Lucy Gordon - A Convenient Wedding

Jarvis was watching her face, noticing its softer lines in the firelight. ‘Did you remind him that Potts was dead?’ he asked at last.

Meryl shrugged. ‘No chance. He was gone before I could answer.’ She turned to the dogs and crooned lovingly, ‘You stupid, stupid creatures!’ She fondled their heads and kissed them. ‘They’re getting grey. How old are they?’

‘Ten. I had their sire, and his before him.’

‘Then don’t you have any of their offspring lined up to take their place?’

He shrugged. ‘As you say, some dogs can’t be replaced.’

He refilled her glass and they sipped wine together for a moment, neither wanting to break the silence.

Her hair was damp from sea spray and she pulled it down about her shoulders to dry by the fire. It was very long and black and-he had to admit-very beautiful.

Eyes like jade, hair of ebony…

He shut the thought off, impatient with himself for even remembering the legend and the stone inscription. But it was hard not to remember it when Hannah was doing her best to remind him.

And not only Hannah. Somehow the news had spread to his estate on the mainland, and wherever he’d gone today he’d received eager, enquiring looks from his tenants and employees.

Meryl was looking at the portrait over the fire. ‘Who’s that?’

‘My grandfather. He was an army general.’

‘He looks like he’d have been fun to know.’

‘His men didn’t find him fun. He was a terror.’

‘But I’m not a man,’ Meryl pointed out. ‘I’ll bet he was a devil with women. You can see it in his eyes.’

Jarvis was about to protest at this superficial character reading when he recalled Ferdy saying, ‘He was a terrible man for the women,’ on the very day they’d first discussed Meryl Winters, and agreed that the general would have sent her away-but only after tumbling her in the hay.

Now Jarvis wished he hadn’t thought of that, because if ever a woman was made to be tumbled it was this one.

Lord Larne could take his pleasure wherever it pleased him. Over the centuries some Larnes had pleased themselves more than others. The present holder had an innate reserve and caution that made him pass up most of his chances, although he had far more than his title going for him. He had the well set up looks of a man in his prime, and a powerful masculine vitality that made women study him with interest. Just occasionally there was something else to mark him out as General Larne’s grandson, a look of the devil, a hint that if he let down his guard…

But he never did. He couldn’t afford to.

And with this woman, above all, he couldn’t afford to. For a moment he knew something like regret, but he silenced it. He had to keep his head.

MERYL yawned and stretched, leaning back against the chair, then relaxing in an attitude of languid grace. ‘Sarah not here?’ she asked innocently.

‘No, she went home earlier.’

‘That’s a relief,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so afraid of her.’

He gave a crack of laughter. ‘I reckon you can take care of yourself OK.’

‘Reckon I can.’

‘Sarah’s an old friend, and very protective of Larne and its ways. I’m afraid she sees you as an invader.’

Meryl tossed a little grenade at him. ‘No more than you do.’

He winced. ‘Let’s forget that. Little though you might believe it, Larne also has a tradition of hospitality.’

‘Always assuming that you can tell the difference between guests and invaders.’

‘That can be a problem. The castle was built to ward off invasion. The threat was from the north. There was a whole string of castles constructed along the north coast, and Larne was one of them.’

‘But why was it built out in the sea?’

‘It wasn’t. In those days this was part of the land, but it’s been eroded.’

‘You ought to fortify that causeway,’ Meryl mused, ‘before it vanishes altogether.’

‘Yes,’ he said in a voice that was suddenly distant.

She gave him a puzzled look, then illumination dawned. ‘Did I just become an invader again?’

He groaned at himself. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Well, it wasn’t much of an invasion if you had to rescue me from drowning,’ Meryl pointed out. Suddenly she began to laugh.

‘What is it?’

‘I was just thinking of what I must have looked like,’ she choked. ‘Coming to storm the castle and having to be rescued like a drowned rat.’

She lay back and crowed with laughter while he regarded her, fascinated. There was a glow about her that seemed to fill the room, and warmed it more than any fire. For a moment he shed caution and simply delighted in her.

‘Perhaps you should have just left me in the sea,’ Meryl said at last. ‘Then you’d have been quite safe.’

‘I doubt it,’ he said wryly. ‘You’d simply have risen from your watery grave to haunt me.’

‘Probably would,’ she agreed. ‘Serve you right. Anyway, I think I’ll risk being repelled again. Aren’t there organisations that could help you-give grants to preserve the heritage?’

‘Yes, there are, but the kind of money I’d need is beyond them.’ He made a gesture to dismiss the subject, then said, with meaning, ‘I hope Ferdy entertained you well today.’

‘Sure, he’s great. He took me to eat in this little restaurant near the ruined abbey, and pointed out the place where Bram Stoker wrote Dracula. No kidding. Tomorrow he’s going to show me the churchyard, and all the places where it really happened.’

‘It didn’t really happen. It’s fiction.’

‘I know that. But you know what I mean.’

‘Yes, I do. You see England as a kind of glorified theme park. Dracula on the one hand and a medieval castle on the other. What else did you talk about?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know perfectly well what I mean,’ he said, growing distant again. ‘Do I have any secrets left or did Ferdy reveal them all?’

In truth, he had virtually no secrets left. Ferdy was a blabbermouth, but a kindly blabbermouth who’d wanted to do the best for his friend.

‘None of it is Jarvis’s fault,’ he’d confided to Meryl. ‘His father and grandfather both spent money like water, and left Jarvis to clear up the mess. He can’t. It’s too big for one man. But he won’t say a word in criticism of them, even while he’s being slowly crushed to death.’

But Meryl knew better than to repeat any of this.

‘He told me you’re in a bad way,’ she said cautiously, ‘but I knew that already. How much would it take to repair this place and install central heating?’

‘God knows! I never let myself think about it. But there’s more than the castle. There’s a whole estate out there, going deep inland: farmers who are my tenants and need help. There are a dozen schemes I could use to help them if I could afford to.’

‘Then it looks like I’m your best hope. So why are you so much “agin” me?’

‘Because you’re an invader,’ he snapped before he could stop himself. Then, ‘I’m sorry. That was rude.’

‘It was honest. I don’t mind that.’

‘Then I’ll give you another reason. You’re living in a dream world. You have no idea how much this would really cost.’

She shrugged. ‘A few million, I suppose. Pounds, sterling.’

‘And you can afford that?’ he asked ironically.

‘I can once I’m married.’

‘And suppose, when you’ve paid my “price”, you turn out not to have enough money left for yourself?’

Meryl smiled with sheer amusement. It was the smile of a rich woman and it reminded Jarvis that she’d said he ‘couldn’t afford’ to turn her down.

‘You let me worry about that,’ she said. ‘I know how much I’m worth and it’s enough to take care of you and Benedict.’

‘Benedict?’

‘Benedict Steen. He’s a friend of mine in New York. He designs haute couture clothes, and I plan to invest in his business to put him at the top, where he belongs.’

Jarvis stared at her. ‘And is that going to take much?’

‘Ten million,’ she said serenely.

‘Pounds?’

‘Dollars.’

With an abrupt movement Jarvis rose and went to his desk, keeping his face averted so that she shouldn’t see the sudden feeling of revulsion that had swept him. He’d known she was wealthy. Now he understood that she had enough money to march in, take over Larne and change everything to suit herself. Her invasion would be impossible to resist-unless he resisted now.

‘You’ve got it all worked out neatly,’ he said. ‘Too neatly. You haven’t thought it through.’

‘I know what I can afford.’

As though that was the only consideration, he thought savagely.

‘I’m sure you do,’ he said. ‘But you don’t know what you can’t afford.’

She shrugged, lulled into incautiousness by the wine and a feeling of well-being. ‘I’ve never found that yet.’

‘Well, you’ve found it now,’ he grated.

She shook herself awake. ‘I didn’t mean-’

‘I know what you meant. If you’ve finished your supper I’ll escort you upstairs.’

She sighed but didn’t try to argue further. Together they gathered up her parcels and left the Library, heading for the stairs.

‘Jarvis!’ It was Hannah, calling from the kitchen. ‘Can I have a word?’

‘I’m coming,’ he called back. ‘I’ll say goodnight now, then.’

‘Goodnight,’ she said, and went on up the stairs alone.

Once in her room she hung up her new clothes, took a quick shower and donned a wispy lace and satin nightdress. It was low cut, held up by narrow lace straps, and probably not the right attire for this chilly place. But it was better than high-necked flannel, she thought.

She was about to switch off the light when she heard heavy footsteps in the corridor outside. They stopped and there was a long pause. Then the door was flung open with a crash and Jarvis strode into the room, his hands clenched into fists, a look of anger on his face.