What a Man Wills Part 6

Juliet made an expressive little grimace.

"Considered as an artistic effort, I can't say much for it. You might have done so much better. Clare! I'm not a bit like a Clare. And who is Clare _supposed_ to be?"

He looked at her with a keen, comprehensive glance. Juliet had an impression that what he saw increased his embarra.s.sment, from the very reason of his admiration. What he had to say would evidently have been easier if she had been less attractive, had not so obviously belonged to his own cla.s.s. The flush mounted once more to his cheeks.

"Miss Lawson, I should like to begin with a word of self-defence. I have the reputation of being straight in my dealings and I think I may say that it is deserved, yet at this moment, owing to an--impulse, to-- er--the folly of a moment, I find myself stranded, implicated--how shall I express it? I'm in the d.i.c.kens of a hole, anyway, and for the moment can't imagine how I am ever to get out."

"And if you only knew it, _so am I_!" was Juliet's mental reflection. Aloud, she said sententiously, "Such things _do_ happen.

I've heard of them. Please tell me about it. Perhaps I can help."

"That's ripping of you! You see, obviously, there _had_ to be a girl, and, obviously also, I couldn't ask a friend. There was nothing for it but to get someone from outside. I searched the newspapers and spotted your office. They said they employed ladies, and being trained to detec--to inquiry work, I thought it would come easy to act a part."

In after years Juliet never quite understood how she retained her balance at that moment, and did not topple sideways, fall out of the high cart, and find a solution of her troubles. The sudden realisation that she was masquerading as nothing more or less than a lady detective, was so stunning in its unexpectedness and chagrin, that even the tactful softening of the term to that of inquiry agent failed to restore her equanimity. Now, indeed, there was nothing before her but confession, for her whole nature revolted from the position of a "spy" in the household. It required a strong effort to speak in a natural voice.

"Wouldn't it be better if you began at the beginning and told me the whole story?"

"That's what I am trying to do, but it's so difficult... The Squire, Mr Maplestone, is my uncle. He and his wife have been like parents to me. I am in the army--Indian regiment--home on a year's leave. They have no children, and I am their heir. Naturally, under the circ.u.mstances, they are anxious that I should--er--"

"Marry!"

"Quite so. Well!" in a tone of aggrieved self-vindication, "I _mean_ to marry. Every fellow does when he gets past thirty. I came home this time with the determination to get engaged at the first opportunity, but--er--the time has pa.s.sed by, and--it hasn't come off. I've met lots of girls, charming girls. I can't honestly say that I haven't had the _opportunity_, but when it came to the point"--he shrugged again--"I simply didn't want them, and that was the end of the matter. The d.i.c.kens of it is, my leave is up in two months from now, and the old man is at the end of his patience. Last week he had an attack of gout, a bad one too, and that brought matters to a crisis. He declared he'd cut me off there and then if I did not get engaged at once. I was sorry for the old fellow; he was in horrible pain; the doctor said he must be soothed at all costs, so--er--er--on the spur of the moment I invented Clare. I said I was engaged to Clare, but that Clare was afraid of the Indian climate, and refused to marry me till the regiment returned home, two years from now. I hardly realised what I was saying. I was between the devil and the deep sea. But he swallowed it whole, went off to sleep, and woke up as bright as a b.u.t.ton. I was inclined to congratulate myself on having done a clever thing, for as I told you, I _intend_ to marry. I am only waiting for the right girl to turn up. I may very likely meet her on the voyage out. Many men do. But, retribution fell upon me. He demanded to see Clare. I prevaricated.

He grew suspicious. There was another scene, another relapse; it was a case of confessing all, at goodness knows what risk, or of finding Clare, and producing her for inspection. So--you see--"

Juliet sat silent; petrified, aflame. While he had been speaking, Maplestone had kept his eyes rigorously averted from her face; he continued to do so now, and they drove along the quiet lane in a silence which could be _felt_--a throbbing, palpitating, scorching silence, which grew momentarily more unendurable. Juliet told herself fiercely that she was a fool to feel embarra.s.sed. Alice White would not have been embarra.s.sed. Alice White would have accepted the position as a pure matter of business. As Alice White's subst.i.tute, she must pull herself together and discuss the matter in a cool, rational fashion. If only her cheeks were not quite so hot!

"It's--er--rather an unusual proposition, isn't it? It is, as you say, somewhat difficult to discuss. Suppose," she cried desperately, "we treat it with a sense of humour! _Don't_ let us be serious. Let us laugh over it, and then it will become quite easy."

"Oh, thank you, yes. How ripping of you!" His eyes flashed relief. "I can promise you that it won't be nearly as trying as it sounds. The old people will be all that is kind, and--er--you understand that he is an invalid, and his wife is his nurse. They are engrossed with their own affairs, and won't worry you with questions. It is only in your supposed connection with me that you will--er--enter into their lives.

As to myself, I have the reputation of being reserved to a fault. They won't expect me to--er--er--"

Juliet forced a determined smile. "Precisely so! We'll be a model of all that an engaged couple--ought to be. But I had better not make myself too agreeable, in case the subsequent breaking off should prejudice the old people against you. I conclude I am to break it off?"

"Yes, please, if you don't mind--when I meet the real girl. But please do me credit _pro tem_. The great thing is to demonstrate to the old man that I seriously think of marriage, and those two years give plenty of time. You understand that you have an insuperable objection to the Indian climate?"

"Certainly; that's easy. I've always longed to go, so I shall just turn my arguments upside down. And--er--where did we meet?"

"Oh, yes, of course, we must have some mutual coaching. There's not much time now, but after tea they'll expect us to have a _tete-a-tete_; we'll go over it then. I was introduced to you at Henley. You're the sister of Phil Lawson, an old school friend. It--er--it was a case at first sight. We got engaged on the third day."

"Most unwise!" said Juliet primly, and they laughed together with the heartiness born of relief from a painful situation. Really, this sense-of-humour att.i.tude was an admirable solution.

Antony slackened the reins and, fumbling in a pocket, drew out a small box.

"May I--just for the next few days--beg your acceptance of this bauble?"

"Oh, thank you." Juliet drew off her gloves and held up a well-shaped hand, on the third finger of which sparkled a row of diamonds. "It's not necessary. I can put this one on my left hand. It has quite an engagementy look about it, and I'd rather--"

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it won't do. This is a family heirloom. The old man would consider it a slight if it were not used. Just for one week."

He opened the box, and showed a great square-cut emerald set in a border of diamonds--an antique jewel, evidently of considerable value--lifted it between finger and thumb, and held it out with calm expectancy.

Quite calmly also, Juliet extended her left hand; but at the mutual touch, it was impossible to resist a thrill of embarra.s.sment, a lightning realisation of what the moment might have meant had the action been real instead of masquerade. Juliet hastily drew on her gloves; Antony became engrossed in driving. They drove in silence up a long drive, and saw before them an old stone mansion, covered with cl.u.s.tering ivy.

The butler stared, the footman stared. Raising her eyes as she pa.s.sed under the great well of the staircase, Juliet caught the flash of a white cap hurriedly withdrawn. A baize door, obviously leading into the servants' quarters, creaked eloquently upon its hinges. The back of Antony's neck grew ever redder and redder as he led the way onwards; finally the drawing-room door was flung open, and across a s.p.a.ce of chintz, and tapestry, and ma.s.sed-up roses, Juliet beheld two figures rise hurriedly in welcome.

The aunt's thin locks were parted in the middle, and surmounted by a lace cap with a lavender bow. She wore a douce black silk dress, with a douce lace collar. She looked Victorian, and downtrodden, and meek, and Juliet dismissed her in half a dozen words.

"She'll swallow anything!"

The Squire had a short neck, a red face, steel blue eyes, and a white waistcoat. He stood about five feet four in his boots and bore himself with the air of a giant.

"He'll swallow _nothing_!" was Juliet's second diagnosis, and she braced herself for the fray. The introduction was simple in the extreme.

"This is Clare!" said Antony, whereupon Mrs Maplestone said hurriedly: "How d'you do. So pleased! You must have tea!" and the Squire said nothing at all, but cleared his throat, and pulled forward a chair.

Then they all sat down, and Mrs Maplestone busied herself over the tea-tray, while her husband took his turn to stare.

He began at Juliet's feet, and considered them judiciously. Large, but well shaped, wore a good boot. Next he studied her hands, c.o.c.king a jealous eye at the emerald ring. Large again, but white; good fingers; manicured nails. Thirdly he considered her figure, and was pleased to approve. Pine girl, some flesh on her bones, none of your modern skeletons. Last of all he looked at her face. "Humph! not so bad.

Points; distinctly points! Antony was not such a fool as he looked!"

In five minutes' time the Squire could have pa.s.sed an examination on the subject of Juliet's appearance, and she realised as much, and felt correspondingly elated when the hard eyes softened, and an offer of hot scones was prefaced by, "My dear." My dear had been examined and found correct. My dear was approved. By the time that cups were filled for the second time, the Squire had thawed to the point of jocularity.

"Well, Miss Clare, and what tales has this fine fellow been telling you about me? Wicked uncle, eh? Cruel ogre. Gouty old tartar, who insists upon having his own way, and bullies his unfortunate nephew till he is obliged to give in for the sake of peace? That's it, eh? That's what he told you."

Juliet looked across at Antony, discovered him flushed, frowning, supremely uncomfortable, and tilted her head with a charming audacity.

"Does that mean that he was bullied into having Me? It wouldn't be exactly 'peaceful' for him, if I believed that! He certainly would not dare to tell me anything so unflattering."

The Squire hastened to eat his words. The girl was a nice girl; frank, friendly, with a touch of the devil which was entirely to his taste.

Not for the world would he prejudice her against the boy.

"No, no; not at all, not at all. Precious little notice he took of my wishes, until it suited himself to follow my advice. Obstinate fellow, you know; obstinate as a mule. Wouldn't think it to see him sitting there, looking as if he couldn't say boo to a goose; but it's a fact.

You'll find it out another day!"

"I like a man to have a strong will," Juliet said with the air of a meek, gentle, little fiancee, and the Squire laughed loudly, and made a characteristic change of front.

"Glad to hear it! Glad you don't go in for any of this fashionable nonsense about independence and equality. You obey your husband, my dear, and stay quietly in your home, and content yourself with your house duties, as your mother did before you. What has _she_ got to say about this precious engagement?"

"Mother thinks of me. She is glad of anything that makes me happy,"

Juliet said, and flattered herself that she had rounded the corner rather neatly. Antony looked at her quickly, and as quickly looked away. Little Mrs Maplestone gave a soft murmur of approval.

"She must be, dear! I am sure she must be and I'm sure she'll like Antony when she knows him better. I hope we shall soon meet your parents. It was through your brother that you met, was it not? An old school friend. At Henley?"

"Yes, Henley. Yes, Phil! Please don't ask me about it! The whole thing was such a rush. Only three days! It seems like a dream. I--I forget everything but the one great fact!" cried Juliet, taking refuge in truth, and thereby winning smiles of approval from her old-fashioned hearers, who considered such confusion suitable and becoming. They beamed upon her, and Juliet began to feel the dawnings of pride in her own diplomacy. She was getting on well; surprisingly well! She allowed herself to believe that Alice White could have done no better.

"Three days, eh?" repeated the Squire complacently. "Bowled him over in three days, did you, after being bullet-proof all these years! How in the world did you manage to do it?"

"I can't think!" declared Juliet, truthfully again, but she smiled as she spoke, and showed a dimple, and dropped her eyelids, so that the dark lashes rested on the pink of her cheeks, whereat the young man looked more embarra.s.sed than ever, and the old one laughed till he choked, and offered her more cake, and called her "my dear" twice over in a single sentence, and delivered himself of the opinion that Antony was a lucky dog.

"Doesn't deserve it, after all his slackness and procrastination! Let's hope he'll appreciate his good luck. But what's this nonsense about waiting two years? What's this nonsense about not going back with him at once?"