Husband for Real

by Catherine George

  ‘I’ve been getting anonymous phone calls,’ she said breathlessly, avoiding amused grey eyes. ‘James assumed you were the culprit.’

  ‘And who, may I ask, is James?’

  ‘He called to discuss the divorce.’

  There was a pause. ‘Are you talking about your husband?’ said Anthony in outrage. ‘Why the blazes did you invite him to your place?’

  ‘I didn’t do that,’ she retorted, struggling to keep her temper. ‘Anyway, I can’t talk now, Anthony. I’ll—I’ll ring you later.’ She put the phone down to find James eavesdropping shamelessly.

  ‘Sorry about that, Rose,’ he said, shrugging. ‘I heard dead silence on the line for a minute—’

  ‘Shock at hearing a man where Anthony least expected one,’ said Rose tightly.

  ‘I thought it was your stalker. I hope I haven’t made things difficult for you,’ James added, with such patent insincerity Rose clenched her teeth.

  ‘Not at all,’ she said crisply. ‘I’ll show you out.’ She marched down the steep flight of stairs ahead of him. ‘I’m glad we’ve cleared things up at last. Henry will keep you up to speed on the divorce. Goodbye, James.’

  ‘Wait.’ He stood close in the small lobby, his eyes intent on hers. ‘Will you really be happy, Rose?’

  She dropped her eyes. ‘My life is nothing to do with you any more.’

  He smiled slowly. ‘After meeting you again I somehow find it hard to get my head round that. Goodnight,’ he added, a caressing note in his voice which made Rose unwilling to trust her own as she opened the door to let him out.

  ‘Lock up securely,’ James ordered, as he went out into the cobbled street. ‘Disconnect your phone and get some rest.’

  Easier said than done, thought Rose, almost tearful with resentment as she got ready for bed. After years of believing she was over James Sinclair, the discovery that she was anything but was no preparation for a good night’s sleep. She was an adult now, for heaven’s sake, not a starry-eyed teenager to be bowled over by a kiss. Rose groaned in despair. Divorcing James Sinclair might be easy enough, but trying to forget she’d ever been married to him would be harder than ever now she’d met up with him again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ROSE felt on edge all next day, half expecting to see James Sinclair walk in every time the shop door opened. But when there was no sign of him by the time she locked up at five-thirty, she shut herself in her office, mortified by her own disappointment.

  As punishment for her absurdity she forced herself to do twice her usual session of paperwork, then had a shower and dressed in faded old jeans and yellow sweatshirt, but paid close attention to hair and face afterwards, just in case James reappeared on her doorstep later.

  Rose tidied her sitting room at top speed, threw a salad together, switched on her television and sat down on the sofa to eat her supper, with one of the newest arrivals on the bestseller list beside her. If James did come—not that she really thought for a moment that he would, of course—she would convey the perfect picture of someone enjoying a cosy evening, perfectly happy with her own company.

  She had barely started on her salad when her private doorbell rang, and a triumphant smile curved her mouth as she pushed the tray aside. Elation surged inside her as she ran downstairs, then evaporated sharply when she opened the door.

  ‘Anthony!’ exclaimed Rose.

  He eyed her truculently. ‘I waited up for hours for you to ring me back last night. When you didn’t I decided to make a personal visit today instead. May I come in, or would I be intruding?’

  ‘No you wouldn’t,’ she said crisply, and turned to go ahead of him up the stairs. ‘I was in the middle of supper. Shall I make some for you?’

  ‘No, thanks,’ he said, his mood lightening when he spotted a tray very obviously laid for one. ‘Marcus is meeting me at Orsini’s for dinner shortly. But you carry on with your meal, of course.’

  ‘It won’t spoil. I’ll eat it later.’ In peace, she almost added. ‘You didn’t tell me you were coming tonight.’

  ‘I drove down on impulse,’ he said quickly.

  Other people’s impulses were playing havoc with her life at the moment, thought Rose irritably, and gave her visitor a sweet little smile. ‘Are you taking a chance on having your room free tonight at the Kings Head, then?’

  ‘I rang them first to make sure,’ he admitted, flushing. ‘I knew you’d be busy in the shop so I didn’t bother to interrupt with a phone call.’

  But he’d rung Marcus. And booked a meal at Orsini’s. So Anthony had obviously called on her unannounced because he’d hoped, or feared, to catch her entertaining James. ‘I might not have been in,’ she pointed out.

  ‘In which case I would have rung from the hotel and left a message on your machine,’ he said, after a pause that convinced Rose he’d only just thought of it.

  ‘So,’ she said briskly, ‘is there a specific reason for seeing me tonight, Anthony?’

  ‘Yes, a very important one.’ He stood very erect, squaring his shoulders in a mannerism Rose knew well. ‘I came to let you know I’ve engaged my own solicitor, so you needn’t worry your head about it any more. Emerson will see to the divorce proceedings.’

  Rose stared him in outrage. ‘What did you say?’

  His eyes flickered. ‘I’ve simply set the ball rolling for you.’

  Her eyes flashed ominously. ‘I can’t believe you did that without consulting me, Anthony.’

  His chin came up. ‘It seemed to me you’d go on shilly-shallying indefinitely if I didn’t take a hand in it. Anyway, it’s all settled with Emerson now—’

  ‘Then get it unsettled,’ she snapped. ‘I’m putting everything in Henry Beresford’s hands on Monday.’

  ‘Henry’s semi-retired,’ said Anthony impatiently. ‘Besides, he’s not experienced in divorce. Emerson will get it sorted out far more quickly.’

  ‘Not in my case,’ said Rose, ice dripping from every word. ‘I wouldn’t dream of hurting Henry, which, in case you’ve forgotten, would also hurt Minerva. In fact, Anthony, I deeply resent your interference.’

  His colour deepened hectically. ‘I meant it as help, Rose, not interference.’

  ‘Really! And when, exactly, did you decide to consult this Mr Emerson?’

  ‘Today. Though I don’t see the relevance—’

  ‘Do you think I’m stupid, Anthony?’ Rose eyed him with scorn. ‘You discovered that James was here last night and acted on another of these impulses of yours.’

  ‘All right! Now you’ve brought the subject up, what exactly was he doing here?’ demanded Anthony, a vein standing out on his temple. ‘Do you expect me to believe that after ten years he just turned up on your doorstep out of the blue?’

  Rose looked at him in distaste. ‘I don’t expect you to believe anything.’

  ‘So you were lying—’

  ‘I am not lying,’ she said, with such icy emphasis Anthony Garrett backed away a little.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, raking a hand through his hair.

  Which showed Rose how upset he was. Anthony was particular about his hair.

  ‘You’d better go,’ she said coldly. ‘Otherwise you’ll be late for Marcus.’

  ‘Look, I admit I went about this the wrong way. We’ll discuss it tomorrow night, Rose.’ He smiled cajolingly. ‘I’ll take you up on your recent offer of dinner here instead of going out.’

  ‘Certainly not!’

  ‘All right,’ he said quickly, looking crestfallen, ‘let’s keep to a meal at Orsini’s, then, and talk over coffee here later.’

  Rose sighed impatiently. ‘You don’t understand, Anthony. I can’t see you at all tomorrow.’

  He glowered at her. ‘Are you doing this just to punish me over the solicitor?’

  ‘It’s part of it. But I also resent the fact that you assume I’m at your beck and call just because you take it into your head to come down this weekend,’ she said hotly, then tensed at the look of rage on his fac
e.

  ‘It’s this husband of yours, isn’t it?’ he demanded. ‘You’re seeing him tomorrow, I suppose!’

  ‘Don’t be childish,’ said Rose, and regretted it when Anthony seized her by the shoulders and shook her so hard her teeth rattled.

  ‘You were lying when you said you hadn’t seen him all this time,’ he snarled. ‘After ten years he suddenly turns up last night? Do you think I’m a fool? No doubt you slept with him for old times’ sake—’

  ‘Let her go,’ rapped a hard, frozen voice.

  ‘And who the hell are you?’ said Anthony in outrage, his hands tightening on Rose’s shoulders as he glared at the tall man standing in the doorway.

  ‘I think you know very well who I am. My name’s Sinclair. Take your hands off my wife.’ James shook his head at Rose. ‘You shouldn’t leave your door ajar. Any riff-raff could have got in. And obviously did.’

  Scarlet to the roots of his hair, Anthony Garrett clenched the hands he’d dropped from Rose’s shoulders, so patently wanting to hit James that Rose felt a fleeting pang of sympathy for his frustration. But something in James’s attitude warned that her enraged assailant would do well to make himself scarce.

  ‘You’d better go, Anthony,’ she advised.

  ‘Very well.’ He pulled himself together with difficulty. ‘I’ll—I’ll ring you tomorrow, Rose. When you’re in a more reasonable frame of mind.’

  ‘I’ll see you out,’ she said promptly, but James put out a peremptory hand.

  ‘No. Stay where you are, Rose. I’ll see your visitor off the premises. And make sure your door’s locked securely while I’m at it.’

  Rose slumped down on the sofa as her visitors went downstairs. She tried to make out what was being said, but all was ominously quiet before the outer door banged shut.

  ‘Are you all right, Rose?’ said James, when he rejoined her.

  ‘Yes.’ She rubbed at her shoulders, smiling ruefully. ‘A bit bruised, but otherwise suffering mainly from temper.’

  ‘Because the bastard manhandled you?’

  ‘No. Though I didn’t care for that very much, either.’ Her eyes flashed coldly. ‘Anthony made a colossal mistake today. He actually engaged his own solicitor to see to the divorce. Without consulting me.’

  ‘Brave man!’ James sat down beside her, eyeing her closely. ‘You objected?’

  ‘Of course I objected,’ she retorted. ‘I refuse to be pushed into anything.’

  His eyes gleamed. ‘So you’re not as keen on the idea of divorce as your friend believes?’

  Her chin lifted. ‘On the contrary. I’m very keen on it indeed. But my aunt’s husband handles all my legal affairs, so naturally I’ll ask Henry to see to the divorce.’ She frowned. ‘That was a rather dramatic appearance just now, by the way. What brings you here again so soon, James?’

  ‘I happened to be passing—’ He grinned at the scathing look she gave him and raised his right hand. ‘I was, I swear. I booked dinner at the Italian restaurant and I was quite literally on my way past your shop when I saw your private door was ajar. So mindful of your stalker, I came rushing to your rescue. And not before time, either,’ he added grimly. ‘Your friend looked ready to do you a mischief.’

  ‘He was just jealous,’ said Rose dismissively.

  James sat back, arms folded, looking smug. ‘Of me?’

  ‘Yes. He didn’t take kindly to your presence here last night.’

  He smiled evilly. ‘He didn’t take very kindly to it tonight, either.’

  ‘Do you blame him? For a moment there I thought you were going to knock him down.’

  ‘So did I.’ James shook his head in wonder. ‘It’s not a habit of mine to go round throwing punches, but I came very close with your little friend.’

  ‘James!’ protested Rose. ‘Anthony’s not little.’

  ‘He’s smaller than me.’ He sighed regretfully. ‘Which meant I couldn’t indulge myself by throwing him down your stairs.’

  ‘Are you into violence a lot these days?’

  ‘No. And in the past only on your behalf, if you recall.’

  ‘I can fight my own battles, thanks just the same.’ She looked at her abandoned supper. ‘What time’s your reservation?’

  ‘Half an hour ago.’

  ‘Ring them and explain.’

  James eyed her tray disparagingly. ‘I’ve got a better idea. I know there’s no point in asking you to keep me company at the restaurant, but they do food to take out. Ask them to send dinner for two here.’ He smiled into her startled eyes. ‘No one will know exactly who you’re entertaining, Rose.’

  ‘True. But at Orsini’s they’ll know who I’m not entertaining. Anthony’s dining there tonight with his son.’

  ‘Public opinion has always been such a huge thing with you,’ he said impatiently. ‘At university I had to make a total spectacle of myself before you’d agree to let the world know we were—’

  ‘Going out together.’

  ‘Only we didn’t go out very much.’

  ‘Better if we had,’ said Rose bleakly.

  James changed tack. ‘Right. If you won’t go out, and you won’t order anything in, there’s a third option.’

  She eyed him suspiciously. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Come down to the cottage and I’ll cater for you there.’

  Rose’s first reaction was to refuse. Last night was meant to be a one-off, she reminded herself, since James Sinclair represented such a clear and present danger to her peace of mind. But she was sorely tempted by his offer, just the same. After the excitement of the past half-hour an evening on her own would be anticlimax. She smiled a little. ‘Is having dinner together accepted behaviour for people about to divorce?’

  He shrugged. ‘No idea. Your letter started me on a bit of research to get up to date on the subject, but I don’t remember any veto on a friendly evening spent in each other’s company.’ His eyes locked with hers. ‘We were good friends, once, Rose. Did I alienate you too much, all those years ago, for us to be friends again?’

  She met the look head-on. ‘I certainly thought you had at the time.’

  ‘Do you still feel the same?’

  Rose shook her head. ‘Ten years is a long time to nourish hatred. I couldn’t sustain the emotion indefinitely so I concentrated on forgetting you instead.’

  ‘I hope you succeeded better than I did.’ His mouth twisted. ‘When I finally calmed down enough to engage my brain all those years ago I soon realised the truth of what you told me last night. No one can make someone else fall in love. I rushed back from Scotland to tell you that, to say that I loved my little wife so much I didn’t care why we’d got married as long as we stayed that way. But the bird had flown.’

  ‘To look after a couple of toddlers for the rest of the summer,’ said Rose huskily, and looked away, not wanting him to see how much his words had moved her. ‘It takes a lot of energy to look after children all day. I was so tired most nights I fell asleep the moment I got to bed.’ Which told him she hadn’t lain sleepless, agonising over the treatment he’d dished out, for the simple reason that she’d made very sure she was too exhausted to stay awake.

  ‘By that time I’d been accepted by the bank I joined straight from college,’ said James, watching her like a hawk. ‘Which was another reason why I went rushing back to you. I wanted to share my pleasure in getting my first job. Maybe you didn’t realise it, Rose, but when your aunt eventually told me you wanted nothing more to do with me, you had your revenge in full.’

  ‘Exactly as I intended.’ Rose shivered suddenly. ‘But I don’t want to drag all that up again. Let’s change the subject.’

  ‘Done. Come and spend the evening at the cottage. It’s very peaceful on that stretch of river.’ He got to his feet, his eyes gleaming in a way that did serious damage to her heartbeat. ‘All you’re agreeing to is a scratch meal, Rose, and a couple of hours of catching up on our lives.’

  ‘Why not?’ she said casually, ignoring fierce ur
gings of caution from her brain. ‘I’ll drive; you give directions. I haven’t been down that way for years. It’s a long time since I went walking by the river with Mark Cummings.’

  ‘Does this mean you’re actually willing to be seen in my company as far as the public car park?’ said James caustically.

  ‘No.’ Rose gave him a seraphic smile. ‘There’s a back door in the store room behind my office. My car’s parked just outside.’

  ‘So you can smuggle me out with no one the wiser!’

  She bristled. ‘Amusing though it may be to you, James, I don’t keep my car in the back for secrecy. Like everyone else with a shop in the arcade here, it’s merely the most convenient place to park.’

  The small, stone-built cottage James directed her to was reached by a narrow track leading off a road so minor they almost missed it in the dark.

  ‘I had a hell of a job finding it the first time,’ he said, as Rose came to a stop beside the house. ‘There were no lights on like this when I arrived, so even with the map I drove past several times in the dark before I made it. But if you want peace and quiet this is certainly the place to come.’

  ‘Is that why you came here?’

  ‘No. I came to see you.’ James unlocked a door beneath a stone lintel, and ushered Rose into a welcoming, lamp-lit room with an inglenook fireplace. A laptop sat on a large leather-topped desk beneath the front window, and the chairs and sofa grouped around the room were well-worn and comfortable.

  ‘This is lovely,’ said Rose, as James stooped to light the fire.

  ‘To add a little cheer,’ he announced, as realistic flames danced on equally realistic logs.

  ‘Not town gas as far out as this, surely,’ said Rose.

  ‘Bottled.’ James grinned. ‘Nick’s wife likes the look of a fire, but not the mess that goes with it.’

  ‘She doesn’t object to the isolation?’

  ‘No. They’re still at the honeymoon stage. They both work hard during the week, and escape down here whenever they can just to be together in peace. Like most normal newly-weds,’ he added deliberately.

  ‘We were studying too hard to be normal newly-weds,’ said Rose, refusing to rise. ‘Our marriage was only on paper. We never did live together properly.’