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Authors: Margaret Malcolm

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BOOK: Next Door to Romance
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Of course, he wasn't in love with Evadne any more than she was with him, but they had sufficient interests in common for such a marriage to be a success—a tie that wasn't too burdensome for either of them.

At least, that was how he'd seen it, and had thought that Evadne had, too. Now, he wasn't so sure. If her remark about marrying her family's way into local society was a warning, it was in effect reminding him that there were as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it. And only one reason could explain why she had thought fit to give it. Somehow, due to feminine intuition, no doubt, she had decided that she had a possible rival and she intended to make it clear, right from the beginning, that she would not tolerate such a state of affairs if their future was to be a united one.

Mark felt a little breathless. He hadn't realized until now that Evadne had sufficient femininity in her as to make jealousy a possibility.

'Yes, that's an idea,' he repeated. 'But would you like the prospect of being condemned to live in the country all your life?'

Evadne laughed. Really, she and Mark understood one another very well and it was rather an amusing game to convey each other's thoughts in this roundabout way! Mark, she knew, had appreciated her point of view completely—but he had also contrived to call her bluff.

'No, I wouldn't,' she admitted frankly. 'Any more than you would! So it's something we should both bear in mind, don't you think?'

'Oh, I never gave such an idea a thought,' Mark said lightly, and went up to his room feeling satisfied that, on the whole, the little skirmish had done no harm. Possibly quite a lot of good!

To Lisa he gave only a fleeting thought.

'An attractive little soul,' he thought drowsily. 'But not for me, of course! That redheaded vet will take care of that!'

And he went to sleep with an easy mind.

But his sleep might not have been so untroubled had he heard a conversation between Evadne and her father earlier that evening.

It had been a very real disappointment to Simon Cosgrave that Evadne had been a girl, particularly when he was told that his wife would never be able to have another child. He had set his heart on having a son and had taken it for granted that he would get what he wanted. However, in those days he was too busy making his way either to dwell on his disappointment or to spend much time with his wife and his little daughter.

Then when Evadne was about seventeen he had a pleasant surprise. Evadne, whom he had taken for granted would show no more interest or understanding of finance than her mother did, suddenly proved that she was indeed his daughter. She was at an exclusive and very expensive boarding school at the time and one day she turned up without warning at her father's office, only to be told that he was busy and had given instructions that he wasn't to be disturbed.

'And honestly, Miss Evadne, it's more than my job's worth to go against Mr Cosgrave's express orders,' his secretary insisted.

'It'll be more than your job's worth if you don't let me see him,' Evadne said grimly.

It took a little time, but in the end she got her way, and once her father understood what it was all about, he grinned delightedly.

'You're a good girl—and a clever one, Evadne,' he told her. 'Now then, just go through it again—I can't afford to make a mistake, you know!'

Briefly, she had brought him information which she had realized was almost certainly of great value to him. It was based on the fact that there had been a lot of talk recently of a merger between two big firms, but this had been strenuously denied and speculation had died down, particularly as, so far as anyone could discover, there was no contact at all between the two men who would have been principally concerned.

But the daughters of both men were at the same school as Evadne, and what more natural than that both fathers should have turned up to the School Sports Day?

'If you'd come as well, you'd have seen them for yourself,' Evadne had pointed out, not complainingly but as one stating a fact.

Her father had looked at her curiously.

'Do you mind much that I didn't?'

'Not particularly,' she admitted frankly. 'Girls' sports are silly, I think. They can never do as well as men can. But I won't like it if you don't come to the prizegiving at the end of the year. I'll be getting the senior maths prize then.'

'You seem pretty sure of yourself,' Simon commented, amused.

'I am,' Evadne said briefly. 'Well, that's all except that I kept a watch on them and after a time they sort of drifted away and I followed them to the kitchen garden. I hid behind a thick row of beans and I heard what I told you—that they're going to announce the merger the day after tomorrow. So I went back to the school, changed into decent clothes and caught the next train. And I'm quite certain neither of them knew I was listening, so you don't have to worry about that!'

Simon nodded, picked up his telephone and gave a few concise instructions. Then he looked curiously at his daughter.

'If this comes off, I'll make a lot of money,' he told her. 'But what do you get out of it? What shall I give you? You're almost old enough to wear jewellery. Pearls? Or a car of your own as soon as you're old enough to drive?'

'You'd give me those anyway,' Evadne had said shrewdly. 'No, I want you to promise me something—'

'Well?'

'When I'm old enough, Father, I want to help you,' she explained earnestly. 'Oh, not actually in the office. That's a man's job. But you ought to entertain more than you do—and Mother's no good at all at that sort of thing. But I'll see to it I am. And then I think it would be useful for you to have a social contact that might pick up useful information. And that
is
a woman's job!'

'Yes,' Simon said thoughtfully. 'I think you're right there. All right, Evadne. If you're of the same mind in a year or two's time, then it's a deal!'

And with a formality that, between father and daughter, might have struck an onlooker as peculiar, they had gravely shaken hands.

Three years later, Evadne, poised and polished by a final year at a French finishing school, had made her debut as her father's hostess—and Mrs Cosgrave, with a sigh of relief, sat back and relaxed. She was the first to agree that she wasn't any good at that sort of thing. Her Simon had always been so clever, but she'd never been able to keep up with him. Perhaps it was a pity, but there it was. One was made the way one was, and there didn't seem much that could be done about it.

For five or six years the partnership between father and daughter was a complete success with Mark coming increasingly into the picture. The future seemed settled —and obvious.

And then, quite suddenly, it seemed to Evadne, her father's whole outlook on life changed. In fact, what happened was the natural result of what had already been.

Simon had always been proud of the fact that he'd started life a nobody and that he had become a wealthy man was due entirely to his own efforts. He'd liked people to envy him his luck because it gave him an opportunity of emphasizing that it wasn't anything of the sort. It was the result of downright hard work. He said it with relish because he'd enjoyed making money and pitting his brain against other men's.

Then came the time when he felt that there was nothing novel in his day's work. He'd done it all so many times before. Now he wanted to see results. What would the money he'd amassed buy in the way of fresh interests—something he'd never had time to consider before? He gave a lot of thought to the matter and came to the conclusion that any enterprise he took up must have two qualities. It must be something completely new, and it must occupy his mind to the full.

Not immediately did he decide to buy a country estate, but when he did, the idea fascinated him. Not only was there the question of running the place properly, but also that of adapting himself to country ways—of being accepted by other landowners as one of themselves. And why not? He could beat them for brains and he could beat them for wealth—they'd be fools not to welcome him.

Only it hadn't worked out like that. Oh, everyone had been perfectly polite—too polite. And there had been formal invitations—too formal. And that was all.

It irked Simon, but there was apparently nothing he could do about it, at least, not on his own. But how about if he got Evadne to lend a hand?

Her unexpected arrival that evening had given him his opportunity and he came to the point without beating about the bush.

Marriage
was the one way in which they could make their entry into the charmed circle. Evadne's marriage to—she had used her father's phrase when she had talked to Mark—one of the local bigwigs.

'Out of the question,' she had told him with an echo of his own bluntness.

'Nonsense! You've got looks, social ability and money. You could do it as easy as kiss your hand!' he insisted.

'I expect I could, if I put my mind to it,' she said indifferently. 'But I'm not going to!'

They'd argued—Evadne insisting that she'd hate living in the country, and anyway, what about Mark? Her father countered by pointing out that she needn't live in the country all the time, and as for Mark, whether she married him or not, it would be in his own interest to manage her affairs competently. And there they'd stuck—two obstinate people neither of whom would give an inch.

She'd still been brooding over her father's stubbornness when Mark had returned. Before he'd come, she'd almost made up her mind to tell him all about it—of bringing into the open the question of their own marriage. But something in Mark's manner had held her back. With a woman's intuition she had known beyond doubt that despite his assumption of boredom, Mark had enjoyed his evening. Why? Obviously, because of some girl he'd met! And just who that girl was, Evadne was determined to discover.

Not that she thought there was any serious likelihood of Mark losing his head. He knew too well which side of his bread was buttered for that! But one couldn't be too careful, particularly as she had no illusions about him being in love with her, any more than she was with him. Simply, it would be a very satisfactory marriage for both of them.

But men could be oddly blind to their own advantages when a pretty girl was concerned. And Evadne, though, like her father, she had a full appreciation of her own good looks, knew that she wasn't pretty in an appealing way.

It didn't take much effort to decide what to do. Obviously, she must see the girl with whom, presumably, Mark had danced most. It ought not to be difficult to find out who she was—there was a probable link with that redheaded vet. That would be a starting point—

Evadne yawned, dismissed the matter from her mind and settled down to a peaceful night's sleep.

CHAPTER 3

During the night the direction of the wind changed and by morning the sky was full of heavy, black-fringed clouds. A surprisingly chill rain for the time of year was blown in great gusts that temporarily blotted out all but the nearest objects. And then, almost in the matter of moments, the wind dropped, the rain stopped and the sun shone brilliantly, only to fade again with the return of the rain. It was more like spring than summer weather. But at least the rapid changes reflected Lisa's own moods. At one moment the world was a wonderful place full of hope and promise. Then, with disconcerting speed, she would be beset with doubts and fears.

BOOK: Next Door to Romance
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