Blackmail. PENNY JORDAN
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also worked for Westbury’s, but in different departments, and the three of them got on exceptionally well. The Personnel Officer had suggested that Lee might like to share with them, when she explained that she had no accommodation in London. The previous member of the trio whom Lee was replacing had gone to work abroad, and the arrangement had worked out very well. She would have to write to them and let them know that it would be some time before she returned, and also to warn them about sending on her mail. They were good friends, but Lee couldn’t help wondering what they would make of the situation. She could hardly not tell them about the marriage when Michael had witnessed it, but she could ask them to be discreet.
After the ceremony Gilles dismissed Michael with promises to think carefully about supplying Westbury’s with wine, and as Lee saw Michael’s taxi disappearing towards the airport, she felt as though she were saying goodbye to her last friend.
Why Gilles had chosen Paris for their marriage Lee did not know, unless it was merely that he wished to avoid the speculation of a local wedding, although there was bound to be that, surely, when he returned to the château with his bride?
They had been married in the morning, and now it was afternoon and she was a wife of three hours, although Lee reflected that she doubted that she would ever be able to think of Gilles as her husband. Her enemy and tormentor perhaps; but her husband—never!
They had a palatial suite of rooms in an exclusive hotel, and when they returned there after the ceremony, Lee took the precaution of checking that the communicating door between the bedrooms was locked, before stepping out of the suit she had been married in, and having a brief shower.
The blue linen suit was attractive enough, but it was a far cry from the virginal white she had every right—and desire—to wear, although of course she would wear that for Drew. But somehow it wouldn’t feel the same; the ceremony would be besmirched by the memory of today; of the curt words in French; the touch of Gilles’ hand as he guided hers in the register before tears had blinded her when she tried to write her name.
‘Lee, open this door!’
The cold voice demanded admittance. She dressed hurriedly, staring at the locked door.
‘Open it, Lee, or I shall ask the maid to come up with the pass-key.’
The threat decided her. She crossed the dove-grey carpet and unlocked the door. Gilles stood there, wearing the suit he had worn for the marriage ceremony, a soft, pale grey wool, impeccably tailored, and as he strode into her bedroom and removed the jacket, dropping it carelessly on her bed, she saw the name ‘Pierre Cardin’ stitched neatly inside.
‘Couldn’t you have worn anything better than that?’ His eyes swept contemptuously over her suit.
Lee refused to feel threatened by the way he was prowling round her room, like a hungry panther waiting for his next meal.
‘I didn’t come prepared for a wedding.’
‘You need new clothes.’
Lee stared at him resentfully.
‘This afternoon we shall visit some of the couture houses and see if something can be organised.’ Lee opened her mouth to protest, but was forestalled. ‘As my wife you will have a position to maintain. After the vintage I entertain the buyers. As my wife and hostess you will be expected to mingle with women whose clothes and jewels come only from the finest houses.’
‘The vintage?’ Lee went white with dismay. ‘But that’s six months away!’
‘So?’ Gilles was very cool. ‘Is six months of your life too high a price to pay for your fiancé’s peace of mind, and my silence? By then Louise will have turned her attentions in other directions.’
‘And you will be able to search for a dutiful, virginal bride in peace.’
Gilles inclined his head.
‘You appear to take an inordinate amount of interest in the chastity of my eventual bride, but as she will be the mother of my children, it is only natural that I should wish her to be pure and untainted.’
‘Unlike her husband.’
‘Silence! You go too far! Do you goad me because I refuse to join you in the gutter? Be careful that I do not teach you the real meaning of degradation!’
NEVER HAD she seen so many breathtakingly elegant clothes, Lee thought in a daze. She and Gilles had been sitting on the dainty gilt chairs in this pale pink and dove grey salon for half an hour while model after model paraded in front of them, and so far Gilles had not said one word, apart from introducing Lee to the black-gowned vendeuse as his bride.
‘My wife is young and has had a convent education,’ he said at last, ‘and I should like to see her dressed accordingly.’
The vendeuse’s brow cleared instantly.
‘We have an entire trousseau designed for a young South American girl, which is no longer required. An elopement, you understand, about which the family do not wish to talk. They are very proud and the girl had been reared from birth for the grand mariage
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