Totally unaware of the existence of any child, let alone a handicapped one, the press were at first delighted by this beautiful little girl and took endless photos as the women among them tried to talk to her. Panic-stricken, Jessica began to scream. Then she spun round and round, chanting, 'Bloody hell! Bloody hell!' at the top of her voice before noticing that she was still trapped. Driven to absolute frenzy by the noise and the flashlights she ran to the nearest puddle, threw herself down in it, splashed the water around and began to strip. Then, entirely nude and covered in filthy rainwater, she started laughing madly.
By the time Nurse Anthony got to her it was too late and the following day it was Jessica's photograph that was on the front of several of the tabloids, along with so-called expert's guesses on what was the matter with her and whether her behaviour had been caused by maternal neglect due to Lisa's active social life.
Stunned by the cruelty of the allegations, she rang Neal at home. She expected understanding and support; instead she got a tirade of abuse directed at her and Janice, and when she became tearful he shouted at her to shut up before finally promising to call in before he began work.
When he arrived he had himself under better control, but the sight of the photographers and the reality of Jessica climbing on to the mantelpiece and diving headlong off it onto the floor, stimulated a fresh outburst. 'I won't have it!' he shouted at a shaking Lisa. 'Look at her! She's like an animal. I thought you were providing structured discipline?' he continued, turning his fury on Janice.
'She doesn't understand about social behaviour, sir.'
'Then she damned well isn't going to live in society until she does! Lisa, this has to stop. I know you wanted her to, stay here but it's out of the question now the press has found her. She has to go into a home. I'll find a good one and we'll take her there ourselves.'
'I don't want her in a home! I've told you and told you that. She'll regress without proper care.'
'YOU think she can get worse than this?'
Lisa's head was pounding. The baby she was carrying seemed suddenly to have doubled its weight and she was no longer able to pretend she wasn't pregnant. 'Don't talk about her like that! I thought you understood.'
'The only thing I understand is that she's caused enough gossip to ruin our wedding day. One of my P.R. men will issue a statement explaining that she's autistic and has been awaiting a vacancy in a special home. He'll stress how hard you've tried to keep her with you but add that in view of the forthcoming child… '
'I didn't think we were going to mention that.'
'Jessica's forced me to change my plans. I think an unborn baby will provide a very legitimate reason for her going away without its reflecting badly on us. If you could manage a few tears when we take her, so much the better.'
' You bastard!' she screamed, picking up one of the Meissen figures and hurling it at his head. 'This isn't some Walt Disney weepie, you know, this is Jessica's life we're talking about. How dare you suggest that I cry to order? What kind of a man are you anyway? Autism isn't leprosy. She isn't contagious or dangerous, she's just a very bewildered little girl who can't cope with real life.'
'Which is why she has to be removed from it. Look, darling,' his voice softened. 'I know what this must be like for you but do you really want her turned into some kind of freak show? That's what would happen, you know. The Press never give up. They'll keep people hanging around here, hoping for a dramatic picture of a tantrum or panic. Don't you think it's kinder to let her go and live with other children who are like her?'
'No, I don't. Anyway, it isn't easy to find places for autistic children.'
'I don't think I'll find that a problem.' 'I want her to stay here.'
'I thought you wanted to marry me.' His voice was dangerously low.
'I do.'
'Then I think you might consider me a little.'
'She isn't your child. Why should her behaviour reflect on you?' 'You're her mother, you're also carrying my child. They might wonder at my choice.'
'Well, bloody well let them! If that's what's worrying you, don't bother marrying me. If you're so worried about what the gutter press have to say…'
'I am marrying you and that child is going into a home.' Lisa had never heard him use that tone of voice before and she felt a flicker of fear, especially when she saw the set of his features and the total absence of feeling in his eyes. 'Now get some things together and I'll take you to the Grosvenor House. You were meant to go there last night. We'll return for Jessica as soon as I've made suitable arrangements for her, but I think it's better if you make the initial break now.'
'Let me stay until she has to leave!'
'You're getting far too upset. It's bad for the baby.'
'I'm not!' she shouted, and promptly burst into tears. Unlike Renato Bellini, Neal didn't attempt to comfort her. Instead he issued instructions to the nurse before standing by the door, watching his future wife sob uncontrollably.
When Janice came back with an overnight case, Lisa felt as though her chest was going to burst from the force of the emotion she was feeling but she swallowed hard and walked over to Jessica, trying to kiss the rigid little figure goodbye. Jessica turned her head away and put out both hands as though to ward her mother off.
'It isn't for long,' whispered Lisa. 'I'm only going now so that I can give you a real chance later on.' She didn't think for one moment that Jessica understood; she only hoped that the tone of her voice would offer some reassurance.
'Let's go,' said Neal, glancing quickly outside to make sure Bishop had kept the mews clear of newsmen. Lisa kissed Janice, whose eyes were also full of tears, and then quickly walked out of the cottage.
'It really is for the best, darling,' Neal assured her as they drove through London. 'I had to be firm for your own good.'
'That's all right,' said Lisa calmly. 'After all, it isn't for long.' 'What do you mean?'
'You gave me your word that she could come home once we had a son, remember?'
'I don't think… '
'Yes you did, Neal. I've told a lot of people about your generous offer. They all think you're wonderful,' she lied.
His face relaxed slightly. 'Of course! The upstairs floor, wasn't it?' 'That's right.'
'Now,' he said softly, putting an arm round her shoulders. 'Now we'd better start talking about our wedding plans.'
They were married, just as Bellini had predicted, at Chelsea Register Office, followed by a blessing at Chelsea Old Church. At the Claridges reception the guests drifted around, the elegant Chanel, Dior and St Laurent dresses competing with the bold Bruce Oldfields, Emanuels and Anouska Hempels.
The women were so busy smiling their practised smiles, heads lifted and tilted at the most becoming angles, that none of them even realised the bride and groom were no longer there. The men, less plastic then their wives or mistresses because in men of their social standing signs of maturity were both necessary and attractive, being mistakenly taken for indications of intelligence and wealth, did notice; they envied the groom. Naturally none of them voiced their envy for fear their comments might get back to him.
Lisa lay naked on the vast circular bed of their suite and watched her husband undressing, noticing with frightening detachment that his body was still firm and well-muscled, aided by regular sessions in a gymnasium. He looked at least twelve years younger than his fifty-four.
As he moved naked towards the bed she felt one brief moment of panic, acutely aware that now there could be no going back. She was committed to this man, literally until death. Death. Naomi. Kay. The words and images ran together in her mind and her panic increased. Only when he lay beside her, twisting her round to face him, did the panic ease. Slowly he closed one hand over her left breast. His thumb rotated lightly round the nipple while his other hand strayed down his wife's rib cage, over her hip bones and then gently but insistently between her thighs.
As he lowered his mouth to her right breast and grazed his teeth across the sw
ollen and sensitive surface, Lisa wondered if she would ever learn to respond to him as he deserved. The touch of his thumb on her nipple was beginning to irritate her and when she did open herself to his hand she knew that she was dry and totally unaroused.
Naturally Neal knew too, but he had anticipated his wife's usual inability to relax during lovemaking and was confident that in time she would allow herself pleasure again. Until she did he would make the best of the situation. After all, she was his and that was what he'd wanted. That and an heir.
He began to kiss her throat and ears, his tongue insistently probing and licking around the most sensitive areas until he felt her begin to move, her body gradually becoming more restless on the silk sheets. His right hand tightened on her breasts, but that was a mistake and she stiffened. At once he loosened his grip. There were so many things he couldn't do; so many things that still brought panic into her eyes, that sometimes he despaired of ever getting it right.
Lisa, her eyes wide open and her body refusing to relax, wished that he'd get on with it. She didn't mind that her pleasure was only slight. He was the one who had the right to physical satisfaction. That had been part of the bargain. Unspoken, and left out of the long, complicated prenuptial agreement but clearly understood. She shifted her body, trying to indicate that he should enter her.
Neal felt a twinge of irritation. This was their wedding day. He could get nonreciprocating satisfaction from numerous women, and for years had been getting it from his late wife. He didn't want to repeat that pattern today of all days.
Finally he moved, his mouth traveling the length of her body until
his tongue moved expertly between her parted legs. Lisa moved up the bed, her hands trying to push him away, but he ignored her. He thought that once he'd begun she would relax, become moist and receptive so that he felt less like an unwelcome intruder into her body. Her eyes now shut, Lisa felt the rough dampness of his tongue as it began its invasion. Once she had enjoyed it when Toby did this for her. Once she had been totally abandoned to such pleasure. Once. A long time ago.
Then she felt a slight tingle beginning deep inside her, an increasing tightness, a sense of something building within her, and her husband—sensing it too—circled his tongue carefully around her clitoris before drawing the swollen bud into his mouth.
She had never been so wet for him before and to his dismay he realised that her arousal could prove his undoing. Just as Lisa's hips began to twitch of their own volition, he slid reluctantly up her body and entered her. Her eyes were widening in shock but then she realised that it was nearly over and closed them so that she couldn't see her husband's face when he finally spilled his seed into her. She couldn't bear to see the triumph in his eyes, nor face the knowledge that for a moment he had almost brought her to her first climax since…
With a groan, he covered her mouth with his and it was over. She was glad, she told herself fiercely. She didn't want physical passion any more. Especially not from this strange, decidedly business-like marriage where the list of advantages she could expect had never been intended to include sexual satisfaction.
She continued to lie there, her thoughts drifting away to the past and all the events that had led up to this moment. As Neal swung himself out of bed and began dressing again, she sighed softly. She was loved, protected and rich yet she sighed, and Neal—who understood everyone better than they understood themselves—committed it to memory.
At last Lisa sat up. 'I'm starving!' she laughed, shaking off the melancholy mood that had threatened moments before. 'If I go down and devour everything in sight, will they guess what we've been doing?'
'Possibly.'
'Does it matter?' It was a purely rhetorical question.
'Not really,' he said slowly, watching as she stepped into the tiny satin briefs that were the only kind it was possible for her to wear at present.
'Don't look, I know I'm huge!' she protested.
Her movements were languid, her skin pale yet glowing, and he could have taken her again if there'd been time but consoled himself with the thought that from now on she was his whenever he wanted. Lisa finished doing up her cream silk dress, cleverly designed by Carol to conceal her condition, and stared blindly out of the window, suddenly remembering her daughter. Poor little Jessica, trapped eternally in her nightmare world, surrounded by excellent nurses, lacking for nothing except acceptance. Acceptance and unlimited, undiscriminating love. At the moment. But soon, if fate was kind, all that would be changed. 'Lisa?'
She turned to face him, her eyes shadowed.
'It 's time to go down,' he said kindly. Together they walked along the heavily carpeted corridor, her arm linked through his. They paused in the doorway and immediately Lisa's eye was caught by Renato Bellini, standing alone at the bar.
She looked at his mass of wavy greying hair, the surprisingly sensitive mouth and wide-apart soft brown eyes that might have weakened his face were it not for the heavy lids that added to the overall impression of an intelligent and determined sensualist. She felt a terrible desire to weep.
He murmured a greeting as they approached, taking her hand, raising it to his lips before brushing his tongue against the sensitive skin. Blushing, she withdrew it. Fortunately Neal hadn't noticed and the two men began conversing in rapid Italian.
Suddenly weary, Lisa sat on a stool and glanced around the room. She saw her two eldest step-daughters standing talking to Bishop, and gave a shudder. There was danger there. Her eyes moved on. So many men and women. Laughing; talking of nothing; flirting; quarreling—they filled the air with the sound of their voices. And Toby! Unbelievably, she noticed him, standing with a new wife but watching her steadily, with an almost desperate message in his eyes that she couldn't begin to understand.
Suddenly Bellini spoke directly to her, his expression unfathomable. Neal laughed and started to lead her away from the bar. The Italian repeated his remark and despite the pressure of her husband's hand, Lisa turned back to him. 'I'm afraid I don't speak Italian.' She hoped she sounded sufficiently remote .
He smiled, but not pleasantly, his eyes glittering. 'I wished you a son.'
She laughed nervously. 'Thank you. I wish for one as well.'
An elderly woman began speaking to Neal and Renato moved surprisingly quickly to her side. 'Should it be a girl, I wish you luck,' he continued, the smile never wavering, his eyes holding hers. 'A girl would after all make everything a very expensive mistake, and your husband cannot afford more mistakes.'
'Stop it!' she hissed. 'You were the one who told me I was doing the right thing.'
'Maybe I made a mistake,' he murmured, and she shivered. 'Darling, it's time to cut the cake,' said Neal, unaware of the small interlude that had just taken place. She went smiling to his side, hoping that it would soon be over and they could leave the crowded room that was already making her feel queasy and faint. Neal, noticing her pallor, made sure that they left as soon as was acceptable. Until the child was born, he intended to take very good care of her.
Chapter Nineteen
'How did the wedding go?' asked Gemma Kingston. Renato Bellini shrugged elegantly. 'Well enough. He's married and he believes that he has an heir on the way. He was naturally at his most charming.'
She slid naked from the bed and knelt down in front of her lover, deftly releasing him from his clothing and closing her small, skilful mouth round his rapidly hardening organ.
'She is unusual—his wife,' he added, seemingly oblivious of her dexterity. Gemma swirled her tongue round the sensitive ridge at the top and his hands reached down and caught hold of her auburn hair. 'Very beautiful, but not what I would call particularly sophisticated. She intrigues me.'
Gemma wished he'd stop talking. She felt rather ridiculous. Like a professional masseuse or worse. Yet this was one of the few times when she could normally count on having his full attention. She moved her mouth more rapidly, applying suction. Renato caught his breath, closed his eyes and gave himself over to the
pleasure.
When he'd finished he glanced down into the adoring eyes of his latest conquest and raised an eyebrow, silently querying such selfless behaviour. 'I think,' he told her warmly, 'that I would very much like to find out what she is like in bed!'
It was in this way that Gemma Kingston discovered, as countless other women had discovered before her, that for Renato Bellini she barely existed except to give him pleasure.
'Now she's finally made it, I hope she's satisfied!' said Louise spitefully.
Ruth shook her head. 'Don't be stupid. She's only just begun.' 'What else can she do? Thanks to her, Mother's dead, you and I are off to boarding school in Paris, and Father no longer listens to anyone, not even Bishop. Isn't that true, Bishop?'
Bishop's grey eyes glinted but his expression was bland. 'I've only ever advised your father.'
'You're the one person he's always taken notice of, except her.'
Ruth frowned. She found her sister's attempts at ingratiating herself with a man so patently disinterested as Bishop quite grotesque. It was strange that so many young men fell in love with Louise yet it was remote, emotionless Bishop whom she wanted.
'You don't care, Ruth!' shouted Louise. 'I think you actually like Lisa.'
That was true but she was saved from replying by the arrival of Rebekah. Small, unwanted Rebekah who'd loathed her mother, hated her sisters, worshiped her father and now feared Bishop without knowing why. Bishop—who guessed why—watched her constantly, terrified that she might bring about his downfall. 'Enjoy the wedding?' he asked sardonically.
'What's a honeymoon?' she demanded, having discovered that countering one question with another was the best way out of awkward moments.
'A period of time spent in the land of milk and honey!' 'Where's that?'
'Anywhere you choose. Egypt; Greece; Italy; even America, if your taste is so inclined.' Louise gave a gurgle of laughter and he wondered if he could ever bring himself to marry her, however advantageous such a marriage would be. He tried to picture her at his cottage in Norfolk, tearful and pleading as Annabelle had been last night. She'd probably try and laugh even then, he thought coldly.
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