by Sara Craven
Marin shuddered. ‘I think I’ll stick to water.’
But half an hour later, she felt a total fraud. ‘I’ll cancel that appointment and go to work,’ she told herself with determination, putting on her robe and heading for the sitting room to use the phone.
She was checking the surgery number when she heard the hall door close, and assumed it was Lynne back to check up on her.
‘Look,’ she began. ‘You’re taking the mother-hen thing too far.’
‘And you, sweetheart,’ Jake said from the doorway, ‘are getting your genders confused.’
Marin gasped, a hand flying to pull the edges of her robe closer. ‘What—what do you want?’
He strolled forward, dark-suited, his silk tie loosened, his face cool, unreadable. ‘You.’
Her heart lurched, but she faced him defiantly. ‘I don’t think so. Even you can’t be that desperate for a woman.’
His brows lifted coldly. ‘Just who are you insulting by that remark, sweetheart? Yourself or me?’
‘I meant,’ she said swiftly, ‘that you must have better things to do elsewhere.’
‘Possibly,’ he said. ‘But I didn’t come here to make a pass at you and have it rejected.’
‘Then why?’
‘Because, before you vanished into the wilds of wherever, I told you we needed to talk.’
‘And I made it clear that was unnecessary.’
‘Also because Lynne told me you were ill,’ he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘And I was—concerned.’
‘Then Lynne shouldn’t have fussed,’ she said. ‘And as I’m quite all right again, you’ve no need to trouble yourself.’
‘You don’t think so?’ He looked at her reflectively. ‘Maybe you should cast your mind back a few weeks to our never-to-be-repeated night together. There could be a very different reason for your malaise.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, my sweet, that unless you were taking the contraceptive pill you and I had unprotected sex—more than once.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘Usually I take my own precautions, but, as love-making was never supposed to feature on the agenda that weekend, I was completely unprepared. As I now suspect you were too. So there could be—consequences.’
For a moment, she stared at him, her mind reeling. Then she said huskily, ‘No, it’s not possible. I don’t believe it.’
‘Then let’s see if your faith is justified,’ he said. He took a flat packet from his inside pocket and tossed it to her. ‘Pop into the bathroom, if you will, and put both our minds at rest.’
Marin stared down at the pregnancy-testing kit, her heart beating like a drum in sheer panic. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No—I can’t.’
‘Why not? The instructions seem perfectly clear. And I certainly can’t do it for you.’
‘All right, then, I won’t.’ She lifted her chin. ‘You have no right to march in here, giving me orders.’
‘I wish to know whether or not you’re carrying my child,’ he said. ‘I’d say that’s well within my rights. So, please do as I ask. For both our sakes.’
Their eyes met, clashed. Then Marin turned and stalked off to the bathroom.
She could simply throw the kit away when she was alone, she thought, and tell him the result was negative. That he could leave with a clear conscience.
Except that she needed to allay the sudden terrifying doubt in her own mind. Reassure herself that the frantic mental sums she’d already been doing were all wrong that her period was often late, and that she really was fine, with nothing to fear.
Above all she needed to watch him walk away and know that she would never have to experience the hurt of seeing him again.
Peace of mind, she told herself, in a little box.
When she finally returned to the living room, Jake needed to take only one look at her white face and quivering lips. He was silent for a moment, then sighed.
‘That settles it,’ he said. ‘Now we really do have to talk.’ As he walked towards her, she took a step back and saw his mouth tighten. He took her hand and led her to the sofa.
She tried to free herself. ‘Leave me alone.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ His voice was quite gentle as he drew her down beside him. ‘Sit down before you fall down.’ He paused. ‘I suppose our first priority is to tell your mother and stepfather. Find out how soon they can get here.’
She stared at him, mute with horror at all the additional implications of this discovery. The thought of having to tell Barbara and Derek what a total mess she’d made of her life—to inflict such a terrible disappointment—made her cringe inside.
Confessing to Lynne would be just as bad, but she knew her stepsister would help her, get her through whatever needed to be done. She felt sick all over again at the prospect.
She said, stumbling over the words. ‘I’d rather not—tell them.’
‘I’m sure,’ he said drily. ‘I’m not looking forward to telling my mother, either. But it has to be done.’ He paused. ‘It will have to be a special licence, and the local registrar, of course, and we need to set the date as soon as possible.’
The words swam in her head, making no sense. No sense at all.
She stared at him, ‘Please—what are you talking about?’ she whispered.
‘About our wedding, naturally,’ he said with a touch of impatience. ‘We’re having a baby, Marin, so we’re going to get married. And that’s all there is to it.’
‘But you’re not the marrying kind.’ Her protest was instant and unthinking.
‘Perhaps not,’ he agreed. ‘And I certainly had no plans for fatherhood, either. How quickly life can change.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ She made a little half-helpless, half-impatient gesture. ‘No one has to get married these days—not for this kind of reason.’
‘Then I must be curiously old-fashioned,’ Jake said icily. ‘Because I have no intention of allowing my firstborn to be a bastard.’
My firstborn…
Oh God, she thought, wanting to cry. Oh, God.
She didn’t look at him. Her voice was a stranger’s. ‘You’re overlooking the alternative. There—there doesn’t have to be a baby at all.’
‘I’m overlooking nothing,’ he returned shortly. ‘And you’re not going down that path, Marin, not even if I have to chain you to my wrist until it’s too late. Whatever they may say, it’s not an easy option. And we’re not taking the risk.’
‘But we can’t be married, either.’ She felt herself shrinking into her corner of the sofa. ‘We—we hardly know each other.’
‘Not in terms of weeks, months or years, perhaps,’ he agreed. His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘But in one important area we’ve proved we’re entirely compatible, if a little careless.’
‘I told you—I’d been drinking. I—I didn’t realise what I was doing.’
‘Well, you’re sober now,’ he said softly. He slipped off his jacket, threw it over the arm of the sofa. Undid his tie. ‘Why don’t we adjourn to the bedroom and put your interesting theory to the test?’
‘No!’ The word choked out of her. ‘Don’t you dare touch me.’
His brows drew together. ‘As I remarked just now, how quickly life can change,’ he said, half to himself. ‘I must ask Graham where he gets his booze. It must be amazing stuff to have managed to overcome, even for a few hours, your aversion to me.’
‘So I made a terrible mistake,’ she went on hoarsely, ignoring his loaded comment. ‘That’s no reason to wreck the rest of my life.’
He was silent for a moment. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘And for that I’m more sorry than you can imagine. I should, of course, have taken more care of you. Protected you from any consequences. I blame myself entirely.’
He sighed abruptly. ‘But at least I can guarantee that your future sufferings will be endured in a reasonable degree of comfort.’
‘Am I supposed to find that reassuring?’ she asked bitterly.
He shrugged. ‘What e
lse can I tell you? I’m healthy. I don’t smoke, don’t do drugs, and have never, in spite of some intense provocation, lifted my hand to a woman. Nor,’ he added deliberately, ‘do I drink to excess.’
She flushed angrily. ‘And that’s supposed to be sufficient basis for marriage?’
He was leaning back, totally at ease, long legs stretched out in front of him. ‘It’s a beginning,’ he said. ‘I imagine you don’t require me to go down on one knee and express my undying devotion.’
‘No,’ Marin said stonily. ‘I see no need for unnecessary lies.’
‘But there may be times when you won’t want the unvarnished truth from me, either.’ His gaze was sardonic. ‘Therefore, can I be sure that you won’t probe too deeply if I tell you I’m working late?’
‘No.’ Her throat felt as if a hand had closed round it, crushing the life from her. ‘Although it could make life difficult for Lynne, if she has to back up your story.’
He said flatly, ‘Lynne will no longer be working for me.’
Marin shot out of her corner. ‘You mean, you’re firing her?’ she demanded hotly. ‘God, that’s so unfair. This isn’t her fault.’
‘Oh, calm down,’ Jake said wearily. ‘I’m promoting her to associate director. It includes a salary raise, and a much better benefits package all round. It’s been on the cards for a while, and she thoroughly deserves it, but she’ll be bloody hard to replace. So you’re not the only loser in all this, my sweet.’
‘Don’t call me that!’
‘What would you prefer?’ he enquired mockingly. ‘My darling? My one and only love?’
She sank back against the cushions again. ‘Please,’ she said quietly. ‘Please—don’t.’
‘Then I’ll stick to Marin,’ he said. ‘On one condition—that from now on you call me Jake.’ He added almost casually. ‘You can start practising this afternoon when you meet my mother.’
She stared at him. ‘You have a mother?’
‘Of course,’ he returned. ‘How did you imagine I got here? I think the pair of us have exploded the stork myth pretty thoroughly.’
She said defensively, ‘I didn’t realise you had any relatives.’
‘I also have three godparents, two aunts, an uncle, plus their spouses and various cousins.’ He paused. ‘But I suggest we restrict the wedding to immediate family only.’
She looked down at her hands clenched tightly in her lap. ‘Surely there’s some arrangement other than marriage we could reach—if you really want to acknowledge you’re the baby’s father?’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Agreed access in return for child support, I suppose?’ He spoke with a kind of cool implacability. ‘I’m afraid I’m not prepared to settle for a couple of hours every fortnight, depending on your convenience. I’ve watched it happen in the lives of people I know, and it hasn’t been pretty.’
His eyes met hers. ‘My child will have a stable home and be cared for by both its parents. Because the baby’s welfare is all that matters, and our personal feelings have to take second place.’
‘And what happens when the baby’s old enough to realise he’s the only reason that his parents are together?’ Her mouth was dry—so dry. ‘That—that they don’t love each other?’
Jake shrugged. ‘We cross that bridge when we come to it. Or we go back to square one and pretend like crazy.’
‘Beginning with your mother, I suppose?’ Marin bit her lip.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I intend to tell her the truth. She moved out of the Manor to a house on the edge of the village when Dad died three years ago, but she looks after things on the estate for me and acts as my hostess when necessary, so we see a lot of each other.’ He paused, adding flatly, ‘And she’s not easy to fool.’
Manor? Marin thought, startled. Estate? That didn’t sound like the weekend glamour-pad for entertaining his girlfriends that she’d imagined. On the contrary, it held new and even more disturbing implications which she would have to consider later. When she was alone.
She said unevenly, ‘And my mother—my stepfather—what do I say to them?’
‘Tell them what seems best,’ he said. ‘But they could find the situation easier to accept if you were able to convince them that ours was a love match instead of a case of force majeure.
‘And you might try that same approach to Sadie,’ he added. ‘She’s now the housekeeper at the Manor, but she used to be my nanny, and she doesn’t mince her words when she decides I’ve overstepped the mark. However, she has a romantic soul, and might be slightly mollified if she thought we’d been carried away by our mutual passion—even though it won’t spare me the tongue-lashing of the century.’
‘And for how long would I be expected to maintain this farce?’ Marin felt as if she was dying inside but she managed a flash of her old spirit.
‘I’d say until I allow my obvious and unforgivable failings as a husband to destroy the glow of married bliss,’ he said cynically. ‘I won’t make you wait too long.’ He gave her a level look. ‘So, do I take it my honourable proposal has been accepted? For the baby’s sake?’
She was silent for a moment, then she said very quietly, ‘Yes—for the baby. But for no other reason. I want to make that totally clear.’
He shrugged. ‘As daylight.’
‘But I can’t meet your mother today,’ she went on. ‘I have a doctor’s appointment at two-thirty.’
‘Then I’ll go with you,’ he said pleasantly. ‘And we can drive down to the country afterwards and face Mother together.’
He glanced at his watch and rose, picking up his jacket and tie. ‘Now, I must get back to the office.’ He paused. ‘Do you want me to say anything to Lynne?’
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘Oh God, no.’
He nodded. ‘Then I’ll leave it to you. But please don’t let it slip your mind,’ he added evenly. ‘And when I come back at two to collect you, Marin, make sure you’re here.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I will be.’ Her smile hurt. ‘After all, what real choice do I have?’
‘None,’ Jake said harshly. ‘But, in case you’ve forgotten, that applies to us both.’
She was aware of him crossing the room. His footsteps in the hall. The outer door closing.
Then and only then, as silence closed in on her and she could be quite sure she was alone, she buried her face in her hands and stayed without moving, crouched in her corner of the sofa, for a very long time.
CHAPTER TEN
‘WHY DID YOU cancel your medical appointment?’ Jake asked as they drove out of London that afternoon.
‘It seemed pointless to ask the doctor about food poisoning when I knew the real diagnosis.’ Marin didn’t mention that she had done a second test in case, by some miracle the first result had been wrong. Nor did she tell him that, at that point, she’d cried until she had no tears left as she contemplated the bleak future awaiting her as Jake’s unwanted wife and mother of his only child.
Eventually, she’d regained a measure of composure and had done something about her appearance too. She’d been appalled when she’d looked in the bedroom mirror and saw herself as he must have done—the pale, drawn face, the lank hair and elderly dressing-gown.
I’m amazed he didn’t run out screaming, she thought wanly.
But then her lack of physical attraction no longer mattered. Not when he’d made it clear his sole concern was the tiny life they’d unintentionally created together.
So she showered, washed her hair, then dressed in a pale blue denim skirt, and a sleeveless white top. She made discreet use of concealer and blusher to disguise her pallor.
Now if only they’d invent a cosmetic called ‘happy’, she thought, it would make pretending much easier.
She’d also heated some soup and managed to keep a whole bowlful down, which was quite an achievement, considering the state of nervous tension she was under.
‘Well, it doesn’t really matter. When you get to Chelsea you’ll be seeing my doctor, anyway,’ Jake
said, frowning. ‘I’ll call him tomorrow.’
‘Isn’t that a little soon?’ she asked tautly.
‘No.’ He sent her an unsmiling glance. ‘Because you’re moving in with me tonight.’
There was a silence, then Marin said unevenly, ‘Please don’t make me do this. I’m fine where I am with Lynne.’
‘And I prefer you to be under my roof where I can keep an eye on you.’ He added flatly, ‘Anyway, Lynne won’t be staying at the flat much longer. She and Mike have found their own place, and it’s ready to move into.’
‘They didn’t tell me.’ Only a month, she thought, but everything was changing, the ground shifting under her feet.
‘They were probably waiting until you felt better.’
‘Presumably you don’t feel the same need to be considerate.’
‘It’s hardly inconsiderate to want to take care of you,’ Jake retorted. ‘And, as we’re going to be married, living with me beforehand is no big deal.’ He added drily, ‘Lynne and Mike certainly don’t think so, anyway.’
She thought with swift desolation, ‘But they love each other…’
Aloud, she said, ‘When you say—I’ll be living with you…?’
‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘Can we be back to the vexed question of sleeping arrangements once again?’
‘Yes,’ Marin said baldly. ‘Please understand I want my own room. Before and after the wedding. Not conditional.’
There was a sudden tension in the car, flowing between them like an electric current.
But when Jake spoke he sounded relaxed, even faintly amused. ‘Now, how did I know you were going to say that?’ he asked. ‘Don’t worry, Marin. I’ve already given the appropriate instructions.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘Although, as we both know, separate rooms is hardly any guarantee of good behaviour.’
Marin felt the colour rising in her face. ‘On the contrary.’ She kept her voice steady. ‘I have no intention of making the same mistake twice.’