A Reason For Being. Penny Jordan

on Marcus’s shoulder as she stood beside him.

      ‘Then who…?’ She paused delicately, eyebrows slightly raised, glossed mouth faintly pursed.

      ‘My stepcousin, Maggie Deveril. I presume it is still Deveril?’ he asked Maggie in an unexpectedly harsh tone.

      His question caught her off guard, shocking her. Did he really think she would have married after what…Abruptly she caught herself up just in time, sensing the traitorous ground lurking beneath her feet. Of course, it was only natural that he might think her married…just as it was equally natural that he should be engaged.

      Engaged…She told herself that the sick feeling gripping her insides owed its existence to the past and not the present.

      ‘Ah, yes, I think I remember you,’ Isobel commented thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing. ‘You left the area rather unexpectedly, didn’t you? You know, darling, you’ve never told me all about that. I do think family skeletons are so exciting, don’t you?’ she asked Maggie, focusing on her again, and then adding with a light laugh, ‘Although when a young unmarried girl leaves home unexpectedly, there is normally only one conclusion one comes to, isn’t there?’

      There was a tense pause, and then her own cold, ‘Is there?’ and Marcus’s hard, ‘Isobel, that’s enough,’ both came at the same time.

      ‘Teenage girls leave home for a wide variety of reasons which have nothing to do with your unwarranted implication,’ Marcus continued. ‘In Maggie’s case it was because…’

      ‘…I wanted to go to art school in London, whereas my grandfather would…have preferred me to attend college in York,’ Maggie lied, quietly intervening.

      She had no idea what Marcus had intended to say, but, if he wished to reveal her sins in full to his fiance´e, then he could do so without her looking on.

      ‘Is there no one at all in charge of the house at the moment?’ she challenged him, changing the subject.

      ‘Not as such, no,’ he responded curtly.

      ‘Poor darling. It’s the pain that’s making you so irritable, isn’t it?’ Isobel cooed sickeningly. ‘Never mind. Daddy says you’ll probably be able to have the plaster off in another six to eight weeks.’

      Marcus made a sound that sounded more like a growl of irritation than anything else, and Maggie was hard pressed not to smile a little. How very vulnerable he seemed now, with both his hair and his temper ruffled, and relief flooded through her, releasing her inner tension. There was nothing she had to be afraid of. Marcus was engaged to be married, and she was not a child any longer, living in a world of fantasy and make-believe. The shadows which had dogged her footsteps for so long shortened a little, suddenly far less menacing.

      ‘And what the hell do you think is so funny?’ Marcus challenged her, bringing home to her the fact that he was far from being a helpless child.

      She might not like his fiance´e, but she certainly didn’t envy Isobel the task of soothing him, she reflected wryly, as she told him sweetly, ‘What happened, Marcus? Did you fall off that high horse of yours?’

      The anger that arced between them shut out Isobel completely, and for a second the present dropped away and she was conscious of him with all her senses, both awed and intimidated by him, held in thrall to her childish dreams; then Isobel said something and the spell was broken, freeing her from its cruel bond.

      She stepped back from him, feeling a need to put an actual physical distance between them, shivering a little as she did so, and Isobel, seeing it, remarked with mock solicitude, ‘Oh, dear, Marcus, Maggie is cold. Of course, you’ve been living in London. I do envy you.’ She pulled a pretty face. ‘I do manage to get down for the odd break, and I have chums down there from school and we all meet up pretty regularly, but since Daddy insisted on my helping out by acting as his receptionist at the surgery…I simply haven’t had the chance. And Marcus, of course…hates me being away, don’t you, darling? I take it this is just a fleeting visit?’ she added with apparent casualness, but Maggie wasn’t deceived. She could see how little the other woman relished her presence.

      ‘I don’t know yet,’ she told her calmly. ‘It all depends.’

      ‘On what?’ Marcus demanded bluntly.

      Later she would have time to investigate more thoroughly that dull little pain which attacked her at his obvious desire to be rid of her; for now she had to marshal all her resources in order to be able to tell him calmly, ‘On why Susie felt it necessary to write and ask for my help.’

      ‘Susie wrote to you…’ It was Isobel who responded to her, her expression changing to one of anger. ‘Oh, really, Marcus, that child is getting too much,’ she told him furiously. ‘I keep telling you. Both of them should be at boarding-school. You must see how good it would be for them, darling,’ she added in a more wheedling tone as she saw his frown. ‘And for us. When we get married. And anyway, now that Mrs Nesbitt’s gone, what alternative do you have, especially when you’re immobilised like this? I mean, it’s all very well relying on friends to take the girls to and from school…You know I’d be pleased to help out myself, but Daddy needs me too much, and frankly, darling, the girls are getting the teeniest bit spoiled. I promise you a few years at school will do them oodles of good…and it will give us the privacy we both need. Such a shame we can’t bring the wedding forward from next June, but you know that Mummy has set her heart on a June wedding, and, as I said, Daddy needs me to help out at the surgery…’

      And wasn’t she just thrilled about that, since it meant that she was released from having to do anything about the girls, other than insist that they went to boarding-school? Maggie reflected wryly. She had met many women like Isobel in London: selfish, self-absorbed, completely insensitive women who projected an image of frail femininity while in reality being as hard as the diamonds of which they were often so very fond.

      ‘You can’t possibly manage with them at home, anyway. You know that it’s going to be at least another three months before you’re properly back on your feet.’ She gave a small trill of laughter. ‘I feel so guilty about the whole thing.’

      ‘You can hardly be held responsible for a bolting horse,’ Marcus interrupted her grimly, and Maggie, who knew quite well that Marcus rode superbly, wondered what on earth had happened to cause him to be thrown, and so violently that he had apparently broken both his shoulder and his leg.

      ‘Well, it’s just like you to be so sweet about it, but I’m terribly conscious of how many problems being immobile is causing you. What about the business?’

      ‘My partner’s taking over for the time being. I can keep up with most of the paperwork from here. My secretary has agreed to come out three afternoons a week, so that we can keep on top of it.’

      ‘What a treasure she is,’ Isobel cooed, but Marcus could see the betraying narrowing of the hard blue eyes. ‘But if I could give you a little word of warning, darling. Her husband’s away so much, and I suspect she’s a little in love with you. It wouldn’t do to let her get the wrong idea. Look at the problems it caused you before…’ She gave Maggie an acidly sweet smile, and added, unforgivably, ‘I’m sure, now that Maggie herself is an adult, she won’t mind my saying how worried you were at the time. I mean, girls of that age don’t always realise what they’re doing, do they? And they can be so very, very determined. I mean, we’re always reading about schoolmasters whose lives have been ruined because of the importunings of some oversexed little schoolgirl…’

      ‘Isobel,’ Marcus warned harshly, interrupting her, but Maggie had no need of his interruption. After all, Isobel wasn’t saying anything about her that she hadn’t already said herself; and she had long ago become inured to the pain of knowing how stupidly she had behaved. While it wasn’t true that she had actually physically opportuned Marcus, she had certainly done everything she could to make him aware of her sexually, albeit within the limits of her very scanty knowledge and even more scanty experience.

      ‘Oh, it’s all right,