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‘You don’t have to,’ Jane said robustly. ‘Anyone’s entitled to change her mind, and it’s far better to do it before you’re married than afterwards.’ It was her turn to pause. ‘And, actually, I was never Nigel’s greatest fan.’
Amanda stared at her. ‘But you never said anything,’ she protested.
Jane shrugged. ‘What could I say? You seemed so knocked out by him that I didn’t think you’d listen, and anyway, it was none of my business.’ She grimaced drolly. ‘Maggie’s Tim doesn’t inspire me with admiration, either.’
Amanda smiled wryly. ‘I’m not surprised.’
‘And I thought your Malory handled her very well the other night,’ Jane went on. ‘She was being terribly aggressive, and he was polite, but remote’ She slanted a look at Amanda. ‘He’s not an easy man to get to know, is he?’
‘No,’ Amanda agreed, her voice colourless. ‘Do you think I need more blusher?’
Jane inspected her minutely. ‘Not a scrap. You look really good. Have a nice party, and a lovely weekend. You’re going home, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, straight from the party.’ Amanda picked up the pleated cape that matched her dress, and put it round her shoulders. Going to the cottage was a decision which had been pretty much forced on her. She’d had a week of reproachful phone calls from her mother, and had bowed to their pressure, even though she knew Mrs Conroy still hadn’t forgiven her for breaking off with Nigel, and the resulting publicity.
‘Another reporter rang up only yesterday,’ had been Mrs Conroy’s parting shot. ‘Asking if you and that man had set the date yet. I told him I hadn’t the least idea.’
Amanda had been left staring in a startled way at the receiver. The newspapers weren’t ready yet to relinquish their grip on the story, it seemed, and this depressed her.
As she drove with Malory to the big country hotel where the dinner dance was being held, she said abruptly, ‘The press have been on to my mother, asking when we’re going to be married.‘
‘They phoned me, too.’ He didn’t seem perturbed, she noted crossly.
‘So, what did you tell them?’
‘That we were making no announcement at present.‘ He paused. ’That seemed to cover a variety of possibilities.‘
‘I suppose so.’ Amanda sighed. ‘I hoped they’d have decided to leave us alone by now’
He said drily, ‘How very optimistic’ He slanted a glance at her. ‘Are you really so desperate to be free of all this?’
‘Of course. I want to find another job—build a new life for myself.’ She knew she sounded defensive. ‘Isn’t that natural?’
‘Perfectly. But I’m afraid, for the time being, you’ll just have to be patient.’ He sounded bored. ‘In fact, we both will.’
Amanda said a subdued, ‘Yes,’ and relapsed into silence.
He was in an odd mood this evening, she thought, stealing a covert, sideways glance at him. He’d adher dress, but courteously, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. Perhaps he was tired, too, of all this pretence, and longing to return to normality, and his civilised, rather solitary existence.
Or perhaps, she thought later, he’d merely been thinking what lay in store for them that evening.
Her mouth ached with smiling, and her fingers were sore from some of the over-enthusiastic handshaking she’d been subjected to as she stood at Malory’s side in the receiving line. And the worst of it was, everyone seemed so genuinely pleased for them both, unstinting in their good wishes.
He has no right to put me through all this, Amanda fulminated silently.
She glanced up and saw him watching her, his gaze ironic, as if he’d guessed what she was thinking. And, of course, he had every right. After all, she had created this entire mess single-handed. She’d involved him in the kind of notoriety he most abhorred. The least she could do was stand by him tonight.
She bit her lip. And for as long as it took…
She could comfort herself with the reflection that she was looking good. She could see it in the eyes of the men she was introduced to. They envied Malory, and the knowledge warmed her. It occurred to her that, when she’d been out with Nigel, she’d been the one who was envied.
And she seemed to be passing muster with the women, too. She’d overheard a snatch of converin the powder-room.
‘It seemed so unlike him,’ someone was saying to a friend. ‘But she’s lovely looking, isn’t she? You can understand him losing his head over her.’
The friend’s reply was indistinguishable, but seemed to be in broad agreement.
