He bent suddenly and laid his cheek against hers, not kissing her but just staying like that for a moment. When he said her name on a quick shaken breath, she pushed him away.
“You can’t, you can’t! It wouldn’t be fair!”
“To me, or to you?”
“To you of course!”
“Thank you, I can look after myself. We’re not driving a bargain, you know. We’re talking about getting married-to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death us do part. And that’s quite a different sort of thing. It means there are two of you to take whatever comes along, and if they are bad times there are two of you to take them on, and if they are good times, there are two of you to share them. It’s not a matter of being fair or unfair. I’m in it up to my neck, and all you can do about it is to stay high and dry on the bank yourself. Only I warn you I shall never stop trying to pull you in.”
She said with something between a sob and a laugh, “Oh, I’m in all right,” and felt his arms close about her. There were no more words. She put up her face and they kissed, and it was the happiest, most natural thing in the world. It was like coming home after you have been out in the wind and the rain. It was like a fire-lit room when you have been cold for a long, long time. It was like food when you are hungry, and water to quench your thirst.
He became aware that his face was wet with her tears. He said,
“Rosamond, why are you crying? It’s all over-there’s nothing to cry about now.”
“That’s why-”
“My darling idiot!”
“Yes-I am rather. There hasn’t been anyone-for such a long time-” She was groping for a handkerchief and not being very successful.
“Here-have mine.”
It was large and dry and clean. Tears were all very well in one of Gloria Gilmore’s books, but in real life they made a sight of you and you had to blow your nose.
“Better now?”
She stuffed the handkerchief down into the pocket of the old tweed coat. He could just see the movement of her head which meant “Yes.”
“Well, my sweet, that being that, suppose we get down to brass tacks. You’re not the sort that faints when you have a shock, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Because it would be damned inconvenient, and the ground is sure to be wet.”
“Craig-what is it?”
“Well, nothing much-nothing to get the jitters about anyway. It’s just that I want you to marry me tomorrow.”
It wasn’t a shock at all-it just fitted in. But she heard herself say,
“We couldn’t!”
“Darling, that’s where you make a mistake. I went to see my uncle’s solicitor in Melbury yesterday morning and got all the low-down. I am of age, you are of age, and the registrar has to have one clear day’s notice. I went on to see him, and we can get married tomorrow morning at half past ten. We can have a church wedding afterwards if you want to. It takes a bit longer, which is why I plumped for the registrar.”
“Craig-”
“Darling, you had better let me do the talking. I’ve been getting steadily more enraged every day since I first came down here. You are not only being overworked and bullied, but there are all sorts of things going on in the background. Two people have disappeared in this village. One of them has certainly been murdered, and the other probably. Jenny gets out and wanders about in the middle of the night. And now Miss Crewe wants to pack her off to a school no one knows anything about. As things are, she would have public opinion on her side, and you can’t fight her alone. I’ve got no standing and I couldn’t do a thing, but once we were married it would be a very different pair of shoes. Miss Crewe isn’t Jenny’s guardian or anything like that, I take it?”
“Oh, no.”
“Then we can just take her and go, and nobody can say a word about it. But we can’t do anything until I’ve got the legal right to take you away. I won’t rush you afterwards, and I don’t want to rush you now, but you must give me the right to look after you both. Once I’ve got that, it’s all plain sailing. Rosamond, I’ve got to get you away!”
She had walked in the wood so many times and been solaced there. Now all at once it was a cold and desolate place. She wanted to be where there were lights and people. She wanted to be anywhere in the world away from Crewe House, and from Lydia Crewe. She couldn’t look after Jenny by herself, but Craig would look after them both.
CHAPTER 28
At about half past two on that same afternoon Nicholas looked up from the plan he was drawing. Howard, who was Mr. Burlington’s secretary and whom he didn’t much like, had come noiselessly between him and the light. As the scale to which he was working was a very small one and demanded absolute accuracy, he was annoyed, and showed it. Super secretaries who oiled around and suddenly sprang themselves upon you could hardly expect to be popular. Howard was not only not popular, he was detested. He looked down his long sallow nose and said, “Mr. Burlington would like to see you, Cunningham,” and stood waiting with rather the air of a warder for Nicholas to get to his feet. He did not, however, accompany him any farther than the door of Mr. Burlington’s private room, where he withdrew in a disapproving manner, leaving him to go in alone.
The room was a small and pleasant one. Successive mistresses of Dalling Grange had made music or sat to their embroidery where the light came slanting in through three tall windows.
They had been hung with brocaded curtains then, now they were bare. The pale green panelling had a dusty look. Two serviceable rugs took the place of the delicate carpet which, with most of the furniture, had gone to the sale room, giving place to an office desk, book-cases, filing cabinets, and some rather utilitarian chairs.
Mr. Burlington sat at the desk-a thin man with a quick frown and a sharp tongue. He had brains, or he wouldn’t be sitting in that chair. That was about as far as Nicholas had ever felt inclined to go in his favour. He said abruptly,
“Come in and shut the door!”
As Nicholas complied he was aware that there was a second person present. He had been looking out of the window. He turned round now and came forward. It had really been quite easy not to notice him. He was of medium height and medium build. He wore pale rimmed glasses, and his general colouring might have been described as protective-thin, fine hair of a mousy shade; the most ordinary of features; the least noticeable of clothes. Mr. Burlington turned to him and said,
“This is Nicholas Cunningham. I am going to ask him to give you his own account of the interview I had with him this morning.”
Nicholas found this on the chilling side. He concluded that the indeterminate gentleman must be an Important Person. Even a Very Important Person. He felt that he had been named to him rather more as the accused is named in court than in the way of a social introduction.
Still shrouded in anonymity, the Important Person sat down. Nicholas was invited to sit down. He took a chair which had obviously been placed for him and faced the light from those long unshaded windows. Mr. Burlington said,
“Now, Cunningham-”
“I don’t quite know where you want me to begin, sir.”
Mr. Burlington frowned.
“I want you to repeat what passed between us this morning from the moment that you came into this room and shut the door behind you. What did you say, and what did you do?”