The Second Bride

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The Second Bride Page 14

by Catherine George


  'Go to bed,' he said harshly, and bent to pick up his glass. He toasted her mockingly. 'To married bliss, Jocasta.'

  'You're a barrister, Rufus. If you don't like our marriage you know exactly how to end it,' she flung at him, and marched from the room, back straight and head high.

  Next morning Jo took so long in the bathroom that Rufus was gone by the time she went downstairs, and this time there was no message on the kitchen table.

  Jo took refuge in work, submerging herself in the alterations which, in some cases, were so much harder to get on screen than the original story. And because there was no Dolly that day to provide lunch Jo didn't bother with any and surfaced a little after two to the sound of the doorbell. She went downstairs irritably, flipping her braid over her shoulder, then stared in astonishment at the sight of Linus Cole on her doorstep. Or, more to the point, Rufus' doorstep, she thought with misgiving.

  'I thought I'd surprise you. Had lunch on the train, of a sort, so I thought we could do some work together this afternoon.' Linus beamed at her, gave her a hug and a kiss, then held her away to look at her. 'You look about sixteen like that.'

  Since Jo was wearing jeans and an elderly navy sweater and hadn't bothered with make-up that day, she felt irritated by the remark rather than flattered. 'You should have phoned, Linus. And don't tell me there isn't a mobile phone in that briefcase.'

  'There is,' he admitted, 'but Ï fancied surprising you.' He looked around him in admiration as she led him through the house to the kitchen. 'I say, Jo, this is some abode. Your man loaded, is he?'

  'No idea,' she said curtly. 'Want some coffee?'

  'Please. Let's take it into your study, and drink while we work. Must catch the four-thirty train back.'

  Since Jo's bedroom was her study, she had no alternative but to take Linus there.

  'Fantastic bed,' he commented.

  'Right, then,' she said briskly, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the lack of male occupation in the room, 'let's get on with it, Linus. But next time, ring first.'

  When Rufus came home that night Jo, deliberately, was still in her jeans, face as nature made it and her hair straggling out in fronds from its braid. She'd been tempted to keep quiet about Linus Cole's unexpected visit, but in the end decided on her usual policy of honesty. But she wanted Rufus to see her as Linus had.

  'Had a hard day?' he said in surprise as he came into the kitchen.

  Normally Jo stopped work well in time to change and make herself as attractive as she possibly could, whether they were in a period of truce or not. Rufus looked effortlessly elegant whatever he wore, and Jo felt on her mettle at least to try to live up to him.

  Tonight Rufus' surprise at her dishevelment was justified.

  'I certainly have,' Jo said with feeling as she stirred the sauce she was making. 'I'm afraid the cuisine isn't very haute tonight. I got held up.' She turned to face him, a light of battle in her unembellished eyes. 'Linus Cole came here after lunch. Unexpectedly, before you jump to conclusions. He spent two hours here working on the book with me, then caught the train back to London.'

  Rufus put down his briefcase, his face no more readable than it ever was. 'And was it a fruitful session?'

  'I don't know,' she said frowning. 'He's got this different angle he thinks works better than mine.'

  'It's your book. If you don't agree don't do it,' he advised, and leaned over her shoulder. 'What are we having?'

  The subject of Linus, Jo realised with relief, was closed. Rufus said no more about him that evening, nor, indeed, about anything personal at all. And his goodnight kiss, thoughts of which had hung over her like the sword of Damocles all evening, was his usual salute on the cheek instead of the passionate, masterful embrace of the night before. Jo went disappointed to bed, but slept almost the moment her head touched the pillow, waking only when a knock on the door heralded Rufus' entry next morning to say goodbye.

  'I'll be late tonight,' he informed her. 'Don't cook for me. I'm dining with clients. But cook for yourself,' Rufus added sternly, and to Jo's surprise he bent to kiss her cheek, trailed a long finger across it and strolled from the room.

  Jo worked like a maniac, sometimes discarding the revisions she made, at other times pleased with her progress. Rufus was deeply disapproving when he discovered she intended to work right through the weekend.

  'You look shattered, Jo—take a break. The forecast's good. We could drive somewhere for lunch on Sunday.'

  Sorely tempted, Jo forced herself to turn the offer down. 'Just this one weekend. Then I can relax.'

  He shrugged indifferently. 'As you wish.'

  It wasn't at all what Jo wished, but now that the bit was between her teeth she was determined to finish the revisions by the following weekend as Miles Hay wanted. By Monday morning she felt she was winning. She was glued to her screen, concentrating fiercely, when the doorbell rang just after midday.

  Dolly knocked on her door and popped her head round. 'There's a gentleman by the name of Cole downstairs, dear.'

  Jo tore at her hair in despair. 'Oh, no, Dolly! Just as I was getting on so well.'

  'He said he was your editor so I put him in the sitting room,' said Dolly apologetically. 'I was just going to bring you some soup and a sandwich. Shall I do some for Mr Cole, too?'

  'Dolly, you're an angel!' Jo tidied her hair and slapped on some lipstick, then went down to greet Linus. 'You promised to ring first,' she said accusingly, and dodged the kiss he aimed at her mouth.

  'You'd have told me to get lost,' he said, unabashed, 'and I've thought of a brilliant new ending—'

  'Stop right there,' said Jo imperiously. 'I've gone with some of your suggestions because I can see how much they improve the story. But the ending is mine. I want it exactly the way it is. And if that means you don't want to publish it I'll take it somewhere else—'

  'Hey! Slow down.' Linus gave her a conciliating hug.

  'Cut it out, Linus,' she said irritably, and pushed him away. 'My wonderful Mrs Dalton has made us a snack lunch. We'll eat while we work.'

  Linus accepted with enthusiasm. She wrangled with him as she'd never have done with the unknown Miles Hay, but in the end, with input from each of them, Jo felt satisfied that the finished result was good, and exactly as she wanted it, with her own original ending that Linus had the grace to admit worked better than his own idea.

  'Right,' she said briskly. 'Give me a day or two to go through it all again to see the pieces fit, then I'll mail it to you.'

  Linus stood up, stretching. 'We're a good team, Jo. When do I get the next one?'

  Secretly delighted that Diadem wanted a follow-up, Jo shrugged nonchalantly. 'I've already started on it.'

  'Good girl.' Linus stood looking at her for a moment, an oddly avuncular expression on his face. 'Who'd have thought it! Little Jo.'

  Jo gave him a push. 'Don't get mushy, Linus. You'll miss your train.'

  'True. Thank your lady for the lunch.' He threw his arms round her and kissed her affectionately.

  'Am I interrupting?' enquired a cold, dispassionate voice, and Jo turned in dismay to see Rufus in the doorway.

  'Not at all,' she said calmly. 'Rufus, this is my old college friend, Linus Cole. Linus, my husband, Rufus Grierson.'

  The two men shook hands, Linus in no way put out at being interrupted mid-kiss with the wife of a man who was all too obviously enraged at the discovery. He congratulated Rufus on his clever wife, asked Jo to get the finished manuscript to him as soon as possible, then went downstairs with Rufus as a taxi arrived to take Linus to the station. Before the door had closed behind him Jo went into her room and shut the door, feeling sick with apprehension.

  Jo took the coward's way out, and postponed the hour of confrontation by taking a bath, and afterwards dressed in something rather more prepossessing than the jogging pants and fleece-lined sweatshirt worn during the session with Linus. She went down to the kitchen to start preparing dinner at last, her jagged nerves well hidden behind the wel
l- groomed mask she presented to her husband every night when he came home.

  She turned from the pan she was stirring as Rufus strolled into the kitchen a few minutes later. 'You were home early today,' she said, carrying the war into the enemy's camp.

  'Yes,' he said grimly. 'I apologise for my inopportune appearance.'

  'No need,' she returned. 'Linus was just going.'

  'Having received what he came for, no doubt! ' His eyes smouldered into hers in a way she'd never seen before.

  'Well, yes.' Jo swallowed. 'We more or less finished the revisions.'

  'When? Before he took you to bed or afterwards?'

  'What?' She stared at him, incensed. 'Are you mad?'

  'I must be.' Rufus glared back, his eyes murderous. 'For starters, I assumed you worked down here, not in your bedroom. It's hardly surprising I felt "mad" when I found another man in a place where I am never invited.' He seized her by the wrist. 'But let's stick to the facts, Jocasta; I'm neither mad nor blind. I saw the bed. You hadn't bothered to straighten it. But then, I'm not usually home so early, am I? You thought you had plenty of time to conceal the evidence.'

  Jo's eyes flashed. 'The bed was untidy,' she returned hotly, 'because we'd been sorting out pages of manuscript all over it. Linus and I are old friends, remember, so he kissed me goodbye as he was leaving. But we did not go to bed. Let me go,' she snapped. 'You're bruising my arm.'

  Rufus dropped her wrist as though it burnt him. 'Are you asking me to believe that Cole spent several hours with you in your bedroom and never tried to make love to you?'

  'Of course I am, because it's the truth. Why is it so hard to believe, Rufus?'

  'Because he's a man, you idiot girl, and he was once your lover!'

  They glared at each other, breathing hard, as though they were making love rather than war, then Jo's full mouth curved in a cold, mirthless little smile.

  'It's amazing that a man who's supposed to be such a brilliant lawyer can be so utterly mistaken. Believe me, Rufus, I have a very good reason for not letting Linus Cole make love to me. Come on, you're the legal man. You should be asking what it is.'

  'Is it another man?' he demanded, his eyes glittering darkly with a look that Jo had no idea how to interpret.

  But then, when had she ever known what Rufus thought, or felt, except when it came to Claire? 'No way,' she said scornfully.

  All the heat and anger drained from Rufus' face, leaving his eyes blank, as though a light had switched off behind them. 'No more guessing games, Jo. If you want to give your reasons, fine. If not, perhaps you'll excuse me. I'm going out.'

  'Where?' she said involuntarily.

  'I've no idea.' He gave her the smile she loathed. 'Does it matter?'

  Jo breathed in deeply, and laid down the wooden spoon to prevent herself from hitting him with it. 'Before you go do me the courtesy of listening while I explain why even if I wanted to, which I don't, I could never let Linus—or any other man—make love to me. It's all your fault,' she added, eyes kindling.

  Rufus eyed her narrowly. 'My fault?'

  'Oh, yes.' Jo folded her arms across her chest. 'I've never thought of myself as particularly vain, but I really don't fancy exposing myself to the kind of rejection you dished out at Christmas, Rufus Grierson. You made it clear you require your women flawless. For all I know the test of your sex feel the same way.'

  Dark colour surged in Rufus' face, then receded so suddenly that his eyes burned darkly against his pallor. 'Flawless,' he repeated harshly. 'Is that what you thought?' He moved towards her, and Jo retreated, suddenly breathless.

  'My scar,' she said unevenly. 'You were appalled by it.'

  'I don't deny it,' he retorted, moving so close that Jo was backed up against a cupboard with nowhere to go. 'It did appall me. I hadn't seen it before, remember. It horrified me. But not because it was a flaw, woman.' He seized her by the shoulders, his eyes boring down into hers. 'That night, as you well know, I was desperate to make love to you. Then I saw the scar and I couldn't.'

  'Because it revolted you,' Jo said dully.

  He shook her a little. 'No. Not that. Think, darling.'

  Darling? 'What must I think about?' she said wildly.

  Rufus pulled her into his arms and held her close against his chest, his heart thudding against hers. 'I made you pregnant the first time I made love to you. Then I made love to you a second time and you were rushed to hospital and almost died. I swore I'd never touch you again unless I made certain you wouldn't suffer for it. But at Christmas when I held you in my arms I forgot everything except how much I loved and wanted you—'

  'Loved?' said Jo, leaning back to look up at him.

  Rufus frowned. 'Surely you knew!'

  'How could I?' She glared at him. 'You forgot to mention it.'

  'I was waiting for the right time to present itself— but to hell with that. Life's too short.' Rufus bent his head and kissed her fiercely and Jo responded with such fervour that it was some time before he raised his head, breathing hard. 'The scar, far from disgusting me, brought me to my senses, warned me not to put you in any such danger again.'

  'Danger?' she said huskily, and wriggled closer.

  Rufus breathed in sharply, and crushed her close, his face a hair's breadth away from hers. 'In our particular circumstances it was unlikely you were doing anything about contraception, Jocasta Grierson.'

  Jo nodded. 'Very true.'

  'Unfortunately at that stage neither was I. And no way was I going to get you pregnant again,' he said against her mouth.

  'Oh.'

  'Yes. Oh.'

  They kissed each other with mounting passion, until something made Jo pull away a little to look up at him searchingly.

  'Do you really love me, Rufus?'

  To her dismay he drew away and thrust a hand through his crisp, silvered hair, eyeing her in a way which gave Jo deep misgivings. 'Look, I think it's time we brought everything out in the open, but let's do it in comfort, in front of the fire.'

  'What about dinner?' she asked half-heartedly.

  'Switch it off or throw it away,' he said sweepingly. 'I'll get something sent in later.'

  Jo smiled crookedly. 'I'd only got as far as making some hollandaise sauce. I hadn't even defrosted the salmon fillets.'

  'Ah. You intended softening me up by serving my favourite dinner! ' he accused, and took her hand. 'I'll tell you a secret, Jocasta Grierson. There's a far easier way to do it. Remind me to show you how—later.'

  Jo smiled radiantly, and let him take her hand to lead her into the sitting room, where the fire was now glowing in welcome.

  Rufus closed the curtains while Jo switched on lamps, then he drew her down beside him on the sofa. 'I know you think of the sofa as your private domain, but not tonight. I need to hold you while I confess.'

  Jo pushed her hair back behind her ears, and settled into the crook of his arm. 'Confess? What crime did you commit?'

  Rufus breathed in very deeply, and tightened his arm around her. 'I think it's time you knew I fell in love with you the day I married Claire.'

  Jo stiffened. 'What?' she demanded, twisting round to look up at him. 'Are you serious?'

  'Totally.' Rufus nodded gravely, smoothing a hand down her cheek. 'Fate played a hellish trick on me, didn't it? You know I met Claire at a hunt ball. She was beautiful and sweet, and we were soon seeing a lot of each other. But she wouldn't move in with me because her parents wouldn't have liked it. Nor, Ï suspect, would she. She was very conventional in some ways, and desperately keen to get married. I'd grown fond of her, and she made it plain she loved me. She wanted children and I found I liked the idea of a family a lot, so within months—the time it took for Gloria Beaumont to organise the wedding of the year—we were married. But up to that point, for one reason and another, I had never actually met her wonderful friend Jo.'

  'No,' said Jo, feeling as though her world had turned upside down. 'I heard you were gorgeous and successful and the most wonderful man in th
e universe, of course. But I was on holiday when the Beaumonts threw a party for your engagement, and you were working in London in those days. Claire went up there a lot to meet you, so somehow I never did. We almost met for lunch one day, when I went up to London with her for a fitting for my bridesmaid's dress.'

  'But I was held up and by the time I got to the restaurant you'd gone,' he said wryly. 'I began to wonder if you really existed.'

  'Unlike Claire I worked for a living. I had to catch a train to get back to the Gazette,' Jo looked down at the rings on her third finger. 'So we saw each other for the first time on the wedding day because I even missed the rehearsal. My boss sent me off to interview a local celebrity for the star feature spot.'

  'I didn't see you at first when you came down the aisle,' said Rufus very quietly. 'Claire looked even taller than usual in all her bridal glory. You were hidden behind her.'

  'I saw you,' whispered Jo.

  'We came face to face for the first time in the vestry, during all the kissing.'

  'You didn't kiss me.'

  'Too damn right I didn't. I was afraid to touch you! ' said Rufus with sudden violence. 'I couldn't believe it. Minutes before I'd made promises to Claire I could never break. Then I saw this little dark thing with flowers in her hair and fell head over heels in love for the first time in my life. But it was too late. I could hardly tell Claire I'd changed my mind.' He sighed heavily. 'Then or any time.'

  'No,' agreed Jo sadly.

  'Of course you made it easy for me, because you avoided me like the plague.' Rufus put a hand under her chin and raised her face to his. 'Why, darling? I assumed you took an instant dislike to me—so did Claire, because she stopped trying to bring us together after a while.'

  Jo gave him a crooked little smile. 'Your wedding day was one of the worst of my entire life up to that point. Claire and I used to laugh over the book her mother bought on wedding etiquette. But it lacked a chapter on what the chief bridesmaid should do if she fell hopelessly in love with the bridegroom. Which I did. And to cover it I pretended to dislike him.' Her smile wavered. 'I thought that if I pretended hard enough it might become reality. But it didn't. I tried so hard, I even got engaged to someone else.'

 

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