Caro nodded, giving her an earnest stare. 'You will remember that, won't you? If anyone should ask. Like the Countess, for example? I am Mr Martell's fiancée. OK?'
Mrs Greybury's eyes narrowed. 'Ah,' she said. Caro grinned. 'Exactly. Now, don't forget.' 'No,' the housekeeper promised, staring hard at Caro. She smiled back quite suddenly, as if she had just made up her mind what she thought of Caro. 'Oh, no, don't worry, I won't get it wrong.'
'Mr Martell said I could rely on you,' Caro lied, and the housekeeper's face lit up like a Christmas tree.
'Did he really say that?'
Touched by that delight, Caro nodded, then turned and headed down the hall towards the third door. She couldn't help noticing the casually elegant style of the furnishing, the polished wood-block floor, the gilt-framed mirror, the floor-length cream brocade curtains at the windows, the Georgian hall-table and the large Chinese vase into which were thrust umbrellas and walking sticks. Through the open door she passed she saw a spacious sitting-room furnished in much the same way, a very English decor, comfortably classy and in restful colours. She approved Gil's taste; it was something else about him she liked.
She tapped firmly on the third door, taking a deep breath when she heard the voice inside say sharply, 'Who is it?' It was a very familiar voice, and one she disliked intensely.
Caro tapped again without answering, and after a brief pause the door was pulled open and the Countess said crossly, 'Well, what do you want?' Her voice died away as she saw Caro. She stared, her eyes narrowing with hard suspicion.
Caro stared back, bitterly noticing yet again just how lovely she was, slender as a reed in her lace-trimmed ivory silk négligé, her blonde hair shimmering. She looked perfect for an instant; radiant as daybreak, innocent as a white rose. You had to look closely to see the ice glittering in those big blue eyes, the selfish line of that beautifully modelled mouth. Men probably never looked at her hard enough. They were too dazzled by their first quick glance and then in too much of a hurry to catch this butterfly which had fluttered through their lives to bother to look any closer.
The Countess was observing Caro in her turn, looking her up and down with a curling, dismissive smile. 'I've seen you before, haven't I?' she said. 'You were at Gil's grandmother's house the other evening, when I had dinner there. You're that girl, the Ramsgate girl. I gather your father's buying Westbrooks.'
'That's right,' Caro said pleasantly, moving forward with such determination that the Countess had to fall back into the room. Caro let her gaze roam around, noting the disorder. Suitcases flung open with their contents displayed, clothes draped everywhere, dresses on hangers in a mahogany wardrobe, piles of silky undies on the bed, or dropped haphazardly into a mahogany chest of drawers. Clearly the Countess planned to stay here for a long time.
A frown pleated the smooth forehead of the other woman. 'What exactly are you doing here, by the way?' she enquired with the casual arrogance of one accustomed to giving orders to servants. Caro met that blue gaze with a clear stare of her own.
'I'm waiting for my fiancé.'
Miranda looked blank. 'Your fiancé? Who's that?'
'Gil.' Caro's voice was soft and sweet, her grey eyes wide with innocent unawareness.
'What?' The shriek wasn't unexpected, yet it still made Caro jump. Miranda had turned first an ugly red and then gone white; not with pain, though, Caro sensed, watching her closely. No, Miranda was white with temper, her mouth was trembling with it and her blue eyes spat a rage that made Caro back slightly in alarm.
'I don't believe you! You're lying. You and Gil? Gil, marry you? Don't make me laugh, as if he would look twice at you!' Miranda ran scornful eyes over her from head to foot. 'You're not just plain, you're downright ugly, and you have the dress sense of a blind camel. Look at that red thing! Vulgar. Horribly, embarrassingly vulgar. Neckline down to your waist and as for that slit up the side.. .well, really! I've no doubt you put it on to catch Gil's eye, but you're wasting your time, he doesn't go for anything that obvious. Gil has too much taste.'
Caro kept very calm, although it was not easy. She went on smiling, even if it made her teeth ache, and she forced her voice to sound cheerful and polite, as though the Countess had not just insulted her grossly and was not at this moment looking at her with hatred and fury.
'We're getting married next week,' she told Miranda ma conversational tone. 'Family and really close friends only; it's going to be a very quiet wedding. We both hate the idea of a lot of fuss and publicity.'
'No!' Miranda yelled. 'It isn't true. He wouldn't…'
'The announcement will come afterwards, once we're on our honeymoon,' Caro added, as if she hadn't heard a word of what Miranda was saying.
Miranda grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently. 'Stop lying! It's all lies, all of it.'
As if on cue there was a tap on the door and Mrs Greybury appeared, calm and polite, smoothing down her dress with pale hands. 'May I help you pack again, my lady?' she enquired and Miranda glared at her.
'I'd forgotten you! You must know! Listen, is Mr Martell getting married?'
'Next week, my lady,' Mrs Greybury said, picking up the piles of delicate lacy underwear and beginning to pack them back into Miranda's cases.
'We'll be moving in here at first, and as I'm always so busy at work, Mrs Greybury will carry on just as she always has done—but then we thought later we might like a house nearer the park, near my father's house. We're very close, you know, and with Gil's grandmother living just a short walk away it will be perfect,' Caro said. She was enjoying this, in an angry way; enjoying making Miranda so furious, even though Miranda's long fingers and pointy red nails were quite painful, and il wasn't much fun being shaken like that. It made her feel slightly giddy.
'I've packed these two cases; I'll take them into the hall and ring for a taxi for you, my lady,' Mrs Greybury said, departing with a case in each hand.
'I'm not going anywhere!' Miranda yelled after her and gave Caro another shake to emphasise the point.
'Do stop doing that,' Caro complained softly. 'I might be sick, and you wouldn't want that, would you?'
Miranda's eyes rounded; she gave a gasp. 'I see it all now! Oh, you scheming little... I know how yon managed it. You've got yourself pregnant!'
Caro couldn't help laughing. 'Now that would be one for the textbooks!'