He had also come to dislike her father, Lord Meldrew. He overindulged his only child, giving Clarissa anything her heart desired. That in itself had created a rift between them; he loathed spoiled women, and she was particularly greedy.
Miles had long accepted that he was saddled with a dud of a wife; and, worst of all, one who had been unable to conceive.
He was still without that much-longed-for heir. Not only had she proved to be barren but, much to his dismay, she had soon developed an aversion to Cavendon Hall, and would not come to Yorkshire.
‘Not a country girl at heart,’ she had informed him, fairly early on in their marriage. What marriage? he now wondered, and strode over to the window, gazing out across the terrace, looking towards the park.
A moment later he stiffened. Cecily was coming up the terrace steps and every thought in his head fled. He felt as if he had a tight band around his chest, and for a moment he could hardly breathe. Then he swallowed, took firm hold of his emotions, and went to open the terrace doors.
He was stunned by her loveliness as she came towards him: the richness of her luxuriant hair with its russet lights, her ivory skin, her smoky-grey lavender eyes, which told the world she was a Swann born and bred. They all had those eyes.
Cecily was wearing a white dress, trimmed and belted in navy blue, and yet it was loose, casual, the silk skirt floating around her long legs.
Finding his voice, he said, ‘Hello, Cecily.’ His heart was pounding in his chest and he was genuinely surprised that his voice wasn’t shaking. To his relief, he sounded quite normal. ‘Thank you for coming.’
She simply nodded, and took hold of his outstretched hand. Shaking it, she dropped it instantly, and stepped back. Giving him a cool glance, she murmured, ‘I hope this weather lasts for the next few days.’ Her voice was soft, calm.
‘Yes, so do I,’ he agreed, and was then unexpectedly tongue-tied. Putting one hand under her elbow, he ushered her across the terrace, into the library, and closed the door behind them.
Cecily immediately gravitated to the fireplace, as almost everyone usually did. This room was always cold, even in the summer months.
‘I want to apologize,’ Miles announced, as he quickly followed her across the room.
‘What for?’ she asked a little sharply.
‘Being remiss … never congratulating you over the last six years. For your fantastic success as a fashion designer, I mean. You’ve done so well, wonderfully well, and I want you to know how thrilled I am about that. And I’m very proud of you.’ Miles cleared his throat, added, ‘I did attempt to write to you, but every time I started a letter, I threw it away. I couldn’t quite get the words right. And, anyway, I thought a letter from me might annoy you.’
‘Yes, it might have done, under the circumstances.’
Cecily sat down in a chair near the fire. As she settled herself, straightening the skirt of her dress, she couldn’t help thinking that Miles didn’t look well. He had lost weight, and there was a curious gauntness about him, as well as an aura of sadness. This was particularly apparent in his blue eyes, and she felt for him, knew he’d had a hard time.
Following her lead, he went over to the sofa and seated himself opposite her. In a low voice, he said, ‘I have a list of things I’d like to go over with you, about Saturday and Sunday, but first I need to discuss something else.’
Cecily’s eyes were focused on him, and she nodded. ‘Please, tell me what’s on your mind.’
‘It’s about our attitude towards one another. We’ve been civil when we’ve run into each other over the years. But that’s all. And I do understand why. However, it’s going to be a bit awkward for the next few days, if we’re unfriendly, especially in front of the family. Don’t you agree?’
‘Yes. It’s occurred to me that my antagonism towards you could present a problem, and I suppose I must mend my ways.’
‘And so must I, Cecily.’ A faint smile flickered on his mouth, and he added, ‘It struck me yesterday that we might be able to slip back into the past; maybe we could behave like we did then. We had fun, we were happy.’
When she remained silent, he said, ‘Well, we did have fun, and we were happy.’
‘That’s true, but I hope you don’t think that I’m going to go up to the attics with you and revisit our “love nest”, as you used to call it.’
She had said this so solemnly, and her face was so serious, Miles burst out laughing, surprising himself; it was the first time he had laughed in months. ‘Of course not,’ he spluttered. After a moment, he contained his hilarity. ‘I’m speaking about our demeanour,’ he explained.
Cecily had managed to remain poker-faced, although there had been a moment when she had almost laughed with him. But she wasn’t going to give him an inch. Not ever.
Eventually, she answered, ‘I think if we try to erase the last few years, and remember our youthful friendship, it will work. I will try hard, because we must make this a perfect celebration for Lord Mowbray.’
‘Thank you, Ceci, I knew you’d see the sense of striking a bargain.’
‘More like a compromise, I think, Miles,’ she answered stiffly.
Ignoring her iciness, he shifted slightly on the sofa, and went on, ‘There is just one thing I want to explain, something you should know.’
His voice had changed, was now extremely serious, and she glanced at him swiftly. Knowing him as intimately as she did, she was positive he was about to say something of genuine importance.
‘Tell me then.’ Her gaze was level, steady, as she looked across at him.
‘I’m going to London next week. I haven’t been for ages, and I shall ask Clarissa for a divorce.’
Cecily had not anticipated anything like this, and she was shocked. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, ‘But what will the Earl say?’
‘Papa knows the marriage hasn’t worked. We are not compatible in any way. Clarissa hates the country; furthermore, she has never conceived. She hasn’t given me an heir, and this troubles my father as much as it has upset me. And it won’t happen now, because we have been separated for some time.’
When she made no response, he said, ‘But then you know that. Because you’re a Swann, and the Swanns know everything about the Inghams.’
‘Not always everything,’ she remarked. ‘But yes, it’s true, I did know that your marriage was not happy, Miles. Great-Aunt Charlotte told me. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’
‘So am I,’ he mumbled. ‘In view of the sacrifices I made.’
‘I know,’ was all she said, thinking about the sacrifices she had been forced to make as well. But this was best left unsaid.
Miles continued, ‘I shall make Clarissa a generous offer – alimony, the house in Kensington my father gave us for a wedding present. But I’m not at all sure she’ll agree to a divorce.’
A frown brought Cecily’s brows together, and she asked in a puzzled voice, ‘But why not? She’s young enough, and pretty; she could get married again. And consider what she would bring to a new marriage. Alimony, and a lovely house.’
‘The alimony would cease if she remarried, but she would keep the house. However there’s a problem, you see.’
‘What is it?’
‘She wants to have a title, to be a countess, and so she’ll try to cling on. When Papa had his heart attack last year, there were moments when I thought she was positively