annoyingly.
‘I think this conversation is rather ridiculous, don't you?’ she asked of Jennifer quickly. ‘Oh, Giles, did you find anything out about that vinaigrette?’ As well as being on the board of several companies Giles was an amateur enthusiast of the world of antiques and Helen had given him a small silver container which Jake had given her for her birthday which was reputed to have belonged to Lady Hamilton herself.
Giles went on to explain that he was still in the process of investigating it, and by mutual consent they moved towards the stairs, Helen walking with Giles ahead of the others. She could vaguely hear Jake relating some outrageously funny anecdote of his trip to the States to Jennifer and she was laughing excitedly. Helen's lips tightened almost imperceptibly. On the rare occasions when she had been depressed enough to complain about her husband to her friend, Jennifer had always sided with her in agreeing that Jake treated her abominably and that she personally found him despicable. And yet whenever they were all together Jennifer behaved as though she found Jake immensely attractive, and for the first time tonight it irritated Helen. She glanced round at them impatiently, a little of her annoyance showing in her face. Jake caught the look, however, and held her gaze for a long disturbing moment. Then Jennifer stumbled, whether by accident or design Helen could not be certain, and caught his arm, and his attention was distracted.
Helen continued up the stairs, but there was an awful shaken feeling gripping her stomach. Jake had not discussed his American trip with her, indeed they had spoken little since his return, and it was infuriating that this knowledge upset her so. When Giles tugged a strand of her hair to attract her attention she turned to him with more enthusiasm than was usual, dazzling him with the brilliance of her smile. She was allowing the whole affair more importance than it demanded and she closed her ears to Jennifer's whispered confidences. Giles didn't appear to notice, so why did she?
The reception lounges at the top of the stairs were filled with people, all talking and laughing and helping themselves to the liberal supply of alcohol, and a major-domo in formal dress announced their names as they entered. One of the Ambassador's aides greeted them politely and introduced them to several other officials, and then someone else was arriving and they were left to mingle.
Helen saw Jake looking about him with interest over the rim of his whisky glass and she sipped her champagne cocktail a little resignedly. She knew that look. It was the predatory look of the tiger when it is getting ready to pounce, and she knew that for the moment Jake's mind was occupied with business. As though to illustrate this point, Jake excused himself from them at that moment on the pretext of speaking to some politician he knew and he disappeared among the crowd almost before anyone had time to voice an objection. Jennifer looked almost pityingly at her friend, and said wryly:
‘I suppose that's the last we can expect to see of your husband for an hour or two. Really, he is the absolute limit, don't you think?'
Helen bent her head, stroking the rim of her glass with an absent finger. ‘I suppose so,’ she conceded quietly.
Giles tucked an arm through each of theirs. ‘I should care,’ he remarked smilingly. ‘At least he's left me with the two most attractive women in the room!'
Helen smiled, and Jennifer gave him a bored wrinkle of her nose. ‘But what are we expected to do, darling? I mean—don't you know anyone of interest?'
Giles frowned and looked about him with concentrated attention. ‘Well, I know President Lbari, over there with his wife. He was at Cambridge with me. His wife's a sweet girl. Used to be a nurse, I believe.'
Jennifer looked bored. ‘Who is that man who is staring at us? That middle-aged man, over there. Do you know him?'
Giles flicked his gaze round. ‘Oh, you mean Bertie Mallard. Yes,’ he nodded his head in acknowledgement of the other man's raised hand. ‘He's Lord Mallard, actually. You've heard me mention him, I'm sure, Jennifer. He's quite an expert on old furniture.'
Jennifer raised her eyes skyward. ‘Heavens!’ she remarked dryly. ‘The excitement of that statement! Don't any interesting people come to these receptions, any young people?'
‘Of course.’ Giles finished his champagne. ‘Come along. We'll wander round. You never know who we may come up with!'
Helen had, perforce, to accompany them, but deep inside she felt frustrated. Jennifer was right. Jake was the absolute limit. Why did he bring her to these affairs if he intended to abandon her?
They wandered round for fully an hour without coming upon Jake and Helen was accepting her fourth glass of champagne when a lazy hand trailed down her arm and she swung round to confront Keith Mannering.
‘Keith!’ she exclaimed, in surprise. ‘What are you doing here?'
Jennifer and Giles turned too. Giles knew Keith quite well and they greeted one another with casual ease. But Jennifer gave him an extravagant smile.
‘Keith darling!’ she cried in her usual effusive manner. ‘How marvellous to see you! I'm sure Helen's delighted, too. Her husband has deserted her and we're all feeling rather sorry for ourselves, aren't we, my pet?'
Helen gave Jennifer a hard stare. The very last thing she wanted was for Keith Mannering to get the wrong idea. She liked him, they were friends, but that was as far as it went.
Not that Keith wasn't a very personable young man; he was. A little older than Helen, tall and slim and boyish, with smooth fair hair falling in a wave across his forehead, he had caused a flutter in several feminine hearts, and Helen was not unaware of this.
Now he smiled into Helen's eyes, and said: ‘Actually I did come to see Helen, Jennifer. I managed to get tickets for that Mahler concert you wanted to hear and I wondered if we could arrange something.'
Helen made an expressive gesture. ‘Oh! Oh, I see. I'm afraid I don't know, Keith. I mean—when we discussed the concert, Jake was still in the States. Now—well—he's home and it's rather awkward.'
Jennifer had listened to Helen's excuses impatiently, and now she exclaimed: ‘Heavens, Helen, do you think Jake would consider you if there was somewhere he wanted to go? For goodness’ sake, he's not your keeper. Make a stand! Be independent! Have your own friends. He has his!'
Helen pressed her lips together. She knew Jennifer was right again. Witness this evening, for example; she hadn't seen him since their arrival. It had been left to Giles to entertain her.
‘I don't know, Keith—’ she was beginning when she saw him stiffen sharply and glancing round she saw her husband approaching them with a purposeful stride. He had the satisfied expression of the cat who has just stolen the cream, but his eyes hardened as they alighted on Keith Mannering, and ironic speculation took the place of complacency.
‘Well, well,’ he remarked casually, as he joined them, sliding possessive fingers round the soft flesh of Helen's upper arm, which Helen immediately resented. ‘It's Mannering, isn't it? What's a clean-living young lawyer like you doing in a place like this?'
The insolence was evident in his tone even though what he said was not in itself insulting. But as Keith was not so tall as Jake or so broad, he was immediately at a disadvantage. However, Helen had to admire the way he straightened his shoulders and replied, quite calmly:
‘Actually, Howard, I'm here to see your wife. I've got tickets for a concert she particularly wanted to attend.'
Helen's eyes flashed from Keith's flushed young countenance to the cool, dark features of her husband. It was apparent from the cruel tightening of the hard fingers against her arm that Keith's instant explanation had surprised Jake, but he was never disconcerted for long.
‘I see,’ he said now, accepting a cigarette from Giles, who had obviously chosen this moment to offer it in an effort to avoid the possible confrontation that was to follow. ‘And why should you imagine I might not be taking my wife to this concert myself if she particularly wants to go?'
Keith hesitated. ‘I understand from Helen that classical music leaves you cold, Howard,’ he stated distinctly, causing Jennifer