And the Bride Wore Black

‘But how was I to know how much it would hurt?’ What did that mean—after an evening spent with Susan? This whole thing was a maze, a minefield of half-spoken suggestions and confusing innuendoes, and if she took the wrong path... She shook her head as the wet pillow stuck to her cheeks. Alex, oh, Alex... There had been something in his face as he had left that had frightened her, a tight coldness, as though he had reached a decision that was painful but irrevocable. She fell asleep as dawn touched the night sky with tentative fingers, confused, frightened and desperately alone.

CHAPTER NINE

THE next three days passed as if in a dream. The arctic weather still held the world outside in a breathtakingly beautiful icy grip but Alex didn’t suggest they visit the lake again. They went on a couple of long walks with the dogs and visited some old friends of Isabella’s, but Alex had departed from her in some unfathomable way, although he was as attentive and polite to her in private as when they were in company. He made no effort to touch her now when they were alone and even his endearments for Isabella’s benefit were restrained. If his grandmother noticed that something was amiss she didn’t mention it, although Fabia caught the bright robin eyes glancing at them more than once.

When she awoke on the morning of her departure she lay for some time in the big warm bed, gazing out of the window at the white lacy pattern Jack Frost had painted on the glass, unable to believe that she was going to say goodbye to Isabella and the rest of the household that day. Now the time was here she felt suddenly bereft and utterly alone, her stomach clenched in a giant knot and a feeling of something like panic sending fluttering shivers down her limbs. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of Alex, not for a minute, a second.

She had packed the night before and now, after a quick shower, she dressed slowly in trousers and a warm jumper, looping her hair into a high ponytail and wearing no make-up except for a light touch of blue on her eyelids.

As she entered the big breakfast room Alex looked up from behind his paper and just for a moment, before the heavy veil dropped down over his eyes, she thought she saw a flash of something almost like pain in the tawny gaze. ‘Good morning, Fabia.’ As the deep rich voice spoke her name it registered on her for the first time that there had been no ‘angel-face’ since the day of the party, and again she felt a loss she had no right to feel. ‘Your day of release.’ He smiled grimly. ‘All good things come to those who wait.’

He wasn’t joking and she didn’t smile, merely inclining her head towards him before going to the long sideboard and helping herself from the covered dishes of scrambled egg, mushrooms, tomatoes and fried ham and sausages. ‘What time do you want to leave?’ she asked quietly as she seated herself at the table.

‘After lunch.’ His voice was abrupt. ‘The roads aren’t too bad now we haven’t had any fresh falls of snow for a few days so we should be able to drive straight back without too much difficulty.’

She nodded slowly. He obviously wanted to get rid of her as quickly as possible now her mission was accomplished. The shaft of pain she felt almost took her breath away but as she continued eating, mechanically, the little voice of logic reassured her that it was probably the best thing. She had no place in his world so the sooner she left it the better.

‘Miss Fabia?’ Christine’s grey head peered round the breakfast room door. ‘Mrs Cade would like a word with you later if that’s all right. She’s feeling tired so she isn’t getting up today. Perhaps you’d take mid-morning coffee with her about eleven?’

‘Of course.’ Fabia looked at the elderly companion in concern. ‘Is she well, Christine? I mean, she’s not—?’

‘I think all the excitement of the last few days has worn her out,’ Alex said quietly. ‘She would insist on having a grand sort of Christmas despite all advice to the contrary, almost as if she senses...’ His voice trailed away and he rose from the table stony faced. ‘She’s just tired, Fabia, that’s all. She is eighty-seven, after all.’

She wanted to offer some word of comfort to him as he strode from the room but there was nothing she could say. His grandmother was an old, old lady with a weak heart and she knew her imminent death would hit him hard. She had been mother and father to him all his life, after all. Maybe it was his anxiety for Isabella that had turned him into this cold, reserved stranger with his carefully polite voice and distant smiles? Or maybe he’s just fed up with me, she thought miserably. Their relationship had hardly been a sm

ooth one, after all.

The big grandfather clock in the hall was chiming eleven as she knocked on Isabella’s door later that morning. As before, the tiny woman seemed lost in the huge bed, but Fabia was relieved to see that she was as bright-eyed as usual, with vocal cords intact.

‘Come and sit by me, child, don’t dither!’ Fabia joined her by the bed with a wry smile twisting her lips. It would take more than exhaustion to quell Isabella’s sharp tongue. ‘Now, you’re leaving after lunch, so Alexander tells me?’ Fabia nodded slowly.

‘I’d like to thank you for such a lovely holiday,’ she began politely, but Isabella’s lined face pulled itself into an irritated grimace and she waved a hand in front of Fabia’s face, bidding her silence.

‘Be quiet, girl. I want to have a little talk with you and we haven’t got much time. I can never be alone in this house for long, always someone coming to bother me.’ She glanced up at Fabia, her black eyes piercing under the shock of snow-white hair. ‘Now, then, I like you, Fabia Grant, I like you very much.’

‘Thank you.’ Fabia stared at her in surprise.

‘And because I like you I am going to say things which you may think impertinent, but then I’m an old lady, so...’ She shrugged graphically with the twist of her shoulders that was pure Latin.

‘I don’t usually care for the women my grandson attracts,’ she said blandly as Fabia stared at her wide-eyed. ‘There have been one or two who have been...acceptable, but not what I would choose for him, not at all.’ Fabia flushed scarlet, her cheeks burning hot. ‘You, as I say, are different and he knows it. I brought him up to recognise the wheat from the chaff and I wouldn’t like to see him hurt.’

‘I don’t understand.’ Fabia stared into the lined old face in confusion.

‘I’m not saying he hasn’t sown some wild oats, mind, but then you’d hardly expect him to have reached the age of thirty-five without having had a few...encounters, would you?’ Fabia shook her head dazedly. ‘But he knows a diamond when he sees one.’ The black eyes held hers fast. ‘You understand me, child?’

‘Look, Isabella...’ Fabia paused, uncertain of how to continue. The whole point of her being here had been to give Isabella’s last days the comfort of thinking that her grandson just might have met the right girl at last, but it was all supposed to have been vague hopes and dreams. This direct confrontation was not at all what she had supposed but then, knowing Isabella as she now did, she should have known, she thought wryly!

‘You know he cares for you, girl? That he cares very deeply indeed?’ Now Fabia rose from the chair at the side of the bed with a little gesture of repudiation that was instinctive rather than tactful in the circumstances.

‘I’m sorry, Isabella, I don’t think things are quite what you think, not yet at any rate,’ she added hastily. ‘Alex—’

‘Alex is in love with you, my dear,’ the old lady said flatly.

‘Has he told you that?’ Fabia forgot to pretend as she met the old lady’s tight gaze.

‘No, not in so many words,’ Isabella admitted slowly. ‘But I’ve seen the way he looks at you, child. He’s never looked at another woman like that and besides,’ she paused reflectively, ‘it’s just the way my dear husband used to look at me.’

‘It is?’ Fabia realised her mouth was wide open and shut it with a little snap. ‘But I don’t think—’