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‘That isn’t very amusing.’ Her tone was chilly.
‘Who said I was joking?’ He paused, then said more gently, ‘Look, forget I said that. I suspect this is going to be a bloody difficult few days, Jo. Let’s do what we can to preserve the outward decencies, whatever our private feelings. For Lionel’s sake.’
‘You don’t have to bludgeon me with his memory,’ she said raggedly. ‘I’ll behave.’ She drew a breath. ‘I’ll go on ahead, give Mrs Ashby a hand. Have you had dinner?’
‘I had something on the plane. It successfully destroyed my appetite for the foreseeable future.’
‘Oh.’ She hesitated. ‘Well, when you bring the dogs in, will you dry off their paws, please? You’ll find their towels—’
‘In the rear cloakroom,’ he supplied. ‘Where they’ve always been. I’ve been gone for two years, Joanna. It’s hardly a lifetime.’
She bit her lip. ‘I thought it might have slipped your memory, that’s all.’
‘Oh, no, Joanna.’ His voice was quiet, almost reflective. ‘I think I can safely promise you that I haven’t forgotten a thing. Not the smallest detail.’
In the brief silence which followed, her sharply in-drawn breath was clearly audible.
He nodded, as if satisfied, then added, ‘Now, go and break the good news to Mrs Ashby. Like the dogs, she’ll be pleased to see me.’
Joanna turned and, half-stumbling, half-running, made her way back to the house.
Mrs Ashby’s reaction to the news was all Gabriel could have wished. She shed a few tears, smiled through them, made a few disjointed remarks, and bustled off to prepare his room.
Joanna knew she should have offered to help, but as she couldn’t in honesty share the good woman’s raptures she decided to keep her distance.
He’s been back five minutes, she thought, and he’s managed to unnerve me already. By the end of the week I’ll be a basket case.
When Gabriel himself returned, she was sitting in the drawing room, having dragged together the threads of her composure. She’d discarded her jacket and boots but resisted the impulse to tidy her wind-blown hair, or disguise the pallor of her face with cosmetics.
‘Well, this is a cosy, domestic scene.’
Joanna glanced up from the book she’d snatched up at random, and was pretending to read, to find him lounging in the doorway, watching her, his eyes hooded, his face inscrutable.
‘It’s better than you realise,’ she returned, trying to sound casual, in spite of the sudden dryness in her throat. ‘Grace has brought in a tray of fresh coffee. May I pour some for you?’
‘No, don’t get up. I’ll do it.’ He walked over to the side table and busied himself with the cafetière and cream jug. ‘She wanted to serve up a fatted calf, but I persuaded her just coffee would be fine.’
To her annoyance, the cup he handed her was just as she liked it. His memory for detail was indeed disturbingly good, she reflected uneasily.
Gabriel looked down at the book she was holding and whistled appreciatively.
‘Wisden? Is this interest in cricketing statistics a new departure?’
‘Not particularly.’ Joanna flushed with annoyance. Of all the damned things she could have chosen, she thought angrily. She closed the book with a bang, and put it down. ‘Actually, I began watching the game to keep your father company.’
His smile was tight-lipped. ‘Of course,’ he drawled. ‘The perfect daughter.’ He paused, then added softly, ‘In-law.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I think.’
He seated himself opposite her on one of the big chintz-covered sofas which flanked the fireplace. The dogs, who’d followed him into the room, lay down on the rug between them.
For the first time Joanna was able to take a real look at him, studying him covertly from under her lashes.
He’d changed, she thought. The lines beside his mouth had deepened, and his features had lost any last trace of boyishness. He looked not just older, but harder.
He glanced up, meeting her gaze meditatively, and she hurried into speech.
‘You were a long time coming down from the hill.’
His brows lifted. ‘Did you miss me?’ he drawled. ‘I’m flattered.’
She bit her lip. ‘That isn’t what I meant.’
His mouth twisted. ‘I didn’t really think it would be.’ He drank some coffee. ‘I went down the other way—to pick up my car. I’d left it in the lay-by at Combe Gate.’
‘Oh,’ Joanna said rather blankly. ‘I see.’
‘No,’ he said gently. ‘I don’t think you do. I wasn’t sure in my own mind whether I was ready to come back to this house yet, or if I preferred to spend the night in Midhampton. I went up onto the hill to spy out the lie of the land, and then you came along and the dogs recognised me. That seemed to make the decision for me.’
She said slowly, ‘If I’d been alone would you have said anything? Let me know you were there?’
‘Ah,’ he said lightly. ‘That we shall never know.’
‘Well—I think your decision was the right one.’ She paused. ‘Your room will be ready by now. I—I expect after all that travelling you’d appreciate an early night.’
‘Not particularly,’ he said. ‘I think, don’t you, that we should talk? Settle a few things?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her heart sinking. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘Gabriel, you may not want to hear this from me, but I really loved your father, and I—I’m devastated by what’s happened.’
He stared down at the cup and saucer he was holding. ‘Well, at least we agree on something.’
‘I had no idea he had any kind of heart trouble.’
Gabriel shrugged a shoulder. ‘I presume he didn’t want to worry you.’
She stared at him. ‘Then—you knew?’ she asked incredulously.
‘Yes.’ His voice was even. His tawny gaze met hers in direct challenge. ‘I’ve been seeing him quite regularly in London. The last time was a couple of weeks ago, when he came up to consult a specialist who recommended a by-pass operation.’ He paused. ‘But unfortunately fate intervened.’
He gave her a speculative look. ‘Our meetings have clearly come as an unpleasant shock to you. If you’d hoped the breach between us was total, and I’d be cut off with the proverbial shilling, you’re going to be disappointed.’
She stood up, spilling coffee down her skirt. ‘How dare you say that?’ Her voice shook. ‘I never thought—never wanted you to be apart from him. I’ve been blaming myself terribly…’
‘And scalding yourself as penance, it seems,’ Gabriel said grimly. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘No, of course not.’ She dabbed crossly at her damp skirt with a hankie. ‘God, how stupid.’
‘Sit down,’ he said more gently. ‘And calm down.’
‘I was perfectly calm,’ she said, off the edge of her voice, ‘until you started your—rotten insinuations.’
‘Mea culpa.’ His tone was almost casual. ‘Consider yourself absolved—of that particular crime anyway. And don’t throw any more coffee about,’ he added, as her head lifted in shock and she glared at him.
‘Is this your idea of preserving the decencies?’ she demanded.
‘That’s in public,’ he said. ‘This is private—just between the two of us. Husband to wife.’
‘Is that how you still regard us?’ Joanna perched tensely on the edge of the sofa.
He shrugged. ‘It happens to remain a legal reality, however regrettable.’
‘But not for much longer.’ Joanna swallowed. ‘Gabriel, we married each other for all the wrong reasons, but it doesn’t have to be a life sentence. Not any more.’
‘What do you suggest?’
‘A quick divorce,’ she said. ‘Then we can both get on with our lives.’ She paused. ‘Actually, I—I wrote you a letter with my proposals. It’s on the desk in the study.’
‘How very efficient of you,’ he said slowly. ‘You certainly didn’t waste any time.’
‘It seemed to me we’d wasted enough already.’ She forced a smile. ‘And there’s nothing—no one—to keep us together any more.’
He said coldly. ‘I do not need to be reminded of that, thank you.’
She winced. ‘I’m sorry. But you know it’s true.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘We married each other because it was what Lionel wanted, and we made a wretched mess of it all.’ She hesitated. ‘I think he regretted it too.’
‘I know he did.’ Gabriel’s tone was dry.
‘Well, then,’ she prompted.
He got up and went over to the table to pour himself some more coffee.
‘I don’t think we should file for divorce before the funeral,’ he said, without turning. ‘It might look rather pointed.’
She stiffened. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that. And it’s not a joke.’
‘Bloody right, it isn’t,’ he said with sudden violence, and she jumped.
‘You were the one who wanted to talk,’ she said defensively.
‘I did not, however, choose this particular topic of conversation,’ he retorted, returning to his seat. ‘Maybe we should postpone it until we’re both feeling a little less raw.’
Her voice was uncertain. ‘But you said there were things to settle.’
‘About the funeral, mainly.’ His firm lips tightened. ‘One of the reasons I came back today was so that you wouldn’t have to handle things all by yourself.’
‘That was thoughtful of you,’ she said stiffly. ‘I made a list this morning of everything there was to do. Perhaps you’d better look through it and see what I’ve forgotten.’
‘I don’t think I dare,’ he murmured.
‘Gabriel—this isn’t easy for me. Lionel wasn’t just my father-in-law. He was my dearest friend. Whatever our personal feelings, we should—respect his memory and try to work together.’
‘That’s a good speech,’ he approved. ‘Did you think of it all by yourself?’
She got to her feet in one swift, angry movement. ‘Oh, this is impossible. Maybe I’m the one who should move to Midhampton.’
‘No.’ He rose too. ‘No—I apologise. You’re right. We’ve got to shelve our own problems and unite this last time for him. We both owe him that.’
‘Yes.’ Joanna bent her head. ‘It’s been rather a long day. I think I’ll go to bed.’
‘I’ll come up as well, once I’ve seen to the dogs. Do they still sleep in the rear hall?’
Joanna nodded. She’d pleaded tiredness, but she knew she would not sleep. Her stomach was in knots and her pulse-rate was going haywire.
She took the coffee tray back to the kitchen and then went upstairs. Gabriel caught up with her as she reached the gallery.
‘Where have you put me?’ His mouth curled slightly. ‘Not in your room, I’m sure.’
‘That’s hardly likely.’ She felt defensive colour invade her face.
But Gabriel wasn’t looking at her. He’d turned to stare down the length of the gallery to the door which led to the master suite. His voice sounded abrupt—almost remote. ‘And not in there, I hope.’
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I thought for the time being—your old room.’
He was very still, his gaze fixed on the closed door as if nothing else existed in that moment. His face was haggard, suddenly, and the tawny eyes were filled with a pain too deep for words.
The leopard, Joanna thought suddenly, was wounded. No longer the cool, invulnerable conqueror, but someone she wasn’t sure she recognised any more.
She felt her own hurt, her own grief well up inside her in response. Her hand went out to touch his arm. Her lips parted to say his name.
Then a door halfway down the gallery opened and Cynthia came out. She was wearing a white satin dressing gown, and her hair was loose on her shoulders. She had no make-up on and her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying non-stop for hours.
She looked, Joanna thought, about twenty years old.
Cynthia stared at Gabriel, her mouth trembling. ‘I thought I heard your voice,’ she said huskily. ‘Thank God you’ve come. It’s been so awful.’ Her voice broke. ‘So terrible. Oh, Gabriel, darling.’
She ran to him, burying her face in his shoulder, her whole body shaking as she pressed against him. And his arms closed round her, holding her.
It was, Joanna thought dispassionately, a brilliant performance. But somehow she had no desire to see any more of it.
She turned and went into her own room, shutting the door behind her, wishing, as she did so, that she could shut out the image of Gabriel and Cynthia together with equal ease.
And knowing, with heart-chilling certainty, that it was impossible.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_963f6a77-9d7d-5052-85b9-815fc8bea633)
IT WILL all be over soon. Joanna, smiling, shaking hands with departing mourners, heard the words echoing in her head over and over again like a mantra.
It was her own personal act of faith, she thought defiantly. Something to cling to in the ongoing nightmare of the past few days.
