"It's no trouble. Anyway, I'm looking forward to our outing."
With a cheery salute he went down the drive and Sharon returned to the bouse. Whether or not Helen's remarks about his being a flirt were true, it was impossible not to like him.
Though reluctant to see Adam and Helen, she was unwilling to go to bed without saying good night to her mother-in-law, and drawing a deep breath she entered the drawing room. Helen was there alone, but before Sharon could step back out, the girl beckoned her in.
"Adam's taken his mother to her room. Come in and keep me company. Did you see Simon in the garden?"
"For a moment."
Helen's mocking glance made words unnecessary and Sharon felt herself colouring.
"I think I'll go to bed myself. I'm rather tired."
"Don't rush off yet. This is a good opportunity for us to get acquainted."
Sharon shrugged and sat down.
"Do you think you'll stay here the month?" Helen asked.
"I don't see why not."
"I'd hate to stay anywhere I wasn't welcome." The dark eyes sparkled angrily. "You must know what Adam thinks of you!"
"I know what he thought of his brother! And I think he behaved without any understanding!"
"He did the only thing he could. His main desire was to keep his mother ignorant of what a swine Rufus was!"
"Obviously you didn't like Rufus, either!"
"I loathed him."
"Why?"
"You can ask me that?" Helen glared at her. "Don't you know that before he went to Africa I was going to marry him?"
"No." Sharon absorbed the knowledge but couldn't feel any emotion about it." Or at least if I did know, I can't remember."
Helen snorted. "You'll be telling me next you don't know about the cheque and the jewellery?"
"I'm afraid I don't." Sharon moistened her lips. "At least I… Adam only told me about the cheque."
"Rufus stole some jewellery, too—from his mother. Adam will give you the details if you don't believe me. Mrs. Peters doesn't know, of course. Adam let her think it was a burglar." Helen crossed one slim leg over the other. "He told me though. He hoped I could make Rufus return it. Unfortunately it didn't work out that way. Rufus had already sold the stuff."
"What happened after that?"
"I broke my engagement. Adam was furious. He had wanted me to marry Rufus and go away with him. It's only in the last few months that he's come round to my way of thinking." Her eyes narrowed. "He realises no decent girl could have stayed with him; he was an out and out rotter!"
Sharon sprang up. "You're being very insulting."
"I don't mean to be. I thought we were talking straight."
"Straight venom," Sharon retorted and stalked angrily from the room.
By the time she was outside her mother-in-law's bedroom she had managed to control her temper, and she looked unruffled as she entered and paused by the bed.
"I'm sorry I stayed out so long," she apologized. "I got lost in thought and didn't realise how late it was."
"Not sad thoughts, I hope?"
"Oh, no." Impulsively she bent and kissed the lined cheek. "I couldn't be sad when you're so good to me."
"I haven't even started yet. You're going to be so happy here, you'll never want to leave." The woman patted her hand "I'm glad you're going riding with Simon."
"I nearly cried off," Sharon admitted. "I don't have any riding clothes, but he's lending me a pair of his sister's trousers."
"I never knew he had a sister." Mrs. Peters yawned and Sharon retreated to the door. "Come and see me in the morning, child."
"I will. And thank you again for everything."
In her own room, Sharon undressed and sat by the window, too restless to sleep. Everything she had learned from Helen returned to haunt her, making her wonder how she could have married a man so devoid of principles. Helen had said he had charm, but she could not see herself being so carried away by that trait that she would lose her sense of judgment. She pressed her hands to her temples. Had she loved Rufus so blindly that she hadn't seen him for what he was? Or was she, as Adam maintained, no better than Rufus had been?
She jumped up and crossed to the bureau. She gazed intently at the photograph of her husband, willing herself to remember.
The sound of a car moving down the drive brought her back to the present. Adam must be taking Helen home. She glanced at her watch. It was midnight. She thought of the dinner she had left almost untouched and the breakfast that was still eight hours away. She debated what to do about the hunger that now gnawed at her.
Deciding that if she remained hungry she would never get to sleep, she slipped on the full-skirted red dressing gown that lay at the foot of the bed—another present acquired that day—and tiptoed down the stairs.
All the lights were out except a small lamp on the hall table. Her foot was on the bottom step when the library door was flung open.
She half screamed, suppressing it as she recognized Adam.
"I thought you were a burglar! I heard a car leave and…"
"Helen drove herself home." He moved nearer, though his face was still in shadow. "What do you want?"
"Some milk and munch."
"What?"
"I'm hungry. I didn't have much dinner. I was too nervous."
"Or too excited by the loot you'd acquired!" He paused as though expecting her angry denial.
"I'm not going to let you bait me, Adam. I can't defend myself when I don't know myself."
"You know how you feel," he said coldly.
"I only know I feel so different from… Oh, what's the use!"
She flung away to the door that led to the kitchen quarters and then, halfway through it, stopped and turned.
"Helen told me that Rufus stole some of his mother's jewellery. I'm positive I didn't know about it."
"Perhaps my brother didn't tell you. There may be many things you don't know about him." Adam strode over to her. "How real is your amnesia, I wonder? You look like an angel with your big blue eyes and silver gilt hair, yet I know that underneath you're…"
Sombrely he allowed his eyes to speak the words he would not say, his gaze roving her body with slow intensity.
"Why do you hate me so much?" she asked. "What have I done to you?"
"It's what you're doing," he said thickly, catching her abruptly by the shoulders. "Such innocence!" he muttered, peering into her face. "What are you like behind the angel mask?"
Any reply she might have made was stifled as his month came down on hers. She stiffened with resistance but he ignored it, his lips increasing their pressure until they forced her own to part. The heat from him seemed to intensify, melting her anger and dissolving her fear. Her arms clasped his neck and she relaxed against him, her senses telling her she was travelling a road she had never travelled before. But desire showed her the way, propelled her hands to his hair, his back, beneath his jacket to his chest. His thighs were like steel against her own, his muscles riding as passion began to overcome control.
As suddenly as he had caught her, he let her go and she swayed against the wall.
"Adam…"
"No!" Without another word he turned on his heel and left her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sharon could not face the prospect of seeing Adam the next morning and decided to have breakfast with Mrs. Peters.
She was coming out of the bathroom when Beryl entered with a parcel containing a pair of jodhpurs and a riding jacket.
"They're from Mr. Lennox. He said to tell you he'll be waiting for you at ten."
"I only hope they fit," Sharon smiled and proceeded to put them on.
Regarding her reflection a little later she was delighted with her appearance. Simon's sister was near enough her own size to give an idea of how well a perfectly tailored riding habit would suit her. If she stayed here for any length of time she would have one made. The idea brought with it the knowledge that she was a guest on sufferance, and her pleasure in
the morning ahead dimmed.
But her smile was bright as she entered Mrs. Peters's room and found her sitting up in bed, surrounded by pastel-coloured cushions.
"You look good in trousers, my dear. I can just picture you on a horse.''
"I only hope I can stay on it long enough to justify the bother! I must say these things feel familiar on me though. I'm sure I've worn jodhpurs before."
She pivoted and then perched on the bed as Mrs. Peters's personal maid—a grey-haired, thin-faced woman called Margaret—wheeled in a trolley with two breakfasts set out on it.
Between sipping coffee and eating toast, Sharon read aloud tidbits of gossip from a couple of newspapers and Mrs. Peters capped several anecdotes with others of her own. Sharon could easily imagine her as a young girl waltzing her way through London society, leaving a trail of broken hearts.
"Do you enjoy living in the country?" Sharon asked. "I'd have thought it rather dull if you're restricted in what you do."
"I can still go for drives and enjoy the garden. Besides, I'm not young, like you. I need peace and quiet."
"So do I," Sharon said with heartfelt agreement.
"I'm sure you won't when you're completely better. I wish you'd stay here permanently."
"I can't." Sharon visualised Adam's reaction to his mother's remark. "In fact, I'd like to leave quite soon."
"But you've only arrived! And we've so much to talk about. I'm hoping that when your memory returns we'll be able to talk about Rufus." The lined face puckered. "Aren't you happy here? I know I can be a bossy old lady but—"
"That's not true!"Sharon sank on her knees beside the bed. "You've been marvellous to me. Warm and kind and generous. I feel as if I've known you all my life. In fact, I have known you all the life I can remember!"
"Then why must you talk of leaving? Has Adam said something to upset you?"
"It has nothing to do with him."
"I can easily talk to him and—"
"No! Please don't."
"Then why the sudden urge to go? Is it because of Helen?"
"I couldn't care less about Helen."
"Ah! She did say something to upset you!" Mrs. Peters looked pleased with her guesswork. "I suppose Rufus didn't tell you he'd been engaged to her? He always hated admitting he'd done anything he regretted. As a little boy he'd get furious if he were caught doing something naughty. Quite different from Adam, in that respect. He'd always own up. Sometimes he even took the blame for Rufus. I always knew, mind you, though I pretended I didn't." Mrs. Peters pursed her lips. "But where was I? Oh yes, Helen."
"My wanting to go has nothing to do with her," Sharon stated. "I swear it."
"I'm glad. She's had a very unhappy life. She was so upset when Rufus went to South Africa that she left the district and married a man years older than herself. When he died she came back here and has tried to rebuild her life."
"She seems to be doing quite well," Sharon replied, "though suffering doesn't seem to have taught her compassion."
"We don't all learn by our experiences," Mrs. Peters murmured. "Helen's a nice girl but a trifle hard. I'm telling you this so you won't mind her sharp tongue. This is your home now, Sharon. Nothing can alter that."
"Except Helen's marriage to Adam!"
There was a long pause, broken only by Mrs. Peters's pushing the trolley away from the bed.
"I shouldn't have said that," Sharon apologised. "It's only natural for you to want him to marry. And if he and Helen…"
"There's nothing between them… officially. Adam sees quite a bit of her but he's never spoken to me about his feelings for her. That's a sure sign he isn't certain about them. But even if he does marry her, your home is still with me. We can both move to another house. Maybe a rustic cottage somewhere nearby."
Tears blurred Sharon's vision and she almost wished Adam would marry Helen at once. Then the cottage could become a reality and she would have no need to go away.
"Please stay," Mrs. Peters repeated. "You agreed to a month. I heard Adam say so. If you want to leave after that, I won't argue with you."
It was impossible to refuse such a request and Sharon nodded.
"I feel as if I've known you far longer than a couple of days," Mrs. Peters went on. "You're exactly the wife I'd have chosen for Rufus—for either of my sons, in fact."
Sharon tried to see herself as Adam's wife and quickly shied away from the thought. "You still miss Rufus terribly, don't you?"
"Yes. The year he left home was dreadful for me. Everything went wrong. I lost some of my favourite pieces of jewellery—to this day we've never discovered who stole them—and Adam went around in the blackest mood I've ever seen him in. For months after Rufus left he was barely civil to anyone. They were very fond of each other, you know."
"I can't imagine Adam being fond of anybody."
"That's because you don't understand him. He feels things very deeply and he's reluctant to let people know it." Blue-veined hands plucked at the sheet. "I don't know why he's so rude to you. I'm sure it has something to do with his attachment to Rufus."
"I'm sure you're right." Sharon clutched at this suggestion like a drowning man at a straw. Far better for Mrs. Peters to think this than to guess that Adam considered his sister-in-law a gold digger and an unloving wife to his brother. "I'm sure my being here reminds him of things he wants to forget. It will be better for him when I leave."
"But I don't want you to leave! I'll talk to him and-"
"No." Sharon put her hand over her mother-in- law's. "I agreed to stay a month and I will. Now please don't get excited. It's bad for you." She gently pushed the trembling body back against the cushions. "If you'll tell me where your pills are…"
"I don't need my pills." Mrs. Peters closed her eyes.
"It's this ridiculous heart of mine. The doctor's always warning me not to get excited. That's why you mustn't talk of leaving."
Sharon could not help smiling. Less than sixty seconds ago her mother-in-law had agreed not to press her to stay more than a month; now it was turning into forever. "Dear mama-in-law, you're trying to blackmail me!"
"I know!" The faded eyes were bright with unexpected mischief. "And I hope I'm going to win. Now run along or you'll be late for your date with Simon."
Thankfully Sharon went down to the garden. Heartwarming though her mother-in-law's admiration for her was, it nevertheless imposed an obligation on her she was reluctant to fulfill. Slowly she made her way to the stables, brushing aside her problems when she saw Simon Lennox.
"I'm glad to see the clothes fit you," he smiled.
"Perfectly." She watched as he led out two horses. "Which one's mine?"
He indicated a glossy chestnut mare and Sharon stroked the velvety nose.
"What a beauty you are. Even if I find I can't ride, it's going to be a pleasure to fall off you!"
But no sooner was she in the saddle than she knew she was a capable horsewoman, and to prove it, she dug in her knees and gave the animal its head.
She had galloped a mile across country before Simon caught up with her. She reined in and turned to him, laughing, as he drew abreast. Then they trotted side by side.
"You can certainly ride!" he exclaimed.
"It was wonderful! How far is it to the Rockforth farm?"
"We'll be there in ten minutes. My business won't take long."
"I don't mind. I'll take a stroll while I'm waiting. It's time I saw something of the countryside."
It was ten-thirty when they reached the farmhouse and, leaving Simon to tether their horses, Sharon wandered off to explore. Climbing a stile, she crossed a field and entered a small wood where tall saplings sheltered clumps of crocuses, daffodils and vivid patches of moss.
Walking down a slope she came to a clear stream rippling over shiny pebbles. She sat on the bank and idly threw stones into the water. A fish moved beneath the surface and a large bubble formed on the water. She drew a deep breath. How peaceful it was here! If only she need never go bac
k to the dark house with its hostile master.
Thoughts of Adam brought even more unpleasant thoughts. Was he right in his assessment of her or were her own instincts about herself more reliable? Although she longed for her memory to return, she dreaded it, afraid there might be truth in the accusations he had hurled at her.
Twigs crackled and she turned to see Simon approaching. His hair blew in the breeze and the yellow silk kerchief around his throat made a patch of colour beneath his tanned face.
She glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I'd been here so long."
"It's no sweat. I was through sooner that I expected so I thought I'd come and look for you." He flopped on the bank at her feet. "It was a bit of luck for me, your coming to Green Spinney. There aren't any attractive girls round these parts."
"What about Helen?"
"Too hard-boiled for my liking." He leaned on his elbow and stared at her. "I hope you're going to like it here."
"I love it," she said, then changed the subject. "Does your sister come down often?"
"No. She lives in London."
"Is she younger than you?"
"Yes."
"What does she do?"
A withdrawn look came over his face. "She's always changing jobs and I can never keep track of her."
"Well, I'm glad you kept track of her long enough for her to come down and leave her riding kit here."
Before she could move he stretched out his arm and pulled her forward until his lips could press hers in a moist and demanding kiss.
Instantly she pushed him away and jumped to her feet.
"You had no right to do that!"
He scrambled up, his expression rueful. "It's your own fault. You shouldn't look so kissable."
"I've no intention of walking round wearing a yashmak!" She was only partly mollified. "I don't like being kissed by strangers."
"I won't do it again… unless I'm asked." He stretched out his hand. "Forgiven?"
She shrugged and set off the way they had come. The tranquility of the wood calmed her, helping her to put the scene with Simon into perspective. It was childish to flare up over a kiss. Anyone would think she was an untouched virgin. Yet her body had recoiled from the open passion Simon Lennox had displayed, though the previous night… She mused on this, trying and failing to find some clue about herself in the way she had reacted.
Rachel Lindsay - Forgotten Marriage Page 4