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Maggie tried to concentrate on what he was saying to her.
‘Told me to see you about it this morning, did Mr Marcus. Always likes to walk along the border first thing on a fine summer’s morning. Knows a lot about plants, does Mr Marcus.’
Yes, Marcus had always loved that part of the garden. Her heart gave a painful wrench as she remembered the number of times she had sneaked out early to waylay him on his early-morning walk. She would have thought that, in view of his accident, he would have chosen to abandon it for a few months. As she remembered what Anna had told her about his fall, she felt faint again, and put out a hand to touch the comforting warmth of the kitchen wall to steady herself.
‘I know the kitchen garden’s in
a bit of a state,’ she agreed when she felt reasonably confident that her voice wouldn’t betray her. ‘But if it could be cleaned up, I thought we might be able to make some use of it. The girls might find it interesting to grow their own vegetables.’
‘Well, if it’s just cleaning you want…’ He scratched his head. ‘I suppose if I put some of my lads on to it, we could have half of it ready for autumn planting… Course, the fruit bushes will have to come out and be replaced…and then it will need manuring…cheaper to buy your veg from the market come market day,’ he said warningly. ‘Mind you,’ he added judiciously, ‘can’t say as I don’t prefer ’em home-grown myself. So we’ll have half of it cleared in time for the autumn, and then we should have the rest ready for spring…and if you give me a bit of warning, I dare say my lads will look to your plantings should yon girls not be as interested as you wish. Everyone likes gardening when it’s like this,’ he added, looking up at the sun. ‘But when it’s cold and wet… Well, then, that’s a different kettle of fish entirely.’
She had yet to meet a gardener who was anything but lugubrious, Maggie reflected tiredly after he had left her. Any other time she would have enjoyed her encounter with him, but this morning she had just not been in the mood. She had far too much on her mind.
When she eventually went inside, she was only half surprised to discover that she was physically shaking. The plans she had made with such optimism only a very short time ago were now as alien to her as though she’d had no part in their formulation at all.
She stared at the groceries she had brought back from the market as though she had never seen them before. What on earth had possessed her to put herself in such danger? Had she honestly thought that she could defy fate? Had she genuinely believed that her feelings for Marcus would disappear like morning mist in the heat of the summer sun?
She shook her head tiredly. Did it really matter now whether it had been folly or ignorance which had brought her here? Here she was, and here she would have to stay. She gave a tiny shudder which had nothing to do with the coolness of the kitchen after the heat of the courtyard. There were things she ought to be doing, but somehow or other she simply couldn’t summon the energy to do them. All she really wanted to do was to hide herself away from reality and the rest of the world, and most of all from Marcus’s far too sharp eyes.
She had been torn to shreds once on the cruel sharpness of Marcus’s too penetrating scrutiny. It might have been ten years ago, but the memory of how he had looked at her then was still sharp enough to bring another shudder to her body.
She couldn’t just sit here staring into space, her senses warned her. She must get up; do something. Her attention was caught by the vegetables heaped in the middle of the deal table. There was meat as well—fresh lamb cutlets. She felt rather like someone who had jumped into shallow water, only to discover it was fathoms deep. She had plunged unaware into those shocking, icy depths, and now, slowly and painfully, she was making her way back to the surface. By the time Anna eventually walked back into the kitchen, laden down with bundles of files, the atmosphere was rich with the scent of cooking meat. She sniffed appreciatively and then grimaced, patting her hips.
‘Salad for me tonight, unfortunately. When my husband’s away on business I try to do a bit of dieting.’ She glanced enviously at Maggie’s slim figure. ‘You don’t look as though you’ve ever had a weight problem,’ she commented.
‘Not really,’ Maggie agreed, not telling her that when she had first gone to London she had been so thin and her appetite so poor that John Philips had threatened to take her himself to the doctor unless she started eating better. It was only years later that she’d realised how close she had come to being a victim of the slimmer’s disease, anorexia nervosa.
These days she normally ate sensibly and well, but it didn’t take much to make her lose her appetite. Right now, for instance, the very smell of the meat cooking was enough to make her feel quite nauseous.
She was planning to make a lamb casserole delicately flavoured with herbs. It was one which had been a favourite of her uncle’s, and was almost one of the first dishes that Marcus’s mother had taught her to cook. Her hand trembled slightly as she paused in chopping up herbs.
‘You still look rather pale,’ Anna commented, looking at her curiously. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ Maggie assured her lightly. ‘It’s just the sun. Last summer the weather was so poor that I suppose we’re not used to it.’
‘Mmm. Well, let’s hope a good meal will have a mellowing effect on Marcus’s temper,’ Anna commented drily. ‘He certainly seems to be in a foul mood at the moment.’ She made a face. ‘I thought men were supposed to mellow once they got engaged.’
Maggie’s hand was shaking so much, she had to put the knife down.
Don’t talk to me about Marcus. Don’t tell me about his engagement to someone else. It hurts too much, she cried out inside, but of course the words remained unspoken. How could she speak them? How could she do anything other than bend her head and hope that Anna was putting her lack of comment down to the face that she was engrossed in what she was doing.
‘Of course, I know he’s still suffering a lot of pain,’ Anna continued, apparently oblivious to Maggie’s rigid back and downbent head. ‘And the doctor’s already forecasting that there’s going to be a certain degree of residual lack of flexibility in the muscles.’
The knife clattered on to the floor, making a sharp noise as Maggie jerked upright. As both women bent to retrieve it, Anna looked directly at her.
‘He’s going through a very hard time at the moment,’ she said quietly. ‘Try to be patient with him, won’t you? You’re what he needs.’
Maggie blenched, the hand holding the knife going bone-white as she fought to resist the emotional impact of what Anna was saying to her. Of course, the other woman had no idea of her real feelings. No idea at all of the torment she was inflicting upon her.
‘Isobel might be a glamour-puss, but something tells me she’s not exactly a soothing influence on a man when he isn’t feeling at his best. She has been spoiled and indulged all her life, and I rather think she’s finding it heavy-going having an invalid as a fiancé. Marcus isn’t exactly the kind of man who’d dance attendance on a woman at the best of times, and then of course, I suppose it’s only natural that both of them must be suffering from a certain degree of sexual frustration,’ she said frankly.
Maggie expelled her breath in a small betraying hiss as she fought to control her expression.
‘Of course, they haven’t actually been living together,’ Anna continued, completely obliviously. ‘Life being what it is nowadays, I presume that they must already be lovers. I can see that Marcus might have considered holding back in view of his position of responsibility towards the girls, but Isobel now—well…’ she told Maggie grimly, ‘I doubt very much if that young lady ever waited for anything that she wanted in her life, and I’m quite certain she’s never even thought of considering anyone else’s feelings or emotions.’
Maggie couldn’t say a word. She was being tortured by the shocking clarity with which her mind was already picturing Marcus and Isobel together embracing as lovers.
‘Oh, dear, I’m afraid I’m letting my tongue run away with me,’ Anna said ruefully, mistaking her silence for disapproval. ‘Please don’t misunderstand me. I wasn’t gossiping. It’s just that I’m very fond of Marcus. I’ve worked with him for the last five years and I respect him, not just as a boss but as a man as well. In fact,’ she added with a rich chuckle, ‘if I wasn’t so well married to my Peter I think I might be in danger of joining my emancipated sisters and consider the attractions of taking a younger man as a lover. It’s been very hard for him, these last few weeks since the accident,’ she added in a quieter tone, ‘and Isobel hasn’t been any help to him at all, apart from nagging him to send the girls off to boarding-school.
