The Society Bride

by Fiona Hood-Stewart

  ‘Don’t sound so enthusiastic about it,’ he murmured, making her smile in spite of everything.

  ‘Sorry—I didn’t mean to sound unwelcoming. I’m just rather tired tonight.’

  ‘You look tired,’ he said as they walked up the front steps and she pulled out her key, not waiting for the servants to come to the door. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

  ‘Fine. Just that bug, I think. I’ll be better in a couple of days. Nothing to worry about,’ she replied as he held the door for her to pass into the hall.

  ‘I certainly hope so. I don’t want you getting ill.’

  ‘It’s really none of your business any longer,’ she said, raising her determined chin and facing him.

  Ramon stiffened and his eyes blazed. ‘You are still my wife,’ he uttered bitingly, ‘and as such you are under my protection.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so archaic,’ Nena countered, surprised at his reaction.

  ‘Archaic?’ Ramon took a step forward. ‘That may very well be. But I’ll remind you that I’m your husband and it is therefore my right to be informed about your wellbeing.’

  He was standing over her now, looking down into her face, eyes hard and gleaming, his mouth set in a harsh, determined line that left no room for argument. And Nena was unable to take her eyes away from his, unable to pull away, to flee the hypnotic gaze riveting her to the spot.

  Before she could react his hand touched her cheek. It trailed to her lips. Then just as suddenly she was in his arms and his mouth came down on hers, crushing, forcing open her lips, demanding her to bend to his will.

  For a moment Nena resisted—pushed her fists against his chest and tried to escape his hold. Then all at once his tongue touched a spot so sensitive, so tender and so vulnerable that all she could do was allow him to press her against him, feel the hardness of his body and his desire, and submit, allow his hands to roam down her back, knead her neck, and possessively caress the curve of her buttocks.

  ‘I want you,’ he growled when he came up for breath. ‘God, how I want you, my Nena, how I’ve missed you. Come upstairs and let’s finish what we’ve begun.’

  ‘I—I thought you wanted to talk,’ she gasped, trying to compose herself long enough to regain her sanity.

  ‘We can do that afterwards—whenever,’ he responded, pushing her firmly towards the stairs.

  ‘No. No. Ramon, wait.’ She pushed her hands against his chest and took a step back. ‘This is all so simple for you, isn’t it? Just kiss and make up and we’ll all be friends and a happy little family again. Well, it isn’t that simple. Not for me, at any rate,’ she said hoarsely, her heart beating so hard she could almost hear it. ‘I am not about to become some kind of carpet for you to walk all over. If you wanted us to be an item you should have thought your life out before we got married, not afterwards.’

  ‘You’re being childish and petty,’ he replied, unwilling to give up.

  ‘Maybe. But for now that’s how I feel.’

  ‘What about the divorce? I haven’t had any calls from your lawyers as yet,’ he challenged, eyes gleaming with contempt. ‘Empty threats, Nena, not so easy to follow up on when it comes to the crunch, are they?’

  ‘Is that what you think?’ She drew back and glared at him, feeling foolish and belittled. ‘Then, very well, you shall hear from my lawyers, if that is what you want.’

  ‘I never said that, so stop trying to put words into my mouth.’

  ‘Yes, you did. You said—’

  Ramon stepped forward and in one swift movement pulled her hard against him. ‘I married you for better or worse, not for you to walk out as soon as the going got rough,’ he spat angrily. Then before Nena could move he’d crushed her mouth under his again and forced her to open to him.

  It was so hard to resist, so awfully hard, and Nena found herself yielding when every instinct told her not to. Then his hand found her breast and fondled it. Not gently, but expertly, leaving her wet and wanting, her legs buckling as his hand came swiftly down and he touched that most sensitive spot of her body, which reacted even through the fabric of her dress and panties. Then, as she gasped, he drew away.

  ‘A very good night to you, señora mia. I hope you enjoy your lonely bed.’

  With that he turned on his heel and, letting himself out, marched down the front steps and walked furiously in the direction of Eaton Square.

  Nena sank onto the third step of the long flight of stairs and let out a tiny moan. It was all so confusing, so difficult to contend with. One minute she wanted to loathe him, the next to love him. The feel of his hands on her body had awakened every nerve, set alight every sensation. Now she stared at the closed door, asking herself what on earth was going to happen next. He’d almost dared her to call her lawyer—yet he’d touched her and kissed her in such a way that—

  It was all too frustrating! And he was impossible. Entirely impossible.

  Steadying herself on the banister, Nena rose, and trailed upstairs. In her room she undressed slowly, eyeing her body in the mirror as she undressed, touching the spot on her breast where his fingers had left a mark, seeing her nipples aroused, swollen with naked desire. She could feel the soft dampness between her thighs and closed her eyes, wishing, longing for one lingering, dreamy moment that she’d given in, let him stay, let him come upstairs and make love to her, let him ease this delicious ache that persisted, begging for completion.

  Then common sense asserted itself and she turned her eyes away and grabbed an old pair of flannel pyjamas. At least they weren’t sexy, didn’t remind her of the honeymoon, of the way he’d told her to remove her nightdress and how deliciously sensual, how powerful she’d suddenly felt, standing naked before him.

  Stop it, she ordered, marching into the bathroom and squirting toothpaste onto her brush. She was acting like a brainless idiot, like those girls she’d so despised at school who had always been drooling over men. Surely she had more self-control than that?

  But as she slipped between the covers, with the scent and feel of Ramon still impinged upon her brain and her being, Nena wondered if she had any sense left at all.

  The best thing was to try and get a decent night’s sleep, she decided, switching off the light and staring out of the window. Perhaps he was sleepless too, and not five minutes away, she reflected, tossing in the bed, eyeing the starry night.

  It was all so desperately frustrating, she concluded, letting go an irritated sigh. And the worst part was she’d asked for it by not even allowing him to tell her what his version of the Luisa tale was.

  Suddenly Nena sat up in bed, her hair falling wildly about her shoulders. What if it was actually true and he had been seeing Luisa for the last time?

  ‘Oh, hell!’ she exclaimed, punching her pillow angrily. She was sick and tired of this game, and the sooner it was over the better off they’d all be.

  ‘Well?’

  Ramon saw his mother mounting the wide flight of stairs as he entered the hall and hesitated.

  ‘Well, nothing. I dropped Nena off, that’s all,’ he replied curtly.

  ‘I gathered that,’ Doña Augusta said patiently. ‘How are things between the two of you?’

  ‘If you want the truth, I have no damn idea,’ Ramon exploded. ‘And please don’t go on about it, Mother. I’ve had just about enough of this whole nonsense. Did you see how Nena looked? How unwell? It’s ridiculous, the way she’s behaving.’

  ‘She did strike me as somewhat pale,’ Doña Augusta agreed, coming back down the stairs and leading the way to the sitting room. ‘Perhaps I’d better ring her tomorrow and see if she’s all right.’

  ‘Well, I hope you get a better reception than I did,’ he muttered, heading straight for the silver drinks tray and pouring himself a stiff brandy. ‘There’s just so much of Nena’s nonsense I’m prepared to tolerate,’ he added through gritted teeth. ‘I’ve had about enough of her antics.’

  ‘Maybe she’s had enough of yours,’ Doña Augusta murmured, disguising a s
mile at her son’s fury.

  ‘Whatever. Either way, this ridiculous situation has to be put a stop to one way or another. I’m damned if I’m having my wife sleep under her own roof. It’s disgraceful.’

  ‘Tell me, querido, just out of interest, is it your heart or your pride that is suffering most right now?’ his mother asked casually. ‘That is perhaps a matter you should ask yourself.’

  ‘Oh, Mother, leave me alone, please. I’m not in the mood for philosophical conversations. I’m off to bed.’

  ‘Goodnight, my son. Sweet dreams.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ Ramon muttered, then stalked from the room, leaving Doña Augusta staring into the empty fireplace, a smile twitching the corner of her lips.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘DOÑA AUGUSTA is in the living room,’ the maid said as Nena made her way downstairs. She felt washed out, and the bouts of sickness hadn’t stopped as she’d believed they would. Could she have something serious? she wondered, taking a deep breath as she reached the hall. What was Doña Augusta doing here at ten-thirty in the morning? She felt rather dizzy, and disinclined to talk, but could hardly turn her mother-in-law out.

  ‘Nena.’ Doña Augusta rose from the sofa and Nena went over to kiss her. ‘Sit down, child, and tell me what is wrong with you,’ she said immediately. ‘You look very pale and unwell. Have you seen a doctor?’

  ‘No. I haven’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. For several days now I’ve felt so queasy, but only when I wake up. By the end of the morning I feel so much better that I think I’m on the mend. I think I must have caught some sort of bug,’ she said gloomily.

  ‘Only in the morning, you say?’ Doña Augusta asked casually.

  ‘Yes. It’s the oddest thing. I can’t bear the thought of breakfast, but by lunchtime I’m quite hungry.’

  ‘Hmm. Excuse me asking you something so personal, querida, but when did you last have your period?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know—a few weeks ago.’ Nena closed her eyes a moment and waited for the wave of dizziness to pass. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ll be fine in a minute.’

  Doña Augusta smiled. The child had no idea what was happening to her, she realised ruefully, wondering how the news would affect the situation between Ramon and her, and knowing she must tread carefully.

  ‘Nena, have you thought that perhaps it might not be a bug?’

  ‘Well, no. I don’t really see what else it could be.’ Then all at once Doña Augusta’s previous question rang loud and clear in her head and she sat up straighter. ‘Oh! You don’t think that I might be—?’ She turned towards her mother-in-law, her eyes wide.

  ‘Expecting a baby?’ she asked softly.

  ‘But I can’t be. I mean, these things don’t happen just like that, do they?’

  ‘That depends. Have you been using any form of contraception?’

  ‘Uh, no. I didn’t think about it. I—’

  ‘Well, in that case I think there is a strong possibility that you may be pregnant. Morning sickness is one of the first symptoms. I had it dreadfully when I was expecting Ramon.’

  Nena sat on the sofa in shock. Pregnant. Expecting Ramon’s baby. What was she going to do?

  ‘Doña Augusta, please don’t tell Ramon. At least until I’ve found out for sure if I am really pregnant. Things aren’t—well, you know they’re not—going too well between us now. I need to be able to make my own decisions.’

  ‘I understand, my dear, but let me make an appointment for you with an excellent gynaecologist. He will be able to tell you if you are expecting or not, and then we’ll take it from there. As for now, I want you to lie down on the sofa and put your legs up. Here.’ Doña Augusta placed another cushion behind Nena’s back. ‘And some herb tea might help. I’ll get the maid to make some immediately,’ she said, taking charge.

  A baby.

  What would it be like? Was it a boy or a girl? And what if she and Ramon—? The thought didn’t bear thinking about. How would he react if she was pregnant? This couldn’t have come at a worse time, she decided, caught between the newborn emotions of imagining a tiny person growing inside her womb and the fact that she and Ramon were so torn apart.

  She sighed, closed her eyes and let Doña Augusta fuss, ordering tea and covering her legs with a cashmere throw before she headed for the telephone and began making calls.

  Several minutes later she returned to Nena’s side. ‘Good. I have got you an appointment for tomorrow morning at eleven. I can come with you, but quite understand if you would prefer to go alone.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Nena smiled gratefully. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’d better go by myself.’

  ‘I understand, querida. But please phone me when he tells you the result.’

  ‘And you won’t tell Ramon?’

  ‘Didn’t I promise this would remain our secret? That is on the condition that you allow me to take proper care of you. After all, you may be expecting my grandchild,’ she added with a conspiratorial smile.

  ‘Of course. You’ve been wonderful. Thank you so much.’

  ‘Not at all. I’m thrilled to finally have a daughter to spoil.’

  ‘Yes,’ Nena replied hesitantly. What if she and Ramon split up? What then?

  But right now she mustn’t think of that, must just get through the rest of the day, then go to the doctor and find out the truth. There would be time then to find answers to the rest of her dilemmas.

  There was something wrong with the numbers.

  Ramon frowned. He’d been over the audits several times and something didn’t fly. He picked up the pages where he’d circled several items in red and reviewed them once more. And that wasn’t all, he reflected, leaning back in the leather swivel chair. He had a feeling there were other issues going on at management level in several of Don Rodrigo Carvajal’s companies. But as yet he hadn’t pinned them down, and he was loath to show his hand before he was certain of his facts.

  And it might take him a little time to find out.

  He didn’t trust the urbane Sir Wilfred, with his suave, ready answers and slightly patronising attitude. In fact he wondered for just how long he’d been ripping Don Rodrigo off. Too long, probably. Certainly since the old gentleman had become ill and had been obliged to hand over the everyday running of his affairs to the man. Then there was that team of high-powered savvy lawyers, who seemed to have an excessive amount of power within the structure of the holding company.

  It would take him some sleuthing, but Ramon was determined to get to the bottom of it. Still, these problems, and a number of others he was dealing with in his own affairs back home, did not stop him from wondering just how he was going to handle the biggest problem of all: his wife.

  Nena was being recalcitrant and difficult. He’d thought yesterday that she would finally listen to him, allow him to explain, and that maybe they could get over the hurdle that had risen between them. He thought of her, pliant and yielding in his arms, and his body reacted immediately. She was lovely. That she should believe he could possibly want another woman when he had her was almost amusing. But that was precisely what Nena thought, that he had married her out of convenience—which he had—and that he planned to continue with his old life as well.

  The other thing worrying him was the state of her health. She’d seemed better last night, but when he’d phoned half an hour ago to talk to her, in the hope that he might persuade her to meet him for lunch, the maid had said she was unwell and couldn’t be disturbed.

  Suddenly Ramon got up. This was ridiculous. If she was ill then he must get her to the doctor. Grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the chair, he slipped it on and made his way out of the office.

  ‘I’ll be back later, Miss Brown. Please advise Morton,’ he told Don Rodrigo’s dragon-like secretary, who sat behind a large desk, ramrod-straight, wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses that made her look like an owl.

  ‘Very well, sir.’

  ‘I’ll phone in and you can tell me
if there are any important calls. Is Sir Wilfred in yet?’

  ‘No, sir. He has a meeting in the City this morning, with the American bankers for Carvajal Oil.’

  ‘But I specifically said I needed to be at that meeting.’ Ramon frowned, torn between his desire to go to Nena and the knowledge that he should definitely stay and be informed of what was going on. ‘Damn it. Why wasn’t I advised?’

  ‘I’m afraid I only learned the news by chance myself, sir.’ Miss Brown pursed her lips, and for the first time she exchanged a long glance with him.

  ‘I see. Well, in future I think we should keep our eyes and ears well open, Miss Brown,’ Ramon responded carefully, mindful of the fact that Miss Brown, like Morton, had worked for over thirty years with Don Rodrigo, who had held the highest opinion of her. If he had to trust someone, she was certainly his best bet.

  Turning on his heel, he took the ancient cage elevator down to the ground floor, then grabbed a taxi. Nena would just have to wait. The issues at hand were too important to let slip. It would do no harm for the Americans to know he was actively on board at Carvajal, and that from now on they’d be dealing with him.

  In the doctor’s office Nena slipped her clothes back on, returned from behind the screen and sat down on the opposite side of Dr Langtry’s desk.

  ‘Just a few minutes, Mrs Carvajal, while we verify the test. All your symptoms seem to indicate that you are expecting a baby, but we’d better be certain.’ He smiled at her and she smiled back weakly, her mind in a frenzy as little by little the reality of the whole thing sank in.

  At that moment the nurse entered and handed him a slip of paper.

  ‘Thank you.’ The doctor skimmed over the results.

  ‘Well, Mrs Carvajal, see for yourself,’ he said handing her the typed piece of paper. ‘You are expecting a baby for next April.’

  Hand trembling, Nena stared at the word ‘positive’. She swallowed. Was she happy? Sad? Or just overwhelmed?

  ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ she said hoarsely.