Her Hidden Husband

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 666, 18 May 1929, Page 22

Her Hidden Husband

Serial Story

By

Arthur Applin

Author of “The Dangerous Game “The Greater Claim,” "The Woman Who Doubted/' <£c <£-c.

Copyright

CHAPTER XV. She wasn’t an easy woman to handle, hut he believed he had found a lever which would move her in the direction he intended her to go. He listened to the clicking of the tape machines in the outer office; to the rattle of typewriters. A stranger coming in would have been impressed, for since the rubber boom business had been bad, Bosworth had had heavy liabilities to meet. For some time past the advent of each settling day had been a nightmare to him. That nightmare was now passed away and soon, he thought—and thinking smiled benevolently at the lady whose costume was a little pink tulle and a mop of yellow hair —he would be leading the life for which nature intended him —a rich man about town, envied, sought after; his photograph in all the weekly journals; Paris, New York, Cannes, Biarritz and Deauville would receive him with open arms. He was wondering whether his first car should be an Hispano Suiza or a Rolls- Royce when a clerk announced that Mrs. Markham had called to see him. He kissed her affectionately as soon as the door had closed behind the clerk, pulled forward a large leather-bound chair for her, admired her frock and noticed that she was wearing expensive silk stockings. He thought she would decorate the Hispano Suiza very nicely; he told her so, looking at her appreciatively yet, as he believed himself, with the eye of a connoisseur. She still possessed a fair amount of charm and some fascination—wonderful the difference clothes made to a woman. He glanced quickly at the sketch on the wall again—of course, there were a few women who could do without them, but they weren’t the type stockbrokers married.

Violet had never exhibited any extravagant tastes; she knew how to run a house, keep a good table, get the most out of her servants; he had heard her bully the trades-people too. would make an admirable wife—that was why before Markham’s providential death he had continually dangled the idea of divorce before her —so easy, since her husband hadn’t been near her for over ten years.

"Well, I’ve seen my solicitors again this morning,” Violet said. “Don’t you want to hear what they told me?” Bosworth lit a cigarette. “Of course, but I don’t trust lawyers, and I don’t suppose you will be foolish enough to be influenced by what they say; everyone will be ready with advice on how to spend your money.” “I’ve noticed that,” she said smiling at him through half-closed eyes. “Even you haven’t been able to resist the temptation.” He showed no offence. “My advice

has been to tie it up so that no matter how we are tempted we can’t touch the principal —or only a small portion of it.” "We!” she echoed, looking at her well-cut shoes —one of half a dozen pairs she had just purchased from Pinet the previous day. “You seem very sure of me, Tom.” “I should be a fool if I wasn’t. I’ve waited for a long time and now that you are free I don't intend to wait a day longer than is necessary, darling.” She looked at him again halfsurreptitiously, as if she were trying to read his thoughts! He read suspicion in her eyes, but he pretended to ignore it. “You haven’t seen my offices before, have you? What do you think of them?” The sudden change of conversation surprised her. “They’re very fine. Why haven’t you asked me up here before? I’d no idea you were such a —a big man, Tom. I suppose my having come into all this money can’t make much difference to your feelings.” He didn’t reply at once. He put down his cigarette and stared at her. He stared at iter as sometimes he stared at the revue girl with the mop of yellow hair; then he said in a low voice; “You know the only thing about you that has ever affected me—your beauty; and I have never seen you look more beautiful than you do this morning.” He got up and sat on the arm of her chair. “You’re a fascinating devil, Violet, and you know it.” “Don’t be a fool, Tom!”

He laid his hand on her knee, and bending down, kissed her mouth; he felt a little shiver run through her body. “You’re wonderful!” he whispered. “I don’t know why I didn’t run off with you long ago! I’ve met a good many charming girls in my time, too. When I financed that Ingenue musical show I -had the entre of the theatre while they were rehearsing, and 1 can tell you the girls there were the real goods and no mistake—could have got off with any one of them for the asking, but they just lacked something you’ve got—something I want, and which no other man is going to take from me.” Bosworth knew her weakness—a weakness he believed common to most women —she loved to be flattered; it was food and wine to her; moieover, under its influence she seemed to blossom out like a flower opens and gives its perfume when the sun shines. Markham, in 'their short married life, had never flattered her; he had been too honest and sincere., and not understanding women, let her have her own way. Violet had a vague idea that a man should be a man. The way to win her was to treat her rough; the way to keep her was to pet and spoil her.

“That’ll do!” she said, pushing him away, taking the mirror out from her vanity-bag and adjusting her hat at the exact angle the saleswoman in the shop had advised her it should be worn. “Now, I’ll tell you what the solicitors said, and perhaps you will be surprised. I shan’t have to wait so long for my money as I thought; anyway, I can draw on it to almost any extent at once. And you’ll be surprised to hear they thought it would be a very good thing if I did marry again. When I told them—l don’t know how I had the courage, I am sure —they advised a marriage settlement. They are going to draw up a draft. I thought you might like to have a talk with them, Tom—only I can’t see there is any need for hurry—it doesn’t seem quite decent.” Bosworth stretched himself and

looked at his gold watch. “It’s now or never,” he said boldly. “Your husband’s been dead to you for years. Y'ou’va never had any fun out of life —you want to enjoy it while you’re young, don’t you? By Jove! —I’ll show you the world, Violet. With my influence and your money we’ll set the -capitals of Europe humming. I’ll go into Parliament, if you like — get a title —there’s nothing I can’t do if I set my mind to it.” “I wonder! Anyway, you mustn’t hurry me. Do you know, I’m going to find it rather thrilling being a widow and independent —and, anyway, a few months, more or less, can’t make much difference.” Bosworth checked the reply which rose to his lips. He wasn’t a fool, and he knew a few months of independent widowhood might make all the difference. There were plenty of titled men with depleted banking accounts looking for just such a woman as Violet Markham. He fascinated her, he knew; but if the opportunity was offered her of becoming a duchess it might prove a greater fascination. "I’m expecting King here directly. Perhaps you would like to stop and see him?” He saw her start. "What’s he coming here for?” “Oh, for a friendly chat which may lead to business. Peculiar fellow, isn’t he? Do you think he’s quite—straight?” She shrugged her shoulders. "I really don’t know—or care. I think he’s very jealous of Alfred having made a fortune. I shouldn’t have much to do with him if I were you. and don’t tell him you are thinking of getting married.” Bosworth was waiting to open the door for her: “Why not?” “Oh, because I'd rather you didn’t; after all, he was Alfred’s best friend.” She put hdr fingers to her lips, then coyly transferred them to his mouth.

“Find hut if he’s in love with that girl, Pete Marchmont —if he’s going to marry her I suppose' I ought to give them a wedding present.” As soon as she had gone Bosworth opened the window—the atmosphere was heavy with the perfume of lloubigant’s Quelques Fleurs, it didn’t seem to amalgamate with gilt-edged securities or have any connection with Bears and Bulls. King was late for his appointment, and while Bosworth waited he referred again to the book by his side, which he had been studying, issued from Taunton Grammar School and giving a list of scholars who had studied there over a period of five years from 1904. When King arrived, however, be found Bosworth dictating a letter to one of his typists “So sorry,” Bosworth said, “but I’ve had a. terrific rush of business this morning. Shall we go straight out and have something to eat?” Ho sensed a change in King, he seemed more sure of himself, as if already he had found his feet in London. “I suppose you’ve been very busy settling down, renewing old acquaintances and all that sort of thing?” Jim said he had spent a few days down in Somerset looking at hus old home.

Bosworth was surprised. “Ot/, yes, naturally. Don’t suppose you found >many changes down there. By the way, I’ve discovered I wasn’t mistaken in recognising you, King. Perhaps you have remembered now where we met?”

Jim shook his head. “Can’t say X have.” “Did you visit the old school at Taunton?” Bosworth asked. Again Jim shook his head. “I came across an old school list the other day and there I found your name for 1905. We were only there three terms together, as I left the following year, but you were my fag during that time. You must remember that swine Tawdiff—an awful bully. I gave him a jolly good thrashing.” They had walked across to a restaurant not two hundred yards from Bosworth’s office. Jim swallowed a cocktail before replying: “Yes, of course," he said slowly, staring at Bosworth: “your fag! Though it was for such a short time I ought to have remembered, for you were a bit of a bully, too. weren’t you?” “Was I?” Bosworth laughed goodnaturedly. “All boys are beasts, unless they are prigs. Well it’s very interesting meeting again like this. I always say the friends one makes at school ” He stopped to consult the menu. After ordering an elaborate luncheon he suggested champagne. Jim said he would prefer beer. He was beginning to wonder what Bosworth 'really wanted to see him about. He had proved useful, for ?le had helped him to find another link with the past, but he didn’t trust him. He was hardly surprised when the conversation drifted to finance. “I’m investing Violet’s—Mrs. Markham’s—money for her. She felt sure you would be willing to tell me what you think about the rubber market. Now those estates in Borneo and the Malay Peninsula—practically all her money is tied up in them. . . . Don’t like keeping all the eggs in one basket do you?” Jim shrugged his shoulders; gradually he found himself beginning to talk shop—not. Bosworth’s shop, but the business in which he had been

interested; the development of un- I known countries, and the cultivation I of virgin soil timber, rubber plantations. Bosworth listened, now and then throwing a question at him which didn’t seem to have much bearing on the'subject. “With all your technical and practical knowledge, King, you ought to have been as rich a man as Markham. He knew how to’ look after himself.” He lowered his voice, glancing round the restaurant as if to make sure no one could overhear them, then said impressively: “Look here, I can give you a good tip, only you mustn’t whisper it to another soul. I won’t say you would make a fortune, but you can easily double or treble your capital ... a tin mine we’re floating in Nigeria. The syndicate has just been formed; you can come in on the ground floor.” Jim shook his head. “Thanks,” he said, dryly, “but I prefer to wait until the roof’s on, then the top floor is good enough for me; one can see what is going on from there.” And then he added, as if to close the conversation: “Subterranean methods don’t appeal to me.” Bosworth flushed, but outwardly he showed no resentment. A little later they strolled back to his office where Jim left, him, saying he had another appointment in the city at three o’clock. Bosworth tried to find out what it was but failed to satisfy his curiosity. He shook Jim’s hand warmly and thanked him for the information he had given him. “But I can’t agree with you that there is still money in rubber. Put your savings in tin, my boy. That’s what Mrs. Markham’s going to do.” (To be continued daily)