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Authors: Sara Craven

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BOOK: A High Price to Pay
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'She's also a keen walker, and a member of some Advanced Motorists

association.' Mrs Mortimer sat very upright, two bright spots of

colour burning in her face. 'I will not be manipulated in this way!

How can you allow it, Alison?'

Alison's smile was small and twisted. 'I have my own life to put in

order,' she said.

Melanie was waiting in the corridor when she emerged. 'Go,' she

ordered briefly. 'I'll look after Mother, and get her into a better frame

of mind. She can't sit in that room feeling sorry for herself for the rest

of her life. She's still a comparatively young woman.' She put her

arms round her sister and hugged her fiercely. 'Be happy. I've packed

a case for you.'

'But you don't know what I need—what I want to take,' Alison

protested half-heartedly.

Melanie gave her a catlike smile. 'I've made an educated guess,' she

said. 'Now, be off with you.'

It was only a small case, but it seemed as heavy as lead-as Alison

carried it across the narrow road, and rapped at the door.

It was answered almost at once by a middle- aged woman wearing a

neat overall over a dark dress. Her smile was polite, but her eyes

narrowed when she saw the suitcase at Alison's side.

'May I help you, madam?'

Alison moistened her lips. 'This is—Mr Bristow's house?'

'It is.' The woman's tone remained civil, but forbidding. 'Are you

expected? Mr Bristow mentioned nothing about visitors.'

Alison lifted her chin. 'I'm Mrs Bristow,' she said quietly.

'Well, I never!' the other exclaimed helplessly. Her smile broadened.

'Come in, Mrs Bristow. I hadn't the least idea you were arriving. Mr

Bristow never uttered a word—and he's out too.'

'It was an impulse.' Alison stepped into a narrow, thickly carpeted

hall. 'I hope it's not inconvenient,' she offered awkwardly.

'Never in this world. If I've asked Mr Bristow once, I must have asked

him twenty times when he was going to bring you here, but he's

always said you prefer country life. This is a real pleasure, I must say.'

The woman lifted Alison's case and carried it down the passage. 'I'm

Doris Gordon,' she added over her shoulder. 'I've worked for Mr

Bristow ever since he first came to live here. It's a pretty house, but

small. Not big enough for a family,' she added, giving Alison a

shrewd, top-to- toe assessment that brought the colour flooding into

her face.

'Oh, dear.' Alison bit her lip. is it that obvious?'

'Only if you know what to look for,' Mrs Gordon assured her kindly.

'And you look just like my eldest girl did, madam. Been a bit sick too,

I daresay, but that'll soon pass. Now, this is the main bedroom,' she

added, throwing open the door.

It was a comfortable room, but the decor and furnishings were

uncompromisingly, even starkly masculine. It was hardly the kind of

love nest where Alison had imagined Nick entertaining his ladies.

'Shall I unpack for you, madam?' The question brought her sharply

out of her reverie.

'Er—no,' she said quickly, remembering Melanie's feline smile. 'I'll

do it.'

'Then I'll make you some tea,' Mrs Gordon said briskly, 'It'll be ready

in the drawing room as soon as you are.'

Her instinct had been quite right, Alison discovered as she opened the

case. A wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, as she lifted out

the sinuous lingerie that Aunt Beth had given her, and the red dress

she had bought for that first dinner party, and never worn. All her

prettiest and most seductive clothes, in fact.

The drawing room was upstairs, a big room overlooking the walled

patio garden to the rear. As well as tea, Mrs Gordon had provided thin

cucumber sandwiches and a featherlight Victoria sponge.

'You need feeding up,' she said with a martial light in her eye as she

set the tray down. 'There's no excuse for looking washed out when

you live in the country.'

In spite of her inner turmoil, Alison drank two cups of tea, and

demolished all the sandwiches, and two slices of sponge, winning an

approving smile from the housekeeper when she returned.

'Mr Bristow did say he wouldn't want me this evening,' she said rather

doubtfully. 'But I'll be happy to stay if you want me to.'

'Oh, no,' Alison assured her. 'I'm sure you have your own plans. I'll be

quite all right.'

'Well, if you're sure.' Mrs Gordon was clearly relieved. 'I usually

leave about now, unless Mr Bristow's giving a dinner party, of course.

Although there aren't as many of them as there were when he was a

single gentleman.'

Alison bent her head, 'I suppose not,' she acknowledged quietly.

She'd been under a number of misapprehensions, it seemed. And this

house was one of them. It was pretty, as Mrs Gordon had said, but it

had a curiously unlived-in atmosphere. Apart from the books, shelved

in the alcoves that flanked the elegant fireplace, and the collection of

records racked beneath the hi-fi unit, there were few signs of Nick's

occupancy. It was a place—somewhere to come back too, but no

more a home for him than Ladymead had been, she realised suddenly.

And realised too how lonely he must have been.

She had gone into this marriage thinking only of her own security and

stability, and that of her family. She had never considered Nick's

needs at all. He was wealthy and powerful, therefore he had to be

self-sufficient too. She had kept house at Ladymead, but she had

never attempted to make a home for him, to create a refuge against

the pressures of his working life.

She had been hurt because he came to Ladymead so seldom, she

thought ruefully. Now it seemed incredible that he had ever been

there at all.

It seemed odd too to look through the books and find many of her

own favourites among them. She knew so little about his tastes, after

all. That brief cool courtship had been totally unlike the usual voyage

of exploration that two people make at the beginning of a

relationship.

She wandered restlessly round the house, wishing he would come

home, but dreading the moment at the same time. In the neat kitchen,

she found steaks and the makings of a salad in the refrigerator. She

decided to prepare a
gratin dauphinois
to go with them, and that gave

her an occupation for a while.

But the time afterwards dragged endlessly. Mrs Gordon clearly had

no idea where Nick was, she thought. Supposing he did not return at

all? Perhaps he had already written off his short, disastrous marriage,

and had sought out one of his past loves.

She was slumped bonelessly in an armchair listening to Delius's

'Brigg Fair' on the hi-fi, and staring into space, when at last she heard

the rattle of a key in the lock.

She sat up, her fingers digging sharply into the padded arms of the

chair. It seemed a very long time before she heard Nick's step on the

stair.

Then the drawing room door opened, and he walked in.

He looked tired, she noticed immediately, and strained, his mouth set

in the lines of cynicism she detested.

He said, 'I already have a housekeeper here.'

'I've met her,' Alison told him. 'I—I haven't come to—usurp her

position.'

'Then may I know what you have come for?'

He wasn't making it easy for her, she thought, but then why should

he? Aloud, she said, 'I—I've come to be with you.'

'How nice,' he said harshly. 'You don't want me as a husband, but I'll

fill the bill as a tame stud. Is that it?'

'No!' Her voice lifted in a kind of anguish. 'No, you don't understand.

Please—please let me explain.'

He shrugged. 'What is there to explain?'

Alison said in a low voice, 'The way I've misjudged you, first of all.

I've been stupid and very blind. I'm sorry.'

His mouth twisted. 'Really? I've always known what a bloody low

opinion you had of me, but I must admit I never expected to be

accused of seducing a child like Melanie.'

Alison bent her head. 'I know,' she said wretchedly. 'But I found out

you'd been seeing each other without a word to me—and she does

care for you, Nick—more than she'll admit, I think.'

He nodded expressionlessly. 'She has a slight crush,' he said. 'Nothing

I can't handle, and nothing that will survive the first glimmer of a man

of her own on the horizon. I thought, knowing her, you'd have had the

wit to appreciate that for yourself.'

She swallowed. 'I wasn't thinking very clearly.' She looked at him

appealingly. 'And—you—you didn't deny it.'

'Why should I?' he demanded roughly. 'From where I was standing, it

seemed as if you were grasping at straws—that you wanted to be rid

of me at any price. How the hell could you have believed, even for a

moment, that I thought of Melly as anything more than your kid

sister?'

'I suppose I was too jealous to make much sense of anything,' she said

quietly.

'Jealous?' Nick smiled bitterly. 'I don't think you even know the

meaning of the word. I thought, like a fool, that I could make you care

for me. That first time in bed together, I thought I'd actually

succeeded. You told me you loved me before you fell asleep, and I

felt as if I'd been given the world. I lay awake for hours making all

kinds of plans to carry you off with me and spoil you to death in every

way there was, but the next morning we were suddenly as far apart as

ever.' He sighed. 'You made it more than clear that it was your house

and your family which mattered to you. I was there on sufferance, and

that was all.'

'Oh, but you're so wrong!' Alison beat her hands together in distress.

'I—I'd known for ages I was in love with you, even on our

honeymoon, but I was scared to let you see—in case you rejected me.'

Her face burned. 'I'd seen newspaper pictures of some of the women

you'd been involved with in the past, and I knew I couldn't compete.'

There was sheer incredulity on Nick's face. He said gently, 'But you

never had to compete, my darling. All I was praying for was one look

from you, one sign.'

'But you said all those things,' Alison pointed out almost inaudibly.

'You said you didn't want any commitment—that you didn't believe

in love, even.'

Nick groaned. 'I said altogether too much,' he said ruefully. 'In my

own defence, I have to say I was in a pretty confused state. I'd known,

you see, when your father first approached me for that money, that it

could all go wrong, and I tried to warn him—to deter him, but he

wouldn't listen. But that didn't stop me feeling guilty about it. And the

fact that you obviously despised me caught me on the raw too. Yet, at

the same time, I was intrigued. It was such a contrast to the kind of

dull politeness you'd treated me to when I sat next to you at dinner.'

Alison gasped. 'You weren't exactly charming yourself!'

'I had other things on my mind,' he said frankly. 'I was there to finalise

the deal with your father, and I was damned uneasy about it.' He

paused. 'I asked you to marry me on an impulse I barely understood

myself, although I think now it was the beginnings of love, even

though I didn't recognise it as such.'

'When did you?' She had to know.

'That day in my mother's garden,' he said slowly. 'There you were

beside me, and it seemed so utterly right that you should be. I knew

without question that what I wanted from life was you at my side for

ever. But I was scared stiff because I knew I'd ruined everything with

all that talk of contracts and bargains. I couldn't suddenly blurt out

that I loved you, because you'd never have believed me, and I might

have lost you. So I decided to bide my time.' He paused. 'The

honeymoon was hell. I felt all the time as if I was treading on

eggshells. You seemed to bristle every time I came near you, except

for that last night.'

'I remember.' Alison smiled a little.

'So do I,' he said. 'For the first time since I'd met you, you felt totally

warm and yielding in my arms. I had to force myself to go off to my

stateroom alone, but when I got there, I couldn't rest.' He looked at

her. 'It may sound crazy, but I seemed to hear you calling to

me—wanting me, so I came to you, hoping, only to have my eyes

nearly scratched out for my trouble.'

She said in a muffled voice, 'You weren't mistaken, I was calling to

you. But then I got scared too. I thought you just wanted to use me—

because I was there, and you needed a woman.'

Nick said softly, 'No, love. It was you, and only you. I was crazy for

you. That's why I stayed away from Ladymead so much. I thought not

seeing you might make the ache easier to bear, but it didn't. 1 began to

wonder if you were really as happy with your precious bargain as you

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