Knight To The Rescue

‘I thought I made it clear, Audrey,’ he ground out, ‘that I’m not in the market for filling in for Russell, in any capacity.’

Audrey was glad Elliot couldn’t see the heat zooming into her cheeks. She wished he hadn’t used quite those words. It sent the most amazingly explicit and arousing images to her mind.

‘Isn’t there anyone else you can invite?’ His tone was frustrated. ‘Someone your own age?’

‘Not really,’ she replied, making a huge effort to get a hold of herself. ‘No one I’d be proud of. And Elliot, I want to be proud of my date, don’t you see? It’s...it’s very important to me.’ Audrey knew this final plea was hitting below the belt. Out of desperation she was deliberating playing on Elliot’s capacity for compassion.

His sigh was one of weary resignation. ‘Yes, I do see. Unfortunately... Very well, Audrey. Give me your address and tell me what time I’m expected. And perhaps your last name might be a good idea. I never did find that out.’

Success brought both triumph and a measure of agitation. He was coming. He was actually coming. Shivers of unbidden excitement ran up and down her spine.

Audrey somehow managed to give him her home address at Newport, her full name of Audrey Henrietta Farnsworth, as well as her phone number—just in case a disaster prevented his coming. But please, lord, no disasters, she prayed!

‘Could you be here soon after seven?’ she requested breathlessly. ‘We’re having drinks before dinner. Oh, and wear a dinner-jacket. It’s formal.’

When he hesitated again, she said worriedly, ‘You do have a dinner-jacket, don’t you?’

There was a smile in his voice when he answered. ‘Yes, Audrey, I have a dinner-jacket.’

‘I thought you might. Considering...’

‘Considering what?’

‘Considering you’re rich and...well...obviously given to socialising.’

‘I haven’t been doing much of that lately,’ he muttered. ‘Perhaps I should have. And what are you going to wear, Audrey? Does formal mean a long dress?’

‘Long dresses are out at the moment. Calf-length are in. I’m not sure what I’ll wear yet. I was going to go shopping with Lavinia on Thursday after work. I’ll probably end up buying something glitzy. Lavinia says glitz is definitely in.’ Audrey stopped to draw breath. She knew she was babbling, but nerves affected her that way sometimes.

‘Has it ever occurred to you that what’s in might not suit you?’ came his drawled remark. ‘Or that Lavinia might choose something that suits her, not you?’

‘Yes,’ she confessed. ‘That has ocurred to me, actually.’

‘Well, why not buy something all by yourself, something you like?’

This idea still flustered her, because she truly had no confidence where her own taste was concerned. ‘I’d like to,’ she said unhappily. ‘The trouble is I...I’m never sure what to buy. The sales ladies tell you everything looks nice and in the end I feel totally confused. I bought an evening dress by myself not long ago and Lavinia said it was a disaster. Totally lifeless and dreary on me.’

‘What colour was it?’

‘Plain cream, in a sort of silk material.’

‘And the style?’

‘Nothing spectacular. Long tight sleeves, fitted bodice, boat neck, lowish back. The skirt flares out.’

‘Do you still have it?’

‘Y...yes, but—’

‘Let me make a suggestion,’ he cut in forcibly. ‘Wear it! Cream sounds a perfect colour for you. Put your hair up and wear plain gold earrings. No other jewellery, not even a watch. Neutral shades around your eyes. Plenty of blusher. Bronze lipstick and nail polish. Got that?’

‘Well, yes...but...but...what are you,’ she asked with a nervous laugh, ‘an expert on women’s fashions?’

‘No. An expert on women.’

Her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t doubt him for a moment.

For the first time Audrey wondered about the past women in his life. First his old girlfriends. Then his wife, Moira... Had she been beautiful? Sexy? Sophisticated? Had he loved her to distraction?

Of course, shot back the answer.

Audrey was startled by the intense jab of jealousy this thought brought. She hadn’t really felt jealousy when she’d found out about Diane and Russell. Only pain at what his disloyalty revealed about herself, that she was incapable of inspiring a true and deep love. Yet with Elliot she was torn with envy to think of his even being with another woman, let alone loving her.

Did that mean she had fallen in love with him?

She hoped not. She really hoped not. The likes of Russell were easy to get over. Elliot was a different kettle of fish entirely. A man like him came along only once in a girl’s lifetime and would be impossible to forget.

‘Now promise me you won’t let Lavinia dress you,’ he was saying. ‘That you’ll do what I said.’

‘I promise. And Elliot...thank you...’

‘Don’t mention it.’

He hung up and Audrey was left clasping the receiver to her ear. Her hand began to shake as she lowered it slowly on to its cradle. Friday... It seemed a million light years away.

CHAPTER THREE

‘MAY I come in, Audrey?’

‘No, no, Lavinia, don’t come in. I’m still getting dressed. I don’t want anyone to see me till I’m all ready.’

‘Really, all this mystery!’ Lavinia said peevishly through the door. ‘First you won’t tell us anything about this Elliot you’ve invited. Now you won’t let me see what you look like. I just thought you might need some help with your hair. After all, you didn’t go to the hairdresser’s with me this afternoon, even though your father arranged for you to have time off work.’

‘My hair’s fine,’ she called back. ‘I did it myself.’

‘That’s what I’m afraid of, dear. You know how—’

‘Lavinia!’ Audrey burst out with uncharacteristic assertiveness. ‘Just leave me be for once!’

‘You don’t have to take that tone with me, Audrey. Truly, I don’t know what’s got into you today. Turning twenty-one is not a licence to be rude!’

Guilt assailed Audrey as she heard Lavinia flounce off, muttering. The impulse to go after her, call out, say something placatory was strong. But she was afraid Lavinia would say something patronising about her appearance, undermining the pleasurable confidence that was growing in Audrey every single second.

She turned to stare at herself in the full-length mirror one more time. She could hardly believe how good she looked. The cream silk dress didn’t water down her fair complexion as Lavinia had said it would. It gave her skin a softly glowing sheen. The evidence before her eyes suggested to Audrey that the bright reds and pinks and purples Lavinia had been encouraging her to wear—supposedly to put colour in her face—had been having the opposite effect, making her looked washed-out and sickly.

As for her hair... Audrey had never felt entirely comfortable with either the burgundy colour or the tightly curled perm which fluffed it out every which way. But Lavinia and her hairdresser had insisted on both, saying her natural brown hair was thin and mousy, that her small face needed dramatic balance, whatever that was. Despite some misgivings, she had taken their advice because they were the experts, and to give them the benefit of the doubt it was a common enough style and colour these days. Audrey had seen it to good effect on other women.

But obviously not on her.