Tor goodness' sake!' Anna exclaimed in a low voice
as she watched Leonora go up on tiptoe to kiss Julian's cheek. 'Who is that? She makes me feel like a peasant!'
Melanie didn't think there were many peasants around who would measure up to this description, but she did understand what Anna was getting at. This woman was sophistication with a capital S. Her white-blonde hair was swept up one side of her lovely classical features, and cascaded down the other. It was not a style that many women could have worn with such effect, she thought, as she replied, 'Leonora Talbot, our nearest neighbour. I've heard about her, but haven't met her yet. She's abroad a lot of the time, I'm told,' she added, as she saw that Julian was leading Leonora towards them.
`I only hope for your sake that she's married,' said Anna in a low voice just before they joined them.
`Melanie, I want you to meet a good friend of mine, and of Celia's, too. This is Leonora Talbot. Leonora, this is Melanie, my wife, and this is Anna Misting; you'll meet her father later. They've just become county residents,' he added, with a gleam of humour in his eyes.
Leonora's eyes, brown with tawny flecks in them, studied Melanie. The look was not resentful in any way, but it was a measuring look, as if wondering how this little mouse of a companion had hooked her boss into marriage. At least, that was Melanie's interpretation of the quick but thorough study she had received.
The rest of the evening went off smoothly enough, but Melanie, carrying out her duties of hostess and listening politely to the various remarks of her guests, found herself completely bemused by the appearance of Leonora Talbot, and, like Anna, wondered if she were married. Here, without a doubt, was the kind of
woman Julian ought to have married, and this, added to the plain fact that Celia was very fond of Leonora, made it all the more bewildering for Melanie.
She almost convinced herself that Leonora's husband was probably still abroad. The fact that Celia hadn't mentioned a husband didn't mean a thing, for it was inconceivable to Melanie that a beauty like Leonora could have sailed through life without some man making it his business to sweep her to the altar. Of course, there was such a thing as a career woman, she thought, but—that usually meant that there was someone in the background, who for certain reasons—Melanie felt like shaking her head.
Her smile had now become a fixture and felt stiff, but she had to keep going, and managed to lend a sympathetic ear to Mrs Hardwick's almost apologetic grievance about the way some people could lap up the sun without looking like a boiled lobster, her gaze resting on Leonora, now deep in conversation with Julian, who at that precise moment threw back his dark head and laughed at something she had said.
Melanie felt an unaccountable stab of pure jealousy, and was surprised at her reaction. Why should she care if Julian was enjoying the company of another woman? However, she quickly thrust this thought aside, and told Mrs Hardwick that she too was in the same league. 'It takes me ages to acquire a tan,' she said.
`Such a pity,' Mrs Hardwick said, 'and she's such a nice person, you know.'
Melanie blinked, not able to follow Mrs Hardwick's train of thought. 'I'm sorry ?'
`Oh, of course, it's all been a bit quick, hasn't it?' Mrs Hardwick said, then hastily corrected herself, 'Oh, I didn't mean ' She hesitated, then plunged
in. 'I don't suppose you do know much about Leonora, but it's common knowledge, and it will help you to understand her, I think,' she added. 'You see, she'd only been married for a year when she lost her husband. One of those terrible motorway pile-ups, you know. It was only providence that she wasn't with him at the time. Although she took it hard, as you can imagine.' She was silent for a moment, then said slowly, 'We did rather hope—' she broke off here, and laid an impulsive hand on Melanie's arm, 'but that's all water under the bridge now, isn't it?' she ended quickly, then started to talk about something else—anything, it seemed to the sensitive Melanie, to change the previous subject.
EVENTUALLY the evening came to a close. It had, it appeared, been a successful dinner party, from everyone else's point of view but Melanie's.
As tired as she was, when she prepared for bed her mind was still on Mrs Hardwick's impromptu confidences about Leonora Talbot's past. The woman had tried hard to dispel any worry Melanie might have had where Leonora was concerned; that could have been helpful under any other circumstances, but as it was, the knowledge opened up a whole new outlook.
Melanie climbed between the cool sheets of her divan, and as she lay down, she knew she ought to be experiencing great relief, for here, surely, was the answer to her problem.
Julian and Leonora had at one time aroused speculation among their neighbours about the possibility of their marrying, for both were free, but nothing had come of it; there was no other explanation for Mrs Hardwick's hasty, almost clumsy attempt to assure Melanie that this was past history.
Melanie frowned. Why hadn't Julian asked Leonora to marry him? Was it because Leonora had refused to give up her work? Knowing the kind of man Julian was, this was quite feasible. He wouldn't expect his wife to go rushing off to the Continent, or anywhere else, for that matter, at a moment's notice.
Her frown deepened. Yet now Leonora was seriously considering giving up her job. Why? Had she come to realise that Julian meant more to her than her career?
Did she know that Julian had married? Or did he save that particular news until the evening of the dinner party? Melanie blinked. Surely not! It would have been too cruel for words.
She turned restlessly. Julian could be cruel; there was a core of pure steel under that outgoing charm of his, as Melanie knew to her cost.
With a quick thump of her pillows, she made one last attempt to go to sleep. She was very tired, and ought to have slept the minute her head touched the pillow, but it was no use, and she gave up and sat with her arms clasped around her knees.
So here she was, the pig in the middle again, she thought bitterly. It wouldn't take long for Leonora to spot that her marriage to Julian was a marriage of convenience. His convenience, that was.
Melanie's small teeth caught her lower lip. Not that it mattered—it didn't, not one bit—but she would probably wonder why Melanie had settled for such an arrangement. Oh, no, she wouldn't, Melanie thought with a twist of her soft lips. She was a woman, wasn't she, and like the rest of them, she would find it inconceivable that Melanie was not in love with her husband, paper marriage or no paper marriage.
Her mind went back to the scene of Julian and Leonora, and the way he had flung back his head in laughter, and again she felt that stab of resentment. Jealousy? She shook her head violently. No, no, no! But a little voice whispered inside her, Yes, yes, yes!
Melanie groaned, and thrust a hand through her soft hair. All right, so she was jealous! Horribly jealous, but where did that get her? What chance did she have against someone like Leonora? None, none at all.
She drew in a swift breath. She mustn't let go. Not now, when her hopes of gaining her freedom from this impossible situation stood a chance of success.
What a mess she would have been in now if she had allowed herself to be mesmerised by Julian back on that island. To have come back with stars in her eyes, truly Julian's wife, and to have been confronted by Leonora! And what would have been worse than to have to listen to little Mrs Hardwick's revelations about the past!
Melanie shuddered. Well, sense had saved her from that experience, and it would again.
At breakfast the following morning, Celia was impatient to know if Melanie had remembered to ask Leonora if they could call on her that afternoon, and Melanie had to confess that she had not done so, that there just hadn't been a chance to get her on her own, which was true enough. Her natural shyness had prevented her from seeking out her company, particularly to ask a question that might have sounded a bit forward.
However, she did not have to explain in detail, for Julian came to her rescue with a cool, 'Melanie had enough on her hands entertaining our guests, and since when have you bothered with protocol?' he demanded. 'You usually just pop over there.'
Celia's eyes danced wickedly. 'Well, Melanie thought I ought to give dear old Leonora a few days' rest first,' she said, peeping at Melanie under her dark lashes.
Melanie could have strangled Celia, and felt the flush staining her cheeks. 'I didn't put it quite like that,' she said indignantly, 'it was only '
Celia broke in with. 'You know what, Dad? Melanie somehow got the impression that Leonora
was in her dotage! And she ought to have known better, because I told her that in some ways she was like her.'
Julian frowned at this. `I'm afraid I fail to see the connection,' he said, in a voice that spoke of his disapproval of Celia's levity on the subject.
Celia stared at her father, not quite sure how to take this hint of a rebuke from him. 'Well, I only meant ' She gave up and shrugged, then gave her attention to her coffee cup. 'Well, I still think they're alike,' she ended defiantly.
Julian's wry smile at his daughter's bright bent head confirmed Melanie's thoughts on the matter. Of course, she wasn't anything like that lovely creature next door. It was no small wonder that Julian had been put out by the attempted comparison. They were about as alike as chalk and cheese, she thought ruefully.
'You might sound her out on taking you with her on that trip to Venice she's planning. For pleasure this time, I'm told, and not on business,' he said to Celia.
Celia's eyes widened as she stared at her father. 'Truly?' she asked in a hushed voice.
Julian gave her a mock look of censure. 'As it's not my habit to joke about such things, yes, really.'
Turning to Melanie, Celia said, 'Oh, Melanie, it will be wonderful! Leonora is sure to say yes, you know.'
Melanie's eyes went to Julian, and there was a small silence before Julian said quietly, 'Not Melanie.'
Celia blinked in astonishment at this quiet but firm statement. 'But ' she began, then caught her father's eye and subsided. She knew defeat when she met it.
Melanie was grateful that the meal was over when this rather embarrassing interlude happened, and she
had not had to sit through it with the certain knowledge that Julian had at last made up his mind to release her from the contract.
What she couldn't understand was why she should feel so completely devastated. This was what she had hoped for, wasn't it? Now she could get on with her life, although doing what, she had no idea. She quickly thrust this thought aside. Time enough to think of that in the lonely days ahead, she told herself as she made her way to the old nursery for the morning's lesson, acknowledging Celia's, 'Won't be long!' call, as she disappeared in the direction of her father's study.
Melanie could guess what Celia was up to. She was going to make an attempt to get her father to change his mind about Melanie going on the trip to Venice with her, but she would be wasting her time, Melanie thought dully.
She sighed deeply as she arranged the books for the lesson. Celia ought to have been put into the picture earlier, she thought. As it was, she had no idea that Melanie would be gone by the time she arrived back from Venice.
It was not Melanie's place to tell her, either. Perhaps her father would? Perhaps he was telling her right now? Melanie wondered, and coward-like, certainly hoped he wouldn't, for it would be a very subdued Celia who would return to the schoolroom.
She shrugged. Celia was young. She had the resilience of youth on her side. Give her a few weeks with Leonora back, who, in all probability, would become her stepmother as soon as the annulment was through, and she would soon forget her.
When Celia did arrive for the lesson, she was, happily for Melanie, not a bit subdued, but somehow elated, and this puzzled Melanie. It was plain that
whatever excuse her father had given for Melanie's exclusion from the trip had completely satisfied her.
All through the lesson that morning, Melanie's mind wrestled with this enigma. Had Julian told his daughter the truth? Had he put the plain and simple fact to her that Melanie was unhappy and never would be happy in an environment that was alien to her?
She almost nodded. This could be the only answer. Celia, for all her youth, was a sensible girl. Told it like that—that Melanie would be happier if released from her obligation—she would heartily endorse her father's action.
Julian was not present at lunch, and Celia told Melanie that he had gone up to town for the afternoon, and wouldn't be back until the evening. Although Melanie was grateful for a little relief from his presence, she was certain that he would be seeking her out that evening to discuss the terms of the annulment.
After lunch, Celia collected her cardigan and called out to Melanie that she was off to Leonora's, and a slightly surprised Melanie advised her to take a raincoat as it looked as if it might pour down at any moment, judging from the darkening sky.
Watching her slim figure disappear around the side of the house, Melanie wanted to weep. Only a day or so ago, Celia had been assuring Melanie that she would get on with Leonora, and how certain she was that they would become friends. If she had been in any doubt of Julian's intentions, this would have settled them for once and for all. It was as if she had never existed! Life would go on at Oaklands, with the arrival and departure of Miss Greensmith treated as that of another member of staff who had given in her notice.