With This Ring
Page 14
She gasped as he gripped her arms and pulled her from the pillow into his arms. His face was white, his eyes dark by contrast. She felt the power in his fingertips, in every part of him. She had hurled the words at him in fury, knowing all the time that his nightmare had been real, just as hers was now.
“I won’t even answer that. Facts remain facts, and the most important one now is that you’re my wife, and you will remain so. I apologise for the way I hurt you last night, but you must know that there are different degrees of making love. Passion can be shown in different ways, both tender and violent. Before we leave Paris, you will learn every one of them.”
Tania was aware that his fingers had lessened their pressure, and were trailing softly up and down her bare arms. She shivered as a wave of yearning, of shuddering excitement, began its insidious invasion of her body. No matter that he had hurt her and insulted her by his arrogant male domination. Nothing mattered, but the inescapable fact. She was his wife, and though she had her own opinions on just how long she could live with him, knowing that he only wanted her to provide Girard children and continue the dynasty, she was totally unable to resist as she felt the cool white silk being tossed aside, and the warmth of Claude’s body take its place next to her skin.
And now, in the pale light of morning, Claude set out to show her just how pleasurable love could be. Their limbs entwined, mouths touching, each a part of the other, two halves of one perfect being. Gone was the vigorous lover of last night, and in its place was a more gentle passion, that was none the less capable of taking her to the heights, to a place where she had never been until now. There was no thought of fear, no holding back.
The sensations she felt were nothing short of spectacular. At the same time, she felt oddly weightless, as if she was truly suspended in space and time for strange, long moments. It was almost as though there was a momentary loss of reason and self, as if she was no longer Tania Paget Girard, but truly a part of Claude. She had never felt this sense of belonging to another person in her life before, and it was an awesome feeling.
Slowly, very slowly, as if reluctant to break the spell, she lifted her eyelids. Above her, against the light, his dark head surrounded by a halo of sunlight, Claude’s face was expressionless. Tania breathed in shallow gasps. Surely now he would tell her he loved her — that he wanted and desired her was indisputable. But she needed more, craved more. She needed the reassurance of love as well as the physical act.
He bent to kiss her softly parted mouth. She realised her fingernails were digging little crescents in his shoulders and slackened them a little. She gazed wordlessly into his face.
“Thank you,” Claude said. Tania’s eyelids flickered, tears pricking behind them.
“Thank you?” she whispered, completely stunned by such a comment, and too hurt to be angry, for surely such a shared, beautiful experience was not to be cheapened by thanks.
“For proving that there’s a real, living, warm woman behind the facade,” he said. He moved away from her in one sinuous movement, walking in unashamed nakedness to the bathroom. Her eyes watched him go. It was as if he took her very soul with him. She was drained, suddenly empty of feeling, and more alone than she had ever been in her life before.
* * *
It seemed that Claude was determined that they should enjoy Paris and take home with them a store of memories. They did all the tourist things, the museums and galleries and churches. They took a bateau mouche on the Seine, and saw Montmartre by moonlight. They marvelled at Versailles. They gorged themselves on good food and wine, and every night Claude made love to her. Made love … Were two words ever more inappropriately phrased, she thought poignantly?
It was never a mere mechanical act, for Claude was far too physical a man for that, and it seemed as if he deliberately set out to be as sensual as he could. With what motive, Tania couldn’t be sure. Unless he hoped for her final surrender to him. Physically, he had it totally, but she was somehow just able to hold on to her senses enough so that she never betrayed herself. She never once said that she loved him. She could say ‘I love you’ in more than half a dozen languages, but they were never spoken to her husband, and he never said them to her.
Why did he marry her? she thought desperately, as the days passed. Just to provide heirs to the Girard estate? Why her? Or was it some cruel sort of penance for James’s death? A recompense … her heart filled with pain at the thought, but if she persisted in looking for reasons, it was one that she hated, and one that had never occurred to her until now. She wished very much that it hadn’t.
“Have you enjoyed Paris?” Claude said quietly on the flight back. “I hope so, Tania.”
“Yes, thank you. I’ve always loved Paris.” They made trite, stilted small-talk. They were as unlike two people in love as it was possible to be. Naturally, Tania thought bitterly, because they were not two people in love. One of them was in love … and that was the worst pain of all.
“Claude, you said there was no divorce in the Girard family.” The words were tumbling out before she could stop them.
“And I’ll stay as long as you need me for the book. But after that — surely you can see how impossible it is for us to go on like this? It’s all a sham. As soon as it’s convenient, I shall go back to England and you’ll be free of me.”
She stared straight ahead, at the back of the seat in front of her. He could think what he liked. If he didn’t divorce her then they must stay separated until she could divorce him. It was unthinkable that they should continue married when he didn’t love her. What a blind fool she had been to be swept off her feet by him in the first place. She should have listened to her instincts instead of her heart.
“No, you will not leave, Tania.” She jumped as he spoke, his voice vibrating with anger. “No woman walks out on her marriage in my family.”
“Women are liberated now, or haven’t you heard?” she said with heavy sarcasm. “A wedding-ring doesn’t shackle me for ever.”
He forced her to look at him. His hand grasped her chin, twisting her face to meet his furious eyes. He bruised her.
“Is this what your so-called liberation does for you then? Makes a mockery of the vows made before God? Did it really mean nothing at all to you?”
Oh, please don’t, her eyes begged him silently, don’t tear me apart like this. She felt suddenly older and wiser than he, if he thought that words said before a priest were all that mattered. God knew the very heart of a man. A priest didn’t. Any two people could stand before him and vow to love, honour and cherish, and mean nothing at all. A small sob was wrenched from her throat, and Claude let go of her at once. She put her hands feelingly to her jaw where he had held her.
Sunlight glinted on the heavy gold of her wedding-ring. Claude pulled her hand away from her face and caressed the cold metal on her suddenly lifeless finger.
“With this ring, I thee wed,” he repeated in a low, deep voice. “And I keep what is mine.”
He let her go, his resonant voice still drumming in her ears for the rest of the flight. Tania twisted away from him as far as she could. He was impossible. He acted like a cave-man. Why didn’t he just drag her along by her hair and be done with it? she fumed inwardly, arid there was no way she was going to remain at the château with him for a moment longer than necessary. She would leave, once she had fulfilled her promise with the book … though, remembering the utter isolation of the château, and its inaccessibility except by car, she felt a sudden qualm.
Then she told herself not to be so feeble. Maybe Alphonse would be informed not to take the young Madame anywhere with a suitcase, but there were other ways. She could phone for a taxi when the time came. She wouldn’t be beaten.
It was a short flight from Paris to Bordeaux, and the Girard limousine was there to meet them, with the implacable Alphonse at the wheel. No, Tania thought, there would be no help from such a staunch family retainer. It was best to go alone, and keep silent about her plans until she was ready.
Did he begin to wonder how soon it would be before she conceived the child he wanted, Tania thought? Was that his sole concern? She hadn’t suspected him of being so fiercely traditional, of wanting a son so keenly, or was it just a matter of pride, to prove that the Girard seed was vigorous and strong, and capable of producing an heir as quickly as possible? Or was it just to keep her here?
Tania dozed fitfully in the car, her head gradually dropping against Claude’s shoulder. It felt safe there. There had been other times when she had felt safe, times he didn’t know about. Sometimes she had woken in the night in the Paris hotel, and just lay there, listening to him breathing. She had run her fingers across his broad back and pressed her lips to it, tasting his skin, knowing that no-one could take this from her. Asleep, she could love him freely, openly, she could gain all the comfort she needed from his warmth, for only then was he the vulnerable one. If he lay on his back, she had kissed his mouth very gently, so as not to awaken him. She had breathed him, loved him, salted his face with her tears …
“We’re home,” Claude said. Tania moved her head away from his shoulder, wondering if she had still been dreaming, or if the butterfly kiss she had felt touch her mouth had been real at that moment. It was too dark to tell. Ahead of them, the château was a blaze of lights, and Tania felt a frisson of relief that other people would be inside, to lessen the tension between her and Claude. It was a sad thought to take home with her after a honeymoon.
* * *
They sensed the air of cautious excitement at once. Madame Girard, whom she must now call Mother if she could manage it, she had been informed, came to greet Tania with a kiss, before she turned to Claude. When she asked if they had enjoyed themselves, the awkward question was relieved by Monique’s laughing rejoinder that she shouldn’t ask such personal questions, and they only had to look at the newlyweds to know that they were happy.
Tania was amazed at the remark. Or did everyone naturally assume that because newlyweds were expected to be happy, then they were happy? Maybe no-one looked beyond the expectation. If that was the case, Tania was fervently glad of it, to save any embarrassment. For a wild moment, she wondered what the reaction would be if she suddenly yelled out that it had been an appalling two weeks, and that all she wanted to do was to go home to England, and forget she had ever set eyes on Claude Girard!
“We have some news to tell you,” Madame was saying with a smile. Tania looked quickly at Monique. Another wedding, maybe? She hoped so, because it would lessen the impact on this nice family when her own ended. But Monique and Denis hadn’t yet set the date, she discovered.
“There has been a letter from Switzerland.” Monique’s voice had a raw tremor in it now. “From the clinic, Claude. The doctor there thinks there is some new treatment for Henri, which will take several weeks. Then, if that is successful, he can go ahead with an operation. The treatment has to work first, otherwise the operation is not possible. He explains it in some detail, but I cannot — I cannot dare to hope, I am afraid to hope —”
She handed the letter to Claude with shaking hands. Tania felt an infinite compassion for his sister. How terrible to watch a much-loved child condemned to lie in a wheelchair, and how well she understood Monique’s fear for Henri. If the treatment failed, and his hopes were dashed, how much worse it would be for him.
“Have you told Henri?” Claude said, when he had skimmed through the letter. “How does he feel about treatment? The doctor says it will be uncomfortable at the very minimum.”
“He can’t wait.” Monique gave a small smile. “He wants to climb a mountain, Claude. This treatment and operation will be my mountain. I dread it more than he does — but how can I refuse it? If all goes well, Henri will be as straight and tall as any other child in a few months’ time. No-one has the right to deny him the chance.”
Tania admired her courage, especially when she was shown the doctor’s letter, and realised that the treatment would be quite an ordeal for the boy. But it was vitally necessary, to allow the surgeons access to the wasted muscle and tissue in the child’s back. It would mean days spent immobile, and she asked Monique when they had to give the doctor an answer.
“I have already given it,” she replied. “This letter came three days ago, and there is a bed at the clinic for Henri in ten days’ time. Denis and I have booked rooms at a nearby hotel for the weekend. I shall stay there for the whole time, so that I can see Henri every day, and Denis will come every weekend. If all goes well, the operation will take place before Christmas.”
Her hands were clenched together, and it was obvious that there was only one Christmas present Monique wanted that year, and that was to see Henri well and strong again. Compared with that, other problems dwindled to so much trivia, Tania thought humbly.
“When it’s time for the operation to take place, I shall go to Switzerland as well,” Madame Girard declared. “Monique will be glad of some family support.”
“If it takes place, Mother,” Monique murmured, but Madame waved her aside with dogged determination.
“I refuse to doubt it. Henri will walk again, and climb his mountain, and I want to be there when the doctor tells him so,” Madame said. There was a shine of tears in her eyes.
“Tania and I will be there too,” Claude said. “At such a time a family needs to be together.”
Monique’s unspoken gratitude stopped Tania’s turbulent thoughts that she may not even be part of the family by Christmas. It was no time to be letting such a thing creep into her mind. Nor to let herself feel sorrow washing over her that this family was so very different from her own, sharing the good times and the bad, supporting each other with their strength and presence. How many times had she longed for her own parents, or her brother, to be there when she needed them? And how often had she struggled on alone? She said as much to Claude a long time later, when they went upstairs to bed, and she realised that all her belongings had been transferred to Claude’s large room on the other side of the connecting door. Feeling slightly embarrassed at it all, she lay stiffly by his side, realising that with Henri’s news, and the journey from Paris, he was in no mood to make love to her that night. She was glad. There were too many other things on her mind.
“I envy you your family, Claude,” she said, feeling the familiar warmth of thigh touching thigh beneath the sheets.
“Why? Because they care about each other? There’s nothing unusual in that.” He sounded oddly belligerent, ready to argue, despite the late hour.
“Don’t you believe it!” Tania muttered. She felt his breath on her cheek as he turned his face towards her in the soft darkness.
“Your parents cared about you. James cared. He told me often enough.”
“They never stopped risking their necks for my sake, did they?” she whipped back, hurt, remembering.
“Did you ever go halfway to understanding why they did what they did?” Claude demanded. “Your parents were conservationists in the best sense of the word. They saved countless lives by their studies and reports, in the same way that James contributed to humanity by joining the mountain rescue team. You should be proud of them.”
“In other words, I’m totally useless and inadequate, compared with them! It didn’t matter that in caring for the wider world, they neglected those closest to home, did it?” She
was too angry at his lack of understanding to be surprised at just how much he knew about her family.
“Just when are you going to stop using your childish rebellion as a prop?” Claude asked her calmly.
Tania froze beside him, her mind refusing to listen. She didn’t understand what he meant, anyway. How could she be using her resentment at her family’s way of life as a prop? Against what? Against whom?
“Think about it, Tania,” he went on. “You’re like a child with a comfort blanket. You refuse to go out and face the big wide world because it’s easier to say it killed your parents and your brother. You won’t take any chances, just because they did. If they had been recluses, would you have rebelled just as fast by being a total extrovert?”
“Of course I wouldn’t. Don’t be so ridiculous.”
Claude shifted slightly away from her in the big double bed. She could feel him looking at her, although his face was only a shadowy blur in the night. Inside her chest, her heart was thumping painfully fast, as he forced her to examine her own motivation for living. She didn’t want to do it. She preferred her prop … unwillingly the word trembled in her mind, but he hadn’t done with her yet.
“Then perhaps you should ask yourself if they were rejecting you, or you were rejecting them, chérie.” The endearment held no warmth.
“What! Of course I wasn’t. How many times must I explain? I thought you understood. Oh, what does it matter, anyway? All of them are dead. Words can’t bring them back.” She bit her lips, feeling them tremble.
“I do understand. I understand that you were jealous of them.”
“Jealous!” The word exploded from her lips. “Have you any other crazy ideas to label me with? I can’t think why you married me, if I’m such a dead loss!”
“I didn’t say that, Tania.” Suddenly, he leaned across and kissed her mouth with a gentleness that brought a lump to her throat. “Go to sleep. We have work to do tomorrow.”