felt her nails dig into the palms of her hands in endurance, and as
if he sensed her sudden tensing, Nick lifted his head.
'Don't panic,' he advised acidly. 'Your ordeal is over.'
Until the next time, Alison thought, walking beside him, her heart
banging against her ribs like a terrified bird. Until the next time.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT was a very simple dress, Alison thought. Made of crepe in a shade
somewhere between grey and lavender, it relied for its effect on the
elegance of its cut, and details like the full sleeves falling to tightly
buttoned cuffs, and the deep white collar. It certainly didn't look like a
wedding dress. But then she didn't feel like a bride.
She put up a hand and smoothed back a tendril of hair. Melly had
done her proud, she thought with a faint smile, swirling the soft
brown cloud into an elegant topknot, and securing it with the spray of
matching flowers which had come with the dress and which she
hadn't quite known what to do with.
But Melly had known. In fact, Alison thought with a sigh, it was a
pity she was the younger sister. If the positions had been reversed,
Melanie would have coped ebulliently with everything— especially
Nick, with whom she flirted outrageously, considering him as her
future brother- in-law, fair game for her to practise her wiles on.
He encouraged her, of course. With Melanie, Nick was more human
than Alison had ever seen him, except perhaps with his
mother—teasing, affectionate and endlessly indulgent.
And entirely different, she had to admit, from the way he behaved
towards herself.
She grimaced slightly. Well, what did she expect, after all? The
bargain between them was made, and legally signed under the
bewildered aegis of Alec Liddell. And Nick had been generous—that
she could not deny, even if she wanted to. She had been astounded by
the size of the personal allowance he was making her, in addition to
the account he had opened at a local bank for the payment of all the
household bills. He had made it clear such mundane details were to be
left to her. What he had concerned himself with was the redecoration
of the house. Alison found herself spending evening after evening
poring over portfolios of sketches and designs, and swatches of fabric
and wallpaper. Her initial resentment of the clean sweep he was
making in what had been her family home was soon outweighed by
the realisation that refurbishment was badly needed and had been for
some years.
Her mother, however, was not so easy to convince, and there had
been a number of near- clashes between them, with her
sweetly-voiced reproaches on one side, and Nick's scarcely veiled
intolerance on the other. Fortunately, he had produced a
master-stroke by inviting her to choose exactly how she wanted her
own flat, converted from a little-used guest suite overlooking the rose
garden, designed and decorated, and Mrs Mortimer was soon happily
absorbed in her own plans, and less inclined to dwell mournfully on
what she called 'change for change's sake'.
For herself, Alison had found little to quarrel with in Nick's taste, and
they had achieved a reasonable harmony. The only awkwardness had
arisen when he had shown her the designs for their respective
bedrooms. She had not realised until then that he intended to use the
master bedroom and the adjoining room for their accommodation,
and had protested instinctively.
Nick looked at her, his brows lifting coldly. 'I realise, of course,' he
said, 'that you'd like me banished to the other end of the house, or
even to a separate building for preference, but I'm afraid the next
room is as much concession as I'm prepared to make. I've already told
you—as far as outsiders are concerned, this is a normal marriage.'
She swallowed weakly. 'But there's a communicating door ...' she
began, intending to tell him that the adjoining room was intended
principally as a dressing room.
'How incredibly suggestive,' Nick drawled, giving
if he sensed her sudden tensing, Nick lifted his head.
'Don't panic,' he advised acidly. 'Your ordeal is over.'
Until the next time, Alison thought, walking beside him, her heart
banging against her ribs like a terrified bird. Until the next time.
CHAPTER FOUR
IT was a very simple dress, Alison thought. Made of crepe in a shade
somewhere between grey and lavender, it relied for its effect on the
elegance of its cut, and details like the full sleeves falling to tightly
buttoned cuffs, and the deep white collar. It certainly didn't look like a
wedding dress. But then she didn't feel like a bride.
She put up a hand and smoothed back a tendril of hair. Melly had
done her proud, she thought with a faint smile, swirling the soft
brown cloud into an elegant topknot, and securing it with the spray of
matching flowers which had come with the dress and which she
hadn't quite known what to do with.
But Melly had known. In fact, Alison thought with a sigh, it was a
pity she was the younger sister. If the positions had been reversed,
Melanie would have coped ebulliently with everything— especially
Nick, with whom she flirted outrageously, considering him as her
future brother- in-law, fair game for her to practise her wiles on.
He encouraged her, of course. With Melanie, Nick was more human
than Alison had ever seen him, except perhaps with his
mother—teasing, affectionate and endlessly indulgent.
And entirely different, she had to admit, from the way he behaved
towards herself.
She grimaced slightly. Well, what did she expect, after all? The
bargain between them was made, and legally signed under the
bewildered aegis of Alec Liddell. And Nick had been generous—that
she could not deny, even if she wanted to. She had been astounded by
the size of the personal allowance he was making her, in addition to
the account he had opened at a local bank for the payment of all the
household bills. He had made it clear such mundane details were to be
left to her. What he had concerned himself with was the redecoration
of the house. Alison found herself spending evening after evening
poring over portfolios of sketches and designs, and swatches of fabric
and wallpaper. Her initial resentment of the clean sweep he was
making in what had been her family home was soon outweighed by
the realisation that refurbishment was badly needed and had been for
some years.
Her mother, however, was not so easy to convince, and there had
been a number of near- clashes between them, with her
sweetly-voiced reproaches on one side, and Nick's scarcely veiled
intolerance on the other. Fortunately, he had produced a
master-stroke by inviting her to choose exactly how she wanted her
own flat, converted from a little-used guest suite overlooking the rose
garden, designed and decorated, and Mrs Mortimer was soon happily
absorbed in her own plans, and less inclined to dwell mournfully on
what she called 'change for change's sake'.
For herself, Alison had found little to quarrel with in Nick's taste, and
they had achieved a reasonable harmony. The only awkwardness had
arisen when he had shown her the designs for their respective
bedrooms. She had not realised until then that he intended to use the
master bedroom and the adjoining room for their accommodation,
and had protested instinctively.
Nick looked at her, his brows lifting coldly. 'I realise, of course,' he
said, 'that you'd like me banished to the other end of the house, or
even to a separate building for preference, but I'm afraid the next
room is as much concession as I'm prepared to make. I've already told
you—as far as outsiders are concerned, this is a normal marriage.'
She swallowed weakly. 'But there's a communicating door ...' she
began, intending to tell him that the adjoining room was intended
principally as a dressing room.
'How incredibly suggestive,' Nick drawled, giving
Similar Books
My Grandfather Would Have Shot Me: A Black Woman Discovers Her Family's Nazi Past
Jennifer Teege, Nikola Sellmair
