Читать книгу When Enemies Marry - Lindsay Armstrong, Lindsay Armstrong - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS Sasha, who else, who broke the news on Sunday morning.

She came into the veranda room where everyone was lounging around comfortably just prior to getting ready to leave, still commenting on the great dinner party last night and lovely day they’d had yesterday, and she said into a lull in the conversation, ‘Justin, there’s a child handcuffed to a fence outside. He says Lucy did it and that she threatened to shoot him.’

Everyone sat up with wide eyes and turned to Lucy.

‘Oh,’ she swallowed, ‘that’s Adrian. He’s only been there for about ten minutes. I...’ She stopped and blushed bright red.

Incredibly, it was Justin who came to her rescue. ‘What’s he done now?’ he said resignedly, and added for everyone’s benefit, ‘Adrian is the son of our cook, Shirley—a great cook, I’m sure you’ll all agree.’

Lucy stared at him open-mouthed but he murmured gently, ‘Tell us, Lucy, otherwise people will think you’re some sort of a monster.’

‘He...’ Lucy licked her lips. ‘Yesterday he handcuffed me to the towel rail in the kitchen. Um—one of his uncles is a policeman and he gave him this set. Fortunately his mother came to the rescue—eventually... And today,’ she said hastily, ‘he actually picked the lock of the gun cupboard—I caught him at it but of course luckily we keep the ammunition in a safe and I didn’t threaten to shoot him... but in light of the fact that he laid waste every tomato plant in the vegetable garden yesterday, lit a fire in the chicken shed and downed all the washing on the line in the duck pond, I thought some of his own medicine might be good for him... You knew!’ she said to Justin. ‘All the time you knew.’

‘Not all the time. Where are the keys? I’ll...let him out on parole.’

But a combination of all sorts of factors worked powerfully in Lucy and she was deaf to discretion. ‘How could you?’ she accused. ‘Of all the low-down things! To let me go on pretending...oh!’ She ground her teeth. ‘I hate you, Justin Waite, you’re the most arrogant, self-opinionated man I’ve ever met and that’s only some of the things I hate about you.’

The silence was electric but Justin laughed, as if he was really amused. ‘Well, we nearly made it,’ he said obliquely. ‘Sorry, friends, but Lucy has had a traumatic weekend, haven’t you, my love? I’m sure you only need to apologise, though. To them, not necessarily to me,’ he added, and his eyes mocked her.

Lucy glanced round, flinched visibly as no one’s eyes quite met hers, then became aware of an agitated murmuring she was coming to know well behind her. She dug into the pocket of her jeans and removed a set of keys. ‘Here you are, Shirley,’ she said swinging round. ‘He hasn’t been there long and if I were you I’d confiscate those handcuffs—they’re more of a temptation than some people can bear. I am sorry,’ she said contritely, swinging back. ‘I’ve been short-staffed this weekend and I have an unfortunate temper, apparently. I do hope you’ll all forgive me.’

She lay on her bed with her eyes closed but knew it was Justin when she heard the door open and close. She’d heard the plane take off about half an hour earlier but she’d made her farewells—she winced as she thought of it—from the house.

What caused her to open her eyes was the sagging of the other side of her double bed, and she saw before she closed them again that, not content with sitting, he’d stretched out with his hands behind his head. He also said, ‘You’re not sulking, are you, Lucy?’

She sat up abruptly and crossed her legs. ‘No. I’m still angry as a matter of fact, so if you’ve come to lecture me you’re wasting your time.’

‘The thought never crossed my mind,’ he murmured.

She frowned then turned to him. ‘Aren’t you—angry?’

‘Do I look it?’

She hesitated because in fact he looked perfectly relaxed and at home and there was only a sort of bland query in his eyes. ‘I—there are times when I don’t understand you, Justin,’ she said at last.

‘That’s rather obvious.’

‘I mean, I’ve just done the one thing you didn’t want me to do: discomfited our guests in other words—yet you—’

‘They were on their way out, but go on.’

She breathed deeply. ‘All right. I displayed sentiments not exactly common to new brides, I’m sure; I probably gave them cause to wonder whether I wasn’t round the bend, handcuffing children to fences! Isn’t that enough?’

‘And all without even trying.’ He smiled unexpectedly. ‘Are you so annoyed because you feel its sheer spontaneity robbed it of malice aforethought and robbed you therefore of some satisfaction?’

Lucy bit her lip.

‘As for my—low actions, what actually happened was that I knew something was up so I bearded a lady I thought must be Mrs Milton’s sister in the kitchen yesterday morning, only to have the whole sad story explained to me—although she didn’t tell me what a monster young Adrian is. I then acted as if I’d in fact known and decided to resume my mantle of ignorance with you mainly because you did seem to be coping admirably and I thought it would help restore your confidence. That same confidence you accused me of undermining. I now realise I should have bucked in and helped or something like that but then that would have meant explaining to people like Sasha—’

‘That I’d got myself in a bind,’ Lucy said gloomily.

‘I thought you might not appreciate that.’