Miranda, however, had no sense of humour and didn't even smile. 'You know what I mean! If Gil is going to marry you, there has to be a reason—I know he can't be in love with you.' That stung, but Caro refused to let it show. She went on smiling. 'Either you're expecting his baby—or have told him you are!—because I simply don't believe he would ever bring himself to marry you.' Caro went on smiling. Damn you, damn you, she thought, tears burning somewhere behind her bright, shiny eyes.
'Or else...' the Countess s
lowly said, staring at her. 'Or else he's marrying you to keep his store. That's it, isn't it? Your father means to buy Westbrooks and he will probably replace the top management—your sort of people always do, don't you? You buy a company and strip the assets and cut down on staff. So Gil will lose his store if your father buys it. But you're your father's only heir. You get all those department stores one day. My God, yes. I see it all now.'
'Think what you like,' Caro said, somehow managing to hang on to her temper. 'Just get out of here, will you?' 'Not until I've seen Gil!' 'Gil does not want to see you.' 'We'll see about that when he gets home.' 'He is home,' Caro said. 'He is sitting outside, waiting for you to leave.'
Miranda looked at her, ran to the window and pulled aside the curtain to stare out into the street. Caro felt sorry for her for an instant, seeing her body as tense as a violin bow. Was she genuinely in love with Gil? Was she unhappy? Then Caro hardened her heart against the other woman. Miranda had a husband and a life elsewhere; let her go to them and leave Gil alone. Gil had asked Caro to help him, and she was going to do just that, whatever the cost to herself.
Miranda suddenly ran towards the door, screaming, 'Gil! Gil!' Caro followed her, realising that she could hardly stop her speaking to him. They passed Mrs Greybury in the hall.
'The taxi is on its way, my lady,' she blandly said. 'I'll finish packing for you, shall I?'
Miranda didn't answer; she had pulled the front door open and was running to Gil. Caro stood in the doorway and watched him open the limousine door and swing his long legs out of the Rolls. He straightened, then leaned casually against it, a very tall, elegant man, with dark, wind-ruffled hair, his expression unreadable at this distance. How did he really feel about Miranda? She wished she knew. Caro knew how she, herself, felt about Gil— her stomach plunged terrifyingly at the very sight of him. She couldn't blame Miranda for wanting him. She wanted him pretty badly herself.
She let Miranda get there and start sobbing all over him, then sauntered over to join them. 'The Countess's taxi will be here soon, Gil, darling,' she said, her grey eyes meeting his dark ones over Miranda's bent head. 'I told her our wonderful news, by the way. What a pity we can't have everyone to the wedding, but Dad insists on just family and really close old friends. We'll miss Miranda and her husband, won't we?'
'Oh, Gil, how could you?' Miranda accused. 'You're just marrying her to keep the store, aren't you?'
'Miranda, really!' Gil said reprovingly. 'Is that nice? Now, go and get dressed, there's a good girl.'
'I'm staying!' threatened Miranda. 'Send her away, darling. I must talk to you.'
'Oh, I'm spending the night here,' Caro coolly informed her.
Miranda made a violent gesture, gave a high-pitched whimper and then fled back indoors, her négligé flapping around her slender legs, her blonde hair dishevelled.
Gil breathed a long, deep sigh of relief. 'Let's hope she's really going.' He watched Caro's averted face. 'You constantly amaze me. I can never guess what you'll get up to next.'
She found it hard to keep cool now, in his presence; there was something about the way he was watching her that made her nerves prickle. 'You asked for help in getting rid of her, and this worked.' She tried to sound amused, and certainly he laughed.
'A week doesn't give us much time to think of an alternative, though,' he softly pointed out. 'If we don't get married next week, Miranda will be back.'
'You can always move,' Caro said. 'Or tell her frankly that you just aren't interested.' She lifted her grey eyes and met his stare. 'If you really aren't, that is!'
'I have never wanted to marry Miranda,' Gil said shortly. 'She can be fun, she can be very silly, she's obviously very beautiful. But Colin is an old friend; so is she, in fact. We've all known each other for years; I pushed her on her swing when she was a tot. I had a few dates with her before she decided she wanted to marry Colin. I think she loved him in the beginning. And she wanted his title, of course. It gave him a lot of glamour; all the girls swarmed round him. He hadn't started drinking then. He was very athletic, very fit; rode and swam and played rugger. Oh, yes, I think Miranda was in love with him once. I was best man at their wedding, and she was radiant. The trouble only started much later, when Colin's glamour wore off and he started to drink.'
'Sure that's the right way round? I mean, why did he start to drink? Could it be because he realised his wife preferred another man?' Miranda hadn't made any secret of it, either, Caro thought cynically.
Gil frowned. 'No, that only started quite recently. Colin has been drinking for quite a while, and I know Miranda tried hard to get him to stop. He called it nagging him, but she hated it when he came home drunk night after night.'
They both heard movements and fell silent just before Miranda reappeared, fully dressed again, her hair and face immaculate, her head up and her expression icily remote. Caro sighed, hoping they were not in for yet another scene, but at that instant a vehicle turned the corner and came towards them.
Gil looked round, raking his wind-blown hair back. 'Ah, here's your taxi, just on time. And here's Mrs Greybury with the rest of your suitcases. How many did you bring, darling? What amazing quantities of clothes you must wear every day.'
Miranda ignored him, flicking her eyes over the luggage to check that it was all there. The taxi pulled up beside her and the driver regarded the pile of cases with dismay. 'All that? How many passengers?'
'Just one,' Gil said. 'Here she is, waiting for you. I'll give you a hand loading her luggage.' He put several cases into the back of the cab while the driver put the rest in the front. Gil turned and bowed to Miranda courteously, offering his hand to help her into the taxi. 'Goodbye, Miranda, darling. We'll see you after the honeymoon.'
Miranda pretended not to see his outstretched hand; she climbed into the cab and sank back, crossing her long, slim legs elegantly.
'Where to?' asked the driver and Gil shrugged, closing the door on Miranda.
'Ask the lady.'
'Jurby House, Park Lane,' Miranda coldly said, and the taxi pulled away.
'She's going back to her husband,' Caro thought aloud, incredulously. 'I hope he throws her out again.