Arthur Leighton, when he’d returned from the bar, had looked embarrassed on her behalf. Those kind eyes had been full of pity for her and she didn’t want his pity. No. She didn’t want it at all.
She’d pack her bags and tomorrow morning make enquiries as to the next ship back to England. Arthur could arrange it all for her and Douglas would have to pay for it. She knew Arthur would help her. He was the only person she trusted. Maybe she had nothing and no one to go back to in England, but anything, any job, no matter how humble, would be preferable to the torturous situation here. She wouldn’t even need to go through the shame of a divorce. The marriage was unconsummated and could surely be annulled. But she would think about all that later. Besides, it didn’t even matter: she had no intention of ever marrying again.
Deciding to start packing immediately, she clambered out of bed and went over to the wardrobe. Her suitcases, which had been stacked on top, had disappeared. The packing would have to wait until tomorrow. As she went back to bed, she tripped and stubbed her toe, slumping to her knees on the polished wood floor. Nothing was going her way. Powerless, robbed of all agency, even over her own belongings.
At some point, she must have crawled back into bed and drifted off to sleep. The next thing she was aware of was someone silhouetted against the muslin drapery of the open windows. Douglas was here in her bedroom.
How the hell did he have the nerve to come in here uninvited after what had happened? Feeling angry but vulnerable, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. He moved towards her and sat down at the foot of the bed. In the pale moonlight she could see that his hair was wet. She drew her knees up to her chest but said nothing.
‘I’m sorry, Evelyn. I behaved badly. You don’t need to tell me. I’ve already had Arthur Leighton reading me the riot act.’
She remained silent.
He spoke again. ‘Only, I didn’t want a fuss. No party. I told Veronica that. But the bloody woman’s a law unto her self. And I told you too. Didn’t I? I said I didn’t want a big do.’
‘So it’s my fault, is it?’
‘Well you could have told her you didn’t want to go to the damned club.’
‘She’s your friend. I barely know the woman. It wasn’t my place to interfere and anyway I thought you’d agreed. I didn’t know all those dreadful people would be there. She said it would be just the four of us.’ Indignation was mounting. How had what started out as an apology from him turned into an accusation of her? ‘I’ve never felt so humiliated and embarrassed in my entire life. I can’t stand your horrible club. I can’t stand Veronica Leighton and I can’t stand you.’
To her horror he started to laugh. ‘That’s a relief. I thought it was just me.’
Ignoring his amusement, she said, ‘Look, I think we both need to acknowledge this was a crazy idea. We should never have gone ahead with it. I’ll pack my things tomorrow morning and ask Arthur if he’ll help me sort out a passage back to England.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m sure you’ll be as relieved as I to see me go but I expect you to pay the travel expenses. It’s the least you can do.’ She could feel herself shaking with relief – she’d managed to stand up for herself.
He made a little snorting noise. ‘I really have screwed up, haven’t I? Arthur told me I had. He told me I didn’t deserve you. He seems to have a bit of a crush on you himself. Singing your praises he was.’
Evie didn’t know what to say. She needed to keep on track and get things sorted once and for all. ‘We’re both intelligent enough to acknowledge that this whole thing was a foolish gamble. It’s a pity we didn’t realise that this morning. But we can arrange for an annulment once I’m back in England.’ She swallowed again, nervous, but determined. ‘I’ll see my solicitor as soon as I reach London. I will of course expect you to pay any costs involved.’
‘No.’
‘You won’t pay the costs? It’s the least you should do after what I’ve gone through.’
‘No. I don’t want to annul the marriage. I don’t want you to leave. I’m sorry we got off to a bad start but that’s not a reason to give up before we’ve even given it a go.’
‘You must have drunk more than I thought. You’re clearly still intoxicated.’
‘I’m sober as a judge.’ He held a hand out in front of her. ‘Look. Steady as a rock.’
‘I can’t imagine how that’s possible. You must be immune to alcohol.’
‘It probably has something to do with the fact that I’ve been for a swim in the sea to sober up.’
‘What?’
‘Arthur insisted. He poured black coffee down me then drove to the beach and we went swimming. Always the best way to clear your head.’
Evie found herself imagining him running down the beach in the moonlight, plunging naked into the sea, and tried to force the image from her mind. She mustn’t allow herself to weaken.
‘Will you give me another chance, Evelyn? We got off on the wrong foot but maybe we can make it work. Surely it’s
