Perchance to Marry (4 page)

Sally got nervously to her feet. “You expect a good deal in return for the favor in Barcelona, don’t you? Even if I were willing to deceive my mother, she wouldn’t believe in an engagement between us.”

He pushed up from his seat and looked at her, quizzically. “You don’t know Viola very well. She was young in the flapper age and she hasn’t grown out of it She’s a little feather-brained, naive and very dependent, and I’m sure that deep down she still believes in fairies. She collapsed after your father’s death because she’s never quite accepted the unpalatable realities of life, and after a while, inevitably, she came to lean on you instead. She doesn’t find it at all difficult to believe in the things that keep life smooth and pleasant. That’s why she was so keen to come to San Palos from the first moment I mentioned it.”

“You think she’d regard this ... this phoney engagement that way?”

“I’m pretty sure of it. She’ll think, “How nice—he’s a wee bit old for my Sally, but quite a catch.” And without any mercenary intentions she’ll congratulate herself on having got to know me so well on the ship that she’ll now have an assured home in a good climate. I like Viola—she amuses me and rouses the protective instinct—but you have to admit she’s not deep. You must take after your father.”

He had got Viola off fairly pat, and as well as one or two other things, it irritated Sally. She began to walk along the path, hoping he would let her go, but he strode lazily at her side without attempting to continue the conversation. She felt him flick something from her hair—a peach-flower petal, perhaps—and the action somehow tightened the little spring that seemed coiled in her chest. There was plenty of sun-warmed air, but she found it difficult to breathe.

They were quite some way from the house, among scented shrubs and cypress trees, when she said huskily, “It all comes back to Dona Inez, doesn’t it? Some time you’ll have to tell her the truth.”

“Carlos will decide when, but I’d say she should be strong enough to bear it about a month from the attack.”

“That’s three weeks from now. And my mother? You know so much about her that no doubt you can tell me exactly how she’ll react to losing the good match as a son-in-law!”

“Why don’t you relax?” he said mildly. “This thing might almost be fun if you’d get the right slant on it. Before we end the engagement I’ll have Viola established in some business down in Naval Town. She’ll be regretful but understanding. Take my word for it.”

“And she’ll never know she’s been paid for my part in the deception!”

He stopped and made her face him. ‘“I won’t have that attitude,” he said roughly. “I had every intention of setting up Viola in some sort of business before this other thing was even in the air, and you know it. It seems to me that you’re letting your fright run away with you. The details of this affair can remain a secret between you and me. We’ll admit Carlos if we have to, but that’s all. Get one thing straight—
you’ll
emerge the victor, I won’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just this. The fact of the engagement naturally implies a
proposal of marriage from me to you, but its termination will show that you’ve turned me down.” His teeth snapped. “Believe me, that’s not a situation I care for very much!”

Sally suddenly knew why and it made her angry again. He really had gone to England to marry a fiancée; she knew no more than that, but it was enough.

She said slowly, “If we’d both tried to convince the McCartney man the other night this need never have happened.”

“Convince him of what?” asked Marcus distinctly. “That you weren’t just emerging from my cabin looking sleepy and tousled and wearing a dressing gown?”

Sally went white, her eyes were huge. “Is that ... did he...?”

“I don’t know what he thought, and if you’ll agree to this arrangement I won’t care, either. As gossip, the item becomes rather a damp squib if we’re supposed to be on the verge of getting married.”

She shook her head despondently. “All this has built up so quickly that I’m far too muddled to work it out. I don’t seem to have any option but to do as you ask.”

“No, I don’t think you have, so we’ll consider it settled, shall we? And seeing that our hearts are likely to remain more or less intact, we’ll go into it blithely and try to get a private kick out of it.”

“I’m afraid I’m not that kind.”

His glance was keen, but he said mockingly, “I’ll make a
bargain with you. When we agree to break off the engagement I’ll give you whatever you want most. Got any ideas?”

She said dispiritedly, “All I’ve ever wanted is to be a
good nurse ... and perhaps to marry when I’m about twenty-five.”

“They’re both attainable. On the day we part company as fiancés I’ll introduce you to every eligible young man in Naval Town.”

Sally was not called upon to answer this. There came a
cry from the distant courtyard and both began to walk quickly towards the steps. One of the servants was leaning over the courtyard wall, smiling and gesticulating.

“The
senora
is awake and wishes to see you, Don Marcus. She says she cannot wait!”

“I’ll come!”

Sally drew back from the hand he had lifted to her elbow. “I’ll stay out here for a while longer. Please, Marcus.”

“All right, but don’t start tiring yourself with worry. I’ll arrange that you see Dona Inez during the evening for just two minutes.” He gave her arm a friendly squeeze and strode on. No doubt he mounted the steps at a long lope, but Sally didn’t linger to watch. She followed the paths through the cypress trees until she couldn’t see the house at all, and then she stopped and sank down on to the grass.

She lay back and closed her eyes, felt coins of warmth from the dappled sunlight and heard the sweet note of a bird near by. Sally ached all over, and wondered why. Perhaps because the worst of the tension was over for a while, leaving her flat and exhausted.

She thought of the gracious Spanish house, with its courtyard and palms, its roses and magnolias, bougainvillias, oleanders and massed beds of exotic flowers; of the vineyards that spread across the hillsides and the little houses where the grape farmers reared their large, healthy families. They rented their farms, and Marcus bought their grapes and turned them into the sparkling amber wine for which the island was famous. And somewhere beyond Las Vinas there were acres of budding lilacs; in two weeks, Marcus had informed them on the taxi ride, the blossoms would be full enough for picking and pressing; San Palos lilac essence was one of the rarest genuine perfumes in the world.

And she was engaged to the owner of all this. Engaged for three whole weeks—what do you think of that? Her heart felt like a ball of lead at the end of a plumbline and there was a raw salty feeling in her throat. Now it seemed as if she would not survive one day of the deception, let alone three weeks. It was absurd that she, nineteen-year-old Sally Sheppard, should be the intended bride of Marcus Durant, who was thirty-two, rich and experienced. No doubt Marcus himself had reflected, with wry amusement, that he might have been luckier in the two women he had befriended; a more motherly and serious mother, and a daughter who was fledged and fairly sophisticated would have done nicely. Still, one couldn’t order up one’s complications; they happened, and a man made the best of them.

To Marcus, the next few weeks would be simply a
period to be lived through and forgotten. To keep his aged and ailing grandmother happy he would have gone to greater lengths, no doubt. He saw the whole thing in terms of the old lady’s health.

And that was the way she, Sally, would have to view it. She must place the present precarious state of Dona Inez’s health a long way above her own happiness and modest ambitions. Looked at that way, the frightening situation might be just bearable.

It was quite some time before Sally stirred herself to go back to the house. She went into her large airy bedroom, slipped off her frock and washed in the adjoining bathroom. She got into a blue figured linen, pushed a wave or two into the soft honey-pale hair and used a little make-up.

When she returned to the courtyard her mother was there, talking animatedly with the woman who had wheeled out a shimmering tray of silver tea ware. The servant was smiling and nodding her head, and when she saw Sally the smile became softer.

Looking at both English women, she said, “This is a
wonderful day for us all.
Maravilloso
!” And her shoes whispered away across the flagstones.

“Now isn’t that touching?” Viola appealed to Sally. “I always thought Latin servants were awfully dour, but these make one feel wanted and important. I wonder if they make good tea though. That huge silver pot looks heavy. Will you pour, dear?”

Sally poured. Her mother sat near the wall and looked towards the trees. She was wearing a soft cream silk that made her appear young and prematurely grey, and the matching shoes, with their pointed toes and spiky heels, emphasized the slender neatness of her ankles and calves. As usual she wore no rings but her wedding ring, and her only other adornment was a small gold blob in each ear. Dressed simply, Viola always carried a look of distinction which even the lavender rinse left intact. Sometimes she made Sally feel inadequate.

Viola said, “There are several acres of gardens—did you know that? And we’re only one mile from the nearest beach. Not that I care for beaches, but I do like to look at the sea sometimes, and the Mediterranean is quite as blue as one hopes, isn’t it? What have you been doing this afternoon? That woman said you’d been in the garden for a long time with Marcus.”

“Yes, I was. Dona Inez woke up and he was called indoors.”

“I suppose he’s still with her.” Viola frowned anxiously. “I do hope I shan’t have to see the old lady. Old people make me shiver, even rich ones.”

Sally smiled faintly. “I think you may be spared. It’s unlikely that she’ll be allowed visitors.”

“And we’re strangers to her,” Viola comforted herself. “Aren’t you glad now that we bought half a dozen new frocks each? Marcus has several friends who have villas along the coast, and even if he can’t entertain here because of the grandmother they’re bound to invite us to their houses. And of course the staff at Naval Town will have social events. Did you hear the real names of Naval Town and Naval Bay? Quite unpronounceable, so you can’t blame the Navy for giving them their own nicknames. Sally,” turning upon her a sudden scrutiny, “what
has
been happening to you? You look ... doped!”

“It’s the sun,” said Sally. “Would you like some more tea?”

It was always easy to divert Viola, but that moment of awareness in her mother made Sally careful. She spoke of the intense blue of the sky, of the yellow butterflies—fancy, butterflies in March! of the peace and warmth and the lengthening shadows.

The tea-things were taken away, the sun slipped out of sight and cooler air displaced the warmth, so that the ancient Sealyham shivered and plodded indoors. A clock in the house chimed six, and a distant bell sent a peal of music through the hills. And then Marcus came out.

He had changed into light slacks and a dark shirt which made him look foreign and handsome. He came and sat down near the table, stretched an indolent leg and smiled.

“Sorry you had to have tea alone on your first day, but I naturally had to have mine with Dona Inez. Haven’t been bored, have you?”

“Certainly not,” said Viola at once. “And how is your grandmother?”

“She can’t talk much—it tires her. But she got in a few questions.” He switched from the topic. “I’ve ordered wine out here. It’s a little early, but as this is a special occasion I thought we’d open a bottle of our own best vintage.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Marcus. Arriving here today has been almost like being feted. I haven’t felt so wanted since...” her voice quivered easily, but it remained quite bright, “well, for some time. You couldn’t have been kinder if we were relations.”

“It’s not kindness but selfishness, because I like having you here,” he said smoothly. “And I’d like to think we’re going to be related, too.”

“You would?” she said, mystified. “Do you mean in the business sense?”

“Here’s the wine,” said Sally swiftly.

Marcus thanked the servant, leaned forward and twisted the white-capped bottle in its nest of ice. He said pleasantly, “You’re rather young to be my mother-in-law, Viola, but it’s the way things sometimes happen. Will you mind?”

His casualness stunned Sally. It almost stunned Viola; she sat right back in her chair and gazed at him with limpid blue eyes, and then turned the gaze upon Sally, who was scarlet and averted.

“This isn’t a joke, is it?” she queried. There was a moment of tense silence before Viola exclaimed, “You’ve kept it so dark!” And the moment was past.

Marcus was smiling, and uncorking the bottle. “I didn’t want Sally to tell you herself. We only decided finally this afternoon.”

“Finally?” echoed Viola. “Then you were more than friendly on the ship? It all seems so very sudden. Marcus, did you feel drawn to Sally from the beginning? Was that why you made me promise to write to you from Barcelona? I shouldn’t probe into your affairs, I suppose, but really...” She paused, at a loss, then laughed, a little helplessly. “I didn’t even know you were interested in each other that way. I quite felt there were possibilities between Sally and that dear boy who played the piano, but you, Marcus! Sally told me herself that you made her feel uneasy when you danced with her. Was that when you first ... no! It’s not my business.”