Bittersweet Deception

by Liz Fielding

  She ignored the threat. ‘Really? And then what? Will the satisfied Jack Wessex marry her off the gardener?’

  He looked thoughtful. ‘It’s your story, Kate. It’s up to you. Perhaps she’ll perform so well in bed that she never has to go near a kitchen again.’ His knuckles whitened as he grasped the doorknob. ‘Come on, let’s get Sam back to school.’

  * * *

  Sam’s arrival at school was something of a triumph. She attracted envious glances from friends and some were bold enough to ask for Jay’s autograph. Kate knew she was the object of similar scrutiny from assembled mothers and sisters. What, they seemed to be thinking, can such a man see in her? He slipped his arm possessively around her shoulder as they stood chatting to a group of girls, and when he looked down at her he seemed to be answering them.

  ‘Are you going to be a bridesmaid, Sam?’ one of the girls asked. Sam looked at Kate, her eyes begging her to say yes.

  ‘Of course she is,’ Jay said, filling the silence. She stared up at him. It was cruel, but then, she could hardly blame him for taking every opportunity that presented itself to twist the knife. She knew she deserved it. She had broken her own rules and fallen in love. She had given him the power to hurt her. She had thought David’s rejection when she needed him so badly had been painful. But she could never have truly loved him. She looked at his hand, the way his long fingers were locked possessively through hers. This was pain.

  They received a message from the principal, asking them to join her for tea, and Kate received her felicitations with every outward sign of pleasure and Jay assured the woman that he would be delighted to watch the school’s Christmas performance.

  Finally it was time to leave and he settled her in the front seat of the car and drove in thoughtful silence for a couple of miles until he pulled up beside a small row of shops and produced her envelope from his pocket. ‘There’s a postbox.’

  Kate ignored the envelope. ‘Forget it,’ she said with studied lightness. ‘As you said, Cathy’s story is incomplete.’ She was still smarting at his casual use of Sam as a weapon to beat her with.

  For a moment he stared at the stiff white square. Then he opened the car door and walked quickly across to the box and Kate flinched as the envelope dropped with a hollow thunk.

  * * *

  Shopping for a wedding-dress was a strange experience. The problem was that Kate couldn’t take it seriously. She knew it wasn’t going to happen. He was just drawing it out to the last minute. She was certain that Tisha must know, be part of the conspiracy to inflict the maximum pain, as she organised the details of the wedding, organised bridesmaids and flowers. Not that she betrayed, by one word out of place, that she was anything but delighted. But she had known about Sam too, and kept her own counsel.

  The two of them went into Norwich to buy a wedding-dress and Kate obediently tried on the dresses that were brought for her while Tisha made suggestions and pulled faces and finally beamed.

  ‘That’s perfect, Kate. Absolutely you.’ The simple ivory silk gown was cut in a princess line that emphasised her slight figure and added a little height. The stiff collar stood away from the neck, giving a faintly medieval air, an illusion reinforced by wide sleeves that folded back from her narrow wrists.

  ‘Will she want a veil?’ The saleswoman had quickly realised that Tish was the one to do business with.

  ‘I don’t think so. She has such a beautiful neck that it seems a pity to hide it.’ They discussed the matter at length and decided finally, without bothering her for an opinion, that her hair should be braided about her head with ribbons. She tried on shoes, regarding the silk pumps with disinterest while they argued about flowers, finally settling between them that she should carry a single long-stemmed rose.

  Kate wrote a cheque for a horrendous amount of money with a growing sense of unreality. It wasn’t happening. It wasn’t going to happen. But on Friday night Sam arrived in a chauffeur-driven limousine and was rushed into Norwich to be fitted with her dress.

  All too soon it was Saturday. The hairdresser came early and spent hours braiding her hair in a coronet about her head, weaving in narrow ribbons and leaving a knot of them to fall at the nape of her neck. Then she sat, letting Sam’s excited chatter wash over her, waiting.

  * * *

  Kate had woken with a sense of dread. She had been stupid, she knew that. But had she really done anything to deserve what he was putting her through? Until Friday evening she had believed that he would come and release her from this nightmare. Perhaps he planned to inflict the most public humiliation possible and simply not show up.

  She hadn’t seen Jay since they had taken Sam back to school. ‘I’ll stay in London,’ he had informed her. ‘There’s been enough speculation already.’

  He had telephoned her every evening and asked all the right questions. And every night she had asked him to reconsider. On the Friday evening she had begged.

  ‘If we break it off now,’ he had told her, with a chill in his voice, ‘it would be far worse than if we’d decided to live the whole thing down.’

  ‘Worse for whom?’ she demanded.

  He didn’t bother to answer. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. What?’ He covered the receiver and Kate heard only muffled voices for a moment. Then Jay said, ‘Annabel sends her love.’

  She hung up. She had no home, no job and there was Sam to consider. There was always Sam.

  * * *

  She had refused the loan of one of Tisha’s friends to give her away. She had no male relation to take her father’s place and she would stand by herself. But it felt lonely on the short drive from the house to the church without a reassuring arm to hang on to.

  The car pulled up in front of the church and Tisha and Sam were there to arrange the folds of her dress and round up all the little girls from the estate who made an enchanting posse of bridesmaids, six in all, each carrying a tiny posy of yellow rosebuds, a shade or two darker than their dresses. Sam took her place behind them and the procession was ready. Tisha gave them a last look, before hurrying to take her place inside the church. The verger gave a signal and the organist let rip.

  She could feel every eye upon her, caught sight of several smiling faces that she recognised. Everyone was looking at her. Everyone except Jay. She could see his broad, grey-clad shoulders, the thick, dark, well-groomed hair clear above anyone else. Then she was beside him and finally he glanced down.

  ‘Kate?’ The word was wrenched from him. She was hardly surprised. She had scarcely recognised her own reflection after the hairdresser had finished with her.

  She turned and lifted her head. There was a haggard look about him that deepened the hollows of his cheeks and she looked quickly away. She didn’t want to see the hunted expression in his eyes that told her only too clearly that this was all a sham. For him at least. Because for her it was real. She would never love anyone else the way she loved Jay. Once she had made her vows they would be married, and no quiet divorce when the fuss died down would ever change that for her.

  When the clergyman asked if anyone knew just cause, she held her breath. Someone would shout. Someone must shout and disclose the pretence. Her heart was hammering in her throat, but the service continued and she couldn’t say whether she was glad or sorry. Words were spoken, vows exchanged and her hand was placed in his. It was a large hand, comforting as he grasped her fingers. I should be noticing, she thought. I shall want to remember. When it’s all over I shall want to remember this. But everything moved too quickly for her to catch up and it was no time at all before the bells were ringing and they were outside surrounded by photographers and the cameramen from the Magnum newsroom and he was kissing her for all the world to see that she was his.

  Suddenly Annabel was there, stunningly beautiful, kissing her cheek. ‘Keep him happy for me, Kate,’ she murmured, and before she moved away she winked at Jay. For a moment Kate thought she would faint; only his firm grip held her on her feet.

  Finally, though, it
was over. Jay raised his top hat to the crowd gathered at the gate and walked her to the white open-topped Rolls-Royce that carried them very slowly up the drive to the front door of Fullerton Hall.

  She stepped down from the car and stared up at the beautiful rose-red brick of the facade.

  ‘Well, Mrs Warwick.’ She started at the strangeness of her name. ‘Shall I carry you over the threshold?’ His voice was not quite steady. Before she could protest he had lifted her into his arms and was walking swiftly over the bridge. At the entrance he turned once more for the cameras. For just a moment she had thought there was something more in his voice, but it was a media show to the last and as he carried her inside she struggled to her feet. He caught her hand. ‘Bear up, Kate. It will soon be over.’

  Over. It would soon be over. Lunch was a blur. She couldn’t think what she was doing marrying this man who only meant it to be for a few days…weeks…and who had spent the night before the wedding with another woman. She had put her hand up to stop her head aching, and Tisha was suddenly there.

  ‘Come on, Kate. Time to change.’

  They went upstairs to her room. Except it wasn’t her room any more. No more hiding behind a locked door. There had been no mistaking Jay’s meaning when he said he would be keeping her too busy to get into mischief. She kicked off the pretty ivory pumps and massaged her feet.

  There was a tap at the door and Nancy put her head round. ‘I’ve brought this, Kate. I saw you come up and guessed you could do with it.’ She placed the tea-tray on the little table near the window.

  ‘Oh, Nancy! Thank you. But you’re a guest today. You should be enjoying yourself.’

  ‘Oh, I am. And if I might say so you looked really beautiful in the church.’

  Tisha turned to Kate as the girl left them. ‘She’s right. You looked almost ethereal. When Jay looked at you I thought for a moment he was going to cry. I can’t tell you how happy I am that he’s found someone at last. Someone good.’ A tear slid down Kate’s cheek. ‘My dear, whatever is the matter?’

  But she didn’t tell. She made up a lot of nonsense about bridal nerves and hardly sleeping all week. All of it true enough. She changed into a simple silk shirtwaist dress in a moss and turquoise print and finally the left the sanctuary of her room.

  Jay was waiting at the foot of the stairs with Sam. They both turned as she came down the wide staircase and Jay stepped forward to take her hands. He had done that before. Just that gesture, and even the look about his eyes. But that was for those watching. It was important she remember that this was all for public consumption, nothing to do with love, and she forced herself to smile.

  Sam, bouncing with excitement, interrupted. ‘Jay says I can come and live here with you, Kate. Isn’t it wonderful?’ Her eyes were shining. Kate turned on him. It was one thing to make her life a misery, but to make promises to Sam that he had no intention of keeping was unforgivable.

  ‘You’ll always have a home with me, Sam. For as long as you need it,’ she said, keeping her eyes fixed on his. ‘Wherever that is.’

  She turned and tossed her rose to the crowd, but she didn’t see who caught it because her eyes were full of tears. Then he was whirling her through a cloud of confetti and out to the car. A huge bunch of balloons was tied to the rear bumper of the Jaguar and as they drove away there was a flurry of flashes as photographers took advantage of the last opportunity for a picture.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked finally, to break the silence.

  Jay turned to her, eyebrow raised slightly. ‘Does it matter?’ She shook her head. Of course it didn’t matter. The wedding was a nightmare, the honeymoon would be a farce. ‘Kate, about Sam: I realise—’

  She stared straight ahead. ‘It was unkind of you to raise her hopes like that, Jay. We agreed that this is a purely temporary arrangement.’

  He pulled over to the side of the road and turned to her. ‘Perhaps you’d better remind me, Kate,’ he said, very quietly, ‘because I seem to have forgotten. Just when did we agree that this marriage was to be temporary?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  STARTLED, Kate turned to find herself the object of a pair of wintry eyes. ‘I… We didn’t…’ she stammered. Then fury lent her a voice. ‘Of course it’s temporary. We both know that. I’m your pound of flesh and perhaps I deserve what you’re doing to me, but Sam doesn’t.’

  ‘Pound of flesh?’ He blenched. ‘Is that what you were offering the other night? You’ll have to forgive me if I say something extremely vulgar, because that’s the only response that fits the way I feel.’ She flinched, and with an exasperated gesture he got out of the car and freed the balloons and they drifted away over a nearby hedge. She watched them as he got back into the car, not wanting to face him, or even herself. But he didn’t start the engine and finally she was forced to turn. He was watching her, his eyes searching for an answer to some question that troubled him.

  ‘This is all about Sam, isn’t it? Are you determined to give up your own life for her? She wouldn’t want you to. Or perhaps you’re just trying to prove to the world how wonderful you are?’

  ‘You know nothing about it,’ she said dully.

  ‘Why don’t you tell me, then?’ He started the engine and moved slowly away, his eyes fixed firmly on the road. ‘We’ve a long way to go.’

  ‘It’s not very important. Only to me.’

  ‘Tell me, Kate,’ he insisted.

  So she told him. ‘My mother was a dancer. Nothing special. The same as hundreds of other girls. Good enough for the chorus of a musical. But I think she must have loved it. Then she met Dad and I arrived and that was the end of her glorious career.’ She was unaware of the sigh that escaped her lips. ‘She sent me to dance school as soon as I could walk, trying to live it all again through me, I suppose. Ballet lessons, tap, the lot. I was hopeless. No timing.’ She smiled a little ruefully as she remembered. ‘I’m afraid I was a great disappointment to her. Then when I was nine, she had Sam. And Sam was born dancing. Even in the baby class she shone. You should see her, Jay. It’s extraordinary. When she moves to music she seems to shimmer.’

  ‘How does she manage?’ he asked. ‘You can’t lip-read music.’

  ‘She isn’t totally deaf and she says…’ She glanced at him, wondering if he would believe it.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘She says that she can feel the music. Through her feet, the tips of her fingers. She’s just incredibly sensitive to vibrations, I suppose. The school couldn’t give her a scholarship, but they wouldn’t have taken her unless she was outstanding.’

  ‘Don’t worry about her fees, Kate. I’ll pay them.’

  ‘I can manage,’ she said, a little fiercely. ‘The money from the flat…’

  He glanced at her sharply. ‘You sold your home to pay for her to go to dancing school?’ His face stiffened. ‘That’s why you wanted a live-in job.’ He wasn’t asking her a question, merely answering one of his own.

  She had hardly had time to miss her parents today. Talking about her mother brought them so vividly to her mind. How much they would have loved it all today. Except if they had been alive she would have been married to David and there would have been another life altogether. For a moment she wondered what it would have been like and realised with a slight shock that she couldn’t even recall his face.

  ‘What happened to your parents?’ he asked, after a while.

  ‘They were killed in a car accident. It was foggy, Dad missed the road. But Sam was thrown clear…’ Her voice was shaking and she stopped until she regained control. ‘At first they thought she was unhurt. Then her hearing began to deteriorate.’

  Aware of disturbing painful memories, Jay left her in peace and concentrated on the long drive into London.

  * * *

  London should have been fun. She had lived there all her life, but it had never been like this. It began that first morning of their married life with a trip to a jeweller’s.

  ‘It’s late, I know, but I thou
ght you’d rather choose your own ring.’ He laid her hand across his. ‘Such slender fingers.’ He kissed each one, making her blush before the serious black-clad figure of the manager. But he had missed no opportunity to flirt with her when there was someone to witness him in the act.

  When she had realised he was taking her to his house in London she had been astonished and had said so.

  ‘I thought you were desperate to avoid publicity.’

  ‘There’s publicity,’ he said, his face darkening slightly, ‘and there’s publicity. If they want to gossip about us, we’ll let them. They can have as many pictures as they like of us looking deliriously happy.’ He glanced at her. ‘I do realise that you’re not deliriously happy, Kate, but it would help if you could make an effort. They’ll soon get fed up with it, believe me. Happiness doesn’t sell newspapers.’

  So when he kissed her fingers, she knew it was for effect and, firmly ignoring the desperate pull of desire, she allowed him to choose a solitaire diamond for her. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She would return it to him when the charade was over, but for now she would enjoy the pleasure of seeing it on her finger and making believe to the world that everything was as perfect as the stone.

  ‘Quite lovely, if I may say so. An excellent choice.’ The jeweller managed a smile of surprising warmth and Jay regarded him with approval.

  ‘My sentiments exactly,’ he said, and raised her hand to his lips. ‘Come on, Kate. It’s time for you to do some shopping.’

  He drove her to a boutique in Knightsbridge. ‘Start here.’ He handed her a list and an envelope full of banknotes. ‘By the time you’ve finished here there’ll be a car with a driver waiting for you. You have accounts at the stores on this list. Buy everything you want.’

  ‘But, Jay…’ she protested.

  But the teasing warmth that he had displayed for the jeweller was no longer in evidence. They were alone and he was abrupt. ‘We’ll be in London for at least a month and I don’t want to see you in the same thing twice.’