Master of Comus

'I apologise, Leonie,' Jake said very gently, looking at Leonie with a serious expression. 'I didn't intend to hurt you, believe me.

'What did you intend?' Paul demanded. 'You knew that Diane would repeat that story to half Paris. Telling her was telling the world.

'You were damned rude to me,' Jake said bluntly. T suppose I was furious. You practically threw me out as if I were a door-to-door salesman, and I resented it.'

George appeared in the doorway, looking at them soberly. 'We're waiting for you, Paul.'

Jake shrugged, his eyes still engaged in a duel with Paul. 'I'm leaving, George. Make my adieux, will you?'

'You're not leaving,' George said decisively. My wife invited you to dinner and you'll Stay. Paul looked at him, narrow-eyed. George returned the stare calmly. 'My dear Paul, there'll be enough gossip as it is—if Jake leaves now it will be ten times worse. You have no choice but to keep up appearances. Jake will dine with us and you will behave towards him with the same courtesy you will show all my other guests. For your wife's sake.

Paul's mouth set grimly. 'Yes, you're right. I wasn't thinking straight.' He glanced at Jake. 'I apologise-for my behaviour this morning.'

Jake nodded casually. 'Forget it. It's all been a storm in a tea-cup.' He glanced at George. 'Deliberately blown up, if you'll forgive me, George, by your beautiful wife. Women can be the very devil.'

George did not reply. He turned away and they followed him into the dining-room.

The mea

l was beautifully cooked and beautifully served. Leaning back in a carved wooden chair, Leonie watched across the white damask cloth as Diane flirted with Jean-Claud, the pure smooth curve of her breasts rising from her gown as she laughed, her skin made almost translucent by the candlelight. A blaze of silver and glass, the soft- footed efficiency of the servants, the dark green velvet of the curtains picked out by a green T'ang horse rearing delicately on a small white shelf in a corner—the room held a discreet elegance Leonie had never experienced before.

Yet beneath all this beauty she felt a coldness which emanated from her hostess. Everything had been chosen to offset Diane's own beauty, not for its own sake, and the general effect was to make one conscious of Diane's icy self-love. Self-centred people chill those who come near them, and Diane had that effect on Leonie. It was not merely that Diane had been malicious towards her. It was Diane's eternal consciousness of self, the deliberate fall of her silky hair as she smiled sidelong, the movement of arm or shoulder, the soft, spiteful remarks which fell from her red mouth.

Emilie sat opposite Leonie and talked to her chattily throughout the meal. They took to each other immediately and were soon fast friends. Emilie confided, as they left the table later, that she, too, had been a target for Diane's spite. 'She hates her bachelor friends to marry and always loathes their wives. Diane likes to have a circle of men friends who adore her. When she was first married she had dozens, but as time goes by they vanish one by one, and Diane is getting desperate.' Emilie's bright eyes danced. 'Time is on our side, you see!'

So it was not only Paul whom Diane regarded jealously as a possession, thought Leonie, relieved. Her expression gave her away. Emilie giggled and whispered to her. 'Diane thought Paul was sure to stay a bachelor, and she was furious when the news broke that he had married you.' Her glance was faintly anxious. 'You will be careful, won't you? She can be very devious and very malicious.

'Why do people put up with it?' Leonie asked.

Emilie shrugged. 'She is very beautiful and very rich, and with men she can be very good company, I believe.'

Leonie's eyes rested thoughtfully on Paul. Diane stood beside him, her hand on his arm in that possessive gesture, smiling at him. Paul had lost his frown, and was grinning, his eyes full of the amused indulgence a man might feel towards the playful aggression of a kitten.

Emilie looked, sighed. 'Yes, she is very dangerous. Believe me, you will have to be on your guard with her.'

'I doubt if I'll see much of her,' said Leonie. She thought longingly of her uncomplicated life in London. How restful it would be to return to it, take up her daily routine and forget this Arabian Nights glamour which disguised a cold heart and a malicious mind.

If this was the world Paul inhabited she wanted no part of it. She would rather return to Comus and spend the next few months with Argon. He would be lonely there, and she was sure that he would welcome her return. Paul would not be able to complain, surely? It was only natural for her to stay with Argon when he was so ill?

Diane played the piano for them while they sat and listened with blank faces. Her touch was sure and delicate, yet the music, like the beautiful house, had no soul, and left one curiously unsatisfied. Diane was like a glittering mirror which reflects nothing but itself.

They left at eleven. As they walked to their car Emilie slipped close beside Leonie and whispered, 'Have dinner with us tomorrow—just you and Paul. I did not want to make the invitation publicly or I would have had to invite Diane.'

Leonie smiled warmly. 'I would love to, thank

you.'

While Paul was unlocking the car Doris Nieman hurried up and made a similar invitation, adding shyly, 'Just you and Paul, no one else ... or would that be dull for you?'

'I would like it very much,' said Leonie, beginning to feel better.

Doris gave her a sweet smile. 'Good. I'll ring you tomorrow. Perhaps we could do some shopping together? Carl always says it's my vice, but I just adore Paris shops!'

'In the car driving home, Paul said quietly, 'I am sorry for Diane's behaviour.'

'I would prefer not to see much of her,' Leonie said, deciding that there was no point in pretending to like the woman. 'I'm sorry if that offends you...'

'No, I understand it, but George is a good friend of mine, and Diane can be fun when she's not behaving like a piranha. She's a man's woman. There's no reason why you should see her apart from the occasional dinner.' He shot her a look. 'You liked the others, didn't you?'