Rather rare, somehow, and a bit too exquisite to be an ordinary common or garden mummy!”
“Don’t be silly, darling,” Caro replied; smiling at her. “I couldn’t possibly change all that much in a few weeks. It’s probably my dress, and I’ve discovered a wonderful hairdresser.”
“And you’ve stopped using the wrong kind of lipstick,” Beverley told her, still studying her critically. “Perhaps you were always extremely attractive, only I never noticed it.”
David Rivers as a son-in-law was a young man Caro felt she was quite justified in feeling proud of. . He was very fair, with level, alert gray eyes. Instead of the rather formal handshake she had been prepared for he swept her into his arms and gave her such a hearty hug that it rendered her temporarily breathless.
“Mmm!” he exclaimed, his admiring eyes roving over her. “I’m not going to call you ‘mother’! I shall call you Caro from now on!”
“Good!” she exclaimed, “I don’t honestly feel like a mother to two such completely grown-up young people as yourselves.”
She led the way into the drawing-room, and she could see her daughter’s eyes wandering everywhere with the same unconcealed appreciation.
“Mummy, what a super house! This room is exquisite, and I simply adore those flower paintings. Do tell me, is my new step-papa a close relation to a millionaire, or something of the sort?”
Caro was faintly shocked by the bluntness of the query.
“He’s a very eminent local consultant,” she explained.
And even as she spoke, the door opened and Lucien stood there. He moved toward them, his interested eyes on Beverley.
“So you’ve arrived safely,” he said as he put out a hand.
“Why,” Beverley gasped, “you’re not a bit like I expected you to be !”
“Aren’t I?” His eyes were smiling and amused. “And you’re almost exactly as I expected you to be!”
While the two men talked Caro took Beverley upstairs and showed her the room that had been prepared for her and David. It was beautifully equipped, like all the other rooms in the house, and with a bathroom a djoining.
“Mummy, I’m honestly staggered by all this,” Beverley confessed. “I can’t take it in. And your Lucien is quite amazingly good-looking, isn’t he?” she continued. “I could fall for him myself if I weren’t already married to David.”
Caro smiled with a touch of affectionate humor in her eyes. And then her daughter looked up into her mother’s face and studied it carefully. “Mummy,” she inquired softly at the end of it, “you are happy, aren’t you?”
Caro made reassuring responses, able to do so convincingly because, in a way, she was terribly happy — far, far happier than she had ever been in her life before. And the wonder of being Lucien’s wife was something that uplifted her at moments to realms far beyond and above the description Beverley applied to her own present state of mind, and merited a term far more rare and precious. But there were also moments she had to live through as a result of being his wife that were marred by doubt and a frightening little cold feeling that she could have made a mistake.
Lucien was a passionate lover, but he was also an extraordinarily detached man. She had never been in love before in her life, and Lucien had all at once become her world. But Lucien, in spite of some violent attraction that had caused him to marry her, could, she felt, exist without her. She was conscious that she was merely filling a niche in his life, not only because there were so many preoccupations that claimed him, but because he had once been so deathlessly in love that no other woman could ever take the place of the one he had lost.
B ut while Beverley’s eyes watched her, Caro had no doubts whatsoever to express, and Beverley, after a few moments, was apparently satisfied. Caro left her to her unpacking and went along lo her own bedroom, where after a short time Lucien joined her. He
“Don’t be silly, darling,” Caro replied; smiling at her. “I couldn’t possibly change all that much in a few weeks. It’s probably my dress, and I’ve discovered a wonderful hairdresser.”
“And you’ve stopped using the wrong kind of lipstick,” Beverley told her, still studying her critically. “Perhaps you were always extremely attractive, only I never noticed it.”
David Rivers as a son-in-law was a young man Caro felt she was quite justified in feeling proud of. . He was very fair, with level, alert gray eyes. Instead of the rather formal handshake she had been prepared for he swept her into his arms and gave her such a hearty hug that it rendered her temporarily breathless.
“Mmm!” he exclaimed, his admiring eyes roving over her. “I’m not going to call you ‘mother’! I shall call you Caro from now on!”
“Good!” she exclaimed, “I don’t honestly feel like a mother to two such completely grown-up young people as yourselves.”
She led the way into the drawing-room, and she could see her daughter’s eyes wandering everywhere with the same unconcealed appreciation.
“Mummy, what a super house! This room is exquisite, and I simply adore those flower paintings. Do tell me, is my new step-papa a close relation to a millionaire, or something of the sort?”
Caro was faintly shocked by the bluntness of the query.
“He’s a very eminent local consultant,” she explained.
And even as she spoke, the door opened and Lucien stood there. He moved toward them, his interested eyes on Beverley.
“So you’ve arrived safely,” he said as he put out a hand.
“Why,” Beverley gasped, “you’re not a bit like I expected you to be !”
“Aren’t I?” His eyes were smiling and amused. “And you’re almost exactly as I expected you to be!”
While the two men talked Caro took Beverley upstairs and showed her the room that had been prepared for her and David. It was beautifully equipped, like all the other rooms in the house, and with a bathroom a djoining.
“Mummy, I’m honestly staggered by all this,” Beverley confessed. “I can’t take it in. And your Lucien is quite amazingly good-looking, isn’t he?” she continued. “I could fall for him myself if I weren’t already married to David.”
Caro smiled with a touch of affectionate humor in her eyes. And then her daughter looked up into her mother’s face and studied it carefully. “Mummy,” she inquired softly at the end of it, “you are happy, aren’t you?”
Caro made reassuring responses, able to do so convincingly because, in a way, she was terribly happy — far, far happier than she had ever been in her life before. And the wonder of being Lucien’s wife was something that uplifted her at moments to realms far beyond and above the description Beverley applied to her own present state of mind, and merited a term far more rare and precious. But there were also moments she had to live through as a result of being his wife that were marred by doubt and a frightening little cold feeling that she could have made a mistake.
Lucien was a passionate lover, but he was also an extraordinarily detached man. She had never been in love before in her life, and Lucien had all at once become her world. But Lucien, in spite of some violent attraction that had caused him to marry her, could, she felt, exist without her. She was conscious that she was merely filling a niche in his life, not only because there were so many preoccupations that claimed him, but because he had once been so deathlessly in love that no other woman could ever take the place of the one he had lost.
B ut while Beverley’s eyes watched her, Caro had no doubts whatsoever to express, and Beverley, after a few moments, was apparently satisfied. Caro left her to her unpacking and went along lo her own bedroom, where after a short time Lucien joined her. He
Similar Books
