Bride by Arrangement (6 page)

CHAPTER THREE

The next morning Eunice came for her in a spectacular long cream car, and within a matter of a quarter of an hour or so she had been whisked away from Trelas and was passing beneath a white archway into the courtyard of another house clinging to the edge of a cliff.

At the moment of Chloe’s arrival with Eunice, David was standing on the terrace that was rather like a platform poised in space, but he came quickly to greet her, and although his greeting was warm, his eyes were reproachful.

“Chloe, what is this?” he demanded.
“
All this talk about your marrying? You can’t be engaged as suddenly as this, and in any case I won’t have it!” His hands were warm and strong, and Chloe felt tempted to cling to them suddenly. They were the hands of a man she could trust—a man she had known since she was in her early teens—and although his station in life and hers had always seemed far apart, now his vivid blue eyes were telling her things as they gazed down into her green ones, and there was no doubt about it, he was intensely concerned.

“Chloe, that old woman Albertin is at the back of this, isn’t she? I always knew she was a schemer! And, in any case, you can’t marry a Frenchman!”

Chloe felt the nervous tension creeping back to her throat, making it noticeable when she swallowed, and the muscles tautened, and she knew that she dared not meet the eyes of either David or his sister—certainly not Eunice’s, for they were
the shrewdest eyes she had ever encountered in her life, and in spite of their beauty they had a disturbing hardness—while she discussed Pierre. He was a subject she was going to find it terribly difficult to discuss in any case, but now that she was being subjected to a close and persistent scrutiny, and direct questions were being put to her, she was desperately afraid that she would give away the truth.

They would find out for themselves eventually, of course, for such things as wills were published, and speculation and comment would be everybody’s right; but for the time being Pierre hoped to keep the truth back from those who might be genuinely interested, and he was visiting the solicitor that morning with the object of trying to pull wool over people’s eyes for a little while, at least.

“You forget that I’ve heard about Pierre—heard about constantly!—for months,” she said, looking anywhere but at her hosts. “Madame Albertin was so fond of him that he was her favourite subject, and it’s not really so surprising that—when he came
—
”

Chloe looked down into her drink, and David said sharply.

“She isn’t the Vicomtesse de Ramballe yet, and until I’ve had a good talk with Chloe I shall decline to believe that there’s even a remote possibility that she’s going to be,” he said.

Eunice looked at him a trifle pityingly, and then shrugged her shapely shoulders.

“Afraid you’ll have to get used to the idea, brother dear, whether or not you have your cosy talk with Chloe! The Vicomte is coming here to dinner tonight, and I’m sure he’ll do his best to convince you. His own mind seems to be very much made up, and Chloe and I are going shopping for the wedding immediately. By the way, Chloe,” looking at her through slightly slanting eyes, “I can let you have some cash, you know, if you want it. You won't want to feel too dependent on Pierre, will you, and borrow from him? Bad enough when you’re married and he has to provide you with every penny you want to spend! That’s why I think it’s such a good idea for a girl to have money of her own
...
”

She broke off, looking through the same thoughtful, narrowed blue eyes at her guest.

“But, you poor soul, you never have had very much, have you? I think Madame Albertin ought to have left
you
a little of her money, as well as Pierre. You served her faithfully, and it would have made things more even.”

Chloe was thankful to escape from Eunice, who she was beginning to believe was the very last person one should attempt to deceive, but she was a little afraid that David, as
soon as they were alone, would revert to the subject of her engagement, and question her about such a surprising announcement. But although she was certain he would do so before long he said nothing to embarrass her while they made their way to the stables, and the quarters occupied by some fine specimens of the dog world. Linda was Pentland’s special pet, and she left her new family to come at once at his call. Chloe was able to forget everything while she uttered enraptured cries over the puppies.

During lunch there were no awkward moments for Chloe, and after lunch Eunice took her to inspect her own wardrobe, which was one of the most comprehensive imaginable.

“It’s a pity we can’t pop across to Paris to get you something really exciting for your trousseau,” she said; but I’ve no doubt Pierre will show you Paris—and how!—when you’re married. But I did think we might go up to London for a few days. It’ll be a bit of a rush, since you’re being married so soon, but I can introduce you in all the right quarters, and get people to hurry.”

“It’s very good of you,” Chloe replied awkwardly, “but I’m not planning an expensive trousseau. I can always buy things afterwards.”

Eunice swung open the door of a vast, built-in wardrobe, and ran her hand along the line of dresses.

“What are you going to wear tonight, by the way? I told you I asked Pierre to dinner, and we must have you looking nice. I know you haven’t got a very large collection of things yourself, at the moment, so what about this?” and she lifted a cloudy black net dress off its hanger.

It was a truly delectable dress, with a patterning of green rhinestones on the bodice, and ideal for Chloe with her greenish eyes. But she was experiencing a strange sensation of dislike for Eunice at that particular moment, and—more—she had the odd conviction that Eunice was not altogether pleased with her. She had never treated her with the warmth and friendliness that David had shown her from the beginning of their acquaintance, but up till now they had got on very well together, and Eunice had frequently been kind in a condescending way. Now she was being kind without the condescension, but there was a queer, irritable impatience in her eyes as she looked the younger girl up and down, and tossed her the dress as if it was the merest trifle she was bestowing.

“There, take it! I’ll give it to you,” she said. “And be sure and put some make-up on tonight, and make yourself as attractive as you can. You’ve quite a few possibilities, you know,” regarding her critically.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t possibly accept this dress,” Chloe objected. The label inside it was a pretty fair indication of what it had cost. “I might borrow it
...”

Eunice waved her away.

“I’ve told you it’s yours,” she said, “and you can have shoes, a
nd
anything else you need to go with it. And I mean to make myself responsible for your new outfit of clothes. David and I will give them to you for a wedding present!”

Her eyes rested on Chloe, smiling, benevolent, but there was still that suggestion of cold dislike about them—hidden somewhere behind them, between the thickness of her eyelashes.

Chloe, when she went downstairs, didn’t feel in the least like scintillating. The maid, Evans, had done skilful things to her hair, and she looked like an exciting shadow as she moved forward into the huge room with its ultra-modern decor where the others were already assembled—including Pierre.

Pierre was wearing a dinner jacket that fitted him perfectly, and for the first time Chloe had no feeling of being completely out of the picture as she moved to greet him. She was nervous, and she was pale—for Evans had advised against even a touch of rouge because her skin was so clear and fine—but the black dress did things to her exposed arms and shoulders that made Pierre stare rather hard, and the green rhinestones found their reflection in the unusual brilliance of her eyes. A touch of mascara, and a clear pink lipstick like the heart of a rose, did the rest.

“You look very lovely tonight, Chloe,” Pierre told her gently. “It would be hard for anyone to look lovelier!”

“It’s amazing what the right clothes, and attention to detail, will do,” Eunice drawled, with a flashing smile. She wore a dress of dull gold satin herself, and she wasn’t merely lovely—she was spectacularly beautiful. “A little more effort and we shall have Chloe forgetting her Cinderella days altogether.”

“Chloe has never been a Cinderella,” David rebuked his sister, and he moved nearer to Chloe’s side as if he too would like to permit himself the pleasure of gazing at her. “She was merely unwise when she picked her father, that’s all. He was too strict, and he hadn’t enough money, had he, Chloe?”

Chloe heard herself protesting:

“There was nothing wrong with my father. He was a good man, and money doesn’t necessarily make for happiness.”

“No, but it can help to bestow it,” David observed in the same gentle fashion that Pierre had made use of when he spoke to her. “Especially when it’s a young woman who ought to have
things, and there’s pleasure in seeing her eyes light up! I hope your eyes will remain perpetually alight, Chloe, now that your days of servitude are over. You’ll have to learn how to play!”

“You talk as if I’ve been a—a bond-slave all my days,” Chloe objected, feeling their three pairs of eyes upon her. “I was very happy with Madame Albertin.”

“But you’ll be happier with Madame Albertin’s nephew,” Eunice murmured, sending her one of her slanting looks of amusement, which somehow passed on and attached itself to Pierre Albertin. He met it and looked away, and she stood up and made a graceful move to the door as a silver-toned gong sounded in the hall.

The meal was certainly a chef
’
s dream, and the dining-room itself was a serene place of delicately toned woods and harmonious greys and blues. There was wine that glowed like amethysts in the Venetian glasses, and branching candelabra sent pale flames to the ceiling. Although the sun was shining in the June garden outside, and birds were singing after a shower of rain, the long low room seemed shadow-filled, and the pale flames were like tulips in the gentle gloom.

Chloe could see them edging the glistening surface of Eunice's golden gown, and putting dancing lights in her eyes; and although she kept her own eyes mostly lowered, whenever she lifted them Pierre was gazing at her with his lustrous brown gaze, and in that, too, was the magic of wavering lights. One moment the eyes seemed incredibly soft, and she wanted to put out her hand and touch him—as if that was what he was secretly compelling her to do—and then they were withdrawn and shadowed, and she felt as if there was a gulf between them that could never be bridged.

She felt like that when Eunice, with a queer sort of imperviousness as to whether or not she was inflicting hurt, asked him whether Miss de Lisle was still at the King’s Arms, and if not how soon she was returning to London.

“She left for London this afternoon,” Pierre answered curtly.

Eunice surveyed him across the table with a secret smile on her lips.

“Poor little Miss de Lisle!” she said. “She’s so pretty, and she seems to have had rather a raw deal. First your aunt wouldn’t have her in the house, and now she’s had to go back to town without a job.” Her eyes said, And without you! “I used to have a certain amount of influence with repertory companies
...
I once fancied I wanted to act myself! I wonder whether I could help her at all?”

“Thank you, but it won’t be necessary,” Pierre replied, just as curtly, but he stared at her rather hard across the table.
“
Fern has a job to g
o
to, and in any case she is not penniless.”

Chloe felt as if she was completely out of her depth. Pierre looked sombre and remote, dark and a trifle austere, and when Eunice suggested that she should take Chloe up to London straight away he didn’t object. Neither did he agree immediately.

“If you really want to get married quickly, then there isn’t much time to waste, is there?” Eunice pointed out practically, spreading her pale hands in the first faint light of the stars that was casting a pearly shimmer across the sea. “And buying clothes takes time. Chloe hasn’t a great many things at the moment, and we’ll have to rush things even if we leave here tomorrow. I suggest David drives us in to Truro tomorrow morning, and we catch the early train.”

“Early train?” Pierre seemed to awake from some sort of abstraction that had held him. “But surely it isn’t as important as all that to buy clothes? Chloe can have all the things she wants after we’re married.
I
’ll
buy them for her then!”

But later it was agreed that they should catch the morning train—and that in spite of sudden opposition by David, who couldn’t think why this marriage had to be rushed so. Chloe was welcome to remain at High Cross for as long as she pleased, and there was absolutely no need for her to marry anyone in a hurry! Chloe looked at him gratefully, but she knew that Eunice and Pierre between them had taken her future into their hands, and she no longer had a future of her own to decide upon. From now on it would be what others decided for her!

But, later still that night, saying good night to Pierre, she wasn’t at all sure that she was even capable of deciding upon her own future. It was like something hidden from her behind a cloud, and she felt afraid all at once—really desperately afraid—lest it was going to be very black indeed. Or merely colourless and empty and therefore soul-destroying. The sort of future she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy, if she had one, for at heart she had always craved for warmth and happiness in the future, and she knew it, and now that she recognised that she might never know happiness she felt like one lost and crying in the wilderness.

Her hands went out instinctively to Pierre as they stood at the far end of the terrace, above the sleeping, shimmering sea. The other two had left them alone, and Chloe in her black dress looked like an insubstantial shadow. Her face was small and pale, her eyes huge. Her mouth was uncertain and tremulous.