Page 33 of Master of Comus


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Emilie flushed and made no answer. Klaus looked as enigmatic as ever, but Leonie had a faint quiver of intuition as she met his grey eyes. She suspected that Diane's spitefulness towards his wife did not pass him by, and that Klaus resented it deeply, however little he showed it.

She barely, had time to exchange a comforting smile with Emilie before Diane had whisked her on to the second couple, who had risen from a sofa to shake hands.

'Two of our American friends,' said Diane. 'Doris and Carl Nieman. They're from Chicago.' The sentence sounded like an accusation, unsoftened by a smile.

Doris was elaborately coiffured and dressed, her birdlike slenderness enhanced by green silk which clung where it touched. The bright brown eyes held warmth and the handshake confirmed it. Leonie felt immediate rapport with her. Carl Nieman was in middle age, his wide shoulders and slim waist demonstrating a physical fitness which did him credit. He, too, grinned with real friendliness as he shook hands.

'So you're the girl Paul finally picked! Well, I hand it to him. He's some picker!'

'Now, don't start giving away too many of my secrets,' Paul said lightly. 'We're still in the honeymoon stage, remember. Leonie has yet to discover much about my wicked past.'

Carl studied Leonie's face with narrowed eyes. 'I guess you needn't worry, Paul. Your wife looks like a mature personality to me. She'll take any dreadful revelations in her Stride.'

'Thanks for the vote of confidence,' Leonie said, smiling at him.

Diane waved a hand at the third couple. 'Jean- Claud and Anna St Just—sister and brother, not husband and wife, by the way.'

Jean-Claud was a wiry, vibrant young man with black hair, black eyes, a deeply tanned olive skin and flashing white teeth which he revealed as he smiled at her and murmured a greeting. 'We have all been consumed with curiosity to see you since we heard of Paul's marriage. At first, we could not believe our ears, you understand. It was so sudden, so unexpected! But now, meeting you, I understand very well.' His slanting dark eyes, faun-like under their thin brows, flattered her.

She laughed. 'Thank you, that was a very nice compliment.'

His sister was a quiet, dark girl with her brother's colouring but none of his personality. She said nothing as she shook hands, merely smiling, with a reserve in her face which was not unfriendly but coolly withdrawn. She was, Leonie guessed, the sort of person who does not jump into friendship but waits cautiously before committing herself.

'A drink before dinner,' George Irvine invited, indicating the collection of decanters and bottles on an occasional table. 'What about you, Madame Caprel? Sherry? Sweet or dry?'

She accepted a glass and said 'Please, do call me Leonie ... everyone .. .' turning to include the rest of the guests in the plea.

'An enchanting name,' Jean-Claud said enthusiastically.

'Thank you.'

The door opened and the maid appeared, announcing quietly, 'Monsieur Tennyson...'

Paul swung on his heel to face the door, his face hardening in anger. Watching him, Leonie saw his eyes flash in narrowed accusation at Diane, saw her blue eyes shine back at him in pretended innocence.

'Jake, darling!' Diane advanced to kiss the newcomer, smiling sweetly.

Jake looked at her with a grin of indulgent amusement. 'Diane. How kind of you to invite me. He glanced at Paul over her shoulder. 'Surprised to see me, Paul?'

'Very,' said Paul coldly. 'I thought you had left for London by the afternoon flight—as I suggested.' The words were uttered deliberately, their menace unconcealed.

'Diane persuaded me to Stay,' said Jake, his smile growing mocking. 'She wanted me to be here for the

party.'

The two men visibly crossed swords. Jake lounged easily, his bearing impressively unaffected by Paul's naked hostility. The other guests were looking faintly puzzled, faintly alarmed.

Paul stared at Diane. 'Wasn't that thoughtful of her?' His tone was barbed.

She hooked a hand through Jake's arm and drew him towards Leonie. 'But of course you are the only one of us who has met Leonie before, aren't you, Jake?' Her laughter was soft. 'Do you know,' she added, half turning towards the others, 'Jake actually mistook Leonie for one of Paul's little dolly birds? He went to the flat and found a pretty girl en deshabille, so naturally leapt to the obvious conclusion.' Her smile slid back to Jake. 'Jake was so Struck by her that he was wondering how long it would take him to steal her from Paul, only to find, poor Jake, that Paul had actually married this one!' Hot-cheeked, Leonie turned away blindly towards the door, blundering into Paul's shoulder. He caught her, his arm clasping her around the shoulders. Above her head his voice said icily, 'We all make mistakes, Diane. Some worse than Others.' The tone was full of tightly reined fury.

George Irvine slowly stood up. 'Time we went in to dinner,' he said in his calm English voice. 'My dear, your arm...' He firmly took hold of Diane and walked away with her to the door. The other guests followed like sheep. Soon only Paul and

Leonie remained, facing Jake.

'So Diane finally went too far,' Jake said lightly. He shrugged. 'D'you want me to leave, Paul?

'You had no business repeating that story to Diane,' Paul said. 'You have embarrassed my wife and exposed her to Diane's spite.

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