by Penny Jordan
“My style?” He gave a short bark of laughter. “My God that’s rich coming from you. Perhaps I came back because I couldn’t endure being away from you any longer.”
He said it so derisively that for a moment she actually wanted to hit him, but she controlled the impulse saying quietly, “Us quarrelling won’t help Sophie, Slater.”
“No.” He frowned. “I think I know what made Sophie disappear the way she did, but I can’t work out why she should go to the cottage. To the best of my knowledge she didn’t even know it existed. Natalie never visited her mother there after you left, and once the cottage was empty…”
“You’re wrong, Slater,” Chris told him positively, “Natalie had visited the cottage—and relatively recently. The first time I walked into it after my arrival I could smell her perfume—it was quite unmistakable, and Sophie must have been with her because she has some books of mine that can only have come from the cottage. Natalie would certainly never have thought to collect them and give them to her.”
“No, there never was any love lost between you was there?”
“I can’t think why Natalie should go to the cottage,” Chris persisted. “She always said she hated it when we lived there.” She glanced enquiringly at Slater, surprised to see how brooding and bitter his expression was.
“Can’t you?” he said derisively. “I should have thought it was obvious, although in view of recent discoveries perhaps I’m misjudging you again. I suspect Natalie used the cottage as a convenient place to meet her lovers,” he told Chris frankly.
She was stunned and completely lost for words, partly because of what Slater had suggested and partly due to his apparent lack of concern at Natalie’s betrayal.
“You didn’t care?” she whispered, only half aware that she was giving voice to her inner thoughts… “You didn’t…”
“Love her?” His mouth twisted. “Natalie and I made a bargain, Chris, and whatever else was involved in it, love most certainly wasn’t.”
It took her several seconds to grasp the truth. Slater had married Natalie because she carried his child. She ought to have felt pity for her cousin and one part of her did, but the greater feeling surging through her was one of relief. Slater had never loved Natalie…but he had made love to her, her brain cautioned, and at the same time as he was making love to you…he might not have loved Natalie, but he didn’t love you either, Chris… It was undeniably true.
“Sophie seemed very distressed by John’s presence.” Chris broke the heavy silence with the first thing she could think of.
“Yes…yes, she would be.” Slater’s voice was clipped, his expression grim. “What made you think of looking in the cottage, and why the hell didn’t you tell me where you were going?” He asked, the question just as the nurse came up to tell Chris that she was free to go.
“It was only a very faint hope—I felt silly telling anyone about it… I didn’t really believe it myself…”
“And so instead you damned nearly killed…” He broke off and turned his head away. He was furious with her, Chris acknowledged achingly and he had every right to be. She had jeopardised Sophie’s life, but must he underline to her how very little she meant to him?
The nurse asked him to leave so that Chris could get dressed. He was waiting for her outside the ward, his expression still bleak.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She must look an absolute wreck, Chris acknowledged painfully, or was it simply that Slater would prefer her to remain in hospital out of his way.
“I’m fine,” she told him tautly. “Just as soon as I can make the arrangements I’ll be leaving…”
“We’ll talk about that later.” He was hustling her into his car. “Dr Stafford wants to see you for a check-up in two weeks from now, so I shouldn’t make any arrangements to leave before then if I were you.”
Chris gasped. “He never said anything to me.”
“No?” Slater was plainly bored with the conversation. He leaned across her, deftly securing her seat belt.
“I’m not a child you know.” She knew she was being petty, but even the clinical brush of his fingers against her clothed body was a kind of agony she still felt too vulnerable to endure, conjuring up as it did images of other touches, far from clinical and burned into her memory for all time.
“And what about Sophie,” Slater demanded. “What about all that pure motivating stuff you came out with not so long ago about having a duty towards her, or was that simply all a pose, Chris? A way of getting at me…”
“No! I love Sophie,” she told him shakily, “but I don’t think I’m helping her at all.”
“Same old Chris,” Slater taunted. “You always did want instant results. Sophie needs time, Chris…time to adjust to Natalie’s death… She loves you,” he told her unexpectedly. “If you leave now it could do her irreparable harm.”
Why was he telling her this? Chris’s head felt muzzy. He couldn’t possibly want her to stay; he had already told her that; proved it to her…unless…she shivered suddenly despite the car’s heating… Slater was an extremely sensual man…did he perhaps envision her as a willing bedpartner; someone he could use until such time as he tired of her?
“If I do stay, it will be strictly as Sophie’s guardian.” The words were out before she could stop them, the sudden screech of car tyres as Slater pulled to an abrupt halt, shocking her. It was fortunate that they were on an empty country road Chris reflected numbly as his hands left the wheel and gripped her shoulders, the bitter fury in his eyes shocking her.
“And just what the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t touch me.” She was in danger of total collapse, Chris thought weakly. If Slater didn’t let go of her soon, she would be babbling her love to him, demanding far more from him than merely the angry grip of his fingers on her skin. “Let me go. I can’t bear you to touch me,” she lied huskily, desperate to put some distance between them. Slater’s face looked grey, only his eyes alive as they burned into her. He released her slowly and sat back in his own seat.
“Don’t worry, Chris,” he told her sardonically, “I’ve far more important things to worry about than making love to you. You puzzle me you know, there’s so much about you that’s contradictory…”
“I’m a woman, Slater…” Somehow she managed to summon a small smile, “It’s an attribute of my sex…”
“I think I’m beginning to understand why you and Ray are still ‘friends’. What happened, Chris? Did you hold out for marriage and he lose interest?”
Chris was totally nonplussed. “I never wanted to marry Ray,” she told him in bewilderment.
“No… I forgot it was your career you wanted to further, wasn’t it? And he was the vehicle you used to do it…”
Her heart was thumping erratically. “Yes that’s right.” For a moment she had almost forgotten the lie she had perpetrated all those years ago to save her pride, going to Slater and agreeing when he accused her of wanting to pursue a career as a model, even boasting a little of Ray’s offer to help her. Anything to stop him from guessing how much his betrayal hurt her.
The rest of the journey was conducted in silence, Chris heaving a faint sigh of relief when they reached the house. Her ankle was still slightly painful, necessitating her taking care on stairs, but she was not prepared for Slater to pick her up in his arms when she hesitated at the bottom of them.
“Slater, put me down. I can manage…”
“Why bother, this way’s much quicker.”
“I’m not an invalid you know,” she protested when he carried her into her bedroom and deposited her on the bed.
“Perhaps not, but you have spent the last few days in hospital. Stafford said we were to make sure that you got some rest.” He was still bending over her and Chris had a suffocating desire to reach up and touch him…to feel his mouth against her own…. Perhaps something in her expression communicated her desires to him because she was conscious of a change in his expression, a darke
ning of his eyes that betrayed his purpose as his head came lower. “Chris…” The way he said her name made her heart turn over; she yearned for him to hold her; to love her. His hand cupped her face, his thumb probing the softness of her mouth.
“Slater!” The sharply imperative sound of Sarah’s voice forced Chris back to reality. She jerked away from Slater as though he was fire.
“I need to talk to you about Sophie. She’s still extremely distressed.” She gave Chris a bitterly venomous look. “You’ve brought her back then.”
No need to guess what Sarah thought about that. It was clear to hear in her voice. It was only when Slater left her room with the other woman that Chris remembered she had not told him about Sophie speaking. There would be other occasions, and anyway perhaps she would be wiser to discuss what had happened with John first. He was more likely to believe her than Slater who might even think that she was making it up, deliberately fabricating something to prove that her presence was of benefit to Sophie, lengthening her stay so that she could be near him. But Slater apparently wanted her to stay… Thoroughly muddled by her thoughts Chris closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
It was Sophie who woke her. The little girl had crept into her room and was sitting on the end of the bed watching her. Chris gave her a warm smile, and said softly, “Hello…”
The pleasure that shone in her brown eyes as Sophie returned her smile, made Chris’s heart swell with love. “Have you come to read to me?” she asked. Sophie had the inevitable book with her, she noticed, taking it when Sophie proffered it, guessing that she wanted her to read.
Half-an-hour later they were interrupted by Slater. “So there you are. Sarah’s been looking everywhere for you,” he chided Sophie gently. She pulled a slight face, but hopped off the bed in obedience to her father’s instructions. Watching them leave, Chris frowned, remembering Sophie’s anguished words. There had been no evidence today that she even remembered them, never mind doubted that Slater was her father.
She ate the lunch Mrs Lancaster prepared, dutifully, and was just wondering about getting up when Sarah marched into her room.
“I suppose you think you’ve been very clever,” she hissed without preamble. “Making Slater feel so guilty that he has to keep you here, but it won’t do you any good. Oh I’m not fooled even if he is. You don’t care about Sophie. It’s all a pretext to stay here with Slater. He doesn’t want you, you know,” she added viciously, “any more than he wanted Natalie. He and I are going to be married.” She laughed mockingly when she saw the pain in Chris’s eyes. “Surely you guessed?”
“You’re not wearing an engagement ring.” Chris knew that her voice trembled betrayingly.
“Not yet…we don’t want to cause any gossip, besides it’s the wedding ring that’s the most important. Oh Slater may find you physically attractive,” she continued before Chris could speak, “but he’d never let himself get involved with another member of Natalie’s family. You’re probably all tainted with the same brush… If she was mentally unstable, who’s to say that you aren’t too… Slater had enough of what that means being married to Natalie…”
“My cousin was not unstable,” Chris denied, knowing in her heart that she was lying… Had Slater complained to Sarah about Natalie’s difficult temperament? She couldn’t endure the knowledge that he must love the other woman. What would Sarah say if she revealed that only days ago Slater had made love to her? It was a hypothetical question because Chris knew she would not tell her. She had too much pride, and besides she knew that Sarah would put the same interpretation on his behaviour that she had herself. He had simply wanted her physically. Pain overwhelmed her.
“No?” Sarah’s eyebrows arched contemptuously, “Can you think of any other explanation for her…nymphomania…?” She laughed unkindly when Chris blanched. “Oh come on, you must know what sort of woman she was. She couldn’t leave any man alone… I’m only surprised that Slater married her.”
“What would you have had him do?” Chris demanded bitterly, “Ignore the fact that she was carrying his child?”
“His child?” Sarah’s mouth twisted contemptuously. “Slater didn’t father Sophie. I doubt that even Natalie knew who did, but it certainly wasn’t Slater. She told me herself that they had never once been lovers. Slater couldn’t bear to touch her, you see.”
The shock of what she was saying stunned Chris. “Not Slater’s child?…but…”
“Why did he marry her? Natalie once told me they had some sort of pact. Slater doesn’t talk about it.”
So there were some things that Slater didn’t tell her, Chris thought numbly. “I don’t believe you,” she managed to get out finally, “Natalie may have told you these things, but she…”
“Was a congenital liar? Yes I know, but in this instance I believe her. She knew how Slater and I felt about one another… She knew he wanted a divorce… Why else do you think she took that overdose?”
It was horrible, far worse than Chris had imagined… “She was too selfish to let him go,” Sarah continued, angry spots of colour burning in her cheeks. “She didn’t want him for herself; she didn’t love him but she wouldn’t let him go…”
“But Sophie…” Chris protested weakly. “He loves her…she loves him…”
Sarah shrugged. “He feels a responsibility towards the child; he’s that kind of man, but once we’re married, there’ll be no place here for Natalie’s bastard. If you care so much about her, why don’t you go back where you came from and take her with you… Neither of you are wanted round here,” she finished callously.
She was gone before Chris could react. She wanted to deny the truth of what Sarah had said, but some deeper instinct than logic warned her that it was true; that Sophie was not Slater’s child… And Sophie knew it. Who had told her? Sarah? She was vindictive enough, Chris thought angrily. And what of Natalie? As though it had been yesterday Chris remembered her cousin telling her that she was carrying Slater’s baby. After seeing the two of them together she had had no reason to disbelieve her, but according to Sarah they had never even been lovers. And if not Slater, then who… As though an inner door in her mind had unlocked, a picture flashed across her mind. Thrusting back the bedclothes, she walked unsteadily across to the dressing table, quickly extracting Ray’s letter. Her fingers trembled as she picked up the photograph. The baby beamed back at her, the resemblance to Sophie so acute that she marvelled that she had not seen it before. She was standing ashen-faced studying the photograph when Slater walked in.
“Sophie’s Ray’s child.” She croaked the words, still only half able to believe them.
“He begot her, if that’s what you mean,” came Slater’s grim response. “It isn’t very pleasant discovering that someone you trusted has deceived you is it, Chris?”
“He can’t have known,” Chris whispered positively, “Natalie…”
“Natalie went to him and begged him to help her. He told her to go and get an abortion,” Slater told her curtly. “She was on the verge of a breakdown when she came to me.”
“And you married her because…”
“My reasons for marrying her are nothing to do with you. If I were you it would be Ray I wanted to question—not me. What suddenly brought on this flash of insight, by the way?” he drawled tauntingly, and Chris had the nausea-inducing suspicion that he thought she had known all along about Sophie’s parentage.
“Sophie spoke when we were at the cottage,” she said slowly. “I told her I wanted to take her home to you, and she said to me, ‘he isn’t my daddy…”’
“That bitch!” Slater’s face had gone bone-white, his mouth hard and tense. “Natalie must have told her. God knows she threatened to often enough, but I never thought…”
“It really doesn’t matter what you thought.” How cool and controlled she sounded, Chris marvelled, watching Slater’s face change, alert wariness creeping into his eyes as he watched her.
“All this proves is that Sophie is solely my responsib
ility. Just as soon as I can I’ll make arrangements for both of us to leave…”
“You…now just one minute.” He almost snarled the words. “Sophie stays right here with me…”
“Why?” Chris looked directly at him. “You don’t want her.”
For several tension filled seconds Slater merely stared at her with mingled loathing and contempt, and then at last in a clipped voice he said, “You haven’t changed have you, Chris? You always did have this facility for turning things round to suit your own convenience. Well not this time…not this time.”
He slammed the door after him, leaving Chris to replace the photograph in its envelope. Even now she could barely take it all in, but she did know one thing. Ray would never have told Natalie to have an abortion. He was a deeply religious person; something that very few people knew. He himself had been illegitimate and often commented that had abortion been freely available in his mother’s lifetime, he never would have been born at all. He had been abandoned as a baby and brought up by a succession of foster parents; and for that reason Chris could never see him refusing to acknowledge any child of his own. She had to speak to him, but the news that he had a six-year-old daughter was hardly something she could just announce over the telephone. And what about Sophie? Could the knowledge that Slater wasn’t her father be the cause of her silence. She had to talk to John.
She wouldn’t ask him to come to the house in case seeing him upset Sophie again, she decided. She thought for a few minutes. The cottage, they could meet there… Once she had spoken to him she might be able to evolve some plan for Sophie’s future. One thing she was sure of; she wasn’t going to leave her here to be bullied and disliked by Sarah once she became Slater’s wife. Slater had claimed that he wanted her. Why? Unless of course, it was simply that he wanted to prevent her from having the little girl? Could he really hate her so much? She was the one who ought to have hated him. She frowned. Why had he not told her why he was marrying Natalie…why had he not explained? What did it matter now. Nothing was changed. He couldn’t have loved her at all; it had been bad enough when she believed he had preferred her cousin to herself, but to know that he had married Natalie without loving her; to know that she had meant so little to him that he had so easily and carelessly dismissed her from his life, was bitter gall indeed.