Sister of the Bride (8 page)

‘No, I shan’t mind,’ I said quiet
l
y. ‘I’ve already met Eric and I realize how he resents his disability.’

‘Oh, so you’ve met Eric!’ For a moment she looked nonplussed and I could see that my cool rejoinder had taken her by surprise and made her wary as though, for the first time, she suspected that I might not prove as accommodating as Averil. But immediately she regained her poise. ‘Then I can expect you,’ she said pleasantly as she made her departure.

I watched as her fashionably thin figure in the perfectly fitting tweeds walked down the path to where her chauffeur was patiently waiting. She waved as she drove off and I wondered why I had been weak enough to accept her invitation. When Averil returned from her cruise, Mrs. Ashmore and her world would be quickly put behind me. I closed the door and called Rodney from the garden.

He raced up eagerly, relieved that the coast was clear. ‘You’re not really going to visit that horrid Mrs. Ashmore tomorrow?’ he asked incredulously.

‘How do you know
?
’ I said, surprised.

‘I was listening outside the window.’ He
smiled
smugly.

I said severely, ‘You know perfectly well you shouldn’t, don’t you?’

He nodded agreement. ‘But why are you going to Ashmore House? You haven’t told me,’ he persisted.

I gazed at him helplessly. It was impossible to tell him my reasons when I couldn’t explain them to myself, though I had the unpleasant feeling that somehow or other they involved Vance Ashmore.

CHAPTER FIVE

I TOOK especial care as I dressed the following afternoon for my visit to Ashmore House. When I was ready I critically surveyed myself in the long mirror.
I was looking my best, I decided. The sage green linen frock suited my colouring and as the day was hot and sunny I wore a wide-brimmed hat of burnt orange that flopped against my shoulders. Downstairs I could hear Mrs. McAlister rattling busily at the kitchen stove. She had promised to stay on until I returned. I felt faintly annoyed with myself for caring how I looked, but then I assured myself firmly that it was simply a gesture of defiance.

It was Mrs. McAlister who punctured my self
-
confidence.

When I went downstairs she tamed from the stove, her face scarlet where she had been frying kippers for what she called her ‘high tea.’ ‘Well, dearie, you certainly look a fair picture,’ she exclaimed with an air of unflattering astonishment. She chuckled insinuatingly. ‘It’s plain that Mr. Vance must have taken your fancy, but then it’s not surprising, for all the lassies hereabouts are daft after him. Though goodness knows he’s not what you’d call handsome. It’s not surprising he has a fine notion of himself.

‘I certainly haven’t taken a fancy, as you call it, to Vance Ashmore,’ I said crossly.

Mrs. McAlister, however, was not squashed. She chattered on good-naturedly as she transferred the kippers to a hot plate. ‘Now you run along, dearie ’ she said affably, ‘and don’t bother your head about the wean, for we’ll get on like a house afire.’

Rodney, who was regarding the kippers without enthusiasm, said loudly, ‘I’m not “a wean”, and I hate kippers.’

Mrs. McAlister looked dismayed. ‘Hate kippers! Did you ever hear the likes!’ she exclaimed dis
believingl
y. ‘Now you just sit down there like a good wee boy, and I’ll give you a lovely big kipper all to yourself.
’

As I went out I could hear Rodney reply, whiningly,
‘
I won’t take your horrid old kipper, so there you are!’ Mrs. McAlister’s voice was raised incredulously.

I crossed the orchard and went through the gap that led into the woods. It was a beautiful afternoon, the sunlight splintering through the soft green foliage of the tall trees. Pretty as Cherry Cottage was, I was glad to be free of Rodney and his continual demands on my time and attention. I felt a sense of excitement as I cleared the woods and came to the broad, sweeping gravel avenue.

As I drew near to Ashmore House I could make out three figures casually lounging on the terrace and I was aware that I was under close scrutiny. The hat that I had thought so becoming now seemed over-elaborate and unsuitable and I began to feel awkward and self
-
conscious. As I reached the foot of the terrace I was heartily wishing myself back at Cherry Cottage.

Vance got to his feet, glass in hand, ‘Welcome to Ashmore,’ he said with a familiar tinge of mockery.

‘You sound quite feudal, Vance,’ Eric said, irritably, from his wheelchair, ‘but then why shouldn’t you when you’re master of all you survey!’ His face looked
pale and bad-tempered and in spite of the warmth of the afternoon he had a plaid rug wrapped firmly
around his legs.

‘But how cha
rming
you look, my dear,’ Mrs. Ashmore said brigh
tl
y. ‘I do adore those floppy hats.’ She was reclining on an elaborate wickerwork lounging chair, her slim bony figure impeccably dressed in a trouser suit of lemon-yellow wild silk. Around one skinny wrist she wore a broad band of gold inset with plaques of pale carved jade. Even relaxed, she gave the impression of having given a lot of time and trouble to her appearance.
‘
Vance, tell Alice we’ll have tea on the terrace, it’s such a
heavenly afternoon.’

When Vance had disappeared through the long French windows Mrs. Ashmore patted the gaily-coloured cushions piled beside her. ‘Do sit down here, my dear, and we’ll have a cosy gossip. I’ve all sorts
of questions to ask you.’

‘That means that Mother intends to pump you,
Eric said acidly.

‘Now, Eric, you’re in one of your tiresome moods,
’
his stepmother smiled tightly. ‘If you can’t be civil you should go about your own affairs and leave us frivolous females to gossip in peace.’

‘And what exactly would my “affairs”, as you call them, be?’ Eric enquired caustically. ‘Since Father misguidedly left the Company to Va
n
ce it doesn’t leave me very much to do, does it?’

‘Your father knew best,’ Mrs. Ashmore said in a low angry voice, ‘and I do
wish you
’
d stop airing ou
r
dirty linen in front of visitors.’ An angry flush appeared
on her cheekbones.

‘Surely you don’t consider Esther a stranger
?
After
all, is she not sister to Vance’s probable future bride? Sooner or later she’s bound to find out that Vance and
I
hate each other like poison, and on
my
side at least, with very good reason.’

At this point Vance returned and Eric lapsed into a brooding silence.

Mrs. Ashmore reached towards a small round table on whose marble surface stood a silver cigarette box and lighter. She offered the box to me, and when I refused, lit up and smoked in silence for a moment, her eyes narrowed in thought. ‘How convenient that you were able to take on Rodney at such short notice!’ she began casually. ‘Averil didn’t tell us quite what you did—some sort of social work, I gathered
!’

I stared at her in astonishment. How typical of Averil that she should have put me in such a false position. I was aware of Vance standing behind me and I knew he was listening for my answer. As far as Mrs. Ashmore was concerned I felt the question was simply her first salvo. She was determined, I felt sure, to find out if I was as accommodating as Averil and as aspiring to play the sycophant. But then Averil had a very good reason for her deceptive docility. She was determined to win Mrs. Ashmore’s approval and have her as a firm ally in her campaign to secure Vance as her husband. But I had no such intention, I told myself grimly. In fact, the man who was standing behind me, on his granite features a barely concealed air of mockery, was the last man on earth I would consider in such a role. ‘I worked in a stockbroker’ office,’ I said abruptly.

‘An office!’ Mrs. Ashmore repeated. For once her glossy poise seemed to desert her. ‘Somehow I got the impression from Averil that you more or less gave your time to some sort of charitable work!
’

I heard Vance give a bark of laughter. ‘Good heavens, Mother, you don’t think the
modern
girl gives her time to what you call charitable work, like a Victorian miss distributing flannel and port wine!’

Mrs. Ashmore laughed a little artificially. ‘No doubt I misunderstood dear Averil, but I distinct
l
y got the impression—
’
she stopped abruptly and seemed to welcome the diversion the elderly uniformed maid caused by appearing on the terrace pushing a tea-trolley.

Her patrician features looked frowningly on as the servant arranged the tea-things on a silver tea-tray on the marble-topped table and I guessed my admission had come as an unpleasant revelation to her. It was easy to see what words had been on the tip of her tongue. She had got the impression; she had been about to say, that Averil had come of a wealthy and leisured family. Now that she knew I was a working girl she would have to reconstruct her attitude towards me.

But with the smoothness that years of practice had perfected, she chatted pleasantly as she poured from the big silver teapot. ‘We were so lucky to get Averil as a tenant for the cottage. I mean, some completely impossible person might have taken it, and after all, Cherry Cottage is so near us and so much a part of the estate that it would have been awkward if someone incompatible had moved in.
’

I could guess what she meant by incompatible. By marrying Clive Etherton, Averil had entered a circle acceptable to the socially prominent Mrs. Ashmore. I realised now that her preliminary question was an e
f
fort to find out details of our life. Averil, in spite of her vivacious and outspoken manner, was fundamentally too cautious to jeopardize her place in Mrs. Ashmore’s esteem by any embarrassing disclosures.

‘But then Vance knew Averil would make an eminently suitable tenant,’ Eric said. ‘After all, you knew her for a fairly long time, didn’t you, Vance? You appeared such old friends when she came here first. It was obvious that you knew exac
tl
y what you were taking on when you gave the cottage to her.’ Like most of his remarks it seemed to hold a suggestion of malice, I could almost feel the tension that Eric’s words had created between the two men.

Vance was standing beside his mother and for a moment I glanced up at him as he took a teacup from his mother and handed it to me. What Eric had said only confirmed what I already suspected concerning the relationship between Vance and Averil. After all, it had appeared so clearly in the photograph that showed them in an unguarded moment.

He caught my glance and held it with a sardonic expression that made me look away in embarrassment. I wondered if those dark penetrating eyes had guessed my thoughts.

‘
If you mean I knew Averil was a charming and intelligent girl, you’re perfec
tl
y right. Even a misanthrope like yourself must have realised that
!’

‘I’m anything but a misanthrope,’ Eric snapped angrily, ‘but I flatter myself I can spot a scheming little gold-digger a mile off even if she does happen to be devastatingly pretty!’

There was an appalled silence, then Eric swung his wheelchair around with a furious gesture and propelled himself along the side of the terrace.

‘You must forgive him, my dear,’ Mrs. Ashmore said hurriedly. ‘My stepson is inclined to show his jealousy too obviously. But then I’m afraid my menfolk are a trifle uncouth.’

It was an attempt to cover over Eric’s outburst, but I knew by the softening of the glance she gave to Vance, the inheritor of the Ashmore fortune and what went with the position, that he held a very different place in her life from the crippled and ineffectual Eric. And at that moment I disliked Vance even more than I had previously.

‘Just to show you how wrong you are to describe me as uncouth, I propose to show Miss Carson over the garden. Isn’t that the correct procedure when a lady calls to tea?’

He was deliberately making fun of me, I realised. It was a suggestion that I was censorious and straight-laced.

“I’ll
show her the apple of your eye.’ He turned to me. ‘Mother was on a visit to Italy recently and she returned with a beautiful fountain. I’m sure she’d like to have your opinion on it.’

I was on the point of telling him I’d prefer to stay on the terrace and chat with his mother. It would let him see, I thought with satisfaction, that here at least was one girl who had no intention of jumping at the chance of a tete-a-tete with the wealthy Vance Ashmore.

His mother frowned. ‘But, Vance, it hasn’t been connected yet. Besides, I’ve all sorts of things I want to talk to Esther about.’

I suspected these queries would include a close look at my family background.

‘Nevertheless, Miss Carson must get the opportunity to consider your treasure and admire your taste in sculpture,’ Vance said pleasan
tl
y, but there was an inflexibility about his intention that his mother evidently recognized.

She shrugged resignedly. ‘Oh, very well, but you’ll only bore her.’