. Some of the people quieted and started to listen to him again, and when a heckler shouted at him from the far end of the hall, he turned what could have been a dangerous question into a joke against himself. From then on the atmosphere changed and the meeting swung in his favor.
When it was over the storm of applause made up for the first bad quarter of an hour, and as they left the hall, Adrian caught Tanya's arm.
"Thanks for making me stick it out. I wouldn't have done if you hadn't been with me."
It was the first positive acknowledgment he had made to her that her presence had helped him, and she was angry because she felt so warmed by it.
"I'm glad I can be of service to you," she replied.
"Service is the wrong word to use."
She did not answer and he took away his arm. During their drive home he was once more aloof, answering her questions courteously but contributing nothing to the conversation himself. After a while Tanya huddled silently in her seat. She was glad only two days separated them from polling time. Once it was over she would be free to go; free to tear Adrian out of her life and build a new one for herself.
There was still more than an hour to go before dinner when they entered the house, and Tanya paused in the hall. "I think I'll go over to Diana."
"If you'd mentioned it earlier, I could have dropped you off. Hang on a moment and I'll drive you there."
"There's no need. A walk will do me good."
Across the hall their eyes met. His were unsmiling and his lips were set in such a tight line that she thought he was going to lose his temper. Then with a shrug he turned his back on her and went into the library.
Refusing to think of him, Tanya headed for Diana's home. Only when she reached the imposing entrance did she know a momentary fear, though this evaporated as her ring brought a friendly-looking maid to the door.
"I'm afraid Miss Diana isn't at home," the girl said to Tanya's query. "His Lordship is waiting for her."
"Is that you, Diana?" Tanya jumped nervously as Lord Biddell's voice boomed down the hall and the man himself came into view, leaning on a walking stick.
"Oh, it's Adrian's wife, is it? Come in, come in. I thought it was Diana."
Tanya obeyed her host's instruction and followed him to the library.
"Can't think what's happened to the gel," he said. "It's well past my dinner time and I've never known her be so late."
"Do you know where she went?"
"No." He frowned. "Never known her behave like this. Shouted at me like a fishwife and then rushed out."
"At least she's showing a little spirit," Tanya said with daring.
"I suppose I owe that to you, eh?"
"I've never told your daughter how to behave."
"But you've been showing her by example," Lord Biddell grunted. "Don't know what's coming over the world these days. Everybody's taken leave of their senses. You wouldn't care to have dinner with me instead, would you?"
"I'm afraid I can't. The family will be expecting me back."
"Then you'd better go." Lord Biddell accompanied her to the door. "No point having everybody dine late!"
Tanya could not help smiling and he glared at her and then surprisingly smiled back.
"I wish Diana had your spirit."
"A few minutes ago you said she had—and that you didn't like it!"
"I hate being reminded of what I said!" Lord Biddell answered abruptly. "That's the trouble with women. They always remind you of what you've said!"
Tanya laughed outright. Taken in small doses Lord Biddell was amusing but she could quite see why Diana had been intimidated by him and also why—though rather late in life—she had finally rebelled.
By the time she reached Park Gates the family was already at the table and she slipped into her place next to Adrian—the position of hostess still being occupied by Mrs. Chesterton. She was grateful when Adrian only briefly inquired if she had seen Diana and did not pursue the subject until, dinner over and the family heading toward the drawing room and coffee, he slowed his steps and made it clear he wished to talk with her alone.
"I gather you didn't manage to speak to Diana?"
"She wasn't at home and her father didn't know where she was."
"Do you think they've quarreled?"
"I'm sure of it. I wish I hadn't gone with you to the meeting. I knew she wanted to talk to me about something important and I should have stayed and listened to her."
"It's pointless to feel guilty ab
out it. Anyway, I think you're worrying for nothing."
"I don't."
"She isn't the type to do anything silly," Adrian said quickly. "She's probably annoyed with herself for losing her temper and has gone off somewhere to cool down. I'm sure she’ll return home later this evening."
There was logic in what Adrian had said and she nodded. "I suppose you're right."
"That's the first time you've admitted I could be right about anything."
The words were humorous but there was no humor in Adrian's voice, only a bitterness which she could not understand. What right did he have to be bitter when she was the one who had been wronged?
"I won't have any coffee," she said flatly. "I would prefer to go to my room."
He walked with her to the foot of the stairs. "I won't always let you run away from me, Tanya. We have things to talk about but I will leave it until after the election."
She nodded and went up the stairs. She had no intention of having any discussion with Adrian, either before or after the election. But to say so would precipitate an argument and she was already at the end of her tether. Once she was no longer required to remain here, she would pack her bags and run.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bright sunlight shining through a chink in the curtains awakened Tanya the next morning. Memory returned instantly and she donned her dressing gown and ran downstairs to telephone Lord Biddell. But Diana had not returned home, nor had there been word from her.
"Have you contacted the police?" Tanya asked hesitantly.
"No!" It was an angry sound. "She rushed out of the house like a bad-tempered filly and she'll be back as soon as she's cooled off. I know my daughter."
Tanya forbore to say that by Lord Biddell's own account, Diana had never behaved in such a fashion before. Determinedly she tried to sow a seed of fear in his mind that might grow and precipitate him into taking some action if Diana did not return that day.
"She may have had an accident or been taken ill. Perhaps if you called the police…"
"If she'd had an accident I'd have heard about it soon enough," Lord Biddell said testily. "As for her being ill… she's never had a day's illness in her life. And I certainly don't want to bring in the police. Never heard such twaddle!"
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