'At this time of night? No, of course I'm all right. It was just a bit unnerving that's all. I'm fine. But I did phone Aunt Kate and I'm going over there for the day tomorrow, to help her pack for her holiday. And by the time I get back the number will be changed so everything will be OK, won't it?'
'I wish I was with you,' Seton said again.
'Well, so do I, but for a much better reason than that.' Lucie made her voice flirtatious, wanting to distract him. Seton laughed. 'Are you in bed?'
'Yes,' she lied.
'What are you wearing?'
'The cream silk nightdress you bought me for my birthday. You remember?'
'Very well.' He gave a deep sigh that was almost a groan. 'Lord, Lucie, you turn me on just thinking about you.'
'Good.' She kept her voice husky. 'In that case you'll be even more frustrated when you come home.'
They talked for another ten minutes, Lucie taking great comfort from just hearing his voice. Going upstairs, she looked hi on Sam, who had, as usual, kicked off his duvet. She covered him up again, careful not to wake him, but then couldn't resist reaching out to touch his hand.
Still asleep, he curled his hand round her finger and held it tightly. A great surge of love for him filled her heart—a love that was different from that she felt for Seton but equally strong. It was a fierce, protective love, this maternal instinct, and Lucie knew that she would do everything within her power not to let Sam be hurt. Or Seton, if it came to that. That was why she had never told him the truth, and now she must never let him know that she had once been branded a thief and put into prison.
Lucie sat by Sam's bed for a long time, just looking down at her child, but when she eventually went to bed she was too tormented to sleep. If only that photograph hadn't been printed in the paper, or Fiona hadn't given their names. But her friends had thought it harmless, had enjoyed their brief moment of fame, because their lives were all clear and open; no dark secrets hid in their pasts just waiting to emerge and ruin then: futures. Angrily Lucie sat up and turned on the light, furious with the fate that had dealt her such a blow. But surely Rick wouldn't be able to phone her again once her number had been changed? She tried hard to be optimistic, but Lucie was haunted by the thought of what might happen. He knew her married name and where she lived. Even if they moved away he would probably be able to find her, because if Seton got elected to parliament then he would be a public figure and easily traced.
Lucie was certain he would be elected; she had supreme faith and confidence in his abilities to do any job he chose, and she was sure that the electors would see the same qualities in him as she did. He would make a wonderful MP, and nothing must happen to spoil that, which meant, yet again, that her secret must never be told. Feeling far from optimistic, Lucie slept at last, and, the next day, drove up to the cottage in Derbyshire to which Aunt Kate had retired. It was a long journey but the sports car Seton had bought her, red and sleek and great fun, ate up the miles. She was glad, though, when she finally got there.
Waiting until Sam had run into the garden to look at the horses in a neighbouring field and was out of earshot, Lucie told her aunt of her fears, but Aunt Kate said, 'You know what I think is the best thing to do, don't you?'
'Yes,' Lucie agreed wearily. 'But I can't tell them.'
'Them?
Lucie turned to look fully at her, her eyes desolate. 'Seton—and Sam.'
'Sam?' Kate Brownlow frowned. 'But he's just a child! You needn't tell him.'
Patiently Lucie explained. 'If Seton knows the truth then he will feel honour bound to withdraw as a candidate. But his parents are so proud that he's been selected. They would be terribly upset, and would have to be told the reason why. They would try to understand but they would hate me for it; I just know they would. They're so ambitious for Seton. And one day they would tell Sam, because he would want to know why his father had given up a promising career in politics even before it really got started.'
'But surely...?' Kate paused, then gave a reluctant nod. 'I see what you mean; if you tell Seton then, one day, you would have to tell Sam too.'
'Yes.'
'It might still be better to tell Seton now, get it over with,' her aunt said with a contemplative look in her eyes.
Recognising it, Lucie said fiercely. 'No, never!' She raised determined eyes to this woman she had come to love.
'And if you go behind my back and tell him then—then I'll never speak to you again.'
Her aunt stared. 'Oh, Lucie!'
'I'm sorry, but you have to know how deeply I fed about this. I've never cared more about anything hi my life, and I'll do anything to prevent Seton from learning the truth.'
When she reached home that evening, Lucie was relieved to find that the phone company had kept their promise and the number had been changed. Inevitably it was. to cause some inconvenience and they were to receive a few irate letters from people who hadn't been able to reach them by phone. Seton, though, when he came home was very good about it, and still angry that she'd been upset. He arrived with a huge bouquet of flowers for her which he only just saved from being crushed as she rushed into his arms.
'Darling!' He dropped the flowers on a table and held her close. 'Why, you're trembling.'
'I'm so glad you're home. So glad.' Lucie clung to him tightly, taking comfort as she always did from his strength, his nearness.
After kissing her, Seton led her into the sitting-room and pulled her down beside him on the settee. His voice harsh with suppressed anger, he said, 'What did that pervert say to you?'
Lucie pushed her hair back with a nervous hand. 'He—he didn't say anything. I put the phone down.' She gave a shaky laugh. 'I'm sorry; you probably think I'm making a great fuss about nothing.'
'Of course not.' But, looking into her face and seeing the dark shadows round her eyes, he said, 'Although it's not like you to get so upset.'
Fear that he might start questioning gripped her, so Lucie managed to say flippantly, 'Must be my interesting condition.'
'Did you go to the doctor's to confirm it?'
'No. I went up to see Aunt Kate, remember?'
'Of course. But there can be no doubt?'
'No.' She smiled at him, but somehow the joy that the knowledge should have given her wasn't in her face. Seton frowned, unease in his eyes, and pulled her to him. 'It's understandable that you feel nervous here on your own. I'll try to go away as little as possible in the next few months.'
She sat up straight, tried to make her voice firm. 'No, you mustn't do that. I was just being silly, overreacting. Now the number's been changed I'll be fine. Really. And next week I'll go to see our doctor. Then, when we get the result, we'll tell your parents, shall we?'
That thought distracted him, as she'd hoped it would, and the weekend progressed with some kind of normality. They took Sam to a play-barn the following morning, drinking coffee with some other parents while he enjoyed himself. In the afternoon Seton went to cricket practice while Lucie took Sam to a friend's birthday party, held in the village hall, where the thirty or so children were able to run wild and where Lucie was kept busy helping the distracted mother of the birthday child and so, thankfully, had no time to think. That evening they went to dinner at the house of friends, on Sunday morning they worked in the garden, and in the afternoon took Sam to the local pool, which he loved. He could already swim well and Seton was teaching him the backstroke. So it wasn't until Sunday night that Lucie and Seton were really alone together. Lucie tried very hard to be bright and happy, and largely succeeded. When they were in bed she said, 'It's been a busy weekend.' He murmured an acknowledgment, and she added, 'Did you do it on purpose? To take my mind off that phone call?'
Seton chuckled. 'I'm that transparent, am I? But you're not so worried about it now, are you?'
'No.' Lucie tried to sound positive. 'No, of course not.'
'Good.' He kissed her back. 'You looked gorgeous in your swimsuit today.'
'I shall soon be fat.'
<
br /> Putting his hand on her stomach, Seton said, 'The baby has to grow. And you'll be radiant and lovely, as you were with Sam.' He stroked her gently. 'Do you think it will be a girl?'
'You can tell on the scan sometimes. Do you want me to try and find out?'
'No. Let's wait and then have a lovely surprise.'
'It might not be a girl,' she warned.
'Well, a boy would be absolutely marvellous too— and maybe the next time it will be a girl.'
'The next time!' Lucie exclaimed, and punched him on the shoulder. 'Just how many times are we going to try for this daughter?'
'As long as it takes, of course,' Seton said with a grin. 'And anyway I hike you pregnant; you look so beautiful and so happy, as if someone had lit a light inside you.'
She laughed. 'Well, I suppose you have, in a way.'
He went on stroking her gently. Lucie turned her head and kissed his throat, letting herself sink in the warm, masculine smell of him, in his closeness, hi the strength of his arms. Then she said, her voice muffled, 'Sometimes I miss you so much.'
Raising his hand, he turned her face towards him and stroked her hair, then bent to kiss her. 'Why, darling, you're crying.'
'No, not really. It was just—just love, that's all.'
Smiling tenderly, he kissed her eyes. 'My sweet girl.' Moving over her, he took her gently, moving slowly so that their pleasure was prolonged into a wonderful voyage of discovery, culminating in a golden burst of fulfilled delight that left Lucie physically exhausted. Still held in his arms, she fell immediately asleep. When Seton left to go away again on Monday Lucie was almost restored to happiness. And determined to stay that way. The incident was over; she could forget Rick and get back to living a normal life again. Her peace of mind lasted for just two more days. Coming home after taking Sam to his nursery class, she picked the post up from the mat and found a letter addressed to herself, the address handwritten. There were other letters so she got herself a coffee and went into the garden to read them hi the sun. The handwritten letter was quite short. It said:
Why bother to change your phone number, Lucie? You should know I'll always find you. Remember the last time we met? In court? I'll never forget it—and I'D make sure you don't either. She should have realised that he would find out her address. With trembling hands Lucie put the letter back into the envelope. The address was clearly and accurately written. He had found out the number of the house as well as the name of the street, and it had been posted two days ago.
Going inside, Lucie put the letter in the empty grate and burnt it, pushing the poker viciously into the embers. Now what was she going to do? But there was only one thing she could do, and that was ignore it. Sensibly, Lucie told herself that if Rick got no satisfaction from baiting her then he would eventually give up and leave her alone. She tried very hard to convince herself of that, but she began to dread picking up the post or answering the doorbell as she waited with inner terror for the next communication.
But for the next two days there was nothing. Everything was back to normal and Lucie began to feel a little more confident and to look forward to Seton's coming home for the weekend. She was giving a dinner party on Saturday night for some members of the local selection committee—a sort of thank-you for having chosen Seton—so on Friday she was busy shopping and preparing, as well as looking after Sam and sprucing up the house. The phone in Seton's study gave a couple of rings, then stopped, and she knew it was a fax coming through on its dedicated line. Lucie finished the pavlova she was making, pleased with the way it had turned out, popped it in the fridge, then washed her hands and went to look at what had come through. She tore the sheet off the fax machine, read it, and nearly died. 'Don't think you can escape me. I'll always be able to reach you. By the way, I like your car.'
When Seton came home hi the early evening Lucie tried to pretend that nothing had happened, that her nerves weren't shot to pieces, but she was unable to hide it completely, and after kissing her Seton looked at her hi concern.
'That wasn't much of a kiss! Is anything the matter?'
'It's been a hectic day, that's all, and I've got a bit of a headache. Do you think you could give Sam his bath while I get dinner?'
'Bath this brat?' Seton swung Sam under his arm, the boy giving a shriek of pleasure. 'I suppose I could manage that.'
He took him upstairs and by the time he came down an hour later, after putting Sam to bed, Lucie had dinner all ready. Usually this time was very precious, when they caught up on all the news while he'd been away, when they would talk and laugh across the table, pledging then-love for each other hi every glance, in every smile. But tonight, when they sat opposite each other, Lucie felt almost like a stranger. The terrible secret she was hiding somehow set her apart, and she found it difficult even to talk naturally. She managed to ask him how his week had gone, and Seton began to tell her about the hotel where he'd stayed with a couple of other barristers, two of whom Lucie knew. 'Peter Brent has invited us to join them for a weekend at then: cottage in Wales,' he told her. 'Evidently there's a lake nearby where they go sailing. It sounds fun. What do you think?'
But Lucie was gazing down at her plate, her fork poised over it, and her thoughts right here instead of in Wales.
'Lucie?' Seton leaned forward and touched her hand. 'Hey, come back to me.'
'What? Oh, sorry.' Lucie managed to laugh. 'I was miles away.'
'So I noticed. What were you thinking about?'
She hastily invented an excuse.
'The—er—the dinner party tomorrow night. I've never cooked for so many people before.'
'You're not nervous about it, are you?'
'A bit, yes.'
'Darling, you have no cause to be. You're a great cook.'
'Thanks, but I don't really know these people, and they're so important.'
'Nonsense. They're just medium fish in a small pond, that's all. Now, wait till I get elected and invite the Prime Minister to dinner,' he joked. 'Only then will you be entitled to feel nervous.'
Lucie gave him the smile he wanted. 'Do people ever really invite the Prime Minister to dinner?'
'I imagine so, but you needn't worry too much; it will probably be a very long time, if ever, before I get on those sorts of terms.'
'You'll be a minister in no time,' Lucie said loyally.
Seton grinned, picked up her hand and kissed it. 'Such optimism—when I haven't even been elected yet.'
'You will be.'
Lucie tried to be cheerful and attentive for the rest of the meal, but a couple of times found herself gazing into space again. She caught herself up guiltily and glanced at Seton. He'd noticed, of course, but didn't say anything until they'd finished the meal. 'Go and sit down and rest,' he suggested. I’ll clear away and get the coffee.'
'Oh, but you've been working all day and—'
'So have you. Just looking after Sam is a job and a half. Now, do as you're told or I'll put you across my knee.'
Lucie laughed, knowing it to be an empty threat. 'Mmm, I just love it when you get macho.' She hesitated, then said, 'Would you mind if I skipped coffee? I think I'd like to go and have a bath, relax.'
'Of course not. Is your head very bad?'
'It will go.'
'I hope so.' Putting his arms round her waist, Seton drew her to him. 'Because I have been away for a whole week.'
'Missing your oats, huh?'
'But definitely.' He lowered his hands to her hips and held her against his body, moving so that she felt his growing arousal. He had closed his eyes and now let out his breath in an open-mouthed sigh. 'You are the sexiest woman I have ever met.'
'Good.' But instead of kissing him Lucie leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes on the ground. Releasing her, Seton said, 'Go on; go and have your bath. I'll be up after I've had a coffee.'
She didn't know how long she had been in the bath, her thoughts full of despondency, but she was still there when Seton came up and had his shower. Afterwards h
e put on a robe and came over to kneel down beside the bath, where Lucie was staring up at the ceiling.
'Darling, this water is almost cold.'
'Is it? Yes, I suppose I'd better get out.'
She made a half-hearted attempt to rise, but Seton said, 'No, wait. Here.' He turned on the hot tap, then took up the soap and began to wash her. It was something he had done often before and they had both taken delight in it, especially as they knew that it always led to love. Tonight Lucie just lay back and let him do what he wanted, her eyes fixed on his face, trying to fight the misery inside herself.
He glanced at her from time to time and she managed to smile at him, but mostly he was intent on what he was doing, on running his soapy hand along her arms and legs, making patterns where his fingers had lingered. The bubbles gradually disappeared so that he could see her body more clearly. He soaped and caressed her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, and on down, delighting in the beauty of her slim figure, in every curve of her body, taking extreme pleasure in his task and knowing that she shared it. At length Seton helped her to stand so that he could dry her off. There were a few bubbles on his face where he had been unable to resist bending to kiss her. Lifting a hand to wipe away the bubbles gently, Lucie said in a voice husky with emotion, 'I love you. I love you so much.'
'Darling!' Wrapping a huge bath sheet round her, Seton scooped her up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom, laid her on the bed. Opening the towel, he began to dry her, but Lucie put her hands on his shoulders, her voice suddenly urgent. 'No. I want you to take me now. Now!' And she tore open the belt of his robe and pulled him on top of her.
Seton gave a gasp of surprise, and his gasps increased in amazement as Lucie almost forced him into her, taking control, taking his love with ferocious hunger, with an abandoned savagery that she had never shown before and which was completely selfish. That it excited Seton beyond control was by the way; Lucie needed him desperately, needed to be as much a part of him as she could possibly be, because only that way could she shut out the fears and the pictures in her mind.
The Guilty Wife Page 6