The English Aristocrat's Bride

by Sandra Field

  “Then I’ll cook supper for you,” he drawled; because her head was bent, she didn’t notice how sharply he was watching her. He reached over to the bedside table, where there was a tray of exquisitely prepared fruit, and passed her a sliver of mango. “It’ll be a comedown from the meals here, I warn you.”

  The mango was ripe and slippery. Licking her fingers, Karyn said, “I’m not sure I like this conversation. All good things have to come to an end.”

  “Do they, Karyn?”

  “Yes, they do,” she announced. Suddenly exhausted, she kissed him in the vicinity of the chin and closed her eyes. While it might be perfectly clear to her that she didn’t want Rafe coming to Heddingley, it was, after all, his personal jetplane; she could hardly kick him off it. Not when he’d been so overwhelmingly generous to her, and she owed him so much.

  Once they got back to Heddingley, she’d insist that he leave right away, so that her life could settle back to normal. By no stretch of the imagination could normal include Rafe Holden.

  He’d understand her point of view.

  It was in London, as they waited for the jet to be refueled, that Karyn discovered Rafe wasn’t interested in understanding her point of view. In fact, he didn’t see eye to eye with her at all. He was sitting in the private lounge reading a Greek newspaper, its script incomprehensible to her. He was frowning. She said lightly, “Is the news that bad?”

  He scarcely heard her. The headlines on the second page concerned an Italian businessman who had traveled to Athens and murdered his estranged wife there. The story sickened him; it could so easily have been Karyn.

  She said patiently, “Rafe? Hello? Is anybody home?”

  His lashes flickered. “Sorry. We won’t be much longer. You can sleep all the way home if you want to.”

  Filled with confusion, she burst out, “I still don’t understand why you’re coming with me!”

  “What did you expect me to do? Dump you at my earliest convenience?”

  “Of course not,” she said shortly. “But there’s no point in you crossing the Atlantic when I have to go right back to work. This has been absolutely wonderful, and I can’t thank you enough. But it’s over now. There’s no point in dragging it out.”

  “Is that how you see spending more time with me?” he said with menacing softness.

  She bit her lip. “I have to pick up my normal life. I have a job, a house, friends and responsibilities—and so do you.” Attempting to lighten the atmosphere, she added, “Several houses, in your case, and megaresponsibilities.”

  “And when—in this busy life of yours—will you find time to see me again?”

  Her temper flared, driven more by nerves than actual anger. “Cut the sarcasm. I’ll be in England for Fiona’s wedding, I’ll see you then.”

  “What if I want more than that?”

  “You don’t. So why are we fighting like this? The last thing I want to do is ruin a perfectly marvelous four days.”

  “How, all of a sudden, do you know what I want?”

  His voice was tight with controlled anger. In an ugly uprush of emotion, all Karyn’s old fears resurfaced. Steve had never been ready to let go of her: the more she’d given him, the more he’d demanded. Was Rafe the same?

  Surely not. Not Rafe.

  But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t force her anxiety back where it belonged. Her own anger flared to match his. “Okay, so I don’t know what you want. How about enlightening me?”

  Rafe tossed the newspaper on the marble table and said in exasperation, “This is all wrong, Karyn. Trading cheap shots with each other like this.”

  She said flatly, “Tell me what you want. We’ll go from there.”

  He gazed at her in silence. She was wearing simply cut linen pants and an embroidered vest she’d bought at the Athens airport. She didn’t look conciliatory. Neither did she look at all like a woman in love. For a moment fear ripped through him, as imperative in its own way as desire. Thrusting it down, he said, “I want to keep on seeing you.”

  “Why?”

  “We fit together. And I don’t just mean sexually.”

  “We’re great in bed. But other than that, we couldn’t be more different. Look where we just stayed, Rafe! On my own, I couldn’t afford that suite for four minutes, let alone four days.”

  “There’s a lot more to me than my money.”

  “You’re enormously rich. I’m a country vet. You travel the world while I drive from the pigsty at LeBlanc’s Farm to the local stables. You’re cultured and sophisticated. I’ve barely been off Prince Edward Island and half the time I’m covered in mud. Your lifestyle and mine, they’re as different as—”

  As she fumbled for an analogy, Rafe rapped, “As I am from Steve. Because that’s what this is really about, isn’t it? It’s not about money, it’s about Steve.”

  She stood up, jamming her hands in her pockets, determined not to cry. “Of course it’s about Steve. You’re the only person in the world who knows what he did to me. How he changed me. And yet you expect me to keep on seeing you? To start some kind of relationship with you? You, of all people, should understand why I can’t do that.”

  She now sounded despairing rather than angry; again a deep unease spread through his body. “Yes, you can,” he said forcibly. “You did tell me about him, that was a huge step—and I know you’re going to tell Liz and Fiona. Since then, you’ve spent the better part of four days in bed with me. I’m going to sound arrogant as hell, but you liked making love with me—nobody can fake the way we were together. Wasn’t that another giant step? In bed with me, you let yourself be the woman you really are.”

  The force of his willpower battered at her defences; his eyes were a hard steel-blue. “I can’t risk getting close to you.”

  “Dammit, you’ve been as close to me as you can get. In bed, in my arms.”

  “That’s not what I mean. That’s just sex. Astounding and incredible sex. But still sex. I mean intimacy, real intimacy. The kind that hurts too much when it goes wrong.”

  “You’re assuming it’s going to go wrong.”

  “You say you’re different from Steve. But you’re also like him. Handsome, charismatic, sexy, from a wider world than my own, with more money. I fell for Steve lock, stock and barrel—and I’ve paid for that mistake ever since. I can’t afford to get involved with you.” Her voice rose. “Why don’t you understand?”

  “Outwardly, maybe I am like Steve. But did you yell at him like you just yelled at me?”

  She flinched. “Initially, yes.”

  “Are you afraid of me, Karyn?”

  Her shoulders sagged. As usual, he’d gone to the heart of the matter. Choosing her words, she said, “I’m afraid of what might happen if we continue seeing each other. You’re a very powerful man—you wouldn’t have risen to the top if you weren’t. You’re used to getting your own way. In business, and with women, I’m sure.” Her smile was twisted. “I don’t imagine you get turned down very often.”

  This time some of his anger escaped in his voice. “You think I’m after you just because you’re unwilling? That’s how I get my kicks?”

  “I didn’t say that! All I’m saying is no. Two letters, one syllable, not a complicated word. No, I don’t want you to come to Heddingley with me. No, I’m not interested in a relationship with you.”

  “Because of Steve.”

  “Because I lived in fear of my husband for months—a man I’d married for love.”

  “We all have our nightmares.”

  In deliberate challenge she said, “What are yours, Rafe?”

  “Realizing at age seven that my parents, for all their fine lineage, were dirt poor, and that I might be stuck in a moldering old castle for the rest of my days.”

  “From which Douglas rescued you…is that all?”

  “Going to boarding school and having the tar beaten out of me because word had gotten out that I didn’t have two pennies to rub together. After that, I learned to f
ight dirty.”

  “You still do,” she said caustically.

  “No, I don’t—I don’t need to.” Briefly his jaw hardened. “Celine was the one who fought dirty. Telling me she adored me and neglecting to mention she adored three other men at the same time. Now that’s dirty.”

  “Then for the next six years you avoided passion and intimacy—six years, Rafe! Steve drowned a year ago. Yet you want me to pretend it didn’t happen?”

  He said with fierce conviction, “If I’d met you a year after I dumped Celine, I’d still be acting the way I’m acting right now.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that?”

  “Yes,” he grated, “you are. Look, I understand that my nightmares, bad as they were at the time, can’t possibly compare with yours. I’ll give you all the time you need. But in the meantime I have to be able to see you.”

  “Rafe, I hate this! I can’t do it. I won’t.”

  “Then Steve wins—is that what you want?”

  “Of course he wins,” she said wearily. “His kind always does.”

  “That doesn’t have to be true—get to know me and see that I’m not like him at all.”

  Rafe was gripping the back of the nearest chair, his knuckles bone-white with strain. Compassion ripped through her; but even that didn’t—couldn’t—change her mind. “The only way you get to know someone is by living with him,” she said in a low voice. “I trusted the world until Steve came along. He destroyed every vestige of my innocence. My trust in men, of course. But even worse, my trust in myself, in my own judgment.”

  “So are you going to stay alone for the rest of your life?”

  She shivered. “How can I answer that?”

  Ruthlessly he drove his advantage. “Don’t you want children? You’d make a wonderful mother.”

  Her face pinched, she whispered, “Yes, I’d like to have children. But not so much that I’ll marry to get them.”

  He played his last card…what did he have to lose? “I want to marry you—you must have figured that out by now.”

  “You what?”

  He glanced around the elegant, impersonal lounge with its aura of impermanence, of travelers passing through on their way to other destinations. “I’d hoped to tell you this in a more romantic setting,” he said harshly. “I’ve fallen in love with you, you’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Wife. Lover. Mother of my children. The whole deal.”

  She said the first thing that came to mind. “But you scarcely know me.”

  “I know you. Going to bed with you, spending the last four days with you, how could I not know you? Anyway, you’re forgetting I’ve known Fiona all my life. Your identical twin, who had the courage to fall in love and fight for a new life. You’ve got that same courage, Karyn. You just have to find it and trust in it.”

  “I was married for twenty-three months to a man who made every day a living nightmare,” Karyn said bitterly. “That’s the difference between Fiona and me.”

  He was losing her, Rafe thought. Right in front of his eyes, Karyn was moving away from him. He’d never begged for anything in his life; but if ever he needed to, it was now. He said roughly, “Forget I said I want to marry you. Or that I’ve fallen in love with you. Dammit, we’ll even stay away from the bedroom if that’s what it takes. But just let me keep on seeing you—that’s all I ask.”

  Tears stung her eyes. For a man of Rafe’s pride to humble himself for her sake…how could she bear it? “I’m not the woman for you, Rafe. I can’t give you what you want—I’m so sorry. We should never have gone away together. I swear I wasn’t using you, it just didn’t occur to me that you might fall in love with me. If I’d thought there was any chance of that, I’d never have agreed to going to Greece with you.”

  Naked honesty shone from the shimmering blue of her irises. She wasn’t playing games with him, Rafe thought. She wasn’t like that. “Give me time,” he said in a voice he scarcely recognized as his own. “Let me prove I can give you all the freedom you need, and that I trust you utterly. But don’t send me away.”

  “I have to.” Her voice wavered. “I’m sorry, Rafe, I hate hurting you like this. But I can’t love you the way you want me to. Far better to end this now than drag it out and cause you more pain. Please—don’t come to Heddingley with me. Go back to England and forget about me. Please.”

  He had his answer, and it was no. Finally and irrefutably no. His one need to get out of the lounge and away from her without revealing the raw agony clamped around his heart, Rafe pushed himself upright and said with formal politeness, “I’ll speak to the pilot. He’ll take you to the Charlottetown airport. I’ll stay in London, I have some business I can do there.”

  She’d won. Exhaustion settling on her shoulders like a dead weight, Karyn said with answering formality, “Thank you. Goodbye, Rafe.” She didn’t hold out her hand or try to kiss him; to touch him would have undercut the last remnants of her control.

  He said, “Wait here, the pilot will come for you shortly.” Looking around like a man unsure of his bearings, he picked up his leather briefcase from the marble table and marched out of the lounge. The door swished shut behind him.

  Karyn sat down hard on the nearest chair. She couldn’t cry now, not when an employee of Rafe’s could walk in at any moment. She concentrated fiercely on her breathing, trying to loosen the tight bands of tension around her chest.

  She was going home. Home was where she needed to be. Until then, all she had to do was concentrate on holding herself together.

  Her little house, the birch trees, the weed-ridden garden…that was where she belonged.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HOME had subtly shifted while Karyn was in Greece with Rafe. It echoed with silence and with her self-imposed solitude. Rafe wasn’t there with her to share her jokes, to argue about a political situation, to describe a painting he’d seen in Moscow or a sculpture in Florence. To offset this, she put the TV on for white noise, played a lot of raucous rock music and did her best to root out the weeds in her mother’s garden.

  He wasn’t there in bed with her, either. Not when she lay down, or when she woke in the night reaching for him, or when her body tormented her with hungers only he could feed.

  He didn’t contact her, by e-mail, phone or letter. It was as though he’d dropped off the planet.

  She’d told him, more or less, to do just that. She had no cause to complain.

  At the clinic she worked like a woman possessed, taking on extra shifts and staying after office hours, ostensibly to bring her records up to date, in actuality because she didn’t want to go home. At least there were other people at the clinic; and when they got too much, there were dogs and cats who didn’t require intelligent conversation of her.

  Her second evening home, Liz phoned. “You got back yesterday, didn’t you? Tell me all about your holiday—was it wonderful?”

  “I’m not seeing Rafe again,” Karyn blurted. “Except at Fiona’s wedding.” Which now loomed as ominous as a herd of sick elephants.

  “Whatever happened?”

  Her tongue falling over the words, Karyn found herself pouring out an abbreviated version of her marriage. “We can talk more about it some other time,” she finished, her voice jagged. “But you do understand why I can’t keep on seeing Rafe.”

  Liz said carefully, “So you didn’t enjoy yourself in Greece?”

  “Of course I did, it was fantastic. But it was totally divorced from reality…Rafe and I are worlds apart and that’s the way I’m going to keep it. I’ll bring back your dress tomorrow, Liz. Just don’t ask any questions, okay?”

  Liz would have had to be stone-deaf not to hear the misery in her friend’s voice; she changed the subject, invited Karyn for dinner and didn’t mention Greece, Rafe or the pretty sea-green dress. That same day, Karyn boxed up the diamond pendant Rafe had given her and sent it by registered mail to Stoneriggs.

  Lacking the courage to talk to Fiona by telephone, Karyn e-mailed
her. It was a brief and chirpy note, saying she’d had an incredible holiday but she was back to her real life now.

  Three days passed without a reply, Karyn each morning searching in vain among her new messages for one from her sister. On the fourth day she fired off another e-mail, chatting about the dogs and cats she’d been tending, and asking about John. Again, there was no response.

  Surely, Karyn thought in despair, focusing on the screen as though she could conjure up the reply she sought, her breakup with Rafe wouldn’t cause her to lose Fiona’s love. Life couldn’t be that cruel.

  The next day was Saturday, Karyn’s day off. She slept in, had a luxurious soak in the tub and made a fruit salad and pancakes for breakfast. The sun was shining; she could work in the garden all day. She should have been happy.

  She wasn’t.

  She was upstairs cleaning her teeth when the doorbell rang. She glanced out of the window; a taxi was reversing from the driveway. Her heart gave a great lurch in her chest. Rafe, she thought. Who else would arrive by taxi other than him?

  Oh, God, what would she say to him?

  She looked down at herself: denim cutoffs, an old tank top and bare feet. She sure wasn’t dressed for the Attica Resort. Taking a deep breath, she walked downstairs and pulled open the door.

  Fiona was standing on the step, a small overnight bag in her hand.

  Karyn’s jaw dropped. “Fiona,” she cried, “I—come in, I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  Then, in a jolt of pure terror, she realized Fiona didn’t look at all happy to be here. Her sister looked—grim was the only word that came to mind. “Rafe,” Karyn said faintly, the color draining from her face, “something’s happened to Rafe.” She grabbed Fiona by the wrist. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

  Fiona said coldly, “What do you care?”

  “Don’t, Fiona! Just tell me if he’s all right—you’ve got to tell me!”

  “Except for a broken heart, he’s fine.”