Charade in Winter Page 15

  ‘Where the devil have you been?’ he demanded, and Alix noticed he addressed his remarks to her and not to his aunt. ‘It’s after a quarter to five. Couldn’t you have left whatever it was you had to buy until another day?’

  ‘It was my fault, Oliver,’ put in Lady Morgan soothingly. ‘I insisted on having a cup of tea in Fenwicks, and by the time we were served—’

  ‘Let’s get in the car, shall we?’ suggested Oliver abruptly, and Alix surprised a rather anxious expression on Melissa’s face as they walked into the building. She had said nothing since they appeared, and Alix guessed that she had borne the brunt of her father’s anger. Poor Melissa!

  No, lucky Melissa! a small voice inside her jeered cruelly. She had been given the right to live with Oliver for as long as she liked! He had let nothing stand in the way of that.

  The Mercedes was chilled after standing for several hours in the stone-built surrounds of the multi-storey car-park. Even so, it was much warmer than being outside, and Alix hoped the isolation of the journey back to the Hall would cushion her against what would come after. She still intended telling Oliver her real identity, and then it would be up to him whether she left forthwith or waited until Christmas as his aunt had decreed. Either way, she could not afford to be weak. No matter that her worst suspicions had not made any difference to her feelings for him; Melissa had had a raw deal until now. Alix couldn’t deprive her of the future that was rightly hers, even supposing Oliver should ask her to, which seemed very unlikely after he learned the truth about her deception. She shivered as she contemplated his reaction to her confession. Facing Willie seemed a mild fate by comparison, and she spared little thought for what she would do after her dismissal from the magazine. Sufficient unto the day, she quoted silently to herself with despairing aptness.

  The fog had cleared and Oliver made excellent time on the journey home. The Mercedes simply ate up the miles, and Alix guessed he was expunging some of his own frustration in an exhilarating turn of speed. Even Melissa lost her anxious expression and, turning in her seat, began to tell her grandmother all the exciting things she had seen at the Toy Fair. And she really was her granddaughter, Alix thought emotionally.

  ‘There were dolls that could suck a feeding bottle, just like a real baby!’ Melissa declared, wide-eyed. ‘And then…’ She glanced hopefully at her father. ‘And then… they wet their nappies!’ She giggled. ‘Imagine that!’

  Oliver made no comment, however, and it was left to Alix and Lady Morgan to show interest in what the child was saying. The little girl was clearly disappointed at her father’s reaction, but she had learned not to expect more than he was prepared to give her.

  In no time at all it seemed they were stopping before the tall iron gates of Darkwater Hall, and Alix wondered if the journey had seemed so short because she was dreading what must come after. Giles came out to open the gates for them, but when Oliver would have driven straight past, he put up his hand to halt him.

  ‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said, hurrying to the window that Oliver impatiently opened, ‘but there’s visitors at the Hall.’

  ‘Visitors!’ Alix could almost physically feel Oliver’s freezing anger. ‘I thought I left orders that no one, but no one—’

  ‘I know, sir, I know.’ Giles was clearly distressed. ‘But—well, it’s the young lady’s husband, sir, and he insisted on being admitted.’

  Alix’s mouth opened. Her husband! But she had no husband, she wanted to cry hysterically. In God’s name, what was going on?

  Oliver looked round at her, and even in the paltry light cast by Giles’ torch she could see the anger glittering in his eyes. ‘Did you invite your husband here?’ he demanded.

  Alix shook her head helplessly. She couldn’t tell him here, not like this, not with Lady Morgan and Melissa looking on, avid with curiosity. ‘I—I don’t know anything about it,’ she exclaimed. That, at least, was the truth!

  Oliver swung round to face Giles again. ‘Very well,’ he said abruptly, winding up his window, and leaving the anxious gatekeeper staring after them, he sent the Mercedes’ wheels spinning as he depressed the accelerator.

  Alix was first out of the car when it stopped before the steps that led into the Hall. She looked about her frantically, searching for another vehicle, but whoever had assumed her husband’s identity must have arrived on foot, as she herself had done. Oliver got out and opened the door for his aunt while Melissa helped Alix gather her parcels. They were all aware of the tenseness in the atmosphere around them and Alix thought how easily tempers could erupt.

  Seth opened the door as they were unloading the boot, and he came down the steps to help carry the bags. Lady Morgan took his arm to mount the steps and Melissa ran ahead, leaving Oliver and Alix alone for a moment.

  Alix looked anxiously up at the lighted doorway, and then with a feeling of desperation, she said: ‘Oliver, there’s so much I want to explain.’

  His rejection was almost tangible. ‘Isn’t it a little late for that?’ he inquired grimly, snapping shut the boot.

  Alix sighed. ‘I hope not.’

  Oliver straightened, his expression bleak. ‘Why aren’t you hurrying in to greet your husband?’ he demanded. ‘Whatever you say, he must care about you to come all this way to find you.’

  Alix caught his arm despairingly. ‘Oliver—oh, Oliver, whoever that man is in there, he’s not my husband!’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t have a husband.’

  ‘What?’

  Oliver was still staring at her unbelievingly when a shadow fell across them as a man came to stand in the shaft of light issuing from the open doorway. Alix turned her head instantly, aware of vaguely hostile eyes upon them, and then she said, ‘Willie!’ in a horror-stricken voice.

  ‘Hello, Alix.’ Willie came down two steps, and then looked disbelievingly over his shoulder. When he turned again, his expression was almost as accusing as Oliver’s.

  ‘What a deceitful girl you are!’

  Alix stared into his unfriendly blue eyes. Why had she never noticed how closely set they were, or how pouched the skin beneath them? Willie was a big man, but his body was over-indulged and out of condition, and beside Oliver’s lean frame his thickening waistline bulged unbecomingly. She knew he was younger than Oliver, only thirty-five or thirty-six, but the demands of his profession had taken their toll in more ways than one.

  Now Alix knew it was up to her to say something, and mounting the steps to reach him, she said sharply: ‘What are you doing here, Willie?’

  Willie looked beyond her to the man who was mounting the steps behind her. Then he assumed an ingratiating expression. ‘Now is that any way to treat your husband?’ he chided.

  Alix clenched her fists. ‘You don’t have to go on with that, Willie!’ she told him coldly. ‘Oliver knows you’re not my husband—I’ve just told him.’

  Willie’s expression changed. ‘Oh, have you? That’s very interesting. And does he know why you’re here?’

  Alix’s cheeks flamed. ‘Not yet.’

  Oliver reached them. The words that had passed between them had carried easily to his ears, and now he said, ‘I suggest we all go inside,’ and waited for them to precede him into the building.

  Another surprise awaited Alix in the hall. Linsey Morris was hovering anxiously by the door leading into the drawing room, her agitation dissipating somewhat when she saw Alix and Willie. Then Oliver followed them inside, closing the door behind them, and her brown eyes widened with evident anticipation. Alix had never liked the other girl. She was everything that Alix was not—small, slender as a reed, with a cap of chestnut hair that clung silkily to her well-shaped head. But Alix had never disliked her more than at the moment her greedy little eyes alighted on the man Alix knew she herself loved…

  Willie seemed to recover his composure once he had Linsey to support him, and holding out his hand to Oliver, he said: ‘As Alix seems reluctant to make introductions, sir, I’ll introduce myself. My name’s William Faulkner, and t
his is my assistant, Linsey—’

  ‘I know who you are, Mr Faulkner,’ Oliver interrupted him abruptly, walking across to the library. ‘Will you come in here, please? Then we can continue our conversation without interruption.’

  Willie glanced sharply at Alix, and then he and Linsey hurried after their host. Alix herself hung back. She didn’t want to be a part of their conversation. She didn’t want to hear Willie explaining why he had sent her here, or to see Oliver’s undoubted contempt. That Willie should have presumed on her letter to gain entry to Darkwater Hall was bad enough, but that Oliver should recognise him and still be prepared to listen to what he had to say was worse, somehow. If only she could have prepared him in some way, if only she had told him the truth last night!

  ‘Alix!’ Oliver’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she lifted her head to look at him.

  He was standing in the doorway to the library, and she decided she could not blame Linsey for being attracted to him. She had been, after all, but it was a futile exercise for either of them.

  Now she looked down at her parcels, and said: ‘Do you mind if I dispose of these?’

  Oliver looked over his shoulder into the library where his two uninvited guests were warming themselves before the fire. Then he strode quickly across the hall to where Alix was standing, and she fell back a step in alarm, half afraid he was going to strike her. But his voice was curiously rough, as he said impatiently: ‘You look frozen! And shocked out of your mind!’

  Alix licked her dry lips. ‘Wouldn’t you be?’ she challenged tremulously.

  Oliver stared at her for a long minute, and then he raked long fingers through his hair. ‘I ought to break every bone in your body!’ he muttered harshly.

  Alix shook her head. ‘I—I wanted to tell you,’ she protested. ‘But—’

  ‘But you didn’t!’ he snapped shortly. ‘Why not? Was it safer to pretend?’

  ‘Safer?’ Alix shook her head. ‘Well, I—I suppose so.’

  ‘What will you do now?’

  Alix tried to think coherently. ‘I—well, go back to London, I suppose.’

  ‘I see.’ Oliver’s nostrils flared. ‘And will you write your—story—for this magazine?’

  ‘No!’ Alix’s lips trembled. ‘That—that’s why Willie’s here now. He thinks I’ve let him down.’

  Oliver muttered an oath and turned away. ‘Go to your room,’ he said shortly, ‘I’ll deal with this. I’ll speak to you later.’

  Alix wanted to protest, but she had no desire to enter into arguments with Willie in front of Oliver, culminating as she was sure they would in her dismissal. The last thing she wanted was Oliver’s pity, or the ignominy of Linsey’s triumph. She wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide, but Darkwater Hall possessed no hiding places.

  As she was going upstairs Melissa appeared, after the library door had closed uncompromisingly behind her father. She came to stand looking anxiously up at her, and when Alix went on her way, she came after her.

  ‘What is it?’ she cried. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you crying?’

  ‘I’m not crying!’ exclaimed Alix, rubbing determinedly at her cheeks. ‘I—your father and I had a little disagreement, that’s all.’

  Melissa looked unconvinced, and when Alix reached her bedroom the little girl was just behind her. ‘Can I come in?’ she asked, and without waiting for permission, opened the door.

  Alix dropped her parcels on to a chair and turned to survey her small visitor. ‘Where’s your grandmother?’ she asked.

  ‘She’s rung for tea in the drawing room,’ explained Melissa, frowningly scuffing at the carpet with her toe. ‘She told me to keep out of the way.’

  Alix couldn’t prevent a half smile. ‘But you didn’t,’ she pointed out.

  ‘No.’ Melissa hunched her shoulders. ‘Why was Daddy so angry? Are you going back to London with your—husband?’

  Alix sighed. ‘He’s not my husband, Melissa,’ she said, unable to dissemble any longer. ‘I’m not married.’

  ‘You’re not?’ Melissa’s eyes were wide. ‘But why did you say you were?’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ said Alix, trying to be businesslike. ‘Now, what did I do with my handbag?’

  Melissa retrieved the bag in silence and handed it to her. Then she said thoughtfully, ‘So you won’t be leaving?’

  Alix felt an hysterical laugh rising inside her. ‘I think I probably shall,’ she said tautly.

  ‘But why?’ Melissa stared at her. ‘Has Daddy asked you to go? Was that why you were crying?’

  ‘Melissa, I wasn’t crying!’ Alix could feel her nerves stretching ominously. ‘But—well, I think your father would agree that in the circumstances it’s best if I do go.’

  ‘What circstan—circust—what do you mean?’

  Alix pressed her lips together. ‘Oh, Melissa! I’ve—I played a trick on your father. I’m not really a governess, or a librarian. I—I work for a magazine.’

  ‘You mean—you write stories? Things like that?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Alix agreed.

  ‘But you can teach. You’ve been teaching me!’

  ‘I know, darling, but anyone with a reasonable education could do that. Teaching’s not hard. Not if you have patience.’

  Melissa sighed, obviously trying to absorb what Alix was saying. Then she said surprisingly: ‘But I don’t want you to go. I don’t want anyone else to teach me. I want you.’

  Alix shook her head. ‘Melissa! Good heavens, at the beginning of the week you resented me being here!’

  ‘That was before—’ Melissa broke off abruptly. ‘I don’t believe Daddy wants you to go.’

  Alix let that go. ‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’

  The little girl regarded her anxiously. ‘If Daddy asks you to stay, you will, though, won’t you?’

  How could she answer that? Alix could not find words to make any definite statement. Besides, even if Oliver was prepared to let her stay, she should leave. She didn’t think she could bear to live in close proximity with him without revealing her feelings, and although she loved him she would not become his mistress. She would never take the risk of bringing another unwanted child into the world, and anything else was out of the question.

  But now she said, ‘I think you’d better go and have tea with your grandmother, Melissa. We’ll talk about this later.’

  Melissa left with evident reluctance, and Alix was warmed a little to know that at least the child’s antagonism for her seemed to have disappeared. Perhaps that small experience of her father’s displeasure as they waited outside the car-park that afternoon had convinced her that it was best not to depend wholly on one person. Or perhaps she was afraid her father would employ another governess, one she liked even less than Alix.

  Either way, it had no real bearing on Alix’s situation. She quailed at the thought of the interview which was being conducted downstairs, and dreaded the moment when she would have to face Oliver again. Knowing Willie, he would doubtless capitalise on the fact that he had gained access to Darkwater Hall, and remembering his puzzled expression when he emerged from the Hall to greet them, she guessed he must have seen Melissa too, and been struck by her resemblance to the Morgans. He would probably misjudge the child’s parentage as she had done, and she felt a terrible sense of responsibility for the whole sorry affair.

  If only she could get away from the Hall. If only there was some means of escape without having to face Oliver again! What was there left for them to say to one another, after all? And even if he forgave her when he discovered she had not betrayed his secret, which was by no means certain, there was still the insoluble dilemma of Melissa’s inheritance. And could she really live the rest of her life with a man who she suspected of causing his wife’s death?

  Half-unthinkingly, she pulled her cases out of the cupboard and began packing them. Wild thoughts chased through her brain, thoughts of absconding with Oliver’s car, parked so casually outside, taking the chance t
hat Giles might not notice who was driving when he came out to open the gates. Or perhaps she could walk to the gates. Surely Giles couldn’t refuse to let her out if she insisted on leaving! And then she remembered the dogs, and her stomach sank. The idea of facing them alone and unaided in the dark was a terrifying prospect indeed.

  Then another thought occurred to her. No matter how Willie and Linsey had got to the Hall, someone would have to take them back to the railway station, or alternatively to catch the bus. She was sure Oliver would see that they were escorted from the premises, and as his car was there at the door…

  She paced anxiously about her bedroom. They would not be spending the night at the Hall, that much seemed certain. Oliver would never permit it. And in any case, they had no reason for staying. Once their interview with Oliver was over they would be leaving, and while Alix had no desire to accompany them, there might be a way she could do so unseen. The boot of the Mercedes was spacious, she had seen that when Oliver stowed Melissa’s wardrobe inside. It was certainly big enough for her to squeeze in and pull down the lid, just far enough for it to appear closed without actually being so. Then, while Oliver’s attention was diverted by Willie and his companion, she could slip out unobserved. Or at least she could slip out. If she was observed, Oliver was unlikely to cause a scene in some public place, particularly with Willie and Linsey looking on.

  The idea gathered momentum. It was more than an idea, it was a definite possibility, but one which she would have to decide upon immediately if she was to stand a chance of succeeding. Her cases presented the biggest problem. They were too big and bulky for her to bring downstairs without attracting anyone’s attention, so although she had packed them, they would have to be sent for. She could take her handbag with her, of course, and once she reached home she had other clothes to wear until Oliver was persuaded to send her belongings back.

  Trembling a little, Alix zipped on her boots again, picked up her handbag and gloves and opened her bedroom door. As she came down the stairs she could still hear the low rumble of voices from the library, and she breathed a sigh of relief that so far her plan was working.