This, indeed, was the background for which Jarvis Lecker was looking. And to get a wife who was not only ‘county’ but also beautiful, well-known, and titled, was almost more than even the most grasping millionaire could expect from fortune.
‘We are all in clover!’ Char told herself gleefully, for she thought astutely that the Priory could do with money being spent on it and that Mona would not be averse to spending it.
When she had changed her shoes and combed her hair, she went downstairs. Mona was waiting for her in the sitting room.
“Mother’s getting the tea,” she said. “I hope you found everything you wanted upstairs?”
“Everything, thank you,” Char replied. “It is nice to see you again, Mona. You haven’t altered.”
“A few added years. I expect if you look for them you will find my grey hairs beginning to sprout.”
She spoke lightly but she was ill at ease, moving restlessly as she talked, not looking directly at Char but into the fire. Finally, with an effort, she brought out the words as if they could choke her.
“Char, I’d be grateful if you’d not talk about my cousin Lionel in front of Mother. She feels his death and there is no need to refer to it.”
Char chuckled to herself. Outwardly she said suavely,
“No, of course I won’t and anyway, I always think condolences are unnecessary and rather grim. I only mentioned it to you knowing how upset you would be.”
Mona accepted this in silence, then she jumped to her feet.
“I can hear Mother with the tea-tray,” she said. She moved forward to open the door of the room.
It was after tea that Char began talking about Jarvis Lecker.
“You don’t mind if I ask him over?” she asked Mrs. Vale. “He’s a brilliant man and in charge of this factory the other side of Bedford. He’s very anxious to come out and meet you. Now when would it suit you for him to come?”
“What about lunch tomorrow?” Mrs. Vale suggested. “If you are quite certain he won’t mind the very simple way we live.”
“That will be delightful,” Char said. “You’ll like him, Mona, he’s clever.” She got to her feet. “You don’t mind if I telephone him now? I might catch him before he leaves the office.”
“Yes, of course, please do,” Mrs. Vale replied, and Mona showed Char where the telephone was in the little study off the hall.
She came back into the room and said to her mother in a low voice,
“Why did you ask him to lunch? Tea would have done quite as well and we’d have got rid of him quicker.”
“But, darling, he sounds a very interesting man. It would be nice for you to meet someone new and amusing. It’s been rather dull for you here this past month.”
“It hasn’t,” Mona protested. “I’ve loved it. I don’t want new people, strange people, coming here.”
“Now you mustn’t let yourself get into a rut,” Mrs. Vale said, reaching over and patting her daughter’s hand.
‘She’s doing it for me,’ Mona thought, and found it difficult to put her dislike and distrust into words. She was uneasily aware that Char was up to something but wasn’t quite certain what. Yet what could she say? It was impossible to argue with Char once she had determined to get her own way – one could only accept it and let her go ahead, and yet Mona had a curious reluctance to let Char insinuate her friends into the house.
It was bad enough to wonder how much she knew, how dangerous she was – but to have her friends forced upon them, to allow her to hoodwink her mother with grandiloquent phrases about cleverness and brains was too much! Mona had the feeling that she was being rapidly caught into a web, which was spinning round her so finely that it was quite impossible to see it or feel it, but which, when it was complete, would be strong enough to imprison, if not to destroy her.
She was afraid and her fear lay chiefly in the fact that there was nothing tangible of which to be afraid. Char came back. She was looking pleased. Mona knew that expression well, it was the one she wore when she had made money on a lucky coup.
“He’s delighted,” she said purringly. “He’ll be over tomorrow at one o’clock.”
“He can’t be working very hard,” Mona remarked, feeling inwardly resentful, “or he wouldn’t be able to get away for luncheon.”
“This is an exceptional occasion,” Char replied. “You’ll like him, I know you will.”
Mona found herself without words, but something within her shivered and she turned away from what she feared to see in Char’s glittering, triumphant eyes.
Thirteen
There was the sound of laughter and of many voices as Bates threw open the door and announced,
“Lady Carsdale, Mrs. Strathwyn and Mr. Lecker.”
The great sitting room at the Park was a festive sight, festooned with streamers, holly and mistletoe and filled with a company of laughing, dancing and chattering people. The Land Girls out of uniform were cheery in brightly coloured dancing-frocks, their hair waved and set for the occasion, their feet – usually hidden in thick, cumbersome boots – now wearing the neatest and trimmest of dancing sandals.
Michael was doing his party on a grand scale, Mona thought, as she saw through the open door a cocktail bar and a buffet. She and her small party were late, as they had been forced to wait for Jarvis Lecker, and all Little Cobble seemed to have arrived before them. There was Dorothy Howlett, looking flushed and exhilarated by the unexpected excitement of the occasion, dancing with a burly major in the Pioneers. There was Lynn Archer, surrounded, as might have been expected, by young officers from her husband’s aerodrome, and standing alone, scrutinizing the throng as if in search of some misdemeanour, was Mrs. Gunther.
Michael came limping across the room.
“I thought you had forsaken me,” he said reproachfully. “You promised to be here early.”
“I’m sorry, but it couldn’t be helped,” Mona replied.
“You know Char, I think, and Mr. Jarvis Lecker – Major Merrill.”
The two men shook hands and Mona was aware of the contrast between them. In other surroundings Jarvis Lecker might have appeared fairly good-looking, but beside Michael any attractions he might have claimed were lost. He was too short and there was something slightly coarse about his thick neck and heavily set body. Whatever Michael’s faults, Mona realised that even his worst enemy could not call him undistinguished, and despite a tentative effort at loyalty she felt slightly ashamed of her companions.
She caught Mrs. Windlesham’s eye across the room and moved towards her. Michael’s aunt held out both hands in welcome.
