Virginia looked at her watch. "I should go. Felicity's expecting me for dinner."
"There's heaps of time. And you must stay and meet Noel. He won't be long now. Now that you know about him, please don't go.
And it'll make it much easier for you, telling Fa, if you've met Noel and can say how much you like him."
Virginia smiled. Alexa was twenty-one and now a woman of some experience but still wondrously naive. "All right. But don't make it too strong."
Noel had bought the flowers from a street vendor near the office. Carnations and sweet peas and a misting of gypsophila. He had not intended to buy flowers but had seen them as he passed, thought about Alexa, and then gone back to take a second look. The flower-lady was anxious to be home and let him have two bunches for the price of one. Two bunches made a good show.
Nowadays, living in Ovington Street, he walked home from the office each evening. It gave him the chance to stretch his legs and yet was not too great a distance to be tiring at the end of a day's work. It was pleasant to turn in at the end of the street and know that this was where he now belonged.
Domesticity with Alexa, he had discovered, had many advantages, for she had proved to be not only a charming, compliant lover but the most undemanding of companions. At first Noel had harboured fears that she might become possessive, and jealous of any time that he spent away from her. He had suffered such resentments before, and had ended up feeling as though he had a millstone hanging round his neck. But Alexa was different, generous and understanding about evenings when he was committed to giving dinner to some overseas client, or the regular twice-weekly games of squash at his club.
Now, he knew that when he opened the blue front door she would be there, waiting for the sound of his key in the door, running up the stairs from the basement to greet him. He would relax with a drink, take a shower, eat an excellent dinner; later, watch the news, perhaps, or listen to some music. And, finally, bear Alexa off to bed.
His pace quickened. He took the steps in a single stride, juggling with the flowers in order to reach into his trouser pocket for his latchkey. The door, well-oiled, swung silently inwards, and he heard at once the voices from beyond the open drawing-room door. Alexa apparently had a caller. Which was unusual because ever since Noel had moved into Ovington Street, she had firmly kept all visitors at bay.
"… I wish you'd stay for dinner," she was saying. He closed the door, being careful to make no sound. "Can't you ring Felicity and make some excuse?"
The hall table was piled with some person's expensive-looking shopping. He put his brief-case down on the floor.
"No, it would be too rude." A female visitor. He paused for a second to check on his appearance, sagging at the knees in front of the oval mirror, smoothing back his hair with his hand.
"It's grilled trout and almonds…"
He went through the open door. Alexa was on the sofa with her back to him, but her visitor saw him at once, and their eyes met across the room. She had the most astonishingly blue eyes that he had ever seen, and their bright glitter was cool as a challenge.
She said, "Hi!"
Alexa, alerted, sprang up. "Noel. I never heard you come in." She looked rosy and faintly grubby but very sweet. He gave her the flowers and stooped to kiss the top of her head.
"You were talking too hard," he told her, and turned to the guest, who was now on her feet; a tall and stunning blonde, wearing a slender black dress and a huge black velvet bow at the back of her head. "How do you do. I'm Noel Keeling."
"Virginia Aird." Her handshake was firm and friendly and, it occurred to him, at variance with the light in those brilliant eyes. He knew then that Alexa had been confiding, and that this glamorous creature was totally au fait with their situation. It was up to him to carry it off.
"And you're…?"
"My stepmother, Noel." Alexa spoke quickly, which meant that she was a little agitated and somewhat out of her social depth. "She's just down from Scotland to do some shopping. She dropped in out of the blue. It was the most lovely surprise. Oh, what gorgeous flowers. You are dear." She buried her nose in them and sniffed luxuriously. "Why do carnations always make me think of bread sauce?"
Noel smiled at Virginia. "She's got a one-track mind. Food."
"I'll go quickly and put them in water. We're having a drink, Noel."
"So I see."
"Do you want one?"
"Yes, of course, but don't worry, I'll help myself."
She left them bearing her bouquet, headed for the kitchen. Alone with Virginia, Noel turned to her. "Do sit down again. I didn't mean to disturb you." She did so, arranging her long limbs with some grace. "Tell me, when did you come to London? And how long are you staying?"
She explained. A spur-of-the-moment decision, an invitation from an old friend. Her voice was deep, with the attractive trace of an American accent. She had tried to get in touch with Alexa by telephone but had not been successful. Finally, she had just come around and taken Alexa by surprise.
As she told him all this, Noel fixed his drink. Now he brought it back to where she sat, and settled himself in the chair facing her. She had, he noticed, exceptional legs,
"And when are you going back to Scotland?"
"Oh, tomorrow, maybe. Or the day after."
"I heard Alexa inviting you to dinner. I wish you'd stay."
"That's kind of you, but I'm already committed. I shall have to go very soon, but Alexa wanted me to be here when you got home." Her eyes were bright as sapphires, unblinking. "She wanted me to meet you." She was splendidly direct, with no beating about the bush. He decided to meet her challenge head-on.
"I imagine that she's explained the situation to you."
"Yes, she has. I am entirely in the picture."
"I'm glad. It will make things much easier for all of us."
"Have they been difficult?"
"Not at all. But I think her conscience was troubling her."
"Her conscience has always troubled her."
"She's been a little worried about her family."
"Her family means a lot to her. She's had a strange upbringing. It's left her in some ways quite mature, and in others still childlike."
Noel wondered at her saying this. She must realize, surely, that he had already found that out for himself. He said, "She didn't want anybody hurt."
"She's asked me to tell her father."
"I think that's a splendid idea. I have been urging her to do so." He smiled. "Do you imagine that he will appear at our door with a horsewhip?"
"I shouldn't think so." Virginia reached for her handbag, took a cigarette and lit it with a gold lighter. "He's not a man who gives way to his emotions. But I think that, as soon as possible, you should make his acquaintance."
"It was never I who balked at the idea."
She eyed him through the drifting smoke of her cigarette. "I think it would be best if you were to come to Balnaid. Then we would all be around you, and Alexa would have a little moral support."
He realized that he was being invited to stay. In that solid old Edwardian house with the dogs and the conservatory and the country all around. Alexa had spoken to him, with great enthusiasm and at some length, of the joys of Balnaid. The garden, the picnics, the small brother, the grandmother, the old Nanny. He had shown polite interest but not much more. It did not sound like a place where amusing things might happen, and Noel's greatest horror was to be trapped, a guest in another person's house, and bored.
But now, faced by Virginia Aird, he found his preconceptions of Balnaid doing a swift about turn. For this elegant and sophisticated woman, with her mesmerizing eyes and her charming suggestion of a transatlantic drawl, could never be dull. Perceptive enough to leave you alone with The Times, if that was what you wanted, but still the sort of hostess who could, on the spur of the moment, think up some new and amusing ploy or ask a party of entertaining friends around for an impromptu drink. His imagination moved on to other delights. There would probably be some fishing. And shooting, too. Although that wouldn't be much use to Noel because he had never shot. Nevertheless…