Hunter's Moon & Bedded for Revenge

by Carole Mortimer

  But once again this was something Jonas had told her was going to happen; he hadn’t actually asked for her opinion! Her mouth twisted mockingly. ‘This isn’t to be a complete rehearsal, then, with the bride and groom arriving separately?’

  Jonas met her gaze steadily. ‘If it were I would also be sharing your bed later tonight—and I have no intention of doing that!’

  Cassandra paled at the intended insult. Why did she bother trying to fence verbally with this man? She always lost! Although perhaps, in the circumstances, where of her going to see Peter without Jonas’s knowledge was concerned, perhaps she had got off lightly. For the moment…

  * * *

  Her mother and Godfrey were present at the rehearsal too, with Bethany bobbing about excitedly, wanting to know everything that was going on.

  It was a nightmare for Cassandra, this church blessing nothing like the cold formality of the register office ceremony which the registrar had taken them through briefly when they went to see him. The blessing was almost like the church ceremony, only a few of the words changed to allow for the fact that she and Jonas would already be married when they entered the church. The beautiful solemnity of the service brought home to Cassandra yet again exactly what she was taking on marrying a man whom she loved but who didn’t love her.

  In fact, she was in somewhat of a daze when the vicar came over to talk to them jovially after the rehearsal, a kindly man with twinkling blue eyes and snowy white hair, a man who would be totally shocked and dismayed if he were to know the truth behind this marriage!

  Jonas kept up a light conversation with the older man, although the tight hold he had of Cassandra’s arm told her he was well aware of just how close she was to panicking completely and dashing out of the church and away from this marriage—and damn the consequences!

  She couldn’t help the way she felt, just felt totally shaken by the whole thing, almost collapsing with relief once they were at last able to go, hardly aware of taking her leave of her family to get in the car beside Jonas, Bethany in the back.

  Jonas was grim-faced on that drive back to the house, and the harshness of his mood promised retribution once they were alone—which wasn’t long after they arrived back, Bethany being more than ready for her bed by this time, Jean absenting herself too once she had brought them a tray of coffee through to the sitting-room.

  ‘For God’s sake snap out of it,’ Jonas rasped as he glared down at Cassandra, hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets. ‘You’ve looked like a ghost ever since we entered the church!’ He scowled at the memory.

  She swallowed hard. ‘I’m just glad that part, at least, is over.’ Although what she was going to feel like on the actual wedding day, if she felt this ill after only the rehearsal, she dreaded to think!

  He gave a harsh snort. ‘I’m sure your mother will be even more pleased once the actual wedding is over!’

  ‘My mother…?’ Cassandra looked up at him sharply. ‘What on earth do you mean by that?’ It had been too sarcastically put not to have some sort of hidden meaning.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious, Cassandra?’ Jonas drawled mockingly. ‘Your mother obviously realises that once the two of us are married the family secret will be safely buried at last!’ he insisted scathingly.

  ‘Family secret…?’ Cassandra repeated again dazedly, starting to feel like a burbling idiot. But she didn’t understand—Oh, yes, she did; her cheeks coloured hotly. ‘I doubt very much my mother even knows about—about that!’ she told him heatedly.

  Good God, he was making it difficult, with his continued ridiculing of her father, for her not to tell him it had been his brother and not her father who had diverted that money! It was only the fact that Charles had also been her husband that kept her from angrily hurling the information at him.

  He raised dark brows, his tension having abated slightly now that he had succeeded in angering her, back in control of the situation again. ‘I had the impression your parents had quite a close marriage…?’

  ‘They did,’ she confirmed with a frown. ‘But what does that—?’ If they had that close a marriage her father would have told her mother what he had done. As Charles had confided in her. Eventually.

  Did her mother know the truth anyway? Did she, as Cassandra had so briefly suspected the night of her mother’s dinner party, know exactly what had happened to company funds?

  Her father had always discussed business with her mother when he got in from the office, and what Charles had done had affected them all, been so enormous that—Good God, did her mother know? Was that why she had thrust Joy at Jonas when he first came back to England, been so obviously disappointed when it became obvious he wasn’t interested in her, and then so relieved again when it turned out that Cassandra was to marry him instead? Was that why her mother had been so jumpy two weeks ago, so determined to draw Jonas into their family circle? Had she hoped he would be less inclined to take action if there was that bond? If that was the case, then it opened up all sorts of questions Cassandra would like answers to…!

  Jonas’s mouth twisted derisively. ‘You didn’t seriously think your mother was so pleased about our marriage because she actually approves of me?’ he taunted, shaking his head pitingly. ‘I’m the last thing she wants in a son-in-law.’

  And Charles—what had her mother thought of him as a son-in-law once she knew what he had done, how close to ruin he had brought the company? To her credit, her mother had said nothing, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t thought plenty of things!

  ‘Not after Golden Boy Charles,’ Jonas added scornfully.

  ‘For God’s sake stop calling him that!’ Cassandra snapped. ‘Are you so steeped in bitterness that you can’t see, for all their faults, your brother and your father loved you, that it was your mother who lied to you all these years—?’

  ‘I told you earlier to leave her out of this!’ he rasped angrily.

  ‘Why should I?’ she said exasperatedly. ‘Are you frightened to talk to your father, Jonas? Is that it—?’

  ‘I’m not frightened of anyone, least of all him!’ his voice rose furiously.

  ‘Then prove it,’ she challenged impatiently. ‘Go to your father, listen to what he has to say, and then, if you still feel the same way about him, fine. But don’t base what you’re saying to me on prejudices that are over twenty years old! As for Charles—’ she was breathing deeply in her agitation ‘—I know he isn’t completely blameless—’

  ‘That’s big of you!’ Jonas scorned sneeringly.

  ‘Oh, shut up, will you? Just shut up!’ She glared across at him. ‘It was Charles who was responsible for diverting company funds, not my father!’ It all came out in a rush now that she had finally found the courage to say it, although she fell into a stunned silence once the truth was out.

  There was a heavy silence from Jonas too after her outburst, a tension-filled few minutes when he looked at her as if she had gone completely mad. And then he spoke. ‘What the hell are you talking about, Cassandra?’ he demanded impatiently. ‘Of course it wasn’t Charles. He—’

  ‘But it was, Jonas,’ she insisted desperately; the last thing she had expected was that he wouldn’t believe her! ‘I let you go on thinking it was my father because—well, because—’

  ‘Cassandra, I can assure you I made sure of my facts before I even spoke to you on the subject—all my facts,’ he insisted gratingly. ‘And, I can assure you, Charles’s name was not on the relevant documents. But your father’s certainly was!’

  Cassandra had been on the point of tears, feeling as if she had betrayed Charles, but now she could only stare up at Jonas disbelievingly, knowing by the scathing expression on his face that he really believed what he was saying was the truth.

  What did it mean? How had her father’s name got on to those documents? Unless he had been the one responsible, after all…

  ‘What the hell are you hoping to achieve with this, Cassandra?’ Jonas challenged harshly now. ‘Your father was the one respons
ible; I can assure you of that. Who it was is actually irrelevant—the outcome is still the same: you are going to become my wife in four days’ time!’

  It wasn’t irrelevant to her. Why had Charles lied to her? Why?

  ‘And you had damn well better get used to the idea,’ Jonas added viciously, pulling her roughly to her feet before grinding his mouth down on hers. Cassandra was too numbed by this time to offer any sort of reaction at all, either for or against the onslaught.

  His expression was even more savage when he at last raised his head from hers. ‘There’s going to be no escape, Cassandra, no last-minute reprieve.’ His eyes glittered down at her. ‘You will be my wife!’ He thrust her away from him before striding out of the room and then out of the house, the front door closing with controlled violence behind him.

  Cassandra didn’t move from the spot where he had left her, couldn’t move, not even if her life had depended upon it. And in a way it did, because if she couldn’t convince Jonas that she had thought she was telling him the truth just now about Charles and her father, then her life as his wife was going to be a living nightmare!

  CHAPTER TEN

  HER mother looked surprised to see her, but her reaction was understandable in the circumstances; Cassandra had given no indication when they parted earlier that she intended visiting her later this evening. And it was late, after ten. But Cassandra knew she had to see her mother tonight, that this couldn’t wait until morning.

  She had sat at home in stunned dismay long after Jonas had left so abruptly, going over and over in her mind what he had told her. It was her father, after all, not Charles. It was her father, after all, not Charles. No matter how many times she chased the thoughts round and round in her head, she still came back to that basic fact. And Jonas was so sure, so very sure of this being the correct version that there was no way she could doubt it any more.

  After agonising over why Charles should have told her it had been him and not her father who had been involved, she could come up with only one solution: his own weaknesses aside—or because of them!—Charles had wanted to spare her the painful disillusionment of learning that her dead father, the father she had openly adored, had left things in such a mess. Charles couldn’t have guessed he would be dead himself within two months of the older man’s death, the problem unresolved.

  Then she had sat and cried for the depth of Charles’s caring, knowing it had to have been his way of making up for his own inadequacies during their marriage, inadequacies he had been just too lazy, or incapable, of doing anything about…

  But once the tears had finally ceased she had realised that Jonas had to be right about her mother too—that she had to have known the truth all along. And this visit Cassandra was paying to her now was long overdue!

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Her mother put aside the book she had been reading to stand up, her expression anxious. ‘Bethany…?’

  ‘She’s safely tucked up in bed asleep, and Jean is listening out for her,’ Cassandra easily assured her, her gaze fixed steadily on her mother as she took the time to remove her coat and gloves and throw them over the back of a chair; she had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a quick visit.

  Marguerite looked relieved at hearing Bethany was all right, although she still looked puzzled, starting to shift uncomfortably under the steadiness of Cassandra’s gaze. ‘What is it, Cassandra?’ she finally snapped irritably. ‘You and Jonas haven’t rowed again, have you?’

  Was it her imagination, or had her mother’s anxiety returned at this suggestion? No, she was sure she hadn’t imagined that little flicker of alarm in her mother’s eyes, her sudden tension, at the thought of an alienated Jonas.

  ‘No, Jonas and I haven’t argued,’ she told her wearily. ‘No more than usual, anyway,’ she added drily; after all, tonight was far from the first time Jonas had stormed out in a temper. But he would be back; she didn’t doubt that. He had to be. He had meant it when he told her she would become his wife in four days’ time.

  ‘You and Jonas do seem to have rather a—tempestuous relationship,’ her mother acknowledged ruefully. ‘But some people do, of course, and it seems to work out well for them. So I shouldn’t worry too much—’

  ‘Mother, stop burbling,’ Cassandra cut in calmly. ‘Jonas wants to marry me only because he wants the shares in the company Daddy left me, and control over the ones Charles left Bethany,’ she told her mother bluntly. ‘Whether our marriage works or not will be completely irrelevant to the arrangement, so I can assure you I’m not worrying about that part of things at all!’

  Her mother’s gasp of astonishment seemed genuine enough. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about this, Cassandra—’

  ‘I’m not,’ she returned tautly, dropping down into one of the armchairs. ‘You may as well sit down too, Mother,’ she advised softly. ‘We have a lot to talk about, and we may as well be comfortable while we do it. Sit down, Mother!’ she repeated sharply when Marguerite didn’t attempt to move.

  Blue eyes widened indignantly, but, for all that, this time her mother sat. ‘I must say, Cassandra—’ she straightened her skirt with agitated movements ‘—that I’m not particularly happy with the way you’re talking to me this evening!’

  Her mouth twisted wryly. ‘I’ve been taking lessons from Jonas,’ she dismissed drily.

  ‘A certain amount of forcefulness can be an attractive trait in a man,’ her mother told her primly. ‘But in a woman it’s just not—’

  ‘You’re burbling again, Mother,’ Cassandra told her with raised brows. ‘Which is most unattractive in a man or a woman!’

  Delicate colour darkened cheeks already tinted with blusher. ‘After that slightly rebellious time in your teens when you were so determined over what you were going to do with your life, I had thought you had become my quieter, more respectful daughter,’ her mother began in a reproving voice—obviously striving to regain some control of this conversation at least!

  Cassandra wasn’t in the least cowed by the rebuke, her eyes narrowed. ‘Is that why you were so relieved when Jonas passed over Joy and decided to marry me instead?’ she challenged softly. ‘Because you believed I would be the more compliant—?’

  ‘Cassandra, have you been drinking?’ Her mother frowned.

  ‘I only wish I had!’ she said self-derisively. ‘Maybe then none of this would matter to me. You didn’t answer my question, Mother.’ She wasn’t blind to the way her mother had tried to change the subject. ‘Did you think I would be more compliant than Joy would ever have been, once the truth came out?’

  Her mother’s cheeks lost all colour beneath the blusher now, giving her face a peculiar clownish appearance. ‘The truth, Cassandra?’ She gave a lightly puzzled laugh—that even to her own ears couldn’t have been the success she had wanted! ‘What are you talking about? I don’t think I’m the one burbling, dear—’

  ‘Don’t patronise me, Mother,’ Cassandra cut in sharply, anger hardening her voice now. ‘What happened? Did Charles come to you and Daddy and tell you he knew about Daddy’s transfer of company funds, and then when Daddy died you persuaded Charles not to reveal it had been Daddy who—?’

  ‘That isn’t the way it happened at all!’ her mother defended heatedly, sitting forward tensely on the edge of her seat. ‘It was Charles’s idea not to—’ She broke off abruptly as she saw by Cassandra’s triumphant expression that she had fallen into the trap that had been set for her. ‘That wasn’t fair, Cassandra,’ she said shakily.

  Cassandra drew in a ragged breath, shaken now at having her worst fears confirmed. ‘No,’ she acknowledged with a sigh, feeling almost sorry for her mother now as she looked all of her fifty-two years, her beautiful face ravaged and suddenly old. ‘But were you really being fair to me when you didn’t come to me and tell me the truth once Charles had died?’ she prompted huskily.

  ‘Oh, God, Cassandra, I didn’t know what to do, where to turn!’ Her mother crumpled completely now. ‘The last ten months have been a nightma
re,’ she shook her head, breathing deeply, ‘wondering if Jonas was going to find out what had happened!’

  ‘Was there ever a possibility that he wouldn’t, once we came to know him?’ she sighed.

  ‘No, I suppose not. But I hoped—’

  ‘Me too.’ Cassandra gave a rueful nod. ‘But don’t you think these last ten months might have been less of a nightmare if we could have faced them together, shown a united front instead of keeping it all to ourselves?’ But she knew why her mother couldn’t come to her, knew it had to do with what seemed to have been a lifetime problem—that of her mother just not being able to understand her, or know how she was going to react to certain things; she had just never been able to get close to Cassandra in the way she was to her youngest daughter, Joy being a much more open person, whether you liked that openness or not.

  ‘You don’t understand just how much of a nightmare it’s been for me.’ Her mother put up a shaking hand to her brow. ‘Godfrey has been pressing me to marry him,’ she explained at Cassandra’s questioning look. ‘And, God help me, things have felt so desperate, I almost considered it!’

  If there could be any humour in this situation then this statement—poor Godfrey!—would have been it! But there was nothing in the least amusing about any of this. ‘How convenient for you, when it turned out I’m to be the sacrifice instead of you—to Jonas!’ Cassandra snapped, her eyes flashing deep golden.

  ‘I only meant—’ Her mother broke off abruptly as the doorbell rang once again, and she frowned her puzzlement at this second late-night caller. ‘Who on earth could that be this time of night…? Unless Joy has forgotten her key again.’ She sighed wearily at her youngest daughter’s thoughtlessness. ‘Cassandra, I would rather we didn’t discuss any of this in front of Joy—’