‘That surprises me.’
‘Why should it surprise you?’
His green eyes holding no warmth, his voice brittle as ice, Jonathan observed, ‘Well, he doesn’t show much interest in the one he’s got.’
‘What?’ she asked blankly.
Jonathan repeated his observation.
‘I don’t know what you mean. He and his first wife didn’t have any children.’
‘He and his wife might not have had any, but his ex-fiancée certainly does—’
Her jaw dropped. ‘His ex-fiancée?’
‘The one you supplanted.’
With certainty, she said, ‘I didn’t supplant anyone. The whole idea’s ridiculous! Mark had no ties when I met him.’
‘How do you know?’
‘He said so.’
‘And you believed him?’
‘Why shouldn’t I have believed him? He had nothing to hide. He told me about his divorce—’
‘That was common knowledge, so he was forced to. But did he tell you why his wife divorced him?’
‘They were incompatible. They found it impossible to live together.’
‘I understood that the thing she found impossible to live with was his penchant for other women.’
‘I’m quite aware that Mark likes women, but that’s so with a lot of men, and it doesn’t mean he’ll do anything about it when we’re married. I’m also aware that women find him attractive.’
‘And you’re prepared to live with that?’
Challenged, she said, ‘Maybe I wouldn’t want a man that no other women would bother to look twice at.’
‘I gather his first wife didn’t feel that way. Fortunately, or unfortunately, however you care to look at it, and possibly because she was his wife, she was by no means as reconciled to his numerous affairs as the woman who came after her.’
‘I don’t believe he had “numerous affairs” while he was married, and he told me he hadn’t had a relationship until he met me since he and his wife separated.’
‘How long did you say you’d been engaged?’ Jonathan asked abruptly. ‘Three months, was it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then while he was putting a ring on your finger, your predecessor—whom he’d earlier promised to marry—was in a private nursing home awaiting the birth of their baby.’
Aghast, Loris whispered. ‘No, you must be mistaken! When we’ve talked about children Mark’s never breathed a word about having any. And there hasn’t been so much as a whisper…’
‘He’s managed to keep it very quiet. In fact I doubt if anyone, including your father, has the faintest inkling.’
Loris lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. ‘You’ve only been over from the States a few weeks, so how did you get to know all this?’
‘For reasons which I’d prefer not to go into I don’t want to disclose my source. However, I can assure you that it’s absolutely true.’
Flatly she said, ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t believe a word of it. Mark has his faults—he’s arrogant, quick-tempered, and he can be insensitive at times—but he isn’t the kind to behave as callously as you’re trying to make out.’
‘I’m not “trying to make out” anything. I’m simply giving you the facts as I know them.’
‘Well, I’m sure you’ve been misinformed. And as you don’t want to tell me where you got hold of these facts, I’ll continue to regard the whole thing as a complete fabrication.’
‘Use your common sense, Loris. Why should anyone make up a story like that?’
‘I can’t imagine,’ she said shortly. ‘Unless it’s someone with a grudge against Mark, someone who’s just out to stir up trouble.’
Recalling how much animosity there was between the two men, and wondering how pure Jonathan’s own motives were, she asked, ‘Why did you make it your business to tell me?’
‘I thought you should know about this other woman. She knows about you… Oh, no, Longton didn’t tell her. She read about your engagement in the papers. I must say I’m rather surprised he agreed to have it put in.’
‘Well, he did. Anyway, if this “other woman” knows about me, why hasn’t she kicked up a fuss?’
‘I understand that he supports her quite generously, but on the understanding that she keeps her mouth shut and stays in the background. For the sake of their child, and because, in spite of everything, she still loves him and lives in hopes of getting him back on a permanent basis, she’s prepared to put up with it.’
‘Are you saying he still sees her?’
‘Oh, yes, he visits her a couple of times a week.’
‘I don’t believe it. Why should any woman allow herself to be treated so shabbily?’
‘Because, though he had other women while they were together, he swore they meant nothing to him, that it was her he loved, and she’s fool enough to believe him…’
Disconcerted, Loris wondered. Suppose the story was true? But if it was, and he’d had any feelings for the woman who was the mother of his child, surely he would have married her rather than propose to someone else?
Slowly, she said, ‘Just for the sake of argument, if he had a cosy little set-up, where this woman was willing to ignore his affairs, why should he have asked me to marry him?’
‘My guess—and this is just a guess—is that he saw you, wanted you, and, because of who you are, and because you weren’t easy like the rest, he decided he’d have to marry you to get what he wanted. Also, being married to Sir Peter Bergman’s daughter will give him a certain standing, an added prestige, as well as keeping the business in the family.’
Jonathan’s reasoning was plausible and, shaken despite herself, Loris avoided those clear green eyes that saw too much.
Looking at her downbent face, he asked gently, ‘You honestly believe he loves you?’
‘He said he did.’
‘I’d be surprised if he can even spell the word,’ Jonathan said caustically. He added, ‘His mistress may try to delude herself that he still loves her—though I don’t know how she can after the way he’s treated her—but that kind of man is incapable of loving anyone but himself.’
He sounded so bitter, so concerned, that Loris found herself wondering whether this woman might possibly be the one Jonathan wanted to marry. Though if it was true that she’d been having a long-term affair with Mark, it did seem unlikely.
Taking a deep breath, she asked, ‘What about the child? You say Mark has a child?’
‘Yes, he has a baby daughter. A daughter that he almost totally ignores.’
Loris was shocked. Even if he had no feelings for the mother, how could any man ignore his own child?
As though reading her thoughts, Jonathan advised quietly, ‘Before you decide to go ahead with the wedding, it might be as well to ask yourself what kind of husband and father a man like him is going to make… Unless you’re afraid of the answer?’
His question had the smooth abrasiveness of pumice-stone, and suddenly she knew without a shadow of doubt that, for whatever reason, he didn’t want her to marry Mark.
Her earlier suspicion that he was simply out to make trouble returned in a rush. She took a deep breath. ‘You said you’d decided to lunch here in the hope of seeing me…’
His eyes on her face, he waited silently.
‘Why? Was it just so you could tell me this story about Mark having a mistress and a child?’
‘You sound accusing. Would you rather have gone ahead with the wedding without knowing?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I suppose not.’
If it was the truth she did want to know… Though she was sure it wasn’t, she reminded herself hastily.
But, whether it was true or not, she guessed that he’d told her purposely, in order to blacken Mark’s character and throw a spanner in the works.
She was oddly disappointed. Somehow it seemed unworthy of him.
Hoping he would refute the suggestion, she asked, ‘I take it this is your way of trying to ge
t back at Mark?’
‘You could say that,’ Jonathan admitted. ‘Though probably not for the reason you imagine.’
Angry and disillusioned now—she hadn’t put him down as petty or vindictive—she gave him a look of cold hostility. ‘For whatever reason, I think it’s despicable to try to poison my mind against him.’
Pushing back her chair, she jumped to her feet and made for the door. Grabbing her mac en route, she struggled into it and, fumbling with her umbrella, almost ran up the basement steps.
Rain was still pouring from a sky nearly as dark as night. The pavement shone wet and gleaming in the lights; the gutters ran with water.
She had gone only a short distance when it occurred to her that she had rushed off without paying the bill. Her steps faltered and she half turned.
Then, changing her mind, unwilling to face Jonathan again, she hurried on. Let him pay. He’d had his money’s worth—discrediting Mark, upsetting her, and in the process destroying what had been her growing respect for him.
Strangely enough, the latter mattered most of all.
CHAPTER SIX
LORIS had reached the far end of Shear Lane and was waiting to cross the road when Jonathan suddenly appeared by her side. He was bare-headed, the collar of his stone-coloured mac turned up against the rain.
The lights changed. Calmly taking charge of her umbrella, his other hand beneath her elbow, he crossed with her.
Picking up the conversation as though there had been no interruption, he said, ‘I wasn’t trying to poison your mind, merely open your eyes. As I told you the night we met, Longton isn’t a very nice character.’
‘And as I told you, that’s a matter of opinion. At least he doesn’t go sneaking behind people’s backs…and he’s honest enough to admit when he’s in the wrong.’
‘Would you call hiding the fact that he has a mistress and a child honest?’
Jerking her elbow free, she retorted curtly, ‘As it happens, I don’t believe a word of it.’
‘Then when you see him tonight try asking him.’
But when his afternoon meeting ended Mark was flying to the Continent on business. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. Suddenly she knew that was much too long to wait.
Impatient to get at the truth, to hear Mark refute the allegation once and for all, she said, ‘We’re quite close to the offices, and he should be back from lunch any time, so why not ask him now?’
‘Why not, indeed? And don’t forget to watch his face while you’re asking him.’
But, already starting to anticipate one difficulty, she pointed out, ‘The problem is, he’s bound to want to know where I heard such a story.’
‘Feel free to tell him.’
Although she was upset and angry with Jonathan, she couldn’t do that. It would be as good as signing his death warrant.
‘No, I…I don’t want to tell him. It would only cause a great deal of trouble.’
‘You mean he’d find some way to dismiss me? Don’t worry about that.’
‘I don’t want you to lose your job through me.’
‘That’s heartening,’ he said ironically. ‘Judging by the inimical look you gave me earlier, anyone would have thought a firing squad was too good for me.’
‘Well, what else can you expect? You slander the man I…’ about to say love she changed it to, ‘I’m going to marry—’
Stopping in his tracks, Jonathan turned towards her. Still holding the orange umbrella sprinkled with white daisies over her head, he took her chin between the finger and thumb of his free hand and made her look at him.
His hair dark and dripping, rain running down his face, he said quietly, ‘You’re wrong on at least one of those counts, and I hope on both. Slander is a false statement, and everything I told you was true. Though I dislike and disapprove of men like Longton, it gave me no pleasure to have to do what I just did. But it was necessary to put you in the picture before it was too late.’
More shaken than she cared to admit, she jeered, ‘So you regard it as your mission in life to stop me marrying Mark? Well, if I need a knight in shining armour, I’ll let you know.’
Jerking free, she carried on walking. ‘Otherwise I’d like it if you’d mind your own business and stay out of my life.’
Keeping pace with her, he said solemnly, ‘I’m not sure I can do that.’
With an odd kind of flutter, she demanded, ‘Why not?’
He sighed. ‘Well, it would be such a waste.’
She glanced sideways at him. ‘You mean if I marry Mark?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Then what do you mean?’
‘Well, apart from the fact that you owe me a lunch, I’ve just bought a new tin of metal polish.’
It was indicative of her state of mind that it took her a second or two to catch on. He meant he was already her knight in shining armour!
Gritting her teeth and staring straight ahead, she walked even faster.
In less than a minute they had reached the elegant old building that housed the BLC offices, and were mounting the steps with a straggle of staff just returning from lunch.
Though most people were stopping just clear of the doors to wipe their feet, the marble floor of the large lobby was wet from dripping macs and umbrellas. Jonathan shook and furled Loris’s umbrella, and presented it to her gravely.
Dropping it into one of the troughs provided for visitors, she thanked him, her voice cold.
Mark’s suite of offices was on the top floor, next door to her father’s, and she was halfway to the lifts when, a hand on her arm, Jonathan stopped her. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’
‘Of course,’ she said acidly, ‘I’m so sorry.’ She fumbled in her shoulder-bag for her purse. ‘I still owe you for lunch.’
He stopped her. ‘That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.’ Green eyes looked steadily into amber. ‘A civil goodbye would have been nice…’ Glancing across the lobby, he added, ‘But now circumstances favour something a little more demonstrative.’
Before she could begin to guess his intention he cupped both her elbows and, drawing her towards him, covered her mouth with his.
Taken by surprise, she made no attempt to struggle, merely stood there, acquiescent, while he kissed her lightly but proprietorially, making her heart start to race and the world tilt on its axis.
As he released her and stepped back, leaving her face wet from the contact with his, she looked up dazedly to see Mark standing stock-still just inside the entrance, glaring in their direction.
His expression made it plain that he’d seen the little incident, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d been meant to.
Before she could begin to regain her equilibrium, a man she recognised as William Grant, one of Cosby’s top executives, walked past.
Noticing Jonathan, he paused. ‘If you could spare a moment, Mr Drummond? There’s something I need to ask you about before the afternoon meeting.’
‘Of course. Would you like to come up to my office?’ Smiling at Loris, Jonathan added pleasantly, ‘Au revoir, Miss Bergman.’
Still feeling stunned, knocked off balance, she watched the two men carry on towards the lifts.
A moment later, his face black as a thundercloud, Mark was looming over her. Seizing hold of her wrist, he demanded in a furious undertone, ‘Damn it, Loris, are you trying to provoke me?’
‘Of course not. I—’
‘You promised you wouldn’t see Drummond again. Next thing I know you’re kissing him, not only in public, but right under my very nose. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’
‘Mark, let go of my wrist!’
His grip tightened even more. ‘Well, answer my question.’
‘Let her go.’ Jonathan’s voice, though quiet, cracked like a whip.
Startled, Mark exclaimed, ‘Why, you—!’
‘Do as I say, unless you want to end up flat on your back with everyone looking on.’
Le
tting go of Loris’s wrist, Mark turned on his adversary, his big hands clenched into fists of rage. ‘Don’t be a fool, man,’ Jonathan said in the same quiet, even tone. ‘There’s no point in making a scene.’
‘What’s the matter? Scared?’ Mark taunted.
‘Not at all.’ His voice matter-of-fact, Jonathan added, ‘But I don’t want to be involved in a fracas unless I’m forced. I’ve never cared for violence. However, if you lay another finger on Loris I’ll be tempted to forget my scruples and break your neck. Is that clear? Oh, and in answer to your question, she wasn’t “playing at” anything. Loris didn’t kiss me. I kissed her. She had no choice in the matter, and is totally blameless. So if you want to take it out on anyone, it will have to be me.’
That wasn’t strictly true, Loris was forced to admit. She could have pulled away, she could have smacked his face, but she’d done neither. Like someone under a spell, she had just stood there and let him kiss her. Enjoyed it even. She hastily snapped off the disloyal thought.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ Jonathan went on, ‘William Grant is waiting for me.’ Over his shoulder he added, ‘But don’t forget what I said.’
His lips drawn back over strong white teeth, Mark snarled, ‘Of all the arrogant, overweening young upstarts—’
‘Please, Mark,’ Loris interrupted with a touch of desperation, ‘let’s go up to your office. We can’t talk standing here in the lobby.’
Without a word, but obviously still seething, he turned and headed across to the lifts.
Thankful they were leaving, Loris followed him.
She breathed a sigh of relief to find that there was no sign of Jonathan and William Grant amongst the little knot of people waiting. The last thing she wanted was for them all to be forced to ride up together.
When she and Mark got out of the lift on the top floor, they walked a yard or two along a wide corridor before turning the corner to his suite of offices.
As he led the way through the outer office, Mark gave his grey-haired secretary curt instructions that they weren’t to be disturbed.
Obviously well used to him, she enquired calmly, ‘You haven’t forgotten you have a meeting in your office at two-thirty?’
Marriage on the Agenda Page 9