The Bride In Blue

by Miranda Lee

  'I… I…' Sophia rose onto unsteady legs. 'I have to go to the ladies',' she finished in a rush, almost knocking over her chair as she scuttled away in what she supposed was a very unsophisticated haste. But she didn't care. She couldn't sit mere a moment longer. She certainly couldn't engage in a seemingly normal conversation with Jonathon at that moment. Maybe, by the time she returned, that hateful creature would have left, and maybe she might have regained control over her silly self. To find herself stammering again was mortifying in the extreme.

  The ladies' room was blessedly empty, Sophia expelling a shuddering sigh as she leant against the twin vanity-units, her shoulders and head drooping. The door opening and shutting behind her sent her eyes jerking up in the mirror, only to find Charmaine's blazing blue eyes lying in wait for her. There was no smile on her face this time, and she didn't look half so lovely without it. In fact, she looked ugly, her mouth twisting with hate as she stood there with her back against the door, pretending to inspect Sophia.

  'God, you're not even tall!' she sneered. 'Jonathon likes his women tall, didn't you know that? Tall and blonde… like me. With a decent bust… like me. I'll tell you why he married you, little miss nobody. Because he wanted someone young and compliant whom he could install in that ghastly old barn of a house as his private brood mare.'

  Sophia stood there, frozen, when the woman came forward, grabbed her arm and spun her round. 'But don't think he won't be having other women on the side,' she raved on, her face contorted with fury. 'Women like me. Maybe even me! Don't go thinking that act out there means a damned thing. He hasn't forgotten me. He'll never forget me. I gave him better sex—and more of it—than any man has ever had. Wait till you become pregnant and your body is gross. He won't come near you with a bargepole.'

  Something snapped inside Sophia, something quite frightening. She wrenched her arm out of Charmaine's hold and slapped her so hard the other woman screamed and reeled backwards against one of the cubicle doors, clasping her cheek and gaping at Sophia. 'How dare you hit me?' she yelled. 'I… I'll sue you for assault!'

  'And I'll sue you for slander!' Sophia yelled right back. 'My Jonathon wouldn't dream of being un­faithful to me. You know nothing, you stupid ma­licious slut. You're everything he despises in a woman. He would rather have one night with me than a million nights with you, because he loves me.'

  Charmaine laughed. 'Jonathon Parnell doesn't love any woman.'

  'Maybe he didn't once but he does now,' Sophia argued. 'He loves me. And I love him,' she added, her heart contracting as the truth of this last bit hit home very hard. She'd suspected as much for some time, but this incident underlined just how deeply she did love him. If she lost him, she would die. Of course, she didn't have the same faith in Jonathon's love for her. Charmaine was probably right. It seemed likely that the man who had been husband to both of them was not capable of the kind of love Sophia craved.

  'What's going on in here?'

  Both women turned to face Jonathon standing in the doorway.

  'Your bitch of a wife hit me,' Charmaine whined, rubbing her cheek.

  One of Jonathon's eyebrows shot up as he glanced over at a flushed but unrepentant Sophia. 'I dare say you deserved it,' he drawled. 'When Sophia hits someone, they usually do. I suggest you keep out of her way, Charmaine. She's not nearly as meek and mild as she looks. Come, darling…' He extended a hand towards Sophia. 'I've fixed up the bill. I think we'll have our coffee back at home. Goodnight, Charmaine. If I ever see you again, it will be too soon.'

  Sophia's fingers were trembling as Jonathon's large hand enclosed them. Somehow, she managed to ignore all the curious eyes that turned their way as Jonathon escorted her from the ladies' room and then the res­taurant. How much had they heard, she wondered? How much had Jonathon heard?

  'Did you believe her?' he asked during the drive home.

  'Believe what?' Sophia hedged.

  'Whatever lies she told you about me.'

  Sophia smothered a relieved sigh. So he hadn't really heard anything. Their argument had probably been muffled by the heavy wooden door. No doubt it was Charmaine's scream that had brought Jonathon to investigate.

  'I wouldn't believe anything that slut said,' Sophia said firmly. 'She has no integrity.'

  Jonathon chuckled. 'That is a very Godfreyish expression.'

  'Is it?' Sophia was startled.

  'Yes. According to Godfrey, very few people have integrity.'

  'He may have been right,' she muttered.

  'Are you referring to me?'

  Sophia said nothing.

  Jonathon sighed. 'Do you honestly think I would have anything to do with that woman ever again?'

  'I… I'm not sure,' she admitted at last.

  'But you are sure I would have extra-marital af­fairs. You certainly implied as much earlier on.'

  Again Sophia said nothing.

  'Goddamn it, answer me!'

  Tears pricked at her eyes. 'Yes,' she said in a small, broken voice. 'Yes… I am.'

  He swore as she had never heard him swear before. He yanked the Jaguar into their driveway with a face like thunder, still muttering away under his breath.

  There was no mention of coffee as he steered her inside, up the stairs and into her bedroom, Sophia having subsided into a fearful silence at Jonathon's black mood.

  'Now,' he ground out once the door was safely shut and he'd plonked her down on the end of the bed. 'I want you to simply sit and listen. I do not want you to say a single word. Not a single word!'

  Sophia nodded, happy not to have to talk.

  He began pacing back and forth across the room, muttering darkly to himself. Finally, he stopped in front of the window, his hands gripping the sill as he drew in then expelled a shuddering breath. Finally, he turned to face her again, folding his arms and making a big effort to relax his tensely held shoulders.

  'I want to tell you a story,' he said, his voice sur­prisingly low and controlled. 'About a man who married a woman he loved to distraction, but the woman was incapable of loving him back as he wanted to be loved…'

  Sophia's eyes rounded. Was he talking about their marriage? Could he be confessing that he… ?

  'The man was my father,' he went on abruptly, totally obliterating her suddenly soaring hopes. 'The woman, my mother…'

  Sophia's interest was captured, despite her disap­pointment. She straightened, her eyes fixed on Jonathon who was not looking at her but at some vague point on the far wall.

  'My mother, you see, did not like the physical side of marriage. She found it… distasteful. She found my father's desires… disgusting. He confessed as much to me when I tackled him later in life on his many and increasingly less discreet affairs. But it was only when he told me the full story that I finally understood the puzzle that was my mother…'

  Sophia couldn't say she was surprised by what she was hearing. She'd already suspected that Ivy had found her husband's obviously high sex drive an in­timidating factor in their relationship.

  'Apparently, my mother tolerated what she con­sidered Dad's excessive demands till after she became pregnant with Godfrey. It was then that she started refusing him. Dad told me he was devastated, but since he loved my mother he tried not to stray, thinking that maybe after the baby was born things would get back to normal. Instead, she found every excuse she could think of not to resume marital relations. A year went by, then two. The strain of enforced celibacy began to take its toll and one night, in a fit of frus­trated rage, he forced himself on her… quite violently…'

  Sophia was shocked, yet moved. The poor man… the poor woman… what a horrible mis­match of natures!

  'The result was me,' Jonathon said bleakly, 'plus the end of all physical intimacy between them. To add insult to injury, I came out the spitting image of Dad. Can you wonder that she found it hard to love me, or that she has always favoured Godfrey?'

  Sophia wanted to cry. Oh, poor, poor Jonathon…

  'But your mother does love y
ou, Jonathon,' she insisted. 'She really does.'

  He nodded slowly. 'Yes, I actually think she does… now. I've gone up in her estimation con­siderably since I married you. But during my growing-up years she obviously found it hard to look at me and not… remember. I dare say I didn't help matters by following in Dad's footsteps in every way. I even committed the ultimate sin of liking sex as much as he did. That was the final straw around this house!

  'It wasn't till I was a man and my father explained everything that I finally no longer blamed my mother for her attitude towards me. But I did blame her for making her husband turn elsewhere for what he should have received at home, quite willingly. I admit he was no saint. He had faults, not the least of which was his handling of Godfrey. Being a male of the old school, he didn't understand Godfrey's sensitive and slightly feminine nature, bossing and bullying him unmercifully, thinking he was making a man out of him.'

  Jonathon began shaking his head. 'I have to admit Godfrey frustrated me too. I couldn't count the number of times I had to go to bat for him in the schoolyard. My father could never understand why Godfrey didn't fight back himself, why it was always me with the black eyes and not my older brother. When Godfrey wanted ballet lessons, my father enrolled him in boxing classes. When he wanted to do art, he had business studies rammed down his throat.'

  Jonathon's laugh was rueful. 'But he did suffer for his transgressions, believe me. Guilt over his extra­marital affairs made him eventually turn to drink, and it was the drink that killed him. I loved that old bastard, Sophia. And I understood his pain. I vowed over his grave to never marry any woman who wouldn't give me everything I wanted in life. My idea of a married Utopia was plenty of sex interspersed with a large family. I wanted nothing of gentility or timidity. I wanted passion and no inhibitions at all…

  'And so… I married Charmaine.'

  When his face took on a faraway look, Sophia felt impelled to speak, driven by a jealousy that was as fierce as it was tormented.

  'She… she said she gave you better sex—and more of it—than any man has ever had…'

  His eyes turned to focus on her. Hard glittering eyes.

  'I would give up every night I spent with her for one moment with you.'

  She gasped as he walked swiftly over to her and pulled her up into his arms. 'I have not been un­faithful to you,' he whispered harshly into her hair. 'I have no intention of being unfaithful to you; I am going away tomorrow on business, nothing more.'

  'But… but you did sleep with other women when you went away before,' she insisted shakily, afraid to naïvely believe all that he was saying. For all his ardour, there were still no words of love.

  He drew back, peering down at her with anguish and regret in his gaze. 'Sometimes,' he groaned. 'Yes, sometimes. But that was because I was terrified of what I might do to you.'

  'To me?'

  'Damnation, Sophia, you're not that innocent! You must have realised how much I wanted you that night on the stairs. Why the hell do you think I took myself off the very next day? I had to do something, any­thing to stop myself from trying to take what I had no right to.'

  'I…I see…'

  'No, you probably don't see,' he muttered, his shoulders sagging as he turned away from her. 'How could you possibly?'

  'But… but you have a right now, Jonathon,' she whispered, reaching up to place her small hands on his wide shoulders, to rest her face against his back. 'We're man and wife now, and I want you as much as you want me. Stay with me tonight. Make love to me. I… I need you, Jonathon.'

  He spun round on a tortured groan, sweeping her hard against him and kissing her till they were both shaking with desire. 'Are you sure it's all right?' he rasped.

  'Yes, of course it is. It always was.'

  'I was worried I might be too rough with you, that I might do something… dangerous…'

  'Then let me make love to you,' she suggested, her heart and stomach fluttering with excitement. 'I'll be careful, and very, very slow.'

  He groaned his pleasure at the thought.

  'God, how I've missed you,' he said thickly, pulling the pins out of her hair and stroking it down her back. 'You've no idea.'

  'No more than I've missed you,' she murmured. 'Let me show you how much…'

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When the cramping pains woke Sophia in the early hours of the morning, her first reaction was disbelief. This couldn't be happening to her again. It just couldn't!

  But it seemed it was. The pains were very familiar.

  'Oh, no,' she moaned aloud, tears fining her eyes. 'No…' She covered her face with her hands in grief and dismay.

  Jonathon was immediately awake beside her, rolling over to take her shaking hands down from her face. 'What is it?' he asked anxiously. 'Are you ill?'

  'The baby,' she sobbed. 'It's the baby. Oh, God…'

  'Are you bleeding?'

  'I… I don't know,' she choked out, having been too frightened to look.

  Jonathon snapped on the bedside lamp and threw back the quilt. 'No, you're not,' he muttered, then threw the quilt back over her. 'Try to relax. I'm going to get dressed then take you straight to the hospital. It might only be a false alarm.'

  He dragged on some warm clothes double-quick, bundled her into one of his large warm dressing-gowns and carried her straight down to the car. By this time she was moaning continually with the pain, which was simply dreadful, much worse than the last time.

  'Hang on, Sophia,' he told her. 'Just hang on.' But he looked horribly worried and pale.

  Despair consumed Sophia. It's all my fault, she began thinking. I should never have insisted we make love. Never. Now I'm going to lose the only real part of Jonathon I will ever have to love with all my heart. His baby…

  It wasn't her own doctor who examined her when they reached the hospital, but he was a gynaecologist, there to deliver a baby. Sophia was in so much pain at this stage that she was oblivious to the probing hands, the glaring lights and the muttering voices. She was shivering and shaking, her skin was clammy, and nausea was beginning to swim in her stomach. Suddenly, she was violently ill all over the side of the bed, her stomach heaving all its contents onto the floor as the casualty nurse flew to get first a basin, then a mop and bucket.

  Eventually, Sophia flopped back on the pillow, exhausted yet amazingly feeling a lot better. Her eyes closed on a weary sigh, her head shaking with con­fusion and a sprinkling of hope. Maybe this wasn't a miscarriage at all. Maybe she was simply ill.

  The doctor immediately echoed her thoughts. 'I think perhaps some of your fears can be put to rest, Mr Parnell,' she heard him say. 'Your wife's obviously eaten something that didn't agree with her. You wouldn't by any chance have had some seafood during the last twelve hours or so, would you?'

  'Yes, we had oysters at dinner last night, then lobster.'

  'Since you aren't ill yourself, then it was probably a bad oyster. It only takes one.'

  'Then my wife isn't going to lose the baby?'

  'I didn't say that…' These words had Sophia's eyes flying open again in renewed panic. 'I'd like to keep her in overnight for observation. I'd also like to sedate her. Her system's received quite a shock. It needs a little calming down.' He turned and ordered the nurse to get something in what sounded like medical gobbledegook to Sophia. Her still-worried eyes turned to Jonathon.

  He came forward and took her nearest hand in both of his. 'It's just a precaution, darling,' he said softly. 'Don't worry. You'll be fine. You don't think I'm going to let anything happen to my baby, do you?'

  The prick of the needle in her arm was hardly noticed as all her attention remained on her hus­band's word. His baby. Was Charmaine right? Was that all she was to him, a baby-carrier?

  No, no, that didn't seem right. Last night, when she'd made love to him, she could have sworn he'd looked up at her with love in his eyes. For the first time as she'd moved over him, their bodies blended, she'd felt a powerful emotional bond surge between them, s
omething that transcended the sex. At last, it had been a meeting of souls as well as bodies. She'd fallen asleep afterwards, hugging that wonderful thought to her heart.

  She drifted off to sleep now, clinging to that memory, hoping against hope.

  When she finally resurfaced to a woozy conscious­ness, the hospital room was filled with daylight. It was also empty, a private room with only the one bed. The door was open, however, and as her wits gradually returned she could hear Jonathon's voice in the cor­ridor just outside.

  'She's going to be all right? You're absolutely sure, Doctor? You're not just saying that?'

  'Positive, Mr Parnell. We've checked her every hour all day. Her vital signs are very good and she's resting comfortably. Please stop worrying. The baby's fine as well.'

  'I wasn't so worried about the baby. There can always be another baby. There can never be another Sophia. God… I don't know what I would do if any­thing ever happened to her.'

  Sophia was stunned at the way Jonathon's voice shook and broke during these last amazing words. It sounded as if he was almost in tears. Her heart flooded with emotion and flowed over. He did love her. She had been right last night. He did…

  Tears filled her own eyes just as he walked in. On seeing that she was awake yet seemingly distressed, he raced over, anxiety on his ravaged face. He hadn't shaved and there were lines of worry etched around his mouth and eyes. 'What is it? Are you still in pain? Do you want me to call the doctor? He's just walked off down the corridor. I could…'

  She shook her head vigorously from side to side, unable to trust her voice for a few seconds. He con­tinued to look down at her with real concern and caring, and she wondered how she could have missed seeing that he loved her.

  'Then what is it?' he persisted. 'Why are you crying?'

  'You… you love me,' she said, and did her best to stop crying, gulping down the lump in her throat and blinking away the tears.

  She saw his shock through her clearing gaze.

  'No, I…'

  'You do,' she insisted huskily. 'Don't he.'