Lucy Gordon - The Stand-In Bride

‘As soon as we get back to the hotel you’ll see a doctor,’ he said.

‘I’m all right. Just a few bruises.’

‘You’re going to see a doctor,’ he said with exasperated patience. ‘Since you’ve marked me down as a domineering bully, I may as well act the part.’

She didn’t answer. She was trying to hoist her skis over her shoulder, but she was all aches. Silently Sebastian took them from her, and they returned the short distance to the hotel. She found the walk harder than she would have admitted to. The mountains seemed to be still spinning around her and she was looking forward to a long sleep.

They had booked into the most luxurious room of the Hotel Frontera. It had two double beds, both big enough to take three, and a huge fireplace with logs. The actual heating was done by radiators, but the fireplace created the right rustic atmosphere, and the hotel maintained it diligently.

Maggie began to remove her outer clothing, moving slowly, and wincing a good deal. But she couldn’t reach her boots.

‘Let me,’ Sebastian said quietly, and knelt down to work on the straps. Maggie took a long breath as he slipped them off.

‘I’m sorry. Did that hurt?’

‘No more than I deserve, I dare say,’ she replied with a gruff laugh.

‘For the sake of domestic harmony, I won’t answer that.’

There was a knock on the door. Sebastian answered it and returned with two glasses of brandy, one of which he gave her. ‘It will make you feel better.’

It was a very fine brandy and it did make her feel better. He watched her drink it, then offered her the remaining half of his. She accepted it.

The doctor arrived, a pleasant middle-aged man, who looked her over efficiently and announced that she had no bones broken, or even cracked.

‘Lots of bruises, but nothing worse,’ he announced. ‘Don’t try that run again until you are well. I’ve seen people break their necks on it.’

When they were alone Sebastian asked gravely, ‘Will you tell me the truth? Was that what you were trying to do?’

‘Break my neck? No, of course not. But-I don’t know how to put it-it sometimes feels good to take risks and leave it in the hands of fate. When you don’t know what the answer is-just to shrug and say, what will be, will be. It can be the most exciting feeling in the world.’

‘I know it can. I’ve done it myself. Nobody would ever ski a black run if they didn’t have a touch of the fatalist about them.’

‘When I’m better, I’m going back,’ she said firmly.

‘Very well, we’ll go together. But this time, side by side. No races. Whatever you may think, seeing you get killed would not solve my problem. I don’t know what the answer is-perhaps there isn’t one. But it’s not that. Of course,’ he added ironically, ‘the broken neck might be mine, and then your problem would be solved.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Roderigo died, but it didn’t make me free of him. He just became more and more destructive. I thought I’d escaped from his shadow, but now it looms larger than ever.’

‘Because of me?’ Sebastian asked tensely.

‘In some ways you’re just like him.’

His head went up. ‘ I am like that shiftless criminal?’

‘He did what suited him and told me about it afterwards, just like you with our wedding.’

He frowned. ‘I did what I thought was right, but maybe-maybe I was wrong.’

‘What about what I thought was right? It didn’t count, did it? Never mind. It’s done now. I’m going to bed.’

She got carefully into her bed and curled up at the edge. Sebastian stayed up, drinking brandy until, about one in the morning, he got into the other bed.

Next day she rested, while Sebastian went out onto the slopes. He took the Wall of Death twice in the morning and twice in the afternoon, wondering what he was trying to prove to himself, and not caring to search too far for the answer. He had lunch out, rather than return to the hotel where he knew he wasn’t welcome.

In the evening he found Maggie up and dressed, looking better, although she still moved stiffly. She asked politely after his day, and said she thought she might venture out tomorrow, not to ski, but to wander around the town. This kind of small talk carried them through a full half hour.

‘You must be hungry,’ he said at last. ‘Shall I call Room Service?’

‘No need. I’m well enough to come downstairs.’

Of course, he thought. The restaurant, where there were other guests and waiters to be spoken to, and the silence wouldn’t yawn so terribly between them.

The carefully polite meal that followed was more dreadful than the most bitter quarrel. When it was over she said she would have an early night, but why didn’t he spend half an hour in the bar, if he wished? He agreed, and when he returned upstairs found the light out and Maggie apparently asleep.

He was awoken by the sound of water running. Through the crack in the bathroom door he could see a light, and her shadow as she stepped into the tub. After a while he heard what sounded like a gasp of pain, followed by a muttered, ‘Damn!’ He got up, slipped on a silk robe and went to the door.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she said after a moment.

‘May I come in?’

‘Yes.’ She was sitting in the bath, clasping the sides, a look of frustration on her face.

‘I thought a hot soak would help,’ she said. ‘But now I can’t pull myself up. It hurts when I try.’

He leaned down. ‘Put your arms about my neck.’

She did so and he straightened up slowly, taking her whole weight. As her naked body came into view he gave a sharp exclamation. The bruises had come right out now and she seemed to be black and blue all over.

‘There’s a towelling robe on the door,’ she said.

He draped it carefully around her and helped her out. Then he picked her up gently and carried her over to the fireplace, setting her down on the sofa. Then, to her surprise, he fetched a towel from the bathroom and sat down beside her, taking hold of one of her feet and beginning to dry it gently.

‘I can do that,’ she protested.

‘You can’t. See what happens if you try to reach this far.’ She tried, and gave up, wincing. ‘You shouldn’t have to go into that bath alone. Why a bath, and not a shower?’

‘I wanted a hot soak. I though it would make me feel better.’

‘And if I hadn’t woken up?’

‘I’d have sat there until morning, I suppose. Anyway, thank you.’

‘I think we should go home tomorrow.’

‘No way. I’ve had a day’s rest and a bath, and I’m feeling better. I’ll be out tomorrow.’

‘No more Wall of Death,’ Sebastian said at once.

‘No. I’ve done that.’

‘Did it work?’ he asked shrewdly.

‘Up to a point.’ She fell silent.

‘Tell me about him,’ Sebastian said at last. He saw her eyebrows rise faintly and said, ‘Yes, I should have asked before. But I should like to know what a woman like you saw in such a man.’

‘I wasn’t a “woman like me”, in those days. I was a girl of Catalina’s age, and just as ignorant and naive as she is. Now, I’m the woman Roderigo made me: not a very nice one, I often think. I don’t really trust anyone-not really, deep down trust with my whole heart-because I trusted him so much.’

She was silent for a long time, before Sebastian said, ‘Tell me, please.’

‘My parents had died, and I was on my own. I thought Roderigo was wonderful, so handsome and charming. He told me he was on a business trip, buying and selling things.’

‘He never made an honest penny in his life,’ Sebastian couldn’t resist interrupting.

‘That’s not true,’ she said quickly, impelled to defend Roderigo by an impulse that she didn’t understand. Or perhaps it wasn’t him she was defending but the eighteen-year-old Maggie and everything she had believed in. ‘The business was real enough. It just didn’t do very well. At the start, he really was trying, I know he was. And sometimes he pulled off very successful deals. But then he got carried away and spent the profits before he had them.’