“Yes, I know he will.”
Mark said: “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here!”
Diana reached across and took Mark’s hand. “We love each other,” she said to Mervyn.
“Aye.” For the first time, the hint of a sneer appeared on his face, but it passed quickly. “Aye, I think you do.”
Was he going soft? This was not like him at all. How much did the widow have to do with the transformation? “Did Mrs. Lenehan tell you to come and speak to me?” Diana said suspiciously.
“No—but she knows what I’m going to say.”
Mark said: “I wish you’d hurry up and say it.”
Mervyn looked scornful. “Don’t push it, lad—Diana’s still my wife.”
Mark stood his ground. “Forget it,” he said. “You have no claim on her, so don’t try to make one. And don’t call me lad, Grandpa.”
Diana said: “Don’t start that. Mervyn, if you’ve got something to say, come out with it, and stop trying to throw your weight around.”
“All right, all right. It’s just this.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to stand in your way. I’ve asked you to come back to me and you’ve turned me down. If you think this chap can succeed where I’ve failed, and make you happy, then good luck to you both. I wish you well.” He paused, and looked from one to the other of them. “That’s it.”
There was a moment’s silence. Mark was about to say something, but Diana got in first. “You bloody hypocrite!” she said. She had seen in a flash what was really going on in Mervyn’s mind, and she surprised herself with the fury of her reaction. “How dare you!” she spat.
He was startled. “What? Why ... ?”
“What rubbish, saying you won’t stand in our way. Don’t you condescend to wish us luck, as if you were making some kind of sacrifice. I know you only too damn well, Mervyn Lovesey: the only time you ever give something up is when you don’t want it anymore!” She could see that everyone in the compartment was listening avidly, but she was too riled to care. “I know what you’re up to. You had it off with that widow last night, didn’t you?”
“No!”
“No?” She watched him carefully. She thought he was probably telling the truth. “It was close, though, wasn’t it?” she said; and she could see by his face that she had guessed right this time. “You’ve fallen for her, and she likes you, and now you don’t want me anymore—that’s the truth of the matter, isn’t it? Now admit it!”
“I’ll not admit any such thing—”
“Because you haven’t got the courage to be honest. But I know the truth and everyone else on the plane suspects it. I’m disappointed in you, Mervyn. I thought you had more guts.”
“Guts!” That stung him.
“That’s right. But instead you had to make up a pitiful story about not standing in our way. Well, you have gone soft—soft in the head. I wasn’t born yesterday and you can’t fool me so easily!”
“All right, all right,” he said, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’ve made a peace offering and you’ve spurned it. Please yourself.” He stood up. “From the way you talk, anybody would think I was the one who had run off with a lover.” He went to the doorway. “Let me know when you get wed. I’ll send you a fish slice.” He went out.
“Well!” Diana’s blood was still up. “The nerve of the man!” She looked around at the other passengers. Princess Lavinia looked away haughtily, Lulu Bell grinned, Ollis Field frowned disapprovingly and Frankie Gordino said: “Attagirl!”
Finally she looked at Mark, wondering what he had thought of Mervyn’s performance and her outburst. To her surprise he was grinning broadly. His smile was infectious, and she found herself grinning back. “What’s so funny?” she said with a giggle.
“You were magnificent,” he said. “I’m proud of you. And I’m pleased.”
“Why pleased?”
“You just stood up to Mervyn for the first time in your life.”
Was that true? She thought it was. “I suppose I did.”
“You’re not scared of him anymore, are you?”
She thought about it. “You’re right. I’m not.”
“Do you realize what that means?”
“It means I’m not scared of him.”
“It means more than that. It means you don’t love him anymore.”
“Does it?” she said thoughtfully. She had been telling herself that she stopped loving Mervyn ages ago, but now she looked into her heart and realized that it was not so. All summer, even while she was deceiving him, she had remained in his thrall. He had retained some kind of hold over her even after she left him, and on the plane she had been full of remorse and had thought of going back to him. But not any longer.
Mark said: “How would you feel if he went off with the widow?”
Without thinking, she said: “Why should I care?”
“See?”
She laughed. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s over at last.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
As the Clipper began its descent to Shediac Bay in the St. Lawrence Gulf, Harry was having second thoughts about steal ing Lady Oxenford’s jewels.
His will had been weakened by Margaret. Just to sleep with her in a bed at the Waldorf Hotel, and wake up and order breakfast from room service, was worth more than jewels. But he was also looking forward to going to Boston with her, and living in lodgings, helping her to become independent, and getting to know her really well. Her excitement was infectious, and he shared her thrilled anticipation of their simple life together.
But all that would change if he robbed her mother.
Shediac was the last stop before New York. He had to make up his mind quickly. This would be his last chance to get into the hold.
He wondered again if he could find a way to have Margaret and the jewels both. First of all, would she ever know that he had stolen them? Lady Oxenford would discover the loss when she opened her trunk, presumably at the Waldorf. But no one would know whether the jewels had been taken on the plane, or before, or since. Margaret knew Harry was a thief, so she would certainly suspect him; but if he denied it, would she believe him? She might.
Then what? They would live in poverty in Boston while he had a hundred thousand dollars in the bank! But that would not be for long. She would find some way of returning to England and joining the women’s army, and he would go to Canada and become a fighter pilot. The war might last a year or two, maybe longer. When it was over, he would take his money out of the bank and buy that country house; and perhaps Margaret would come and live there with him ... and then she would want to know where the money had come from.
Whatever happened, sooner or later he would have to tell her.
But later might be better than sooner.
He was going to have to give her some excuse for his staying on the plane at Shediac. He could not tell her he felt ill, for then she would want to stay on board with him, and that would spoil everything. He had to make sure she went ashore and left him alone.
He glanced at her across the aisle. At that moment she was fastening her seat belt, pulling in her stomach. In a vivid flash of imagination he saw her sitting there naked, in the same pose, with her bare breasts outlined by the light from the low windows, a tuft of chestnut hair peeping out from between her thighs, and her long legs stretched across the floor. Would he not be a fool, he thought, to risk losing her for the sake of a handful of rubies?
But it was not a handful of rubies, it was the Delhi Suite, worth a hundred grand, enough to turn Harry into
