She put her arms round his waist, trying not to feel resentful of the way he was dismissing their tiny son upon whom he'd previously set so much store. She didn't like anything he'd said but with Jessica's treatment just beginning, now was not the time to argue. She pretended to capitulate. 'Right, and I promise to order the most expensive dishes!'
'Only if you like them!' he laughed. That, she realised, was what lay at the root of all her problems. The things she truly liked weren't the things he wanted to provide. A £2,000 dress didn't compensate for the touch of a man you couldn't love. Only progress by Jessica could help with that, and all at once the hope of such progress seemed a very frail straw at which to clutch.
They had a table in a secluded corner of the Oak Room. Neal was suddenly the charmingly attentive suitor again, all smiles and compliments, and Lisa slowly relaxed.
The food was delicious. They ate pate followed by wild duck with cherries, and after coffee and liqueurs lingered on, chatting about dinner parties to come, Alexi's progress, where Lisa wanted to spend their summer vacation and even, for a brief time, Rebekah.
Feeling better than for many months, Lisa sparkled. Neal was delighted to see several men he knew openly envying him his beautiful young wife. This was how he had envisaged their marriage. It was only when Lisa failed to comply with his vision that he became irritated. At the moment she was still new enough to hold his attention, and the knowledge that other men—such as Bellini—desired her, ensured his continuing interest. No other man had envied him Naomi.
Finally they went back to the flat and this time their lovemaking was more successful. Lisa was relaxed, Neal less impatient, and he sensed that at last there was some genuine response from her. Altogether a most successful end to the day.
'Will you have time to look at some clothes before you go back?' he asked pleasantly over breakfast next morning.
'I'm calling in on Carol to see if she's got any new ideas, then I might try Anouska Hempel's before I go home. Subdued colours are in but I don't want greys and dark blues, they turn my complexion to mud.'
'Remember me to Carol,' said Neal distantly. It was some time since he'd invested in her work and so far the returns were poor. It was true that she designed good clothes for Lisa but other less slender women found them difficult to wear. He was beginning to think she wasn't going to succeed. She'd also borrowed privately from him twice and unless her work picked up he thought he'd probably call in the loan. She wouldn't be able to pay but Bishop had expressed an interest in her and she'd turned him down. With money as the lever, Neal could make sure she accepted his deputy's invitations to one or two social occasions. There were times when it was wise to keep Bishop as happy as his nature allowed.
'I hope the therapy goes well,' he added, and with that astonishing statement kissed her gently, put on his heavy sheepskin jacket and left. If only life could always be like this, thought Lisa, but she knew that given their differing temperaments and sexual incompatability it wasn't very likely.
Chapter Twenty-Two
At first she thought Carol's shop was closed. There was no sign of life inside and the door wouldn't open. She hammered impatiently on the glass until Carol emerged from the back of the shop. 'Lisa, how nice! I was working on some new designs.'
'Where are your assistants? Last time I came you'd got two girls in the shop.'
'I had to let them go. Business isn't booming, I'm afraid. Didn't your husband tell you?'
'Why should he?'
'He is a shareholder, I only thought… Come in anyway. Is this a social or business call?'
'Mainly business. I want some summer clothes in bright clear colours, not those ghastly beiges and greys that are in fashion.'
'Any special occasions?'
'I'd like you to do my Leukemia Research Fund Ball dress for April and a choice of outfits for Ladies Day at Ascot. One for a real summer's day and the other for the more usual windy, rainy one!'
'How about Wimbledon?'
'I think I'll look at some other collections before I decide on that. Neal doesn't want me tied to one designer, not even you!'
'Fair enough. I had a friend of yours in here last week, Amanda Wichell. She's got quite a good figure and wanted a black outfit for a funeral of all things! She bought off the peg but she was most peculiar, kept trotting off to the loo in between trying things on. Is she pregnant?'
'Just high. She's been hospitalised for drug abuse once already. I quite like her, she's amusing and not a bit stuffy.'
'Has she got many friends? I could do with more custom.' 'Is it going that badly?'
'Not as well as I'd hoped. Perhaps if I produce a stunning ball gown things will pick up. Come through and look at some of my materials. By the way, what's Bishop like?'
Lisa began to turn over the samples of taffeta, silk, Swiss cotton and satin. 'He's vile, a real toad! I don't think he's human. This is nice,' she added, fingering a piece of emerald silk shot with silver thread.
'Yes, an oriental style would look lovely in that. Does he have many girlfriends?'
'Quite a few but they don't last long. My eldest step-daughter's got a crush on him. I can't think why, he treats her like dirt. Could I get away with a mandarin collar and splits up the side in a ball gown?'
'No, but you could at Ascot. It ought to be quite short, say to the top of the knee. He's asked me out several times and I was wondering whether to go or not.'
'Damn! I wanted the green for a ball gown. What colour do you call this?' she added, feeling a sample of satin.
'Cerise. I think it would be too much on a ball gown. What should I do?'
'Carol, I'm trying to choose clothes, not your boyfriends! If you enjoy reading the Marquis de Sade then go ahead with Bishop. If not, find yourself a nice normal man. If the emerald silk and the cerise satin are out, how about this orange chiffon?'
'It's called dark apricot! Yes, that would make a lovely ball gown. I think I might go out with him. He keeps asking and I'm sure your husband… '
'I don't want to hear another word about Bishop. That man haunts me. He's always hovering around when I least expect it, and spying on me in my own home. He hates me. I'm sure he's hoping to find me in the arms of some man. I can just imagine how he'd enjoy telling Neal that! All right, dark apricot it is. What about design? I don't want full skirts and a frothy bodice. I'm about a foot taller than Jane Seymour and however gorgeous she may look in that sort of thing, I don't intend to compete. Simplicity—that's our key word, isn't it?'
'I wouldn't call Jane Seymour's clothes the height of simplicity!' 'Carol, what's the matter with you? That's precisely what I said! No wonder you're not doing well. Let's start again.'
When she left, Lisa felt thoroughly dissatisfied. Her friend seemed to have lost all the enthusiasm and energy she'd shown when she first set up the business, and the questions about Bishop had been both boring and intrusive. Fortunately she didn't have any trouble with the better known designers.
Back at Beckett Lodge she just had time to shower and change before hurrying to Jessica. Feeling very nervous she walked into the playroom. It was all very different without Mrs Honeywood's support.
Initially, Jessica behaved in the same way but after about fifteen minutes stopped holding herself so rigidly upright and slumped in her mother's lap. She didn't respond to Lisa but her resistance was weaker and when she was allowed to climb down she stood staring at her mother's skirt for moment, put out a hand and then lightly stroked the woolen material before twirling away out of reach.
Janice who'd sat watching silently, was as pleased as Lisa. 'At the end it looked as though she'd enjoyed sitting with you,' she said with delight.
'It's early days.' Lisa was cautious. She didn't want to raise any false hopes but certainly today had been less of an ordeal. 'Tomorrow I can come in the morning because Neal will be joining me here during the afternoon. We've got twelve people to dinner at eight. Business, but wives will be here too, which means I've got to ke
ep them talking after dinner. Still, that's why he married me!'
On her way down she looked in on her six-week-old son. Alexi was awake, lying on his back staring at the mobile that hung over his crib. He had Neal's slightly olive skin tone and Lisa's dark brown hair, his eyes already darkening from their original baby blue.
'Hello, sweetheart!' she murmured, picking him up and walking to the window while his nanny followed protectively a few steps behind. 'It's all right, you can go and have a cup of tea,' said Lisa briskly. 'I'd like some time alone with my son.'
As soon as the older woman had gone, she sat on the deep window seat and balanced Alexi on her knee. His head wobbled against her arm but his fingers closed round her hands as he made tiny baby sounds. She held him even closer. 'Who's a very special little boy? You are, did you know that?' He made small sucking sounds while his mouth opened and shut. 'It's true,' she laughed . 'You've changed a lot of lives simply by existing!' She put her cheek next to his and he nestled against her. It was all so different from poor Jessica, and helped to calm her after the therapy.
At least here in Alexi's small section of the house everything was normal. There were no tensions and no problems. He was simply an ordinary, healthy baby boy whom she could love without reservation. Slowly she rocked to and fro, her thoughts back with the lonely little girl she'd always been after Stephanie's outburst had destroyed her confidence. She could see herself so clearly, and the pain was still there if she allowed herself to think about it.
'Mummy, it's time for Alexi's feed!' said the nanny quietly. She'd spent an anxious fifty minutes in the adjoining room, wondering why her employer was suddenly spending so long with her son and hoping this wasn't going to be a new pattern. In her opinion babies were better off if they weren't handled too much. Fresh air, food and sleep were all they required in the early days.
'He's quite happy,' said Lisa dreamily. 'Mind you I ought to go and find Rebekah. Here you are, precious, back to Nanny.'
She found Rebekah teasing one of the three cats that roamed around the house. The only dogs around were two Rottweilers who patrolled the grounds at night. 'Come and tell me about your day,' Lisa called cheerfully.
'It was all right. When am I going to a proper school?'
'After Easter. Heathlands private school for girls. You'll have to sit an entrance test but Mrs Woodward says you're well ahead for your age.'
'They'd let me in anyway if Daddy offered them enough money.' 'Money doesn't buy everything in life!'
'Tell me something it can't buy,' the little girl challenged. 'Health and happiness.'
'That's silly! I meant proper things.'
'Believe me, they are proper things. How about having your tea with me?'
'Why?' Rebekah looked highly suspicious. 'Because I'd like some company.'
'If you want me to then I will. I thought you were just doing it to make me happy.'
'Would that be wrong?'
'Yes, because I might enjoy it very much and then you wouldn't offer to have tea with me again and I'd miss it, which would be worse than if you hadn't been nice at all.'
'Is that what people do to you?'
'Often. Mummy used to promise we'd always go for afternoon walks and things like that, but after we'd been out for one or two she'd forget or say she wasn't well. Then once, Daddy said he'd teach me to swim on Saturday afternoons but after three lessons he kept staying in town and swimming ended too. It hurts when that happens,' she added flatly.
'I'm sure it does. When I promise you something, Rebekah, then believe me I shall try and keep that promise if at all possible.'
Rebekah looked closely at her. 'Daddy might stop you. He wants all your attention doesn't he?'
'In a way, but there's not much I can do about your daddy.' 'Okay, I won't count Daddy. You'll always keep your promises unless Daddy stops you. That's fair. Daddy can stop anything. May we have tea in Mummy's old drawing-room? I'd like to eat there.'
'Fine. You'd better go and tell Cook.'
'What shall we have?'
'You choose, but nothing too heavy. Soups and sandwiches, something like that.'
They were still eating when the door burst open and the housekeeper stood in front of them, her face rigid with disapproval. 'How dare you…?' She tailed off when she saw Lisa sitting on the Louis XVI gilded canapé covered in silk damask, a tray on her lap.
'How dare I what, Mrs Sutton?'
'This room isn't for mealtimes, madam. It's always been kept as a quiet room. A place where the first Mrs Gueras could rest.'
'She doesn't need it any more and it's a warm comfortable room, not as large as the others. I think it's sensible to use it when Rebekah and I are on our own.'
'You know your mother cherished this room,' the housekeeper said to an open-mouthed Rebekah. 'How do you think she feels looking down and watching you both?'
Rebekah looked ready to burst into tears and Lisa stood up, furious with the woman for ruining the child's pleasure. 'That will do,' she said icily. 'I shall speak to my husband about this. It's obvious you're not happy working here any more. I think it might be better for everyone if you found employment elsewhere. Kindly leave the room at once.'
Rebekah's eyes were like saucers. 'Can Mummy see us?' she whispered.
'I don't know, but even if she can why should she mind? Wouldn't she want to see you having a nice time?'
'Not likely! I spoilt everything for her. I was meant to be the boy, you see, and when I was a girl and took such a long time being born that Mummy couldn't have any more children, Daddy stopped sharing Mummy's room and started having mistresses.'
'Who told you that?' 'Mummy and Louise.'
'They shouldn't have discussed it with you. It wasn't your fault that things went wrong between your parents.'
'How do you know?'
'Your father is far too intelligent to be affected by a tiny baby!' 'He went off Mummy because she couldn't be a proper wife to him. That's quite sensible when you think about it.'
'Let's finish our tea,' said Lisa quietly. 'I'd rather not discuss it any more.'
'Wait until Mrs Sutton tells Daddy what you said!'
'I shall speak to him about her. I don't think a housekeeper is more important than a wife!'
'She jolly well is. Who's going to run things if she goes? You won't have time and Daddy hates taking on new staff. You'll probably have to apologise to her,' she added.
'I most certainly won't! Now, how about a game of cards before you have your bath?'
'I'm quite certain I'm right,' said Renato Bellini into the telephone, wishing that even from this distance his father didn't have the ability to make him feel unsure of his own judgement. No one else ever had that effect on him.
'When you return,' concluded his father, 'I have found a highly suitable wife for you. She is young, attractive and from an excellent family. Do you remember… ?'
'I think I may have found someone over here,' murmured Renato, knowing full well that nothing could incense his father more.
'An English girl?'
'There are quite a lot of them around!' 'Catholic? Virgin?'
'Doubtful on both counts!' 'Renato, you know very well… '
'I do not wish to have a wife,' said Bellini harshly, his sense of humour suddenly deserting him as he thought of Neal Gueras' wife. 'You may instruct me about the gold and our position here in London but not, I think, about my marrying again.'
'Luciano needs… '
'I must go, there is someone at the door,' Renato lied and quickly replaced the receiver. Luciano was playing at his feet, pushing a Lego car around on the carpet and making quiet noises.
'Park?' he asked, standing up and putting a hand on his father's knee.
'Not today, I have to go away for the night. Tomorrow afternoon perhaps.'
'Si, Papa.'
He accepts things too easily, thought Renato. A man needs to be more determined, to have a stronger will. But Luciano was a loving child, and if it was his nat
ure to be gentle then what right had his father to try and change him? 'Do you like England?' he asked the boy.
'Is very cold. Brrr!' He pretended to shiver.
'It's certainly brrr! Now, I must set off for my dinner party.' 'Are you taking a pretty lady?'
'No, but I'm going to see one.'
'I like pretty ladies who smell nice.'
Perhaps he'd grow up all right! thought Renato with a smile. He picked the boy up, kissed him warmly and then rang for the nurse. He wondered what Neal and Lisa's son was like, and what kind of a character he would develop in the next four years. Somehow he doubted if he'd be quite as gentle as Luciano.
While he was packing, Lisa was making herself as attractive as possible for Neal's return. She knew that she was deliberately trying to get him on her side before the housekeeper complained and despised herself for it, but since this was the best way to handle Neal it was only sensible to take advantage of her slight power over him. Certainly when he arrived and found her waiting in the front porch, wearing tight fitting slacks and a low-necked angora top, the weariness vanished from his face and he put his arms tightly round her. 'You smell delicious!' he murmured.
'Let's go upstairs,' she responded. 'I want to show you some of the clothes I bought yesterday.'
Mrs Sutton came briskly out of the kitchen area. 'I wonder if I might have a word with you, Mr Gueras?'
'Later,' he said brusquely. 'I've only just arrived home.' 'Couldn't wait to get her into bed!' the housekeeper reported indignantly to the cook. 'After all these years of looking after the house, he behaved as though I was some new maid.'
In their bedroom, Lisa was modeling underwear she'd bought from a shop off New Bond Street specialising in La Perla, the Italian lingerie.
It was too much for Neal, and when she smiled agreement at the unspoken question in his eyes he immediately stripped off and pulled her down on top of him, his hands rapidly unclasping the sheer satin bra that concealed very little indeed, and then his mouth was on her breasts and to his surprise she was actually sitting astride him, far more the aggressor than ever before.
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