Next Door to Romance (5 page)

'Aren't I?' There was something wistful in the way she spoke and Tom seized on it.

'Aren't you sure? Don't you know? Because if that's so, then—'

He was interrupted by the sound of someone—a man —hailing him by name.

'Now what?' Tom demanded in exasperation.

'It's the Rector,' Lisa said anxiously. 'He's actually
running
! Something serious must have happened—'

They hurried towards the Rector who, thanks to stoutness and age, was considerably out of breath.

'Tom, my dear boy,' he gasped. 'Thank goodness I've found you! I was afraid—'

Tom, goaded beyond endurance by the Rector's apparent inability to come to the point, caught him by the arm, and shook it purposefully.

'What's wrong?' he demanded peremptorily.

The Rector, though taken aback at this cavalier treatment, wasted no more time.

'Mrs Bellairs rang through to pass on a message she'd had from the police,' he explained. 'There's been an accident involving a horsebox on the road between here and Ranstead. They want you to see if you can do anything—'

'Oh, confound it,' Tom said wearily. 'Why does everything always have to happen on my one evening off! All right, Rector, I'll come!' And he strode off, leaving Lisa and the Rector behind.

'If you don't mind, Mr Barnes, I'll try to catch him up,' Lisa said, and without waiting for a reply, dashed off after Tom. She had some job in catching him up, and when she did, Tom didn't seem disposed to welcome her.

'I thought perhaps it would be a good idea if I came along too,' she explained, trotting along beside him. 'I might come in useful—'

'Not very likely,' Tom said curtly. 'And anyway, why spoil your evening as well as mine? You have a good time while the going's good! And besides, aren't you on the committee that's looking after the supper arrangements? You can hardly leave them flat, can you?'

'I could—if it was necessary,' Lisa retorted, hurt by his off-hand manner. 'But as you seem to think I'd only be in the way—'

'Oh, for heaven's sake!' Tom burst out. 'Can't you understand? I've just about had it for this evening. By tomorrow I'll probably be ashamed of myself for letting go like this, but just at present—I'd sooner be on my own, at least so far as—' he broke off sharply, but Lisa had no difficulty in finishing the sentence.

'So far as I'm concerned,' she said. 'Yes, all right, Tom. I'm sorry, I should have understood. And don't bother about coming to take me home later on. I'll walk—or possibly someone will give me a lift.'

'I'm sure they will,' Tom said grimly, and strode off to his car.

Lisa watched him go and then went slowly back to the hall. Even now she was in two minds whether she wouldn't go home—

'Rotten luck, that,' said a sympathetic voice from the shadow of the hall porch. 'Particularly as I gather he's a pretty busy chap. Almost as bad as being a doctor—'

It was, of course, Mark Saville, and Lisa had the impression that he must have been standing here some time, waiting for her to come back. It vexed her a little that the cards had so played into his hands—

'It's a thoroughly worthwhile job, and Tom wouldn't be happy doing anything else,' she told him with a hint of asperity in her voice. 'It's only that he was up all night attending a cow and he's tired—' her voice shook a little. Dear old Tom, he
was
tired, but she knew quite well that if she had been able to give him the answer he had wanted, his tiredness would have vanished like dew in the sunshine.

Mark Saville was silent for a moment. Now he'd upset her again—and that was the last thing he wanted to do. And yet he simply didn't know how to tackle the situation. And that wasn't a thing to which he was used! But this girl—well, of course, it was something one told every girl, but in this case it was true—she was different from any other girl he'd ever met. And the difference intrigued him.

He'd been in no doubt but that this morning, if that redheaded chap hadn't been there, he'd have indulged in a little gentle dallying—and this strangely attractive little girl would have responded. Yet now she was on her dignity, and had been all the evening. Perhaps he'd have to change his tactics if he wanted to get anywhere. And, to his own surprise, he quite honestly did. It wasn't just a question of masculine vanity. As far as he was concerned, she'd got something, though for the life of him, he couldn't have said exactly what—

A change of tactics—well, most of the girls he'd known liked to be rushed a bit, but evidently this one didn't. All right, then, he'd see what deference and a slower pace would do!

'You're quite right, it is a worthwhile job,' he said soberly. 'And one that make me wonder if mine is! After all, how can one compare manoeuvring stocks and shares with doing something that really helps other people, human or animal! But there it is. I'm pretty certain, even if I'd had the brains to do the necessary-training, I'd never have the endurance to be a vet!'

He could feel at once that Lisa was appeased. She relaxed and, in the failing light, he could see that her expression had softened.

'Yes, it is a demanding job,' she agreed. 'But—' with a little spurt of amusement, 'Tom always says there's one way in which he's got it better than a doctor has. Animals are never hypochondriacs—which is more than you can say of some human patients!'

Mark laughed appreciatively and stood aside for Lisa to go into the hall. The band was just starting to play an old-fashioned waltz.

'May I have the pleasure?' Mark asked formally, and what reason could Lisa have possibly found for refusing the request?

She quickly found that dancing with Mark was a different matter from dancing with Tom, much as she had always enjoyed that. Nor was it only that Mark was the better dancer. He was so easy to follow that Lisa had the exhilarating feeling that both of them, moved by similar moods, were contributing equally to their smooth performance. Never in all her life had she felt that she was so good a dancer.

And Mark seemed to feel much the same thing, for when the music stopped and he led her off the floor, he said softly:

'That was wonderful! I've never enjoyed a dance so much! Do you think you could possibly spare me another a little later on?'

Well, why not? Goodness knew when Tom would be back if, indeed, he came at all, so why shouldn't she—

The rest of the evening passed like a dream for Lisa. Tom didn't come back, so Mark took over all the dances Lisa had reserved for him, including the all-important supper dance and the last one—

Then, despite her protests that it was quite unnecessary, that her home was really only a stone's throw away, he ran her home in the beautiful white car, and Lisa could have wished that the journey had been longer! Mark had lowered the hood of the car and as she relaxed beside him in the comfortable seat, she could turn back her head and see the stars shining as, surely, they had never shone before. The car's powerful engine was very quiet—a very different sound from that which Tom's utility van made or, for that matter, her own shabby little car.

And yet one knew that the power was there just as one knew that though Mark had taken her warning earlier that evening to heart and had been very careful not to offend again, he wasn't the sort of man who, once knowing what he wanted, would be indefinitely patient. On the contrary, he would sweep one off one's feet—

It was a disturbing thought. Lisa caught her breath. Her heart was beating so turbulently that, surely, her companion must hear it—

He didn't, of course, but he had heard that catch of the breath and, like Lisa, realized that he didn't want this interlude to come to an end.

For, of course, it was no more than an interlude. Mark had laid his plans for the future very carefully, and they didn't include a wife as unsophisticated and inexperienced as this charming little country lass. So, when they reached Lisa's home, he refused, with every sign of reluctance, to come in and meet her parents. To do that, he suspected, was practically the equivalent of making a declaration! So he excused himself.

'I'd just love to,' he said quite sincerely. 'But you see, I am a guest at the Manor, and though the old man didn't mind me going off on my own, I do feel it would be a bit steep if I got back too late.'

'Yes, of course,' Lisa agreed all the more quickly because she didn't want him to guess how disappointed she was. Pride, too, dictated that when he had helped her out of the car, she should hold out her hand and thank him quite charmingly but with just a hint of formality for having brought her home. She wasn't going to give him the chance of thinking she wanted a good-night kiss!

'The pleasure was mine entirely!' Mark said with equal formality, stood there until she had gone into the house and then drove off. Half way back to the Manor he stopped and lit a cigarette—only to pitch it away half smoked.

'Oh, confound it!' he said irritably. 'Why on earth can't one be consistent instead of wanting different things that never, in their very nature, could possibly be compatible!'

He drove the rest of the way to the Manor at breakneck speed, put the car away and prepared to let himself in with the key he'd been provided with. Once in, it didn't surprise him to find that the lights were still on in the somewhat gaunt, marble chequered hall, but he hadn't expected to see light streaming through a half opened door since Mr Cosgrave had made it clear that no one would wait up for him.

'Got to the age when a good night's sleep is one of the most important things in life,' he had explained.

But now, it appeared, someone had after all sat up for him, for he heard a slight sound in the room and went in to investigate. A tall, slim woman, almost as dark as he was, stood up to greet him.

'Evadne!' he held out his hands to her. 'But I thought you weren't coming down this week!'

Evadne Cosgrave's smile was extremely attractive so long as you looked no further than her lips. Her grey eyes rarely revealed any emotion whatever.

'I wasn't, darling,' she said lightly. 'But—a woman's privilege, you know! I changed my mind. Actually, I'd have been here a good deal earlier, but there was a bad crash about a mile or so away and it was some time before they could clear the way.'

'Was that the one where a horsebox was involved?' Mark asked, and Evadne looked at him sharply.

'Yes, it was. But how did you know?'

'The local vet—a redheaded chap—was at the dance. He was called out by telephone, poor devil! His one evening off during the week, apparently.'

'Which left his girl-friend flat, I suppose?' Evadne suggested. 'Bad luck! And how did you enjoy yourself?'

Had she, with that sometimes disconcerting ability of hers to read between the lines, contrived to link him, a man who had gone to the dance without a partner and the girl who had been deprived of hers? He didn't know, and he certainly wasn't going to ask!

'So-so!' he said with a shrug. 'A ghastly floor, of course, a very amateur band and—' he shrugged again, 'just the sort of people you'd expect to find at a village hop! I do wish I'd known you were coming, Evadne! I certainly wouldn't have gone if I'd thought there was the least possibility of it.'

And that was quite true. Evadne very definitely did have a share in his future plans, and he had more than a suspicion that he might perhaps have avoided a lot of possible future complications if he hadn't gone to the dance, and even more, if he hadn't met Lisa. But he had—

'What's the matter with you, Mark?' Evadne asked sharply. 'That's the third time I've asked you the same question!'

'Is it? Sorry!' Mark smiled disarmingly. 'I was up at the crack of dawn this morning taking Herr Schmidt to London Airport before coming on here.'

'Herr Schmidt,' Evadne repeated thoughtfully. 'Mark, do you think Father is going to collaborate with him?'

Mark shook his head.

'I should say it's more a question of whether Herr Schmidt is going to collaborate with your father! But we'll just have to wait and see,' he finished with belated caution. Evadne, he knew, was at least as much in her father's confidence as he himself was, but that was one thing. That he, Mark, should discuss his boss's business with anyone, even Evadne, was something quite different. He changed the subject smoothly. 'But what was it you asked me?'

'Oh, that! I just wondered whether it was your idea or Father's that you should go to that dance,' she said offhandedly as if, after all, she wasn't particularly interested in hearing his reply.

'Oh, a joint effort, I'd say,' Mark explained. 'Your father knows quite well that it isn't always easy for strangers to be accepted in a community of this sort. He told me he thought it would be a good idea if we all—and he was kind enough to include me in that category—were to take an interest in local affairs, particularly social ones. I said that I'd noticed a poster advertising this dance in the lodge windows. Did he mean that sort of thing? It appeared that he did—so I went.'

'I see,' Evadne said reflectively. 'Yes, a good idea —so far as it goes. But it won't go far enough, you know!'

'It will take time, of course,' Mark agreed. 'Your father knows that perfectly well.'

'I expect he does, but I doubt whether he'll be willing to accept the probability that it will take generations of Cosgraves living here for us to be accepted.'

'I expect you're right,' Mark agreed, barely stifling a yawn.

'Of course, I could probably speed things up by marrying a local big-wig,' she went on thoughtfully.

'That's an idea,' Mark replied, suddenly fully awake. He was not sure whether the suggestion had been in the nature of a joke or a warning.

So far, the possibility of Evadne and himself getting married had never been put into so many words, but that they would eventually do so held so many advantages for both of them that he felt reasonably sure it had occurred not only to Evadne but, even more important, to her father. After all, Evadne was the old man's only child. One of these days she'd be a very wealthy woman. And who would be able to take proper care of her money better than the man Simon Cosgrave had trained in his own ways from the first day that Mark had come to him as a young, ignorant but ambitious clerk?