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She’d come an awful long way since those early days when she’d written him off as some kind of neuter, she realised ruefully, as she let herself into the house by the side door. And living here with him, sharing a roof but nothing else, was becoming increasingly painful with every day that passed.
It wasn’t as if he was unkind, or dismissive with her. He was just polite and eternally, impenetrably aloof, making it clearer than any direct statement that she no longer held the least physical interest for him.
And that was something she would have to learn, somehow, to endure.
Mrs Priddy met her in the kitchen passage, full of the direst forebodings about the caterers hired for that evening. Amanda reassured her about their reliability and walked on into the utility room, where the flowers for the evening were awaiting her attention. She didn’t consider she was particularly artistic, but arranging flowers was one of her great pleasures, and spring flowers in particular were her favourites.
She spent a happy couple of hours experimenting with various containers, then began to carry the results of her labours through to the dining-room and drawing-room.
She was putting some finishing touches to one arrangement, and was too absorbed to be aware she was no longer alone until Nigel’s voice said behind her, ‘How very charming. You have all kinds of hidden talents, sweetie.’
Amanda cried out, whirling round, her hand pressed to her hammering heart. He was standing there, smiling, looking her over with that slow, sexy surveillance which had always had the power to set her pulses racing.
She steadied her voice. ‘How—how did you get in here?’
‘Not very welcoming, sister-in-law, dear’ he chided. I’m not barred from the house, am I? Old Mal hasn’t issued an injunction forbidding me to cross his sacred threshold?‘
She disregarded that. ‘You startled me. I didn’t hear the doorbell.’
‘I didn’t ring it.’ Nigel gestured towards the french windows. ‘I came across the gardens, and let myself in that way. I am family, after all.’ He paused. ‘Aren’t you just the tiniest bit pleased to see me?’
She’d wondered often and often what her reaction would be when she saw Nigel again, and now she knew. She felt numb.
She said, ‘Why have you come here?’
‘To offer my congratulations to the newly-weds.’ He smiled at her. ‘I suppose I could hardly have expected an invitation to the wedding, under the circumstances. But I’m quite prepared to let bygones be bygones and contribute a wedding present. Although I’m not sure what you give the man who has everything,’ he added, giving his surroundings an appraising stare before switching back to Amanda. ‘Including, of course, my woman.’
She bit her lip. ‘I think it would be better if you left.’
Nigel tutted. ‘All this hospitality,’ he remarked, looking at the floral displays. ‘And none for me. What’s the matter, darling? Suffering from a touch of the might-have-beens?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Just rather busy, that’s all.’
He laughed. ‘Found your métier, have you— sitting at Malory’s table—spending his money?
Makes up, does it, for having to let him maul you about once in a while?‘
‘I said—get out’ Amanda could feel her fingers curling into claws. ‘If you want to visit here, please do so when Malory’s at home’
Thus speaks the virtuous little wife,‘ he mocked. ’Dullness must be catching, sweetie. You wouldn’t have said that before Mal put his boring seal on you.‘
Hot angry colour invaded Amanda’s face. ‘I think you’ve insulted him enough,’ she said. ‘Now, will you go, or do I have to call George?’
He flung up his hands in mock surrender. ‘OK. I’ll leave quietly’ He moved back towards the french windows. ‘Want to see me safely off the premises—check my pockets for the family silver?’
Unwillingly, she followed. From now on, she thought, she would keep the french windows locked.
Nigel stepped out into the garden, then turned to look at her.
‘You’ve changed,’ he said softly, ‘but it’s all on the surface, isn’t it, Manda? Under the rich wife gloss, you’re still the girl I love’ His hand closed with startling suddenness on her wrist, drawing her towards him, pulling her against his body. ‘Think about this, darling, next time you’re lying underneath old Mal, wondering if he’d notice if you went to sleep’ He bent his head, and his mouth fastened on hers, hotly and greedily.
For a moment, she tensed to struggle, to push him away. But to fight would be to accord him some kind of victory, she realised, would make his as-sault on her mouth seem more important than it was. And she didn’t want to give him even that much satisfaction.
