Marriage On The Agenda
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The road they were on was narrow, and there was on-coming traffic. Pulling half-onto the wet, deserted pavement, Jonathan made room, and a second later the ambulance went racing past on its errand of mercy.
Impressed by his presence of mind, she glanced at him. His face was calm, unperturbed.
Intercepting her glance, he gave her a sidelong smile that quickened her pulse-rate and made her feel suddenly breathless.
A moment later they had regained the road and were continuing their journey. By now they were on the outskirts of town, and the downpour was continuing unabated. Rain beat against the windscreen and even at their fastest speed the wipers had a job to keep it clear.
As they reached a crossroads and turned right it occurred to Loris, belatedly, that she had given him no directions and he had asked for none.
Wondering how, being from the States, he knew the way, she queried, ‘Are you familiar with this part of the world?’
‘I was born and brought up quite near Paddleham.’
‘Really? Then your parents were English?’
‘My father, a hard-working GP, was English while my mother, who was an airline stewardess until she married, came from Albany.’
‘The capital of New York State?’
‘That’s right. Her parents owned a small business there.’
To Loris, the details of his modest background seemed at odds with his cultured voice.
‘Have you lived in the US long?’ she asked, wanting to know more about him.
‘For several years now.’
She thought he was going to leave it at that, when he added, ‘After my father died my mother got homesick for her birthplace and went back to Albany.’
‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘One sister. When she left university she married the son of a local landowner. But there was nothing to keep me here, so I spent some time travelling, trying my hand at various jobs, before I made up my mind to settle in the States.’
His answers had been easy enough, but when he volunteered no further information, afraid of sounding nosy, she relapsed into silence.
Once the suburbs had been left behind them, from being unpleasant, the journey became positively hazardous. The country roads were dark and muddy, littered with snapped-off branches and storm debris.
In the bright tunnel made by their headlights Loris could see that a lot of the verges were partially flooded, and though Jonathan drove with care their nearside wheels almost constantly threw up a wave of water.
Just before they reached their destination a swollen stream that had overflowed its banks, and covered the low-lying road to what he estimated was an unnavigable depth, made a detour necessary. Feeling guilty at having dragged him so far on such a terrible night, Loris was seriously wishing she had plumped for a hotel.
‘I’m sorry about all this,’ she apologised.
Sounding quite unconcerned, he said, ‘You mean the conditions? Don’t worry—I’ve driven in a great deal worse.’
A few more minutes and they were passing through the dark and sleeping village of Paddleham. An occasional streetlamp lit up the driving rain, and strung high across the roadway a saturated banner announcing a St Valentine’s dance at the village hall flapped dementedly in the wind.
The Yew Tree came into sight, its inn sign swinging on the supporting chains. ‘We’re almost there,’ Loris said, making no attempt to hide her relief. ‘Just past the church there’s a turning off to the left, then about half a mile down the lane, also on the left, you’ll see the entrance to Monkswood. The gates should be open.’
The black and gold wrought-iron gates were open wide, and the Tarmacked drive was well-lit. Several sleek cars were parked on the paved apron in front of the house.
Jonathan drew up beneath the ornate lantern that hung over the porticoed entrance and, leaving the engine running, came round to help Loris out.
She couldn’t fail to notice that, parked between a Porsche and a Mercedes, the ordinary little car looked out of place.
Key in hand, she had opened the door by the time he had retrieved her case. A chandelier in the hall, and one at the top of the grand staircase, had been left on, but the rest of the house was dark and still.
‘I can’t thank you enough for bringing me,’ she said, as he handed over her case.
‘It was my pleasure.’ Briskly, he added, ‘Well, everyone seems to be in bed, so I’ll say goodnight and let you join them.’
As though her subconscious had already decided, she found herself saying, ‘Please, won’t you stay? I’d hate to think of you having to drive all the way back to town on a night like this.’
‘I wouldn’t want to put you to so much trouble.’
‘It’s the very least I can do. And it really is no trouble. Do stay. You can have Mark’s room.’
Though he never moved a muscle, Loris sensed his surprise. Obviously he’d presumed that she and Mark shared a room.
‘In that case I’ll be happy to.’
Crossing to the car, he switched off the engine and doused the lights before joining her in the hall and relieving her of her case once more.
When she had closed the door behind him, and shot the heavy bolts, she turned and led the way up the richly carpeted stairs and through a decorative archway to the right.
‘This is my room.’ Taking her case from him, she put it inside before crossing the wide corridor to open a door opposite. ‘And this is Mark’s.’
Switching on the lights, she led the way into a comfortably furnished bedroom decorated in masculine colours of blue and grey.
‘He doesn’t leave clothes here, so I’m afraid I can’t offer you any pyjamas.’
‘That’s all right.’ Jonathan smiled. ‘I don’t use them.’
Feeling her colour rise, she said hastily, ‘But you should find a new toothbrush and everything else you need in the bathroom cabinet.’
‘Thank you.’
A thought struck her, and she added regretfully, ‘Except a shaver, that is. I’m sorry.’