Love in Disguise Part 17

'She didn't say I was here?' Claudine asked shrilly.

'She told him I collected you this evening and that we went out to dinner. He's on his way here now.'

Claudine's gasp was audible. 'He mustn't find me here so late! He'll be furious. You know how insanely jealous he is. He'll never believe we were just sitting here talking.'

'Particularly as we can't tell him what we were talking about.' Mark swore angrily. 'I told you to go home hours ago.'

'I know-and I'm sorry. But what can we do now? Jasper will be here any minute. Oh, God!'

There was the sound of steps across the carpet and Anthea turned swiftly and ran towards the servants' hall. But again she was stopped by a ring, only this time it was the doorbell, followed almost immediately by the knocker. It reverberated through the hall as though the man outside intended to break his way in. The drawing-room door was flung wide and Mark stood there, Claudine behind him, pale as a ghost.

'What in heaven's name are you doing here?' he said to Anthea.

'I came down for some milk.' She was overwhelmingly glad that the glass in her hand gave truth to her statement. 'I heard voices and thought it was a burglar. Then the bell rang and----'

The knocker crashed again and Claudine jumped. 'It's Jasper! If he finds me here he'll '

'We can't just let him stand there,' Mark cut in. 'You'd better hide.' His glasses glinted as his head turned in Anthea's direction again. 'Hide in Anthea's room. He'll never look for you there.'

'If he sees you haven't gone to bed yet he'll know I'm here,' Claudine cried. 'He'll search the house!' Her voice rose higher with every word. 'You don't know what he's like, Mark. He's insanely jealous of me. He might even have a gun!'

'Be quiet!' cried Mark, and catching Claudine by the shoulders, pushed her towards the butler's pantry. 'I'll try and keep Jasper talking as long as I can. You get out of the house and make for home.'

'I can't go home now,' Claudine sobbed. 'He'll want to know where I've been. I'll go to Mimi Pollocks. I've sometimes spent a night there when Jasper's been away.'

'Then get there as fast as you can.'

'I'll show you the back way out,' Anthea put in, and caught Claudine by the arm.

'It won't work,' said Claudine, swinging round to Mark. 'Not if he sees you're still up.'

'I'll say he was with me,' Anthea rushed in, and looked directly at Claudine. 'Go down the servants' hall past the kitchen to the back door. It's locked and bolted, but you'll find the key hanging on the wall beside it. You can slip out through the courtyard to the mews-you should be able to find a taxi there. If your husband sees me with Mr. Allen, he won't suspect anything.'

Claudine nodded, and clutching her bag, ran down the corridor. Behind her the knocker crashed again and as Mark moved across to answer it, Anthea raced into the drawing- room and flung herself on the settee, noting drearily that its pillows were already dented. She heard the bolt slide back and then Jasper's voice rasping and suspicious.

'I've come for my wife. I know she's here.'

'Claudine?' Mark sounded incredulous. 'Is this your idea of a joke? I left her hours ago.'

'Don't give me that! She isn't at home and I know she's----'

'I dropped her off at Mimi's,' Mark interrupted.

'At where?' Jasper stopped, still suspicious.

'At Mimi Pollocks'. She's a friend of your wife's; surely you know her? Claudine said she often stays there when you're abroad.'

'She's here,' Jasper insisted. 'You can't fool me. She's been making eyes at you for months-and you haven't been unaware of her either!'

'If you're suggesting I'm having a love affair with your wife ----'

'That's exactly what I'm suggesting!' Jasper bellowed, 'and I'm coming in to prove it.'

His steps rang out in the hall and Anthea sprawled across the settee. She clutched her dressing gown around her as the door was flung wide and the Australian rushed in. At the sight of Anthea he stopped dead. Then he shook himself like a dog coming out of water.

'You're not-you aren't-where's my wife?'

'How should I know?' Anthea made her voice faintly insolent, and deliberately pulled her dressing gown tighter as though to indicate that she wore only a flimsy nightdress underneath it. 'I've been here with Mark-Mr. Allen- since he came in.'

'You?'

Anthea glanced at Mark, who had come into the drawing- room, and then held out her hand to him in a half pleading gesture.

'This is awfully embarrassing, Mark. I didn't expect your friend to burst in on you in the middle of the night.'

'Neither did I,' he drawled, and shot an amused look at Jasper. 'Go home, old chap, and get a good night's sleep. Or if you'll rest easier, go and wake up Mimi. I'm sure she'll be delighted to give you a four a.m. cup of coffee!'

Jasper shook his head again. 'I'm sorry Mark, I-I don't know what got into me. But when I'm away from Claudine I always think... She's beautiful and young, and I----'

'There's no need to explain.' Mark was the epitome of the understanding host, and Jasper showed equal understanding as he gave Anthea a leer that could not be misinterpreted and which sent a wave of heat coursing through her body.

'I'm sorry for interrupting you, Mark. I hope you'll forgive me.'

'I'll answer that tomorrow,' Mark smiled, and leaned negligently against the door as Jasper muttered another apology and hurried from the house. Only as the sound of his car died away did he straighten and come into the centre of the room. As always it was difficult to read his expression because of his glasses, but there was no doubting the quirk of amusement that lifted the side of his mouth.

'The stage has lost a great actress in you, Anthea. And such imagination too!'

It saved your skin,' she said coldly and, now that the danger had passed, felt like a mother who had seen her child narrowly miss death. Only by hitting him could she relieve the tension. 'Perhaps you might have found it more amusing to see your name splashed in the newspapers?'

'It might happen even yet,' he replied. 'You don't think Jasper will keep quiet at finding you here with me at this hour of the night?'

'What do you mean? I work for you,' she retorted.

'Indeed you do; and in a very fetching dressing gown if I may say so. I'm afraid Jasper's going to regale his cronies with this little titbit.'

'But he couldn't! Not with a wife like----- ' She set her lips tightly together, but the man in front of her knew what she had been going to say.

'Thanks to your quick wits, my dear, Jasper now believes Claudine to be as pure as driven snow. It will give him double pleasure to turn you into the scarlet woman.'

Anthea shivered. In her efforts to save Mark from Goderick's fury, she had given no thought to what she was doing to herself. Now that she did, she saw it was too late to change the course of events. The thought of her father's distress was uppermost in her mind as she spoke. 'Even if Mr. Goderick does gossip about-about finding me here with you, it wouldn't get into the newspapers, would it?'

'It might. Men like me are considered fair game by news- hounds.' He rubbed his hand across his chin and looked at her speculatively. 'I'm surprised you consider the publicity so disagreeable. After all, as a member of the free-thinking younger generation---- '

'I don't care for myself,' she intervened. 'I'm thinking of my father!'

The sardonic expression left his face. 'I'm sorry, I'd completely forgotten your family. But I didn't ask you to rush to my defence, you know, although I greatly appreciate the fact that you did.' He crossed his arms on his chest. 'I'm sure it wasn't to save Claudine.'

Unwilling to say she had done it for him, yet equally unwilling to pretend she had done it for Claudine, Anthea remained mute.

'There's only one way to prevent any gossip,' he said in the silence. 'We can pretend you're my fiancee. I believe engagements these days are often regarded as being as good as marriage, and certainly if you were my future wife your being with me in your dressing gown at three in the morning wouldn't arouse much comment-if any at all.'

'Are you proposing to me?' she asked sharply.

'Only as a temporary measure.'

She averted her head. To have him propose to her was something she had never envisaged, and to have him do it as a pretence filled her with a bitterness tangible enough to be swallowed away. 'How long would we have to-to pretend for?' she asked.

'Does it matter?'

'Of course it matters. You don't think I want to be your fiancee, do you, any more than you want to be mine?'

'It might have its compensations.' Mark's eyes moved across her and she straightened her shoulders to stop her dressing gown from sagging.

'I would have to explain to Roger,' she said swiftly, 'and you would have to explain to Mrs. Goderick.'

'We'll both have explanations to make.' He was icily polite. 'But I take it you're agreeable in principle?'

'If you had any principle,' she said bitterly, 'we wouldn't be in this predicament now.'

He yawned. 'Halfway to dawn and you're as sharp as ever. You'll make a bitch of a wife for some unhappy man!'

Anthea jumped up and had reached the door when his drawling voice arrested her. 'If we announce our engagement to the press tomorrow, you can't continue as my housekeeper.'

'But I--- '

'And I'll have to ask my aunt to stay here with us as a chaperone. It will save you moving out.' His eyes glinted. 'Or did you think I was going to let you rush back to Reading?'

Furious at his teasing, yet strangely elated to know she could go on living here, she merely shook her head and ran from the room, afraid that if she remained she would burst into tears and throw herself into his arms. At last she was engaged to the man she loved. Engaged until such a time as he was able to openly admit his love for another woman.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Mark Allen's engagement was a nine days' wonder. The tabloids made reference to Anthea having worked as his housekeeper, but the more sober papers referred to her as a university student and the daughter of Professor Wilmot, the well-known historian. There were several extremely flattering photographs of her, and one where Mark had his arm across her shoulders and was regarding her with deep affection. And he had the audacity to comment on her acting ability!

Lady Wittle was delighted to install herself in Eaton Square. Her nephew had apparently not told her his engagement was a pretence, and Anthea was forced to listen to the woman talking to her about wedding plans and the future great-nephews and nieces she envisaged being able to spoil.

'I've waited so long for Mark to get married,' she said, 'and I'm absolutely delighted he had the sense to choose you.'

'We aren't married yet,' Anthea replied, and seeing Lady Wittle's startled glance, added: 'I'm superstitious. I don't like talking about the future.'

'There's no need to be superstitious with Mark's ring on your finger.' She glanced at Anthea's hand. 'Which reminds me, where is your engagement ring?'

'I haven't got one. Everything happened so quickly that I-I don't think Mark has had time to buy one yet.'

'If I know my nephew, he bought the ring the moment he made up his mind about you. And I'm pretty sure that was as soon as he saw you!'

Remembering the long black dress and the screwed-back hair, Anthea found this difficult to believe, and said so.

'Nonsense,' Lady Wittle replied. 'It didn't take me long to recognise your potential. Besides, I doubt if it was your looks that Mark fell in love with; I think it was those bright intelligent eyes and that lively mind of yours. Anyway, it takes more than an old-fashioned dress to hide sex appeal.'

'How right you are!'

Both women turned to see Mark advancing towards them.

'You're home early,' his aunt said affectionately.

'I have a business meeting here.' He glanced at Anthea and she noticed that behind his smile his expression was strained. 'It may go on most of the evening, so you'd better be prepared to amuse yourselves.' He came across to Anthea and pulled her against his side. 'How about a kiss for a weary man?'

Aware of Lady Wittle watching them, Anthea had no choice but to comply. Mark's lips were cool on hers, but as they felt the warmth of her mouth their pressure increased and she felt his arm tighten around her. Firmly but insistently she pulled away and made a pretence of smoothing her hair in front of the mirror.

'I feel I'm inhibiting you,' said Lady Wittle, and ignoring Anthea's protests, walked out.

As the door closed behind her Mark spoke. 'You're not always a good actress, are you? You should at least pretend you want to be alone with me.'

'I don't see any reason why you can't tell your aunt the truth.'

'The less people who know the truth the better. It's imperative that Jasper doesn't find out.'

'Do you think he would come and shoot you?' Anthea asked scornfully. 'Or do you honestly believe Claudine will stay with him for ever?'

'Claudine will leave him when----- ' He stopped abruptly. But he had said enough to destroy Anthea's illusionary pleasure in her pretended engagement, reminding her again that she was merely being used as a cover.

'Will you marry Claudine when she's free?' she asked.

'Are you really interested in my future or just curious?'

'Neither,' she said airily. 'I couldn't care less what you do.'

He stared at her broodingly and then put his hand in his pocket and withdrew a ring case. 'For you,' he said laconically.

She lifted the lid and, expecting to see a large if banal diamond, was entranced by a magnificent emerald. She slipped it on her engagement finger. 'It's beautiful... beautiful! But surely it wasn't necessary to get something so expensive?'

'It belonged to my mother. I had it made smaller to fit you.'

Her reply was forestalled by the arrival of Mark's visitors, and though she did not go with him as he left the drawing-room, she glimpsed their figures through the open door and saw it was the same two men she had let into the house the week before. One of them was an inspector, she remembered, and wished she had the courage to ask Mark what was wrong. She pushed back her hair and as she did so saw the ring on her finger; his mother's ring. How strange that he should have gone to the trouble of having it made smaller. Or would he have had to do so for Claudine anyway? Somehow she could not see this ring appealing to the French-Canadian, whose taste in jewellery ran to the baroque. But then men in love were often blind, and Mark might well think that because the ring had been his mother's, it would hold a sentimental value for Claudine.

As he had feared, Mark was not free to dine with her and his aunt, and they ate in the breakfast-room and then remained there to watch television. Anthea arranged for cups of soup and smoked salmon sandwiches to be served in the library. Although she was no longer the official housekeeper it seemed silly not to continue supervising the house.

'Are your parents pleased at your engagement?' Lady Wittle asked as the news headlines came to an end.

'I haven't seen them to speak to-they've rented a small villa in Portugal for a month-but they wrote and said they're delighted.'