Substitute Bride

by Margaret Pargeter

  It was a glorious morning, the scenery looking so crisp and fresh as to be good enough to eat. Emma, for once, failed to notice, although she was subconsciously aware of the reviving quality of the air as she gulped down great mouthfuls of it. Feeling ill, she wandered dejectedly, blindly watching the huge rollers, the gaily coloured birds. She tried not to think of yesterday, when she had gone sailing with Dan and Rick.

  If only Rick hadn't made love to her. Or pretended, this morning, his feelings towards her were changing. He must have decided that this was the only way to keep her calm until after he had gone. Yet she couldn't conceive anyone acting so cruelly. Eventually she gave up trying to make sense of it and, her small face bleak with unhappiness, she returned to the house. It was after twelve. Perhaps by now everyone would be gone. Feverishly she hoped so. If not, then she must pretend she didn't care. There was no other way.

  She went into the lounge just a few minutes before Rick arrived. Puzzled to find the two girls still there, Emma kept her face blank. It wasn't easy, but she managed. Both Veronica and Gail had drinks in their hands, but while Gail merely looked bored and indifferent, Veronica was obviously agitated.

  'Where on earth have you been?' she asked Emma angrily, when she came in alone.

  Emma, feeling startled by Veronica's unconcealed anger, wondered in some bewilderment if her absence had something to do with them still being here. Had Rick, with his fondness for watching her squirm, insisted on waiting to say goodbye? 'I've been down on the beach,' she said. 'Have you been looking for me?'

  Contemptuously Veronica shook her head. 'Have you seen anything of Rick?' she demanded.

  'Not since earlier this morning,' Emma replied stoically, thinking it better to keep her sentences short, for fear she broke down—or said something she might regret.

  Gail glanced curiously at Veronica's disturbed face. 'Josephine says we're going home, Veronica. Rick left orders that we were to be ready to leave.'

  Veronica glared at her. 'You don't have to keep repeating it! I'll be glad to leave, providing Rick's coming too. I hate this damned island anyway.'

  'I'm not going anywhere,' Rick's drawling voice came from the doorway, spinning them all around. 'Wherever did you get that idea from, Veronica?'

  As Emma stared at him blankly, she heard Veronica exclaim triumphantly, 'You ought to sack that old bag in the kitchen, darling. I knew she was just talking through her hat!'

  'No, she wasn't,' Rick snapped coldly. Ignoring Veronica, he crossed to Emma's side, frowning down on her pale face. 'I don't know what's been going on, Emma, but I hope you haven't been alarmed.'

  Aware that Rick's solicitude wasn't pleasing Veronica, Emma shook her head. Despite the gentleness in Rick's voice she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He said he wasn't going, but everything that had happened this morning seemed to contradict him. Was he, for some reason, trying to deceive both herself and Veronica?

  She was startled to find his arm going around her as he spoke to Veronica and his sister. 'I've spent the morning arranging things with Larry Turner. There's been a lot to get through, it took longer than I thought it would. To cut a long story short, he's going to Barbados on three weeks' leave. You two are going back with him while Emma and I remain here.'

  'You and Emma!' Veronica's voice was suddenly incredulous. 'But why, Rick? You can't be serious?'

  'Why not?' He was coldly arrogant. 'We do happen to be married.'

  'But what about me?' Veronica asked shrilly. 'You've led me to expect…'

  'What?' he prompted, his eyes narrowing scornfully, while the arm around Emma tightened. 'I can't think of even one occasion when I might have led you to expect anything, Veronica.'

  'Maybe not,' she was forced to agree, 'but I thought— well, everyone did, even when you were engaged to that other girl—that you really loved me.' Her voice rose belligerently. 'Rita was sure of it!'

  'People are apt to see only what they want to see, and half the time they aren't even sure what that is,' Rick rejoined dryly. As she opened her mouth to protest, he continued levelly, 'We understand each other well enough, Veronica. We've certainly never had an affair— or even pretended to care for each other.'

  'Well, you can't care for her!' Veronica's face, as she glared at Emma, was ugly with hatred and fury. She couldn't stand being spurned, especially in public, and never appreciated the truth. If Rick hadn't held Emma so closely, her fury was such that it was clear to all she would liked to have clawed her apart. 'You just can't care for that low creature!' she gasped.

  'I see no point in continuing this discussion,' he snapped, with a coldness which appeared to take the last of Veronica's self-control.

  'You're a liar!' she shrieked. 'Rick, how can you stay with her when you don't even trust her? You might be infatuated, but you once told me you didn't believe in love without trust. You said so yourself.'

  Rick's voice hardened and his eyes contained ice. 'I presume you're referring to the time when your brother saw himself stepping into my shoes? That episode is over and done with, and you won't mention it again,'

  Far from shutting her up, as he obviously intended, Rick's contempt only appeared to goad Veronica to greater lengths. 'I had only to whisper in your ear, the evening you returned from Canada, that Emma was in the garden with Miles, for you to look absolutely murderous. You believed the worst straight away. Then,' she rushed on furiously, as Rick turned pale, 'later, upstairs, you believed she'd accepted a valuable bracelet from Miles.'

  'How did you know that?' Rick's deceptively even tones didn't fool Emma. She sensed his mounting anger and shivered. Veronica must have been vaguely aware of it too, as she faltered, not replying to Rick's question. After a brief moment he went on, 'Okay, Veronica, although I hope never to see you again, you do have a point. It's nothing, however, that Emma and I can't sort out. Now Dan is waiting to take you to the jetty. I don't want to throw you out, but would you please leave while we say goodbye to Gail?'

  'That bracelet—' Veronica's brief silence was short-lived. Emma could see that Rick's abrupt dismissal had enraged her further and she was resolved not to leave until he heard everything she had to say. 'That bracelet,' she reiterated sharply. 'Didn't you ever discover it was I who put it in Emma's room? You threw it back at Miles and nearly killed him, and you threw your precious Emma out because you believed she was having an affair with him. You thought she'd hidden the bracelet in her drawer while all the time it was I who'd put it there.'

  Rick's voice was terse with fury. 'You—My God!'

  'Yes!' Veronica assured him defiantly. 'And I managed to be outside her bedroom door when you found it and accused her of accepting presents from her lover. If you'd loved her you wouldn't have doubted when she tried to tell you she was innocent. You would have realised, as well, that she's too besotted with you to see any other man.'

  Rick's voice softened but, to Emma's ears, seemed all the more deadly for that. 'I could break your neck, Veronica. Or worse!'

  Emma didn't wait to hear more. Tearing herself from Rick's arms, she took no notice of his terse exclamation as she ran from the room. Through a blur she saw Veronica throw herself hysterically in his path as he made to follow her. She could only feel thankful that something had stopped him.

  She had several minutes' start and made for the southern shore of the island, where there were many hidden coves. These she had discovered on one of her many lonely rambles, before Rick came. She didn't really imagine he would rush after her—not after he'd had a moment to cool down. Then, when he realised the truth of what Veronica had been saying, he might leave with her. If he didn't—Emma sighed; well, at least she would have time to pull herself together and decide what to do. Sometimes the island fishermen left their boats unattended. She might escape Rick forever if she could find one of those.

  Emma, being young and supple, ran swiftly, a fury of despair driving her on. Veronica was right: Rick had never trusted her. He had only pretended he cared for her. He had obvious
ly developed, as men sometimes did for a woman, a fleeting lust for her, but once this had been assuaged he would have cast her out—as he had done all the others. Bitterly she ran on while reflecting on this, tears streaming down her hot cheeks.

  Eventually arriving at a cove which she considered sufficiently hidden, she threw herself down exhausted in some long grass. She must have cried herself to sleep, and when she woke she was stiff and sore and her bed of grass wasn't so comfortable any more.

  Frowning, she lay staring up at the sky. Unhappily, as her first surge of indignation died down, she knew she must go back to the house. Escaping in a fishing boat was not for her. Wryly she sighed over her own foolishness. She couldn't, however, contemplate facing Rick yet. Despondently she wondered what she would find to say to him, if he was still on the island. Instead of thinking things out she had simply gone to sleep. Now she felt angry for having wasted so much time.

  Hazily her mind clouded again as her thoughts returned painfully to the amazing conversation between Rick and Veronica. What a crazy sequence of events had been uncovered! Veronica must indeed have been crazy to have acted as she had done. But at least she had revealed Rick's weak spot, a flaw in his character, his lack of trust.

  Yet—Emma paused uncertainly, as she scrubbed away another flood of tears. In his shoes, what would she have done? Hadn't she suspected him of having an affair with Veronica when apparently he had not? With both Rick and herself, mightn't it have been a case, not so much of lack of trust as lack of faith in their own ability to hold on to something precious? If she had found something belonging to another girl—no, an expensive present from another girl in Rick's room—might not she, too, have jumped to the wrong conclusions? Rick had been very angry about Miles's bracelet, but she realised now that he had had every reason to be, for hadn't the planted evidence been very convincing?

  Feeling suddenly very small and humble, Emma rose to her feet and began walking quickly back the way she had come. If Rick was still on the island she must find him and apologise for running away. There were other things she must apologise for too, if he would listen. That he mightn't be prepared to frightened her and caused her feet to stumble.

  Such was her state of nervous uncertainty that she felt like turning and running again when she saw Rick coming towards her. He was riding a horse. So was Dan, who was following him. When Rick spotted her he exchanged a quick word with Dan who immediately rode off in another direction.

  Cantering up to her, Rick slid to the ground. He looked grim and tense as he let go of his reins to grasp Emma's shoulders. He was still wearing the thin shirt and cotton trousers he had had on before lunch and the tall strength of his body seemed like a haven after a storm.

  He was pale, Emma noticed, but otherwise appeared to be exercising a tight self-control. It was hard to tell whether he was angry or not. She sensed he was concerned, but then he was the kind of man who might worry over the least of his huge work-force, should one of them become missing.

  When it did come, his voice was as grim as his face. 'Where on earth have you been, Emma? I was beginning to think you must have met with an accident!'

  She found it difficult to meet the blaze of anger in his eyes. Scuffing her toe in the sand, she bent her head miserably. 'I'm sorry.'

  A muscle jerked at the side of Rick's mouth. 'God— you just seemed to disappear!'

  Swallowing a lump in her throat, she asked inadequately, 'Where are the others?'

  'If you mean Gail and Larry, they're on their way back to Barbados with Veronica.'

  'Veronica?'

  'Don't talk about her, Emma, please.'

  Hearing the contempt in her voice, she made no further attempt to. 'Why was Dan with you?' she asked instead.

  'We organised a search party when I failed to find you. I couldn't take any chances.'

  Emma swayed, as remorse and reaction hit her badly. 'I'm sorry, Rick. I know I shouldn't have ran off as I did, but it has helped to clear my—my head.'

  'I wish it had done me as much good,' he snapped. 'I've been half out of my mind looking for you, but I'm not altogether convinced it's done you much good either. You look about ready to drop.'

  'I'm quite all right, Rick, really.' But before she could say anything more he had tossed her on the horse and swung himself up behind her.

  'Home, my girl,' he commanded, 'and a hot bath. Then we'll talk, and there won't be any putting off this time.'

  'I've slept,' she protested weakly.

  'In sand and grass and tears,' he retorted grimly, his arms tightening until flames began licking through her. 'I've rarely seen your face so white, but that's something I hope to alter.'

  Josephine had a hot bath already run, for Dan had raced back and told her Emma had been found. She was anxious to see to Emma herself, but Rick dismissed her. He told her to leave their dinner and go home. Suddenly Josephine was all smiles as she bade them both goodnight.

  She had laid a cold buffet in the dining-room. There was only the soup to heat and coffee to make, she said innocently, if they ever got down again.

  Rick tested the water, himself, before ordering Emma to get undressed and get in. He was so grim that she understood, without him having to put it in words, that if she didn't obey immediately he would do it for her. She heard the shower running next door and when, ten minutes later, she went into the bedroom, she found him there, waiting for her.

  They were both wearing short robes. 'We should be getting dressed, shouldn't we?' she faltered, suddenly self-conscious.

  'Come here,' he said, so forcibly that she dared not disobey.

  He was sitting on the side of the bed and as she approached he jerked her down beside him. 'You wanted to talk, Rick,' she reminded him hastily, as something in his eyes almost stopped her breath.

  'Later, honey.' He pulled her against him with a sudden urgency which made her tremble as his mouth sought hers with demanding pressure. As his hand cupped her chin she was unable to move. Heat flooded them both and he pushed her back on the bed, his hard body pinning hers down. Fiercely he continued kissing her while she sighed against his lips and pressed helplessly closer.

  'I want you so damn much,' he groaned, his eyes aflame as his gaze flickered over her parted robe, and her fingertips explored the roughness of his broad chest. 'I'm not sure I could think straight, let alone talk sensibly about anything.'

  Emma had no desire to talk herself. In only moments Rick had aroused her to incredible heights, and she was taking an intense pleasure in her own tentative discoveries. When he had made love to her before she had barely been allowed time. Now it was different—or so she thought, until his mouth closed passionately over hers and her heart leaped wildly in response.

  'Rick…' she faltered, as he gasped, 'please think clearly about this. I couldn't bear it if you left me again afterwards. After you'd gone, last time, you don't know how I felt…'

  'You mean the first time?' Tenderly he withdrew a little, his hand caressing her hot cheeks. Gently he thrust the heavy hair off her face, so he might see her better. 'My little love, you must have guessed why I didn't touch you again. I thought—and you let me believe—you were experienced, and I was way beyond stopping when I realised I was the first. Heaven help me, I tried, but it was no use. I'd never been at the mercy of my emotions like that before!' He paused, sighing ruefully. 'Sweetheart, you affect me worse than strong drink.' Then, the teasing curve of his mouth straightening bleakly, he met her suddenly shy eyes. 'I almost went out of my mind. I had to leave you. Why did you let me believe you were Oliver's girl, when you must have known what kind of girl that made you? If I'd had any idea you were absolutely innocent I'd never have married you.'

  'That was why I didn't tell you, Rick,' she whispered. 'I wanted to escape from the farm and that seemed the only chance I was likely to get. If I'd told you I'd never even been out with a man before, you wouldn't have taken me away. I had to make a quick decision, but I felt fairly safe when you said it would just be a
marriage of convenience. I didn't count on falling in love with you, though.'

  His head jerked up. 'Say that again,' he demanded hoarsely. When she obliged, he said thickly, 'I've been a brute, darling. I don't deserve your love, but, for what it's worth, I love you, too. Desperately…'

  'I didn't want to love you,' she confessed, as his arms tightened about her half naked body. 'I tried to fight it.'

  His dark brows rose wryly. 'Not nearly so much as I did, I guess.'

  'I tried not to think of how I felt when you kissed me,' she murmured huskily.

  With a smothered exclamation he began kissing her again until within the circle of his arms she started to tremble with emotion and need. 'Oh, my love,' Rick muttered against her mouth, 'you weren't the only one. You made me angrier than I could ever remember being before. I often felt quite savage just looking at you. I thought that was behind the totally unreal sensations I felt when I kissed you. After my last visit to the' farm, during the whole of the ten days I was away, this strange anger, as I chose to call it, obsessed me to the exclusion of everything else. I hated even to think of Rex Oliver.'

  'You really were convinced he was my—my lover?'

  'I was,' Rick confessed. 'I'm afraid I never questioned what you and Blanche told me. I think I'd reached the age when I imagined I had few illusions left about women. I met Blanche and was momentarily attracted, but when I decided to marry her it was with my eyes wide open. I was aware that she loved me no more than I loved her. I wanted a son and heir while she wanted money. It seemed to me, after we'd supplied each other's needs, that we could go our separate ways without regret. Now I don't believe she would have supplied me with anything. But I was so arrogant that if she'd married me I believe I would have deserved everything I got.'

  His mouth quirked in self-derision. 'When I returned from Australia, expecting to find her meekly waiting for me, my male ego suffered a considerable blow on discovering she was in Paris with Oliver. I thought I'd found in you—such a plain little thing—the perfect means of revenge. But,' he groaned thickly against Emma's breast, 'even before we were married I was beginning to realise I'd had it. I was lost before I even started. You were able to make my pulse race in a way I'd never experienced with Blanche or any other woman.'