Wedding Fever

Her diamond solitaire flashed in the sun. Aware that his eyes followed it thoughtfully, she asked again, ‘What are you doing here?’

His healthy white teeth gleamed in a smile. A smile that, like his words, held a subtle threat ‘If the mountain won’t come to Mahomet...’

Just for an instant both her heart and breathing seemed to stop. She took a long, shuddering breath and asked the first thing that came into her head. ‘Did Dad know you were coming?’

‘Yes, he knew. I gather he didn’t tell you?’

Her green eyes flashed. ‘You probably asked him not to!’

Neither confirming nor denying the charge, Nick said, ‘I thought it was high time we had a talk.’

Feeling as though a silken noose was tightening around her throat, she informed him, ‘There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going to be married in a month.’ She spoke the words as though they were a talisman with the power to keep danger at bay.

‘Really?’ he drawled.

‘Yes, really.’ She strove to sound serene and certain, but all at once she hardly believed it herself. To add substance to the declaration, and aware that her father and Nick corresponded regularly, she added, ‘Surely Dad must have mentioned it?’ And then she knew that of course he had. That was why Nick was here!

His smile oblique, Nick agreed, ‘Oh, yes, he mentioned it...‘ But he wasn’t very happy about it. The words were as clear as if they’d been spoken aloud. Eyes glinting, Nick went on, ‘However, I gather he doesn’t think too much of your intended.’

It was the truth and she couldn’t deny it. Angry with both of them, she said sharply, ‘What he thinks of Kevin is nothing to do with you.’

‘Oh. I don’t know... Apart from anything else we’re family. Kissing cousins, you might say.’

When Raine failed to rise to the bait, stooping to stroke Calib, who, purring like a young traction engine, was winding sinuously around Nick’s ankles, he remarked reflectively, ‘Though, apart from just now, it’s almost a year since you last kissed me.’

Swallowing hard, feeling the past she’d struggled so hard to leave behind closing in on her, Raine denied it. ‘I didn’t kiss you just now.’

Straightening to his full height of well over six feet, towering over her five feet six inches, he said, ‘Strange. That’s what it felt like.’

‘I thought it was Kevin.’

‘Well, if he’s able to make you respond so passionately, perhaps your father’s wrong about him being prudish.’

Though she knew he was trying to provoke her, she couldn’t stop herself saying, ‘Kevin’s not prudish. He just isn’t—’ Breaking off, she continued raggedly, ‘I much prefer romance to...’

‘Passion?’ Nick suggested when she faltered. Dark blue eyes holding an expression that could have been contempt, he continued derisively, ‘But of course romance is so much less disturbing than passion—less of a risk. Holding hands, a stroll in the moonlight, a chaste kiss—that doesn’t demand any real commitment, any great depth of feeling. Everything’s calm and orderly and safe.’

He was a fine one to talk about commitment, about depth of feeling. Desperately she fought back. ‘If that’s how I want things to be it still has nothing to do with you.’

‘Why do you want things to be that way?’

Because surrendering to passion had almost destroyed her, and she had no intention of ever letting it happen again.

When, staring blindly at a magnificent display of orange dahlias, she failed to answer Nick’s question, he took her shoulders and made her look at him. ‘Why, Raine? Why do you want things to be calm and orderly and safe? It doesn’t seem to be much of a recipe for marriage. It’s like trying to sail a three-masted schooner on a pond rather than taking it out to sea.’

She made an attempt to pull herself away and felt a rush of relief when he let her go. ‘Some people get seasick.’

‘Kevin, for instance?’

‘It suits us both to have a calm, friendly—’

‘Friendly! Ye gods ... a platonic marriage.’

On the defensive, she cried, ‘It won’t be platonic. It just won’t be...’

‘Stimulating? Passionate?’

She sought for a word. ‘Stormy. Neither of us care for an excessive display of emotion.’ Realising just how priggish that had sounded, she flushed and dipped her head, so that the long black hair fell forward, half curtaining her face.

Nick laughed harshly. ‘Little Lord Fauntleroy can’t have any good red blood in his veins if he’s willing to settle for a tepid relationship like that It seems as if your father was right when he—’

‘Dad’s not right. For once in his life he’s prejudiced and—’

‘Save your breath,’ Nick broke in softly. ‘It looks as if I’m going to have the opportunity to judge for myself.’

Kevin was advancing towards them over the grass, and for the first time she noticed that his shoulders were somewhat rounded and that he carried himself with a slight stoop.

Despite the warmth of the day, and the fact that it was a Saturday, he was conservatively dressed in a suit and tie.

Against Nick’s smart but cool attire of casual cotton trousers and dark blue open-necked shirt, he looked overheated and overdressed. But, Raine was pleased to note, he was by far the most conventionally handsome of the two.

Determined to prove something, she exclaimed brightly, ‘Darling...’ Going to him, she flung her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to press her lips to his.

Kevin didn’t actually say, Steady on, old thing, but he looked so uncomfortable that Nick had to turn his choke of laughter into a polite cough.

Raine glared at him.

Holding out a civil hand to the newcomer, he said blandly, ‘I’m Dominic Marlowe—Raine’s cousin.’

‘Kevin Somersby. How do you do?’ Pale eyes distinctly curious, Kevin shook the proffered hand, his grip moist but studiously firm.

Raine picked up her woolly and brushed it free of grass, then, slipping her hand through her fiancé’s arm, asked, ‘Shall we go up to the house?’

As though the suggestion had included him, Nick joined them, strolling along, sandwiching Raine between himself and Kevin, with a calm assurance that rattled her afresh.

Glancing from the slender black-haired girl by his side to the blond giant beyond her, Kevin remarked in his clear voice, with its upper-crust accent, ‘I fail to see any family resemblance—though you mentioned you were cousins?’

‘But not blood relatives,’ Nick said shortly.

‘Yet you have the same name?’

‘My mother had been widowed and I was just a year old when she married Harry Marlowe. He adopted me.’

‘I see.’ Kevin nodded, before asking a shade condescendingly, ‘What line of business are you in, Mr Marlowe?’

‘The family call me Nick.’

‘Then Nick it is.’ The words were just a fraction too hearty.

With a thin smile, Nick went on, ‘I take over small, near-bankrupt companies and make them into large, successful ones.’

Clearly disconcerted, Kevin adjusted his glasses and said awkwardly, ‘That must be very satisfying.’

‘It is, believe me.’

For no earthly reason, Raine shivered.

Calib had, as usual, made himself scarce when Kevin appeared. Now, to her annoyance, he emerged from a clump of purple Michaelmas daisies and attached himself to Nick with almost dog-like devotion.

Noticing the overt display of affection, Kevin collected himself and commented, ‘The cat appears to know you very well.’ When Nick said nothing, he continued a shade pompously, ‘It seems a little strange that we’ve never run across each other before... In fact, I don’t recall Lorraine ever mentioning you.’

‘She’s a funny girl,’ Nick observed with a smiling, intimate sidelong glance at his cousin. ‘Until today she’d never mentioned you to me.’

Kevin seemed unsure what to make of that. There was a rather awkward pause, during which Raine silently cursed Nick, before, either prompted by genuine interest or good manners, Kevin resumed the conversation again to ask, ‘I take it you don’t live in this part of the world... er...Nick?’

‘I live in the States—in Boston, Massachusetts.’

‘Ah... I wondered about the accent. I understand many Americans consider a Boston accent refined...’

When Nick failed to react to that piece of snobbery, Kevin went on, ‘Are you one of the Boston Brahmins, by any chance?’

‘Hardly,’ Nick replied coolly. ‘Though my mother’s ancestors came over on the Mayflower.’

‘What on earth is a Boston Brahmin?’ Raine asked.

It was Nick who answered. ‘It’s a name coined by Oliver Wendell Holmes back in the nineteenth century to describe the “aristocracy”—wealthy merchants of the city who were well-read, well-travelled and very conservative. They were usually descendants of the early Puritan settlers.’

As they left the walled garden and began to walk up the gentle slope of green lawns that led to the house, with its rosy brick herringbone-patterned walls and overhanging eaves, Kevin smoothed back his already smooth hair and pursued the matter. ‘So, have you two known each other all your lives?’

Nick shook his head. ‘We didn’t get to know each other until... when would it be, Raine?’

She ground her teeth. ‘I don’t remember exactly.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you do.’ He caught and held her glance. The gleam in his dark blue eyes brought a quick flush of betraying colour to her cheeks.

‘About a year ago, I suppose.’ Her tone was as offhand as she could make it.

‘It’s rather a romantic story,’ Nick went on conversationally. ‘Wouldn’t you say so, honey?’ Then, turning to the other man, he went on, ‘You see, when—’

Afraid of that “honey”, and of what he might be about to reveal, Raine interrupted jerkily, ‘I’m sure Kevin won’t want to be bored by all the family history.’

‘Not at all,’ Kevin said politely. Then to Nick, ‘Do go on.’

Cocking an eyebrow at Raine, Nick suggested, ‘Perhaps you’d like to carry on?’

Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, she chose the latter, and, estimating the distance to the house, began at the part she didn’t mind telling.

‘Nick’s—’ she spoke the hated name with difficulty ‘—adoptive father and mine were twins. More than thirty years ago they quarrelled and lost touch. Then last autumn, quite unexpectedly, we heard from Uncle Harry. He had just been diagnosed as suffering from a terminal illness and he wanted to make up the quarrel while he could. Dad and I went over to Boston.’

Leading the way over the old crazy-paving into the house, Raine added, as though it didn’t matter, ‘And that’s when Nick and I met for the first time.’

Crossing the hall, she opened the door into the long, wood-panelled, black-beamed lounge. A comfortably faded chintz-covered suite and some lovingly cared for antiques stood on the polished oak floorboards. Bowls of autumn flowers glowed in dark corners, and a huge jar of bronze chrysanthemums filled the stone fireplace.

Ralph glanced up from the detective story he was reading. In the past he’d always been too much of a workaholic to relax, but whiplash injuries sustained in a minor road accident that year had left him with pains in his back and chest, and he’d been warned to take it easy.

For once in his life, Raine was pleased to see, he seemed to be obeying his doctor’s orders.

He took off his glasses, put down his book and smiled at the little group, revealing a gap between his two front teeth that gave him an endearingly boyish look.

He addressed his daughter. ‘Martha has just been in to ask how many there’ll be for dinner tonight.’ His enquiring glance at Kevin, though civil, lacked warmth. ’So if you’d care to tell her?’

Her voice cool and composed now, Raine asked, ‘Is Nick staying?’

Ralph’s hazel eyes showed his annoyance. ‘Of course he’s staying.’

‘Then there’ll be just the two of you.’ She moved closer to her fiancé. ‘We have other plans for the evening—haven’t we, darling?’

Her father frowned. ‘Other plans?’

‘When I’ve got changed we’re going in to Lopsley. Kevin’s taking me to Phasianidae.’

‘What the deuce is that?’ her father demanded irritably.

‘A new restaurant that’s just opened in Cheyne Walk.’

Ralph glanced helplessly at his nephew.

‘So you’ll have to forgive us for not joining you.’ Raine gave Nick a disdainful little smile. ‘I’m sure you and Dad can find plenty to talk about.’

‘I’m sure we can,’ he agreed smoothly. ‘But it’s you I need to talk to.’

Her face froze into a stiff mask. ‘Anything you want to say to me will presumably keep until tomorrow.’

‘Unfortunately it won’t.’ Turning, Nick clapped a hand on Kevin’s shoulder. ‘We’ve come up against something of a family problem that needs sorting out immediately. I know you’ll understand, and I’m quite sure that in the circumstances you wouldn’t want to...’ He allowed the words to tail off.

‘No...no, of course not.’ Reacting to the hint of cool authority that lay beneath the friendly tone, Kevin was already backing away.

Alarm made Raine dig her toes in. ‘I really don’t see what’s so urgent that it can’t wait until the morning.’

Catching Nick’s peremptory glance, Kevin said hastily, ‘Don’t worry, old thing. We can always go some other time. I’ll cut along now and come over early tomorrow, if that’s all right by you?’

Desperate to keep her fiancé as a buffer between herself and Nick, Raine appealed to her father. ‘But Kevin will soon be part of the family. Surely he can stay?’

It was Nick who answered. ‘He can, but...’ You won’t really want him to, the dark blue eyes warned her.

Brought up short, she hesitated.

As though he owned the place, Nick moved to shepherd Kevin out, adding in a jocular tone, ‘Perhaps it’s better not to know about the family skeletons until after you’re married. ’

In the doorway he glanced back, and Raine saw an odd look pass between him and Ralph before the latch clicked to behind him.

Fuming helplessly, a flush of colour lying along the wide cheekbones inherited from her mother, she turned to Ralph and asked in a choked voice, ‘What’s he doing here?’

‘I sent for him.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?’

‘Because last time I told you he was coming you bolted.’

‘I didn’t want to see him,’ she said defensively.

‘Damn it, girl,’ Ralph exploded, ‘have you any idea how furious you made him? He hung around here for over a week—a week he really needed to be in Boston.

‘You made him look a complete fool, and you ought to know he’s not a man to tolerate that sort of treatment. Why hadn’t you the decency to stay and listen to him?’

‘I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. I stil don’t.’

Almost wearily, Ralph said, ‘Well, you can’t keep or avoiding him. He’s here now, and you’ll have to face him.

CHAPTER THREE

RAINE shook her head, silently repudiating that statement. As far as she was concerned she didn’t have to do anything of the kind. It had been her fixed intention never to see him again.

In spite of her father’s pleas, and to her everlasting shame, she had even chickened out of going to her uncle’s funeral because he’d be there.

It would be a relief when she was safely married, she thought fervently, while her stomach remained tied in a knot of tension. Though it would mean leaving her father and the home she loved, at least she wouldn’t have to risk coming face to face with Nick out of the blue like this.

But it wasn’t really out of the blue. Her father had asked him to come. Suddenly, without knowing why, she was scared stiff. ‘What made you send for him?’

Looking uneasy, anything but comfortable, Ralph said, ‘The doctor advises that I don’t go back to the office for at least three months.’ Involuntarily, his hand had gone up to touch his chest.

‘Your heart...?’ she whispered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my heart. I’m as fit as a fiddle,’ he said testily. ‘But I...well, I’m not getting any younger, and I...’

‘Oh, Dad...’ She went down on her knees by his chair.

‘Don’t be a fool, girl.’ He patted her hand. ‘Now, get up, and believe me when I tell you that I’m not ill. I’d just like to take it easy for a while. That’s where Nick comes in...’

‘How do you mean?’ But already a cold chill was raising the short hairs on the back of her neck and running down her spine.

‘I mean he’s going to take the reins temporarily.’

‘But couldn’t I do that?’ she protested, rising to her feet.

Shaking his head, Ralph reminded her, ‘You’re getting married soon, and if Kevin doesn’t want you to work...’

‘Well, can’t David Ferris cope? He’s been with you for years and he’s absolutely trustworthy...’

‘David’s got enough to do,’ her father said shortly. ‘And I want someone up front who isn’t soft—someone with initiative and drive.’

‘But how can Nick look after your business affairs without neglecting his own?’

Ralph answered in a roundabout way. ‘He told me once that, having watched his father work himself into an early grave, the most important thing he’d learned was how to delegate.

‘Under Finn Anderson, his right-hand man, he’s built up an efficient team who are quite capable of carrying on in his absence.

‘Added to that, his business interests are varied and worldwide—so he can keep an eye on everything just as well from England as he can from the States.

‘I’m well aware that things haven’t gone right between you...’ he said gruffly.

And that had to be the understatement of the century, thought Raine.

‘But he’s doing us an enormous favour. So try to be pleasant to him,’ Ralph finished firmly.

Raine gritted her teeth. When her father spoke to her in that tone of mild reproach it made her feel as though she were a child again, instead of a woman of twenty-four.

‘I know you were intending to take next month off to organise the wedding,’ Ralph went on, ‘but if you could spare a day or two to go into the office with him...?’

‘No! I . . .’ Fighting down blind panic at the thought of having to come into close contact with Nick on a daily basis, she managed more moderately, ’I’m sorry, Dad, but I won’t have time.’

Hardening her heart against her father’s disappointed face, she went on hurriedly, ‘In fact, I won’t be here. Because the wedding reception is being held in Mayfair, Lady Somersby has suggested that I stay with her in Manton Square until the final seating plan and all the last-minute details have been decided on...’

For the past two weeks Raine had been politely resisting the suggestion, but now it seemed the lesser of two evils.

‘So when Kevin comes tomorrow, I intend to go back to town with him.’

‘You’re running away again,’ Ralph accused her, a kind of anxious irritation in his hazel eyes.

‘I’m doing nothing of the kind,’ she denied. ‘I—I need to be on the spot to help complete the arrangements and cope with any possible hitches...’

Some slight sound made them both look up.

Nick was standing there, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. Judging by his derisive expression, he’d overheard enough to put him in the picture.

When he spoke, his manner was as cool and hard as ice-clad marble. ‘Before you make any further arrangement, we really should have that talk.’

Managing to sound distant and haughty, Raine informed him,—‘I’ve just talked to Dad. It’s kind of you to help him out, and I’m grateful, but...’

Nick’s handsome eyes glinted as he warned, ‘Don’t patronise me, Raine.’

Flushing a little, despite herself, she ploughed on, ‘But it doesn’t involve me, and—’

‘Don’t be too sure about that. Though your father’s put you partly in the picture, you’ll understand much better when you’ve heard what I have to say.’

The eyes of the two men met.

‘If you’ll excuse me.’ Ralph got to his feet. ‘I’d better let Martha know how many there are for dinner, or we won’t be getting any.’

With calm effrontery, Nick said, ‘I was intending to take Raine out for a meal, if that’s all right with you?’

‘Fine by me,’ Ralph agreed genially.

For a moment she was speechless, then, as the door closed behind her father’s tall, spare figure, she turned on Nick furiously. ‘I wouldn’t have dinner with you if you were the last man on earth.’

‘Not a very original remark,’ he taunted.

‘Original or not, I mean it. I don’t know how you’ve got the nerve to suggest such a thing after you’ve completely ruined the evening...’

‘The evening’s not over yet,’ he pointed out, a strange note in his voice. Then, watching her involuntary shiver, he added in a bored tone, ‘Now, do go and get ready, there’s a good girl.’

‘This late on a Saturday night you won’t get in anywhere without a reservation.’ She made no attempt to hide the triumph. ‘We’ll end up eating in the local snack-bar.’

He merely smiled. ‘I’ve already booked a table for two at the Priest House.’

The Priest House, a beautiful old building dating from the fifteen-hundreds, was the most expensive and exclusive restaurant in the neighbourhood.

‘How dare you do such a thing without even asking me?’ she burst out. Then, realising that by losing her temper she was playing into his hands, she drew a deep breath and went on more calmly, ‘I’m afraid you’ll be eating alone. I’d rather starve than accept your invitation.’

Nick’s face hardened. ‘My dear Raine, you don’t seem to understand... It isn’t an invitation. It’s an order.’

Furiously, she demanded, ‘What makes you think you can give me orders?’

With a smile that showed the gleam of his white teeth but failed to reach his eyes, a smile that was a danger signal, he said with terrifying confidence, ‘Because I hold the whip hand.’

She wanted to deny his assertion, to protest that he was joking, or mistaken, or mad, but, knowing the man, she was suddenly convinced that he was none of those things. That he somehow did hold the whip hand.

Feeling as though she’d been punched in the solar plexus, Raine stared up at him mutely, her clear green eyes startlingly beautiful.

‘My, what big eyes you’ve got,’ he murmured mockingly.

Finding her voice, she said through stiff lips, ‘If you think I’m going to take orders from you just because you’re helping Dad out...’

But it didn’t need his silence to convince her that his autocratic statement was based on a great deal more than that. In exasperation, she cried, ‘Well, if it isn’t that, what is it?’

‘I’ll tell you after we’ve eaten. Now, suppose you go and get changed?’ Though phrased as a suggestion it was undoubtedly an order. And he wanted her to know it.

As she turned blindly away he cautioned, ‘Oh, and Raine, until you know exactly how things stand, it wouldn’t be wise to worry your father.’

On legs that shook a little, she hurried up the dark-oak crimson-carpeted stairs to the pleasant, lattice-windowed room she’d had since childhood.

“It wouldn’t be wise to worry your father...” While she showered the quiet warning kept ricocheting around her mind, making her wonder if Nick knew something her father was keeping from her.

Well, it was no use getting worked up about it, Raine told herself firmly, but at the first opportunity she’d have a word with Dr Broadbent.

Hands unsteady, she pulled on a silky lilac dress with a matching jacket and, to counteract Nick’s intimidating height, high-heeled sandals.

Too het up to bother with make-up, she pulled a comb through her smooth, glossy, below shoulder-length hair and picked up her bag; she was ready.

Quick as she’d been, Nick was waiting for her in the hall. He’d changed into a well-cut, lightweight suit and a pearl-grey tie, and his thick blond mane was parted on the left and neatly brushed.

Standing arrogantly at ease, head tilted a little, one hand thrust into his trouser pocket, he watched her come down the stairs, long-legged and elegant, her slender body moving gracefully.