by Penny Jordan
‘Somer…is this true?’ Her father looked so bewildered, and, yes, hurt, and Somer darted a bitter glance at Chase Lorimer. How dared he stand there so tall and confident, lying to her father? She wanted to deny what he had said. To throw his words back in his face, but her denial choked in her throat as she remembered his threats.
‘Darling girl, why didn’t you tell me you had fallen in love?’ Sir Duncan chided gently. ‘What an ogre you must think me to put my own comfort before your happiness. Of course you mustn’t come with me.’
‘I knew you’d understand, Sir Duncan.’ Satisfaction gleamed in Chase’s green eyes. ‘And you mustn’t blame Somer too much, for not telling you about us.’ He reached out and grasped Somer’s hand before she could evade him, carrying her fingers to his lips. ‘Forgive me, darling,’ he murmured huskily, ‘I know what we agreed, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t let you go. I fell in love with her five years ago in Jersey, but she ran away before I could tell her so,’ Chase continued to her father, much as though Somer wasn’t there, ‘and then we bumped into one another several months ago.’
‘And this time she didn’t run,’ Sir Duncan said, directing a brief smile at Somer.
‘This time I didn’t let her,’ Chase corrected. ‘Why don’t you go and pour all three of us a drink, my darling, while I try to convince your father that I’m able to take proper care of you.’
‘Chase, we’re expecting people for dinner at any moment,’ Somer began stiffly. Whatever she had expected when she had sent him her note it hadn’t been this. No doubt this was his way of making it impossible for her to change her mind, she thought bitterly, and to judge from her father’s reaction, although his announcement had stunned him, he was also quite pleased.
‘Somer’s godparents in actual fact,’ Sir Duncan told Chase. ‘You must join us, I’m sure they’ll be as surprised by your announcement as I was. Somer, you should have told me,’ he continued reproachfully. ‘She always did have an over-active conscience,’ he added to Chase. ‘Why don’t you come into my study, er…?’
‘Chase, Chase Lorimer,’ Chase supplied promptly.
‘Of course,’ Somer heard her father murmuring as he ushered his guest down the passage which led to his own private sanctum. ‘Television West you’re with, aren’t you? You’ve done very well there by all accounts, turned it round in six months.’
Chase turned to follow her father, and Somer hissed bitterly at him, ‘I suppose you think you’re very clever, turning up here like this.’
‘Just making sure that…’ He bent his head swiftly, taking her half-parted lips in a hard kiss, releasing her almost as quickly.
Her breath exploded in her lungs, her eyes spitting fire at him until she realised her father was watching them in amusement.
‘Sorry about that,’ Chase apologised without a trace of real regret, ‘but it has been a very long time…’
‘Almost twenty-four hours,’ Somer agreed with mock sweetness.
‘One thousand, four hundred and forty minutes,’ Chase agreed with a theatrical sigh. ‘I know, I’ve counted every one of them.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘AND now, I think the time has come for me to make a rather special announcement.’
In her chair opposite Chase and next to her father, Somer’s fingers toyed nervously with the stem of her fluted champagne glass, knowing what was coming. She had already seen the covert looks Peter and Moira had been exchanging ever since they had arrived, and had no difficulty in tracing them to Chase’s unexpected presence.
* * *
‘SO, WHEN ARE YOU going to be married?’ Somer was sitting next to Moira in the drawing-room trying to answer the older woman’s excited questions with as much composure as she could muster.
‘Oh I…’
‘Just as soon as it can be arranged. I’m not giving her any opportunity to change her mind.’
Somer jumped nervously, spilling some of her coffee. She hadn’t heard Chase approach and cursed him mentally just as she had been doing all evening.
‘Well, you certainly kept him a secret,’ Moira commented when Chase moved away to talk to Somer’s father. ‘I had no idea there was anyone serious.’
‘I…that is we haven’t known one another very long,’ Somer mumbled awkwardly. She had never been a good liar and she bitterly resented the insidious position she now found herself in. She was uncomfortably aware of the puzzled and slightly hurt glances her father gave her from time to time, no doubt wondering why she had not confided in him. Why on earth had Chase come here tonight? She would have preferred to tell her father in her own way.
‘I don’t think one needs a long time when it’s love,’ Moira surprised her by saying. ‘I knew the moment I met Peter. I think your new fiancé is rather impatient to have you to himself,’ she added with a mischievous smile, ‘so I’ll go and join your father and Peter.’
As she left Chase took her place. The settee was only a small one and Somer found herself shrinking back automatically as she felt the warmth of his body brush against hers.
‘We’re supposed to be in love—remember?’ Chase murmured the words softly against her ear.
‘Why did you come here tonight?’ Somer demanded. ‘I wanted to tell my father myself.’
‘Did you?’
The mocking disbelief in his eyes enraged her. ‘Yes, I did,’ she said grittily, ‘but now that you are here, I want one thing to be clearly understood right from the start.’
‘Yes?’
‘I want your confirmation that our marriage will be strictly in name only.’
There was a curiously intense silence during which Somer could not summon the courage to look at him, and then to her chagrin he laughed. ‘Oh I’m sure I can manage to restrain myself on that score, but…’
‘Yes?’ Somer demanded sharply.
‘What I ask myself, my sweet,’ Chase drawled lazily, ‘is can you?’
Her eyes mirrored her shocked fury, but the biting pressure of his fingers closed around hers warned against voicing it. Peter and Moira were preparing to leave and Somer walked with her father to the door to see them off. ‘I’m so thrilled for you,’ Moira whispered as she kissed Somer’s cheek. ‘He’s just the sort of man you need, Somer. Now don’t forget to let me know the date of the wedding.’
Chase was still in the drawing-room, but as her father closed the front door, she hesitated, conscious of the need to say something to him, and yet still too angry with Chase to trust herself not to betray the truth to her father, albeit accidentally, once they started to talk.
‘Moira’s right,’ he surprised her by saying, with a brief smile. ‘He is right for you. You need a strong man, Somer. All the MacDonald women do.’
‘Someone who’ll beat me regularly once a day and twice on Sundays,’ Somer said acidly.
To her relief her father chuckled, and then added more soberly, ‘No, what you need is a man who is mentally strong because you have such strength yourself. If you picked a weak man sooner or later you’d start to despise him. You need a man you can respect, Somer. I think you’ve chosen well.’
A man she could respect! If only he knew. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
‘I like him,’ Sir Duncan continued. ‘Although I must say it’s come as something of a shock. You should have told me.’
‘I wasn’t sure how serious Chase was.’ The lie seemed to stick in her throat, but it was for her father’s sake that she was doing this; that she was committing herself to this charade of a marriage, she reminded herself bitterly. If he started to suspect something now. ‘And by the time I realised that he was…’
‘Yes, I did rather get the impression he’s rushing you off your feet a little. This marriage is what you want, isn’t it?’ He paused and looked thoughtfully at her. ‘You are quite sure that he’s the one?’
‘Yes.’ The lie whispered past her lips.
‘Come on then, we’d better get back to the drawing-room before he
thinks I’m coaxing you to change your mind. You mustn’t worry about not coming to Qu’Hoor. The Government is providing me with a secretary-cum-aide, a young man who comes highly recommended.’
Chase was still sitting on the settee when they walked back into the drawing-room, and Somer had no option but to go and sit beside him while her father poured them all a final drink.
‘To you both,’ he toasted, raising his own glass. ‘I hope you find as much happiness in your marriage as I did in mine.’ He finished his drink, replacing his glass on a small table. ‘And now I think I’ll go up to bed.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘I’m sure you two have plenty to talk about.’
Chase stood up and the two men shook hands. Looking at him no one would guess the means he had used to force this engagement on her. He appeared the epitome of a man very much in love, right down to the way his eyes slid from her father’s face to hers, Somer reflected sardonically. She would be wise to remember that her future husband was an accomplished actor.
‘Would you like another drink before you leave?’ Somer asked jerkily when the door had closed behind her father. All at once the atmosphere in the drawing-room was infused with a subtle tension. The tiny hairs on her arms prickled warningly, her throat was dry and tense.
‘Always the gracious hostess,’ Chase mocked, ‘and no, I would not like another drink. I only stayed because your father expected it. No doubt right now he thinks the pair of us are in each other’s arms taking full advantage of our privacy, although you hardly put on a convincing show of a woman deeply in love this evening.’
‘Perhaps because I’m not as accomplished at deception as you obviously are,’ Somer responded tautly, standing up and moving away from him to stand and face the window looking out on to the dark garden.
The warm breath stirring the hair at the back of her neck alerted her to his presence, her whole body going tight with apprehension. She hadn’t heard him approach and wished he would go away.
‘Then you’ll just have to learn, won’t you,’ he mocked softly.
‘Not if you’re the one doing the teaching.’
‘Oh.’ His voice was silky smooth. ‘I seem to remember there was a time when you were most anxious to take advantage of my…experience.’
Hot colour bloomed on Somer’s pale skin. ‘You enjoy reminding me about that, don’t you?’ she seethed furiously. ‘You must love throwing it back in my face. It gives you almost as big a kick as rejecting me did in the first place.’
‘If you say so.’ He sounded bored, indifferent almost, and Somer whirled round to face him, checking when she saw how close this brought her to his body. There was only an inch or so between them, and she could feel the panicky sensation returning. Fear held her immobile, tremulous and breathing unevenly beneath his slow appraisal of her.
‘Please leave,’ she managed at last. ‘I’m sure we’ve been down here long enough to convince my father that…’
‘That I’m making love to you?’ Chase taunted, his mouth twisting slightly. ‘That isn’t why I stayed.’
‘Then…’
‘I stayed to give you this.’ He reached into his pocket and produced a small leather box, flicking the lid open and removing the contents. Somer gasped when she caught the brilliant flash of sapphires and diamonds.
‘Give me your hand.’
Her fingers curled away from him in mute protest. It suddenly seemed a sacrilege to let him put the ring on her finger; a betrayal of all that she had believed in and hoped for, but he was already grasping her fingers and uncurling them, sliding the silver and blue flashing band on to her finger, imprisoning her in the web of deceit he had spun round her.
‘It fits.’ She murmured the words more to herself than him, startled when he laughed, a warm pleasant sound.
‘I told the jeweller you had long slender hands.’ He was still holding one of those hands imprisoned within his and before Somer could stop him he raised it to his lips, lazily uncurling her tense fingers and dropping a light kiss in her palm. Dark lashes shadowed his eyes, an ache of pain rising up inside her as she dwelt on the mockery of his action. The dark lashes flicked up and he caught the look before she could hide it.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I hate what you’re making me do. I hate you!’
‘But once you wanted me to make love to you. You wanted me to take your virginity,’ he reminded her softly. ‘But it wasn’t me you wanted, was it, Somer? It was just a man—any man.’ He laughed in softly savage satisfaction as his words hit home. ‘Ah yes, my dear, remember that when you feel like letting me know how much you despise me. Did the man who eventually took your virginity from you know that that was all he was; just a man?’
‘Get out…get out…’
She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so bitterly angry. She could feel it boiling up inside her in a red-hot, blinding tide, so all encompassing that she didn’t even realise Chase had gone until she heard the door close behind him. She glanced down at her hand, hating the precious stones glittering there. She was committed now, committed and trapped, and all because she had once, foolishly and naïvely, trusted him. Well, she had learned her lesson; she would never trust him or any other man again.
* * *
MUCH TO Somer’s surprise and irritation Chase had opted for a church wedding, and although initially they had agreed on a very small number of guests, the list had grown and grown until it contained fifty-odd names. They were fortunate in that Sir Duncan’s London home was large enough to hold all the guests for the reception. Outside caterers had been engaged, and Somer had found herself drawn unwillingly into discussions concerning what flowers to decorate the house and church with; what menu should be chosen, and a hundred and one other small details. At least they helped to keep her occupied, she thought tiredly, one half of her mind listening to what Moira was saying, the other running round in terrified circles, unable to believe that this time tomorrow she would be Chase Lorimer’s wife. Her dress hung in her room carefully protected by a dust-sheet. The hairdresser was calling in the morning. The cake had arrived and Mrs McLeod was busily engaged in checking china and glass. Her father had thrown himself into the venture with considerable enthusiasm, insisting that he wanted her to have the sort of wedding she would always remember—how could he know that it was something she would only want to forget—and two MacDonald cousins had been press-ganged into acting as her bridesmaids. The whole thing was a ridiculous farce and try as she could she couldn’t accept that she was one of its central figures. It seemed as though she were engaged on making all these arrangements for someone else; that another girl was going to wear that white dress hanging in her room; and that that other girl would be the one walking down the aisle to meet Chase Lorimer.
* * *
THE MORNING of the wedding dawned fine and clear. Somer seemed to move through the day like someone in a dream. By eleven o’clock she was longing for just five minutes to herself, to such an extent that she felt that she wanted to scream. She seemed to be surrounded by people fussing over her, the effort of maintaining her role as the happy, excited bride so much of a strain she had had to force back the desire to scream, ‘I don’t love him, I hate him and I don’t want to marry him.’
Mrs McLeod and Moira helped her into her dress, a misty froth of white chiffon. She drove with her father to the church without seeing a single thing outside the car windows. Her fingers were as cold as ice, but the rest of her body seemed to be burning, consumed by fierce heat that made her dizzy and unable to concentrate. Everything seemed to be happening to her at a distance, as though she were enclosed in a protective bubble which no one but she could see. The interior of the church was cool after the heat outside. The walk down the aisle seemed to last forever, but at last it was over, and the vicar was sonorously intoning the words of the marriage service. Somer made her responses in a voice devoid of emotion, blank with despair and disbelief that this could actually be happening.
Chase took
her hand to slide his ring on to her finger. His flesh felt warm and firm in stark contrast to the icy shivers of her own. At last it was over and they were back outside. Cameras flashed, the bright light bursting through her bubble and leaving her feeling intensely raw and vulnerable. Where before everything had slid distantly by her, now she was acutely aware of her surroundings; of the good humour of the guests, so much at odds with her own feelings; and most of all of Chase, tall and distinguished at her side, smiling as he responded to people’s good-natured teasing. A tall dark woman who looked oddly familiar detached herself from a family group and came forward.
‘My sister Helena,’ Chase introduced blandly.
‘I suppose the reason we never got to meet her before today was that you didn’t want to put her off,’ Helena joked, smiling down at Somer. She was tall with Chase’s features cast in much softer mould, but her eyes were blue instead of green. Even so, Somer felt herself withdrawing slightly from her, frightened of what she might read in her eyes. ‘Has he told you yet?’ she asked with a smile.
‘Told me?’ Involuntarily Somer’s eyes widened, her face turning queryingly up to Chase’s.
Helena grinned gleefully. ‘Have a look over there,’ she invited Somer, waving her hand in the direction of the group she had just left.
Weakly Somer did so, she saw a pleasant-looking sandy-haired man in his late thirties and…her eyes widened fractionally as she saw two sets of identical faces, all of them bearing a strong resemblance to Chase and Helena, although one pair had sandy hair and the other brown.
‘It runs in the family,’ Helena told her succinctly. ‘Our parents were warned and stopped at one pair of twins. John and I thought we could beat the odds, and ended up with two; Chase always used to say he wanted to go for the treble.’
‘You two are twins?’
Helena looked at her brother in grinning appreciation. ‘Ah…ha, so you didn’t tell her. Didn’t want to give her the opportunity to back out, I suppose. There’ve been twins in our family for the last five generations,’ she told Somer with a grin, adding with relish, ‘and so far no one’s escaped. I wonder what you’re going to get—mixed doubles or a matching pair?’