Roberta Leigh - And Then Came Love Read online

  "Oh Matthew, I hope so!" She clasped her hands tight. "I'd like you to know exactly why I changed my mind. It's Adrian, as you guessed." Quickly she told him the whole story, and he heard her out in silence, not commenting until she had finished.

  "Your brother's got no guts. That's his trouble. He's a snob too, and he thinks hard work is only for fools. In my book that makes him the biggest fool-of the lot. If I'd wanted to study music as much as you say he does, nothing would have stopped me. But young Adrian wants everything laid on for him."

  "If you think like that, you won't want to help him."

  "Ill help you," came the answer. "And if you want him to go to the Academy,I’ll foot the bill. I just want you to stop looking at him through rose-coloured glasses."

  "I won't have much chance to wear them with you around!"

  He half smiled. "The day you marry me, I'll settle enough on Adrian to see him through the Academy, and when he leaves I'll give him an income until he can stand on his own feet."

  Too overwhelmed to speak, Stella stood up and impulsively kissed him on the cheek, but a& she went to draw back he pulled her into his arms.

  “I’m not your brother, you know. What about a proper one?" His mouth closed on hers, all the pent-up longing of the weeks away from her evident in his kiss. She drew away, breathless, and he caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. "Stella, sweetheart, I've missed you so! Don't make me wait too long."

  "We've only been engaged a few minutes!"

  "That reminds me;" He delved into his pocket and drew out a small black box. "This is for you."

  "She lifted the lid and a large oval diamond winked up at her like a shining eye. "I've never seen anything so beautiful!"

  He looked at her as she slipped it on. "Does your mother know?"

  "Know what?"

  "About us. I won't ask if she approves, but does she know you're going to marry me?"

  "Not yet."

  "We must tell her as soon as she gets in. Is she having supper at home?"

  "She's dining out."

  "Beg your pardon — dinner! I can see I'll have to mind my language with you."

  "Don't!" she protested. "I'll have to mind so much more! I'm sure I'll say and do things that won't fit in with your way of life, but if you're willing to show me —"

  "I'll show you anything you want. You can do whatever you like as long as you marryme." He looked into her eyes. "I daren't kiss you again or we'll never get out. Let's go and celebrate."

  A heavy mist prevented them going further afield than Knightsbridge, though Matthew still insisted on ordering champagne, and it was considerably later than Stella had, envisaged when they returned to the flat. But despite the lateness Mrs. Percy was still not home and she suggested Matthew leave before her mother came back.

  "She'll be tired and irritable," Stella said. "It will be much better if you see her tomorrow."

  ''You mean you'd rather break the news to her yourself!"

  Stella said nothing and he leaned forward and gently touched his lips to her cheek, the gesture showing, far more than words, that he appreciated the problem she would be facing.

  Only when she was alone did Stella relax, though even this was only momentary, for she knew she could not go to bed until she had spoken to her mother. Unless she did so she would feel too guilty to sleep; more important, the longer she delayed in breaking the news, the more difficult it would become. Drawing a chair close to the fire, she waited. Tune passed slowly and her eyes were drooping with fatigue when her mother came into the room.

  "Good heavens, Stella, you're up late. Anything wrong?"

  "No, I was waiting for you."

  "It's taken me over an hour to get from Cheyne Walk. I waited ages for a taxi."

  "Poor darling. Would you like a hot drink?"

  "I'd love one. I'm freezing." Mrs., Percy sank into an armchair and eased her feet out of her shoes.

  Returning some moments later with a steaming cup of chocolate, Stella found her mother asleep, though the blue veined lids lifted as the cup was set on the table.

  A sip was appreciatively taken. "Hmm, delicious. Aren't you having any?"

  "No. I had a late dinner with Matthew."

  The cup clattered in the saucer. "Don't tell me he’s in town again."

  "I wish you wouldn't use that tone."

  Mrs. Percy ignored the remark. "I thought you weren't going to see him again. It's obvious he's fond of you and it isn't kind to encourage him. It would be better if you refused to go out with him next time he rings up."

  "I can't very well do that We're engaged to be married."

  There was a tense silence. Then Mrs. Percy gave a strained laugh. "You're joking."

  "I'm not I mean it."

  "But you can't! If he's come here pestering you —"

  "He didn't pester me. He asked me to marry him weeks ago and I refused. When I changed my mind I wrote and asked him to come to London."

  "When you changed your —" Mrs. Percy stared at her incredulously. "You must be mad! Does Charles know?"

  "No."

  "Thank heavens you haven't burnt your boats! He need never know you've been such a fool."

  "Mother, please! I'm engaged to Matthew and I've no intention of breaking it off. He's very wealthy — surely that pleases you?"

  "I'm not in the mood for joking. How can you consider marrying a man for his money!"

  "I thought you wanted me to."

  "Not just anyone with money! If you got engaged because of some ridiculous idea of helping us, then the quicker you end it, the better! We've waited so long we can wait a little longer. Adrian's settling down nicely.

  "But he isn't — that's the point. If we let him go on as he is, he'll end up in prison!"

  "You don't know what you're saying!"

  "Unfortunately do. He's involved with a crowd who deal in stolen cars. That's how he's got most of the money he's been spending so freely."

  "You should have told me this before. Adrian's my son and I've a right to know if he's in trouble."

  "What was the point of telling you? You wouldn't have been able to do anything about it The only hope is for him to go to the Academy; and Matthew's promised to see him there."

  Mrs. Percy set her cup down sharply. "It seems that either way I shall have to sacrifice one of my children! If you don't marry this man, Adrian will end up in trouble, and if he has the career he wants, you'll be the one to suffer."

  "I'm not going to suffer. I'm fond of Matthew. I know you don’t like him and I agree we haven't much in common, but he's kind and he wants to make me happy."

  "You haven't a hope of being happy with him! He'll insist on being master in his own home and he's too old for you to change him. You'll have to take him as you find him, manners and all, for the rest of your life."

  Stella sighed. "Aren't you exaggerating? I grant he isn't as polished as the people we're used to, but then he hasn't led the same sort of life. He's made his money instead of inheriting it."

  "Charles has never inherited money, hut he's still a gentleman!"

  "It isn't fair to compare Matthew with Charles — they're different. One's a Yorkshire man and —"

  "Have you thought what that'll mean," her mother interrupted, "or won't you mind burying yourself in Leeds?"

  The tone was so expressive that Stella smiled in spite of herself. "Leeds is in England, you know!"

  "How can you joke about it!"

  Mrs. Percy groped for her handkerchief and began to cry, and Stella knelt by her mother's chair and took her hand. "Please darling, be reasonable. Matthew's a little different but I'm sure we'll be happy. I'm not just marrying him because he can help Adrian."

  "You cant love him!" Mrs. Percy cried even harder. "You're ruining your life and you can't see it You're blind!"

  "I'm not. Believe me, I know what I'm doing."

  "Then your ideas have certainly altered." Mrs. Percy wiped her eyes and straightened up. "There's obviously nothing I
can say to make you change your mind. It's your life and I can't stop you ruining it But if things don't turn out as you hope, don't look to me for sympathy."

  She rose, picked up her handbag and shoes and walked out of the room, leaving Stella alone by the fire.

  CHAPTER SIX

  STELLA was never sure whether Adrian suspected her reason for marrying Matthew, but he went out of his way to be nice to him, making up for her mother's cold unfriendliness.

  She had still not broken the news to Charles, and she invited him to the Sat one evening when Matthew had returned to Leeds.

  She was not surprised at his reaction to the news.

  "Rather sudden, isn't it?" he asked dryly. "I hadn't realized you were capable of f ailing in love so quickly."

  "Oh Charles, don't be bitter!"

  "Do you expect me to jump for joy? I've always been under the impression you were going to marry me! I know I can't support a wife yet, but —"

  "That's just an excuse." Tired of pretence Stella lost her temper. "Lots of couples marry on far less than you earn. What about milkmen or postmen — they don't go on courting for years!"

  "People have different standards. Anyway, I suggested we get married several weeks ago but you —"

  "You didn't mean it. K you had, you wouldn't have let me talk you out of it so easily. Be honest, Charles! If you had really loved me, you would have married me ages ago."

  "Perhaps I loved you too much. I wanted things to be right for us. For us to have a home of our own and —"

  "Having a house doesn't count. It's with whom you live that matters."

  "A pity you never said this before."

  "I was modest," she said bitterly. "It went against my standards!"

  "So now you're dropping them completely!" Instantly he looked discomforted. "I'm sorry, Stella, I

  had no right to say that. I've nothing against Armstrong. He seems a decent chap." Charles picked up his hat and gloves and went to the door, then with uncharacteristic impulsiveness, threw them down and strode back to her. "Break it off, Stella! You're making a mistake. Armstrong's not the man for you. You're too sensitive — too intelligent…"

  "What about my being too selfish?" she retorted. "What makes you think I'm too good for Matthew? What about his being too good for me?"

  "Don't be silly."

  "Why is it silly? How do you think his friends and family will see me? As a spoilt fool who knows nothing about life and can't even begin to understand how hard he's worked!"

  "If that's the way you feel…" Charles went to the door again and she made no move to stop him. "You're making a terrible mistake, Stella. You'll regret jt."

  "Then you'll be able to say 'I told you so!'"

  "I would never gloat," he said quietly. "I love you too much for that."

  Instantly her anger vanished and impulsively she reached out a hand to him. "I'm sorry, Charles, please forgive me."

  "Of course I forgive you."

  The room blurred as her eyes filled with tears, and when she blinked them away, he had gone.

  'It was not until a week before their wedding that Matthew told Stella what their home was like.

  "I'm sorry I haven't any pictures of it to show you, but you'll soon be seeing it for yourself. It's a big place and not much to look at — like me — but it's practical and comfortable, with a couple of acres and a grey stone wall all round. That's where it gets it name — Grey Walls." There was satisfaction in his tone. "It's got a romantic touch that win suit you, sweetheart."

  "How many rooms are there?" Stella asked, for want of something to say.

  "About twelve, apart from staff quarters and such-: like, with a big hall and a grand stairway. That’s what I fell for when I saw the house for the first time. And by heavens, Jess was mad when I bought it just because of that!"

  "Jess?"

  "My sister."

  "I didn't know that was her name."

  "It's Jessica really, but she's always been called Jess. I hope you like her — she's the only family I have." He reached-out a large hand and pulled Stella on to his lap. "At least, she was until I found you. Her husband was killed a few years ago and as she had no children she came back to look after me. Very efficient girl, our Jess — hardly a girl any longer, though it's hard for me to realize it."

  "How old is she?"

  "Forty-two."

  "Somehow I thought she'd be in her fifties."

  "Sometimes she acts like it. Never had much fun out of life, Jess hasn't. She and Tom weren't happy and she was glad to come home. She's a good housekeeper, Stella, you'll learn a tiling or two from her."

  "Will she go on living with us?"

  "Yes, unless you've any objection? But you'll be in charge, and if there are any changes you want to make, just tell her."

  She played with the button on his jacket. "If Jess looks after the house, it won't leave me very much to do."

  "I've bought you a piano," he said casually.

  For the first time her enthusiasm was spontaneous. "What a wonderful present! I dreaded having to leave mine."

  "That's why I got it. Oh Stella, there's so much I want to do for you." He stroked her hair and let the palm of his hand rest on the crown of her head. "I can't think of pretty speeches or say half the things I want to say, but looking at you makes me wish I were a poet" .

  "Nobody's ever said anything nicer to pie than that!"

  Of �her own accord she put her lips on his and he drew her close, his hands moving over her in a persistent caress. Their kiss lengthened and he grew less gentle, his hands so hard against her body that her desire swiftly changed to fear. With a gasp she pulled away from him and stood up.

  "Matthew, don't! I — I'm not used to…" She clenched her hands, unaccountably near to tears.

  "I'm sorry, darling." He stood behind her and encircled her waist. But now there was no passion in his touch, only tenderness. "Don't be afraid of telling me if I frighten you. I'd never do anything to hurt you."

  With an effort she relaxed against him. "It's stupid of me. Forgive me for being so silly."

  During the next few days they were seldom alone together, for Stella left Matthew to make all the arrangements for their wedding and honeymoon. They were to be married at St. Paul's �Church, Knights-, bridge, and after a small family luncheon were flying to Mombassa.

  "I've wanted to see that part of Africa since I was a lad," he explained. "I hope you'll like it."

  "It sounds wonderful. I haven't been abroad for years."

  "Next year we can go on a cruise. That's the best way of seeing a lot of places in one go."

  'I’d hate that."

  "It's the only way I could do it. I can never get away for more than a couple of weeks at a time."

  "Then there's no point being rich," she retorted.

  He grinned. "You're not wrong there, lass. To begin with you make money so that you can do all the things you want, then when you've got it, you have too many responsibilities to leave "them!"

  She laughed. "A worried millionaire!"

  "I'd be more worried if I weren't!" He looked at the travel folder in his hand. "It would have suited me to go to a quiet village somewhere, only I thought you'd prefer a bit more glamour."

  Stella was touched. "You're so thoughtful and kind."

  "Only to you, lass. My friends would have a fit if they heard me talk like this. I hope you like them — my friends, I mean. They're plain people, but good."

  "If they're like you, I'm sure I’ll like them."

  He took out a cigarette and she held out her hand for one. "No, lass, you smoke too much."�

  "Bossing me even before we're married!" she joked, and reaching out, took a cigarette from a box on the table. "I'll just have one."

  He leaned across and removed the cigarette from her lips. "Play for me, instead, I haven't heard you for weeks."

  "That's not my fault. You've been so busy dashing between London and Leeds that I've hardly seen you."


  "There's quite a bit to do, one way and the other. We'll be away a month and there's some trouble at one of the factories I'd like to settle before we go."

  "What sort of trouble?"

  "A strike threat. But don't bother your pretty head about it. When I'm with you I want to forget business. Give us a bit of music."

  The phraseology jarred, but she strove to ignore it. "Anything in particular?"

  He hummed a few bars. "What about that? I don't know what it's called, but it's one of my favourites."

  "Clair de Lune."

  Her hands moved over the keys in Debussy's haunting melody and Matthew sat back and watched her with pride, enjoying the lovely picture she made in the pale room with the dark piano forming a black-and-white background to the vivid garnet of her dress. Stella played almost without thinking, her eyes bent over the keyboard, her expression serious as she drifted from 'Clair de Lune' into 'Greensleeves,' running through the words in her mind as she struck the notes.

  'Alas, my love, you do me wrong

  To cast me off discourteously,

  For I have loved you so long,

  Delighting in your company.'

  Unbidden, the thought of Charles came into her mind. He had loved her long and delighted in her company, but his delight had been so tame that she had felt it was indeed no more than discourtesy to have cast him off.

  'For oh! Greensleeves is my delight

  And oh, Greensleeves is all my joy,

  And oh! Greensleeves is my heart of gold,

  My lovely Lady Greensleeves.'

  Now she was to be Matthew's delight, all his joy, his heart of gold.

  The last note died away and .she turned and looked at him. He had fallen asleep, his head resting against the cushion, his arms hanging limply at his sides'. With a smile she moved over and looked at him. He must be tired after the effort of trying to finish so much work in such a short time. This marriage meant a great deal to him — he had waited so long before taking a wife that he deserved much more than she could offer. Gently sh6 touched his hair, turned off the light and tiptoed out of the room.

  Stella married Matthew early one raw morning in February with only Adrian and her mother as witnesses.

  As Matthew repeated his vows his deep voice faltered, and for the first time she understood the depth of his feeling for her. It was strange that he should give rise to such different emotions in her — one moment affection, the next irritation. Perhaps when they were alone together, when she was no longer conscious of Adrian's speculative amusement and her mother's acid disparagement, they would, reach a real understanding.