Free Comparative Strangers by Sara Craven Page B

expect you have other things to discuss.’
    Amanda made some non-committal response, and changed the subject. She supposed that, if her engagement to Malory was to continue for any length of time, she would have to take a surface interest at least in what went on at the laboratories.
    When dinner was over, she danced with everyone who asked her, responding demurely to some of the heavy-handed gallantry to which she was subjected, particularly by the older men. She began to wish she’d worn something rather less striking. She felt like a bird of paradise who’d fluttered inadinto a dovecote.
    It was almost a relief to find herself claimed by Malory.
    ‘Congratulations,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘You’ve taken them all by storm.’
    ‘Oh, don’t,’ she said, distressed. ‘I feel such a fraud.’
    ‘Then, don’t’ he said. ‘You’ve provided them with a far more enjoyable evening than they’ve ever had before—endless food for speculation.’
    ‘And you don’t mind that?’
    ‘Not really. You see, they’re my people. There’s very little malice there.’
    ‘You’re lucky’ she said bitterly. ‘It’s been absolute hell at my office.’ She forced a smile. ‘It’s only when you’ve made a mistake that you find out what people really think of you.’
    Malory said drily, ‘That can sometimes be quite comforting.’
    She could see that it could be—for him. She’d already discovered through the course of the evening how highly Malory was regarded and respected by his workforce. But then, she thought sourly, he paid their salaries. And immediately castigated herself silently for being a bitch.
    He was certainly, she thought, a much better dancer than she would ever have given him credit for.
    She said rather challengingly, ‘You must hate this kind of music.’
    His brows lifted. ‘What makes you say that?’
    ‘Well—it’s a long way from Donizetti.’
    ‘There’s room for both.’ He gave her a long look. ‘One of these days I’ll have to prove to you that I’m not as hidebound as you think.’
    She said rather too hurriedly, 'I'll take your word for it,‘ and felt a stab of relief that the dance was coming to an end. But to her surprise, as the tempo of the music slowed and became dreamy, Malory pulled her back into his arms, his hands sliding down round her waist to hold her closer.
    ‘Don’t make a fuss,’ he directed under his breath. ‘It’s only what they’ll expect of us, after all. Put your arms round my neck.’
    Stiffly and reluctantly, she did as she was told. It annoyed her that he could be relaxed and casual about it all. She stole a furtive glance at her wrist-watch. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait for the evening to be over.
    But, even when the dancing was finished, there were other formalities to be gone through, and goodbyes to be said. It was ages before she sat beside Malory in his car, speeding quietly through the darkness.
    She sighed quietly, and he gave her a swift sideways glance. ‘Did you hate it all very much?’
    ‘No, I didn’t,’ she discovered to her surprise. ‘Everyone was so kind, and welcoming.’ She added awkwardly, ‘Any problems were all in my own head.’
    ‘I think that applies to most of us.’
    She said stiltedly, ‘It must have been difficult for you, too.’ She thought of Clare, whom Malory had probably hoped to present to his workforce as his future wife at that very party. ‘You must have thought how very—different everything could have been. I keep forgetting I’m not the only injured party.’
    ‘There’s little point in endlessly going over what might have been,’ he said drily. ‘I’ve learned to resign myself. I advise you to do the same.’
    ‘Maybe it will be easier with a change of scene.’
    ‘You’re planning to go away?’ he asked with polite interest. ‘Any particular destination in mind?’
    ‘Not yet. I can’t make any firm arrangements really, until all this is over.’
    ‘Well, you shouldn’t