A High Price To Pay. Sara Craven

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think any deal on earth could persuade me to be your servant?’ Alison asked dazedly. ‘My God, you have some gall!’

      ‘Listen to me,’ he said impatiently. ‘If you agree to what I want, you can have the lot. The house as your own, a self-contained flat for your mother—anything you wish.’ He hesitated, then added flatly, ‘And I understand from Liddell that your sister’s school fees are a problem. I’ll pay them, and see her through university too, if she makes the grade.’

      Alison got to her feet. ‘I wouldn’t have any more Scotch,’ she said sarcastically. ‘You’re obviously not well.’

      He gave a short derisive laugh. ‘In other words, I’m either drunk, or out of my mind! I’m neither, I assure you. I’ve thought it all out very carefully, and it seems to me to be an ideal solution to a number of mutual problems.’

      ‘I think a good domestic staff agency would be an even better solution, and cheaper in the long run.’ She began to move towards the door, but he came after her and took hold of her arm, halting her.

      She tried angrily to shake herself free. ‘Let go of me!’

      ‘When you’ve heard me out,’ he said inexorably. ‘Sit down, Alison.’

      ‘There’s no point in my listening to any more of this. I have no intention of becoming your servant!’ She stared at him in hostility and defiance.

      ‘I’m not asking you to be a servant,’ he said. ‘Actually, I’m asking you to become my wife.’

      There was a long pause, then Alison said shakily, ‘You really must be—insane.’

      ‘On the contrary, I’m perfectly sober, and in my right mind.’ He pushed her back on to the sofa. ‘Will you just listen for two minutes? I want this house to be run with the kind of calm efficiency I’ve noticed on each of my visits, and in spite of the fact you look about sixteen years old, I now know this is all your doing. But it doesn’t stop there. I also need a hostess—someone used to entertaining—someone to accompany me in public when necessary. In other words, I want a wife.’

      ‘Then I’m sure there’s a whole queue of willing ladies only too happy to accommodate you,’ she said stonily. ‘Why pick on me?’

      ‘If I wanted romance—passion—all the usual ingredients, why indeed?’ His voice was ironic. ‘But I don’t. I want the practical advantages of marriage without the emotional involvement. And if you agreed to marry me, that’s the kind of arrangement it would be.’ His brows rose at the sound of her little indrawn breath. ‘Or did you by some chance think I might have fallen madly in love with you?’

      ‘No,’ she said tautly, ‘I didn’t.’

      ‘Then we’ve achieved one level of understanding at least,’ he observed sardonically. ‘Think about it, Alison. Your old home, and comfort and security for your family, in return for continuing to run this house, and acting the part of the dutiful wife in public.’

      ‘I think marriage to you is a high price to pay, even for total security,’ she said quietly.

      ‘But as I’ve tried to make clear, it wouldn’t be a marriage in any real sense,’ he pointed out impatiently.

      ‘I understand that.’ Alison shook her head, aware of a growing feeling of unreality. ‘But would you really be content with such a cold-blooded arrangement for the rest of your life?’

      ‘If I thought for one minute I was capable of finding the kind of genuine happiness my parents enjoyed, then probably not.’ Nick Bristow gave a faint shrug. ‘But that isn’t going to happen. And I’m certainly not interested in saddling myself with declarations of undying love, and the inevitable tantrums when the thing comes unstuck. I know damned well what an ephemeral thing eternal passion is, at least where women are concerned.’

      ‘Are men any different?’ Alison asked steadily. ‘Perhaps you’ve just been unfortunate.’

      ‘Maybe.’ He shrugged again. ‘I’m in no real position to judge, but among my own friends I’ve seen any number totally committed to their marriages, and unable to see that their devoted wives are already looking over their shoulders, waiting for the next well-heeled idiot to come along so they can play change partners.’ His mouth curled slightly. ‘That isn’t what I want. And I can’t see why you and I shouldn’t reach some kind of bargain which would satisfy us both.’ He paused, the blue eyes measuring her. ‘As an extra incentive,’ he said, ‘I know of someone who might be interested in buying your father’s works as a going concern, instead of letting it fall into the hands of the receiver.’

      ‘How wonderful to be able to exert such influence,’ she said quietly. ‘I only wish my future wasn’t going to be part of all this wheeling and dealing. It tends to have an unsettling effect.’

      The dark face held impatience. ‘What reassurance can I offer? If you want a written contract, then I’ll have one drawn up. You can impose whatever safeguards seem good to you. A mutual guarantee, if you like, that we won’t interfere in each other’s lives.’

      ‘In other words, I’m not to enquire too closely into where you go, or what company you keep,’ Alison said scornfully. ‘I find that a revolting idea!’

      ‘I can’t see why any extra-mural activities of mine should affect you at all,’ he said cynically. He paused. ‘Unless, of course, it’s you that has fallen madly in love with me.’

      ‘Nothing,’ she assured him, ‘could be further from the truth.’

      ‘That’s what I thought,’ he said drily. ‘So why introduce emotional hassle into what is purely a business arrangement? If I were offering you any other kind of job, you wouldn’t be probing into my moral rectitude.’

      There was a kind of brutal truth in that, she was forced to admit.

      ‘At the risk of probing further,’ she said, after a brief hesitation, ‘I thought there was a lady in your life already—someone you planned to marry, when it was convenient …’

      ‘You mean when her divorce became final?’ He studied Alison’s responding flush with open mockery. ‘I’m afraid you’re under a misapprehension, my dear. And so is the lady, as I’ve had to make clear to her. She’ll be far better off staying with her husband. He may be dull, but he stands to inherit a baronetcy.’

      Alison’s eyes widened indignantly. ‘Isn’t that rather callous?’

      ‘It might be,’ he agreed, ‘if I’d helped to put her marriage on the rocks on the first place. As it happens, I didn’t. Nor do I appreciate her throwing my name to any tame gossip columnist she had hanging round.’ The firm mouth hardened into implacability, and in spite of herself, Alison shivered. ‘I have no intention of being dragged into the Monclairs’ current bout of mud-slinging, and finding myself an alternative bride without delay will help to snuff out any further speculation in that quarter.’ He smiled faintly. ‘As you see, the favours work both ways.’

      Alison ran the tip of her tongue around her drying lips. ‘If you want simply to be engaged—on a temporary basis—then maybe …’

      ‘I don’t,’ he interrupted. ‘I’ve told you my terms. I want a real engagement, to be followed in due course by a conventional wedding—although

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