The Token Wife. Sara Craven

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СКАЧАТЬ she went downstairs she found herself wondering yet again what someone like Alex Fabian was doing with Ellie, who was gentle to the point of naïveté, and certainly no party animal. In fact, she still lived at her parents’ flat under Marian’s watchful eye.

      And what was Ellie’s slant on all this? She talked about fabulous meals she’d eaten, and celebrities she’d met. She mentioned the opera, and the ballet, and private viewings at art galleries.

      But she said nothing about Alex Fabian himself, the man who was providing all these earthly delights. And demanding—what, in return? Just, it seemed, the pleasure of Ellie’s company.

      Maybe he’d recognised her intrinsic innocence, and decided to respect it, although that kind of consideration seemed unlikely from someone who clearly lived his life on the fast track.

      So, perhaps it was just the attraction of opposites. Whatever, he was coming down this weekend to become formally engaged to Ellie, having apparently first sought the permission of her mother and stepfather.

      Very dear and old-fashioned of him, Lou thought, wrinkling her nose in a faint unease she was unable to explain.

      And it had resulted in a string of frenetic instructions from Marian, who wanted Virginia Cottage at its quaint and sparkling best, to provide the perfect setting for such a momentous event.

      Lou found Ellie in the drawing room, curled up in the corner of a sofa. She didn’t fit her mother’s description of ‘silly’ at all. Instead she looked remarkably serious—rather like a small creature caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

      ‘Hey there,’ Lou said gently. ‘Come and peel some potatoes for this man of yours. I thought I’d do rosti with the duck.’

      ‘OK. Fine.’ Ellie summoned a wan smile as she followed her to the kitchen. She sat at the table, staring without enthusiasm at the bowl of vegetables awaiting her attention.

      ‘Isn’t this a little early for bridal nerves?’ Lou enquired, surveying her with concern as she handed over an apron and a paring knife, then began swiftly and deftly to prepare the mushrooms for the soup. ‘You aren’t even engaged yet.’

      ‘No, but I will be in a few hours’ time.’

      ‘But only if that’s what you want,’ Lou countered, frowning. ‘So—is it?’

      ‘Of course.’ Ellie tilted a charming chin. ‘How could it not be?’

      ‘You tell me,’ Lou said wryly. ‘You look like someone under sentence of death.’

      ‘Don’t be absurd,’ Ellie said shortly. ‘Alex is an incredible man, and I’m going to have an amazing life with him. No one in her right mind is going to turn that away.’

      Lou reached for another mushroom. That, she thought, didn’t sound like Ellie at all. More as if she was repeating something she’d been told. Something that had been impressed upon her.

      I detect Marian’s fine white hand in this, she told herself grimly.

      She said quietly, ‘Ellie—you do love him, don’t you?’

      ‘Naturally.’ Ellie hacked the skin from an inoffensive potato. ‘It’s all happened a little fast—that’s all.’

      ‘Then tell him you need more time. If he cares for you, he’ll understand.’

      Ellie shook her head. She said, ‘Time is something I—don’t have.’

      ‘Oh, God.’ Lou came to an apprehensive halt in her preparations. ‘Ellie—you’re not pregnant, are you?’

      Ellie stared at her in astonishment. ‘Of course not. How could I possibly be?’

      Lou shrugged uncomfortably. ‘People in love are usually—lovers too,’ she suggested. ‘And accidents happen.’

      Her stepsister flushed. ‘Well, not in our case. Because we—don’t…’

      ‘Oh,’ Lou said, adding mendaciously, ‘I see.’

      Although she didn’t know why she should be so surprised, she thought, turning back to the mushrooms. After all, sex before marriage wasn’t obligatory. And in a sharp-eyed village, where any kind of privacy was at a premium, and your beloved still resided with a mother who tracked his every move, it was virtually impossible, as she knew to her cost.

      But, as David had said ruefully, there was no real hurry when they had the rest of their lives together. And what could she do but reluctantly agree?

      However, Alex Fabian didn’t live his life under the spotlight of parental disapproval, she thought. On the contrary. So, why this uncharacteristic restraint?

      She said, ‘Then what’s the matter? Because there’s clearly something.’

      Ellie was silent for a moment. She said, ‘He—he scares me a little. To be honest, he always has.’

      ‘Then why on earth did you go out with him?’ Lou demanded, bewildered.

      Ellie shrugged. ‘Oh, I wasn’t very happy at the time,’ she said evasively. ‘I thought it might—take my mind off things.’

      ‘And did it?’

      Ellie’s laugh sounded a little forced. ‘Well, of course. Alex demands—total concentration at all times. And now we’re going to be married,’ she added brightly. ‘So everything’s worked out for the best.’

      ‘In this best of all possible worlds,’ Lou murmured with irony. ‘And maybe you should leave the potatoes to me, love. There’ll be none left at the rate you’re going.’

      ‘Oh, Lou, I’m sorry.’ Ellie looked with contrition at the results of her labours.

      ‘Don’t worry about it.’ Lou rinsed her hands. ‘The future Mrs Fabian will never have to bother with such mundane tasks, anyway. So go and make yourself look gorgeous for him.’

      ‘Yes,’ Ellie said slowly. ‘I suppose so.’ She looked up at the clock, her expression blank. ‘He’ll be here soon. Time’s running out.’ And she wandered off, leaving Lou staring after her, perplexed, and frankly worried.

      Ellie, she thought, bore no resemblance to a girl about to say ‘yes’ to the man she adored.

      She wondered if she ought to talk to Marian about it, then dismissed the idea, knowing that it would be seen as interference rather than intervention.

      And Ellie wasn’t a child any more. She had to work out her own salvation. And whether that would include Alex Fabian was entirely her own decision.

      Left to herself, she worked steadily, and competently. Soon the ducklings were waiting on their rack, the vegetables prepared, the soup simmering, and a bowl of Chantilly cream whisked up to accompany the dessert of fresh local strawberries.

      As David’s wife, she might always have to do her own cooking, she thought with faint amusement, but she didn’t have one iota of envy for Ellie’s carefree future. David was her rock, and she’d never entertained the СКАЧАТЬ