His Convenient Marriage Read Free

visits, but this proved impossible. To Chessie's embar¬rassment the older woman had immediately recognised the fact that she was still physically innocent, and enjoyed bombarding her with a constant stream of unwanted inti¬mate advice, like poisoned darts.
    But nothing Linnet could say or do had any real power to damage her happiness. Or her unspoken hopes for the future.
    That came from a totally unexpected direction.
    When Sir Robert announced that he was sending his son to business school in America, it was like a bolt from the blue. At first, Alastair seemed determined to fight his fa¬ther's decision, but when Sir Robert remained adamant, his mood changed to coldly furious acceptance.
    'Can't you make him listen?' Chessie pleaded.
    'It's no use, darling.' Alastair's face was hard. 'You don't know my father when his mind's made up like this.'
     
    It was true that Chessie had only ever seen the genial, open-handed side of Sir Robert. This kind of arbitrary be¬haviour seemed totally out of character.
    'But I'll be back, Chessie.' He stared into space, his face set. 'This isn't the end of everything. I won't allow it to be.'
    And I believed him, thought Chessie.
    She hoped it wasn't some subconscious conviction that one day he'd return to claim her that had kept her here in the village. Because common sense told her she was crying for the moon.
    If Alastair had been seriously interested in her, if it had been more than a boy and girl thing, then he'd have asked her to marry him before he'd gone to the States, or at least begged her to wait for him. She'd made herself face that a long time ago.
    It had been obvious that everyone in the neighbourhood had been expecting some kind of announcement. And even more apparent that, once he'd departed, people had been feeling sorry for her. The sting of their well-meant sym¬pathy had only deepened her heartache and sense of iso¬lation.
    As had the attitude of Sir Robert, who'd made it coldly clear that he'd regarded it as a transient relationship, and not to be taken seriously. While Linnet's derisive smile had made Chessie feel quite sick.
    She'd never realised before how much the other woman disliked her.
    She'd wondered since whether Sir Robert, a shrewd busi¬nessman, had divined something about her father's looming financial troubles, and had decided to distance his family from a potential scandal.
    To widespread local astonishment, Sir Robert had an¬nounced his own early retirement, and the sale of his com¬pany to a European conglomerate. Following this, within a few weeks of Alastair's departure, the Court had been closed up, and the Markhams had gone to live in Spain.
     
    'Joining the sangria set,' Mrs. Hawkins the post mistress had remarked. 'She'll fit right in there.'
    But now, it seemed, they were coming back, although that didn't necessarily mean that Alastair would be return¬ing with them. That could be just wishful thinking on Jenny's part, she acknowledged.
    And Chessie hadn't wanted to question her too closely about what she'd heard. For one thing, Jenny should not have been hanging round the post office eavesdropping on other people's conversations. For another, Chessie didn't want to give the impression she was too interested.
    The burned child fears the fire, she thought wryly. She'd worn her heart on her sleeve once for Alastair already. This time, she would be more careful.
    If there was a 'this time...'
    'My God, Chessie, I'd hardly have known you.'
    Was that what he'd say when—if—he saw her again?
    Certainly, she bore little resemblance to the girl he'd known. The Chessie of that summer had had hair streaked with sunlight. Her honey-tanned skin had glowed with youth and health as well as happiness, and her hazel eyes had smiled with confidence at the world about her.
    Now, she seemed like a tone poem in grey, she thought, picking at her unremarkable skirt and blouse. And it wasn't just her clothes. The reflection in the window looked