Wanting to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her, she said, ‘I decided that staying with you was too high a price to pay.’
‘Don’t you mean you got scared? When, somehow, you discovered I knew all about your little games, you were afraid to stay.’
‘If by “little games” you mean I’d have designs on Henry, it wasn’t true. You were mistaken.’
‘I don’t think so. Though you had a look of radiant innocence, you’d battened on to my father like a leech, and if I hadn’t taken a hand you’d have sucked him dry.’
Elizabeth shuddered.
‘Perhaps you imagined that, living in the States, I was too distant to either know or care what was going on? But for Piery’s sake, as well as my father’s, I felt the need to do something.’
‘But if that’s what you thought, why didn’t you simply warn me off?’ That she might have coped with. ‘Why go to all the trouble of marrying me?’ That was the unbearable part.
His eyes cold and cruel, he said, ‘I couldn’t be sure you’d go. My father was in love with you, so you had a powerful hold. Marrying you, even if we didn’t stay together, seemed to offer a permanent solution.’
‘You keep saying Henry was in love with me, but it wasn’t that kind of relationship at all. Truly it wasn’t…’
Oh, what was the use? Quinn thought she was a gold-digger and she’d never convince him otherwise.
As though to prove the point, he said, ‘Tell me, when you decided to leave me, why didn’t you try to negotiate some kind of financial settlement?’
‘I didn’t want your money. All I wanted was my freedom.’
‘Then why didn’t you wait to see me and ask me for it?’
‘Because I didn’t want to see you…’
Knowing just why he’d married her, and bitterly ashamed of what a naïve fool she’d been, she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of facing him.
‘I hoped I’d never have to set eyes on you again.’
‘Whereas, for all these years, I’ve been hoping quite the opposite.’
‘But why? I don’t understand why.’
‘Perhaps because nothing was settled between us, and I don’t like leaving unfinished business.’
His voice harsh, he demanded, ‘Did you imagine changing your name would make any difference? I would have found you no mater how long it took.’
‘You don’t mean you’ve had detectives looking all this time—’ she smiled tauntingly ‘—then we meet up quite by chance?’
‘Not quite by chance,’ he said silkily.
As his meaning sank in, her eyes widened. ‘You knew I’d be at the sale?’
‘I hoped you’d be there. I’d seen a list of the “Specially Invited” and Beaumont’s name was on it.’
‘But how did you…?’
Quinn smiled a shade wryly. ‘This is where chance does come in. Piery spotted you…’
Piery, Quinn’s young half-brother, whom she had always thought of as her friend…
‘He paid a brief visit to one of Lady Beaumont’s big charity functions, and he happened to catch sight of you with Beaumont…
‘At least he thought it was you, but wasn’t sure. Luckily, that night there was a photograph of the pair of you in one of the society columns. He tore it out and sent it to me. That’s why I dropped everything and came over for the sale.’
Despite the warmth of the fire, she shivered. ‘What if I hadn’t been there?’
Quinn’s shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. ‘I would have had to make other plans. Once I knew I could find you through Beaumont it ceased to be a major problem.
‘Though I must admit I was pleased when I caught sight of you sitting with him. It made things so much simpler. All I needed to do was wait and see what he was bidding for…’
‘And make sure you outbid him,’ he said resentfully.
‘Exactly. I wanted some kind of bait. Something that would give me an opening.’
‘I see what you meant when you said the diamond was just the means to an end.’
He smiled. ‘In the event, things worked out even better than I’d dared hope. If you had told Beaumont the truth, or admitted to knowing me, he would no doubt have been a great deal more cautious.’
Now it was too late she wished fervently that she had brought things into the open. If she’d acted differently, she wouldn’t be in the nerve-racking position of having Quinn here, an unwanted and dangerous guest in her own home…
Breaking into her thoughts, the grandmother clock to the left of the fireplace chimed twelve-thirty.
Getting to his feet, he stretched, supple as any cat, and reached to turn off the lights, leaving only the standard lamp and the glow from the leaping flames.
‘It’s been a long day so, now I’ve answered your questions, if you want to—’
‘But you haven’t,’ she broke in wildly. ‘You still haven’t told me why you went to all this trouble. What do you mean by unfinished business…’
He turned his head to look at her. His face was partly shadowed, but little flames danced in his eyes. Softly, he said, ‘My dear Jo, surely you know?’
‘I wish you wouldn’t call me that,’ she muttered. ‘And no, I don’t know.’
He sighed theatrically. ‘You never used to be obtuse. As I recall, you were quick and intelligent and more often than not on my wavelength…’
‘Then I’m not any longer. I just don’t see what you hope to gain… Why you’re here…’ She made a helpless gesture with her hands. ‘You’re married, I’m soon going to be, and—’
‘And your fiancé won’t like the idea of me spending the night with you?’
Ignoring the provocative phrasing, she said curtly, ‘I’ve already told you he won’t. Will your wife?’
Sitting down again, he smiled tauntingly. ‘She doesn’t seem to.’
It took a moment or two for the implication to sink in. Her throat feeling as though a silken noose had tightened round it, Elizabeth whispered hoarsely, ‘You don’t…’ Swallowing hard, she tried again. ‘You don’t mean that I’m…?’
‘Still my wife? That’s exactly what I mean.’
‘No, I can’t be,’ she cried desperately. ‘The marriage was going to be annulled.’
‘That was your idea. You didn’t wait to see if I was in agreement.’
‘But when I swore I had no intention of living with you the family lawyers drew up the necessary papers and I signed them.’
‘Well, I didn’t.’
‘Why?’ It wasn’t as if he’d ever loved her. ‘Your lawyers agreed it was the best thing to do.’
‘I didn’t happen to think so.’ Frowning, he went on, ‘Though when time passed and I couldn’t trace you one of the things I was afraid of was that you might presume it had been annulled and marry again.’
A note of satisfaction in his voice, he added, ‘It appears I found you in the nick of time. Bigamy is a serious offence.’
‘But ours wasn’t a proper marriage…’
‘You mean it hasn’t been consummated?’
Colour creeping into her face, she lifted her chin defiantly. ‘It hadn’t.’
‘No,’ he agreed pleasantly. ‘Though I’m afraid, as things stand, that fact doesn’t make us legally any less married.’
As though somehow, miraculously, it would wipe out the past and put everything right, she protested, ‘But I’ve promised to marry Richard.’
‘Somewhat prematurely, as it turns out.’
Still unwilling to believe it, she cried, ‘You didn’t say anything when he was talking about an engagement ring.’
His smile sardonic, Quinn asked, ‘Would you have preferred me to tell him that he was wasting his time because you were still my wife?’
She winced.
‘I thought not.’ Then he said briskly, ‘However, as you mentioned a spring wedding, he’ll have to know soon.’
Putting a distracted hand to her head, she whispered, ‘How am I ever going to tell him?’
&n
bsp; ‘Is he aware you’ve been married?’
‘No.’ She barely breathed the word.
‘Then however you tell him it’s bound to come as something of a shock.’
Quinn sounded callous, uncaring, but a moment later that was proved false when he remarked, ‘I feel sorry for the poor devil.’
‘Oh, why didn’t you get an annulment?’ Elizabeth was suddenly close to tears. ‘It would have been all over and done with. Now it’s going to hurt Richard, and disrupt all our lives.’
‘So you still want an annulment?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘And if I don’t?’
Her blood ran cold. ‘But you must do. While you’re tied to a woman you haven’t seen for over five years, you’re not free to marry again.’
‘What makes you think I want to?’
‘You once said you’d like a family… Surely that means marrying again?’
‘Suppose, having made one lot of marriage vows, I regard them as sacred?’
‘Don’t try to tell me you meant any of those vows,’ Elizabeth cried passionately. ‘The whole thing was—’ She broke off and bit her lip.
After a moment she drew a deep, steadying breath and went on with icy determination, ‘If you don’t agree to an annulment, then I’ll take whatever steps are necessary to end the marriage.’
‘Really?’ he laughed, teeth gleaming in the firelight. ‘That sounds rather like a mouse threatening to bite a cat.’
‘But I won’t be on my own.’ She made no effort to hide the triumph. ‘Richard will be with me all the way.’
At the mention of Richard, she saw Quinn’s face darken with a look of jealous fury.
No, she must have misread it. He couldn’t be jealous. To be jealous he would need to feel something positive for her, and there was little doubt that he felt nothing but cold resentment. Still, he could be, and undoubtedly was, possessive.
Proving she was right, he said brusquely, ‘As you remarked earlier there’s no love lost between myself and Beaumont, so do you seriously think I’ll let him have what’s mine?’
‘I’m not yours,’ she denied sharply. ‘In any event I don’t see how you can stop him. If you try to put up any opposition, Richard had more than enough wealth and power to fight you.’
‘Yes, I must congratulate you on managing to hook another rich man…’
Elizabeth flinched as though he’d slapped her.
Smiling mirthlessly, Quinn went on, ‘But when you’ve told him the truth, will he be willing to use all that wealth and power? Will he still want to go ahead with the wedding when he knows just whose wife you are?’
Richard had said he loved her, but would he still want to marry her when he knew how she had lied and deceived him? When he knew she was Quinn Durville’s wife?
But she wasn’t Quinn’s wife, she reminded herself urgently. A ten-minute ceremony and a marriage certificate didn’t make her a wife, any more than five years spent apart made a happy marriage.
‘I’m sure he will.’ She spoke over-emphatically in an attempt to hide any doubts.
‘You seem very certain.’
‘I am certain.’
‘What if he did change his mind?’ Quinn pressed.
‘I’d still want to be free as soon as possible.’
‘Very well.’ His voice was matter-of-fact, his face devoid of emotion. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning.’
Knowing Quinn wasn’t a man to throw in the towel, she felt a sudden unease, his apparent capitulation worrying her almost more than continued opposition would have done. But she mustn’t let him see it.
Getting to her feet, she muttered, ‘I’ll fetch some bedclothes.’
When she returned with a couple of pillows and a small pile of blankets, she found he had removed his tie and was just finishing unbuttoning his evening shirt. As she crossed the room, he pulled it free from the waistband of his trousers, and tossed it over a chair.
His broad chest and shoulders were smoothly muscled, and in the firelight his clear olive skin gleamed like oiled silk. A scattering of crisp, dark body hair vee’d down to a trim waist and lean hips.
Her mouth went dry.
She dropped the bedclothes on to the settee and turned to escape, only to find that, either by accident or design, he was blocking her way.
Looking anywhere but at him, she managed, ‘There are plenty of towels in the bathroom cupboard. If you want anything else let me know.’
‘To save me wandering into your room by mistake, I’d better check where the bathroom is.’
Steadfastly ignoring the first half of the sentence, she told him, ‘It’s the door facing you at the end of the landing. You can use it first.’
Without moving, he said lazily, ‘Then I’ll say goodnight.’
‘Goodnight.’
She made to brush past him, and gasped as his fingers closed lightly around her arm. ‘You said if I wanted anything else…’
He smiled into her wide, scared eyes, and traced her mouth with his free hand, gently parting her lips to rub the pad of his thumb over her pearly teeth. ‘Do you have a spare toothbrush? I seem to have mislaid mine.’
‘There’s one in the bathroom cabinet.’ Tearing herself free, she fled.
‘Sleep well.’ His mocking injunction followed her up the stairs.
Damn him! Elizabeth thought furiously, as she hurried into her room and closed the door. He’d done that deliberately to rout and unsettle her.
During the past couple of years she’d almost managed to convince herself that the chemistry between them couldn’t have been nearly as powerful as she’d imagined; that if they ever met again it would be gone and she would be free.
But, shaken to the soul, she was forced to admit that she’d been abysmally wrong; it was still there, drawing her as strongly as ever. And, despite her attempts to pretend otherwise, he almost certainly knew it. That was the real danger…
Her mind a mass of seething emotions, she had just started to undress when she heard the stair treads creak beneath Quinn’s weight, and his light footsteps on the oak-floored landing.
She waited, her heart in her mouth. After a second or two she heard the bathroom door open and close, then, faintly, the sound of running water as the shower was turned on.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she finished undressing, pulled on her nightie and, sitting at her dressing-table, began to take the pins from her hair.
In the mirror her oval face appeared pale and pinched, and her eyes, a clear dark grey with no hint of blue, held a look of trepidation, as if seeing Quinn again had killed all her hard-won confidence.
Five years ago, ensnared by a sexuality of such dark power that she had been unable to free herself, she had thought that loving him, wanting him, was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.
Instead, it had almost destroyed her.
Could still destroy her…
As she shied away from the thought, she heard him leave the bathroom. A few seconds later she froze as, instead of going on to the stairs, his footsteps stopped outside her door.
All the internal doors had old-fashioned wooden latches and boasted neither locks nor bolts. Suppose he just walked in?
She was holding her breath when his knuckles rapped gently against the wood.
‘What do you want?’ Even to her own ears her voice sounded thin and scared.
‘Just letting you know the bathroom’s free.’
Elizabeth felt sure she heard him laugh softly as he carried on down the stairs.
When she’d pulled herself together enough to venture out, everything was quiet and the living room was in darkness.
Somewhat reassured, she washed her face and hands and cleaned her teeth before going to bed.
Her bedroom curtains hadn’t been drawn across, and Elizabeth opened reluctant eyes to a grey morning that still held lingering traces of fog.
As, dazed and anxious, she wondered what had jolted her from sleep, th
e memory of the previous night suddenly flooded back, explaining the feeling of apprehension that lay like a weight on her mind.
But before she could get her thoughts into any kind of order there was a tap at the door. She jerked upright just as it opened to admit Quinn carrying a tray of tea and toast.
He was wearing well-cut casual trousers and an olive-green sweater. Freshly showered and shaved, his dark hair parted on the left and brushed back, his eyes clear and sparkling with health, he looked breathtakingly handsome and virile.
‘Good morning.’ His greeting sounded easy, almost friendly.
Her mouth compressed, she said, ‘I’d rather you didn’t just walk in like that.’
‘I did knock,’ he pointed out. ‘Twice. And as we’re married it’s quite decent.’
When she refused to rise to the bait, he queried, ‘I hope you slept well?’
This time she did rise, answering decidedly and quite untruthfully, ‘Very well.’
With so much on her mind she had been unable to settle, and, thoughts going round and round like an unstoppable carousel, she had tossed and turned restlessly until the early hours of the morning.
Only when a grey dawn was filtering in, and she could hear the faint sounds of London stirring into life, had she slept.
Stooping, he settled the tray across her knees.
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was cool and dismissive, and her glance at the door said clearly, I’d like you to go now.
Choosing to ignore her tacit request, he sat down on the edge of the bed and reached to pour the tea.
For the first time she noticed the tray was set for two. Hurriedly, she said, ‘I’d prefer you to take it back and I’ll come downstairs.’
Putting his own cup on the bedside table, he raised a quizzical brow. ‘I presume that’s because I’m planning to join you?’
‘I’d rather you didn’t.’
He studied the tumble of dark silky hair, the demure nightdress. ‘There’s no need to worry; after all, I’m fully dressed, and you look positively Victorian.’
When she said nothing, he asked ironically, ‘Don’t you and Beaumont ever have breakfast in bed?’
‘I don’t eat in bed as a rule,’ she informed him coldly.
‘Then make this an exception.’ He reached for the toast rack.
Marriage on Trial Page 5