by Lynne Graham
‘I don’t think so.’ Unhappily reminded of a rejection that had cut her in two when she was only nineteen years old, Jess stiffened defensively. The identity crisis she had undergone during that troubled period in her life had taught her not to build fantasy castles in the air. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, she chanted inwardly, because she had learned to be grateful for the years of love and care she had received from the father she had once taken for granted. She would have hugged the older man had she not been afraid of spoiling her make-up. Just for once, she wanted to look perfect. There was nothing wrong with her self-esteem, she reflected impatiently, she was simply determined to grace her beautiful gown at the altar. For her own benefit, not for Cesario’s.
After all, some day she would be showing the photos that would be taken of the occasion to her child. She had to believe in that, had to keep her thoughts firmly fixed on that ultimate all-important goal of having a baby. At the end of the day, a child would be what really mattered. Only it would not quite cover the wedding night and how she felt about sharing that kind of intimacy with a man who didn’t love her.
Her tummy flipped when she thought about Cesario seeing her scars for the first time. In her opinion they weren’t that bad. There was the chance that given enough darkness he mightn’t even notice them. On the other hand, this was a guy accustomed to some of the world’s most beautiful women and in every other way he was very much a perfectionist. And she was, by no stretch of the imagination, perfect any more. Stifling the kernel of panic deep down inside her, she struggled to overcome the sudden fear that he might be repelled by her flawed body. Some people were repelled by scarring and they probably couldn’t even help reacting that way. As the car arrived to take her to the church she suppressed the rolling tide of insecure thoughts threatening to engulf her. Instead she scolded herself and acknowledged the futility of looking for trouble in advance.
Her heart was beating like thunder when she looked at the packed pews of the little flower-bedecked church of Charlbury St Helens, which lay only a hundred yards away from her parents’ home. Lack of space in the nave had meant restricting the number of guests able to see the ceremony. When she caught a glimpse of Cesario standing so tall, dark and straight at the altar, she found it hard to get oxygen into her lungs. And then suddenly and without any warning at all, and in a spirit of sharp regret, she found that she was wishing that her wedding were for real, an occasion where two people in love shared their vows for a shared and productive future. The unemotional exchange of needs that she had agreed with Cesario was on another plane entirely and just then she felt incredibly lonely. A surge of over-emotional tears stung the backs of her eyes.
‘Your bride looks gorgeous,’ Stefano remarked admiringly at his cousin’s elbow.
And Cesario stopped playing it cool and turned to get his own view. He felt the word didn’t stretch anywhere far enough to do justice to the vision of Jessica in the full-skirted sparkling gown with a corset bodice that moulded her slim curves and defined her tiny waist. So stunning was she with her light grey eyes shining, her soft mouth unusually tremulous and full and her heavy mass of hair falling below the tiara that he barely registered the aggravation of her arriving at the altar on the arm of the man who had let thieves into his house.
Jess met Cesario’s brilliant dark eyes and experienced a sizzling sensation in her pelvis that was unnervingly similar to an electric shock. Breathing rapidly, she averted her attention from him and concentrated studiously on the middle-aged priest’s opening preamble. The ceremony was short and familiar, similar to a number of friends’ weddings she’d attended in recent years, but she still could not quite accept that this time she was the bride. Her hand shook a little when Cesario first grasped it and she stopped breathing altogether when he slid the slim band of gold onto her wedding finger. His handsome mouth brushed her cheek in a light salutation and then they walked down the aisle, guests beaming at them as though they had done something terribly clever. She remembered to smile for the benefit of the congregation, which, aside of her mother, had no idea that she was not a normal, happy bride.
‘You look amazing in that dress, mia bella,’ Cesario commented during the drive back to Halston Hall where the reception was being held.
‘And I picked it all by myself.’ Jess could not resist letting him know. ‘The stylist wanted me to wear something plainer and more formal.’
‘You made the right choice.’
Relaxing a little, Jess sighed. ‘With all this fuss going on around us, it’s hard to remember that it’s all fake.’
Cesario frowned. ‘It is not fake,’ he contradicted.
Fake, fake, fake! she wanted to shout at him in defiant disagreement, but, suspecting such a response would annoy him, she managed to resist the impulse.
‘We are now husband and wife and we will live as such.’ Cesario delivered his different opinion in a tone of powerful conviction.
But Jess was stubborn and hard to impress and she wrinkled her nose. ‘A temporary marriage could never feel real,’ she said quietly, thinking of the very long, wordy legal contract she’d had to sign a couple of weeks earlier before the marriage could go ahead.
This prenuptial contract had made it very clear that the marriage was more of a commercial arrangement than anything else. The terms of the eventual divorce had been laid out with equal clarity with regard to income, property and the custody and care of any child born to them. No woman who’d had to sign such a detailed document could have cherished any romantic illusions about the nature of the marriage she was about to enter.
Cesario set his white even teeth together. ‘Talk of that variety is premature. We don’t know as yet when our marriage will end. That’s not the aspect you should be concentrating on right now.’
But Jess was no more eager to think about the mechanics of getting pregnant. What if it simply didn’t happen? What a nightmare that would be! For a start, it was the only reason he was marrying her and, from her own point of view, it was the only feature that made the whole agreement supportable. She wouldn’t think about her wedding night, instead she would think about the baby she was desperate to hold in her arms. Only she discovered as she stood in line to greet their guests in the Great Hall of the Elizabethan house that she could not wipe Cesario’s starring role in that future development from her mind and her nervous tension began to mount again.
The exhausting day continued and, having had little practice as a social butterfly, Jess found it a strain to laugh and talk and smile continuously with strangers, many of whom were undoubtedly curious to see what was so special about her that she had managed to get a male of Cesario’s reputation to the altar. If only they’d had access to the truth, she thought wryly, standing behind a door in a quiet corner when she finally managed to escape the crush for a few minutes. At least the meal, the speeches and the first dance were over, she reflected ruefully, grateful that the spotlight of attention was no longer on the bride and groom quite so much. She gulped down a glass of champagne in the hope that the alcohol would help her to feel a little more relaxed and light-hearted, for Cesario had already suggested twice that she ‘loosen up’. Her natural shyness and reserve seemed to be a disadvantage around him.
‘I can’t believe that Alice is being so two-faced,’ Jess heard a female voice state with perceptible scorn. ‘I don’t believe for a moment that she is really pleased that Cesario has finally found a wife.’
‘Oh, neither do I,’ agreed another. ‘After all, Alice was once utterly crazy about Cesario and she only married Stefano because he adores her.’
‘I can understand why she did it, though. She’d been with Cesario for two years, there was no sign of him making a commitment and she wasn’t getting any younger. Don’t forget she’s a few years older than he is and she didn’t waste any time in having children with Stefano.’
‘I heard that Cesario was devastated when she walked out on him for his cousin.’
T
he other woman laughed in disbelief. ‘Can you imagine Cesario being devastated over a woman? If he’d cared about Alice that much he’d have married her when he had the chance.’
‘Most men would consider a woman like Alice a keeper.’
‘As you can see by his choice of bride, though, Cesario is not most men,’ her companion said scornfully. ‘Granted she’s got the looks, but nobody had ever heard of her before the invitations arrived.’
‘Why would we have heard of her? She looks after his horses!’
Jess moved away from the doorway in haste before she could be seen. Looks after his horses indeed, she thought in exasperation, recalling her long years of study and training for her career in veterinary medicine. She had no reason, though, to disbelieve what she had innocently overheard and she was taken aback to learn that Alice and Cesario had once been lovers. An affair that Cesario allowed to last for two years must have been serious, although the beautiful blonde had somehow ended up married to his cousin instead. Even more surprisingly, that development did not appear to have damaged the friendship between the two men.
‘Have a drink,’ her mother urged, pressing a champagne glass into her daughter’s nerveless hand. ‘You hardly ate anything of the wedding breakfast and you are as white as a ghost.’
‘I’m fine,’ Jess asserted automatically, her eyes anxiously scanning the knots of people in search of Cesario’s tall dark head.
Ironically he was on the dance floor with Alice, the two of them so busy talking that they were circling very slowly. Stefano was watching his wife and his cousin from the top table, a troubled expression etching lines to his face
‘What’s wrong?’ Sharon Martin prompted, reading her daughter’s tension easily.
Jess continued to watch Cesario and Alice while sharing what she had overheard.
‘I knew it—I told you how hard it is to keep your emotions out of things.’ Her mother sighed. ‘You haven’t been married to Cesario for five minutes yet and you’re already getting jealous and suspicious!’
Jess turned a hot guilty pink. ‘Of course I’m not! I’m only curious to know if what I heard is true.’
‘So ignore the gossip and ask your bridegroom for the real story. If you don’t make a major issue out of it, he’ll probably be quite happy to tell you what really happened,’ the older woman opined.
Jess knew that was sensible advice, but it was frustrating advice because she couldn’t imagine questioning Cesario about something that personal. She returned to her seat at the top table and sipped her champagne, still longing for the real fizz of fun and optimism to magically infiltrate her bloodstream and lift her mood. Her boss, Charlie, came up to talk to her about the locum vet he had engaged to cover for her while she was in Italy. In the end, after much debate, she had not opted for a partnership at the practice, reluctant to own a rise in status that could only be attributable to Cesario’s wealth and influence and concerned that such a move would only burden her with even more responsibility than she already had. Since there was only so much of her to go round, she had decided that working part-time would suit her changing circumstances better, allowing her to continue her career and keep abreast of new developments while allowing her more free time in which to meet Cesario’s expectations and to work towards her ambition of having her animal sanctuary registered as a charity.
Charlie was moving away when a tall young man with dark curly hair approached her. She didn’t remember him from the guest line-up and she was surprised when he asked her to dance, although she stood up with good grace.
‘I don’t think I remember meeting you earlier.’
‘You won’t. I’ve only just arrived with some friends for the evening party,’ he told her cheerfully, reaching out a hand to clasp hers with relaxed courtesy. ‘I’m Luke Dunn-Montgomery.’
He was a member of the family that had once owned Halston Hall. Jess felt her mouth fall open in surprise and she swiftly cloaked her gaze, although she could not resist subjecting him to one intense appraisal to satisfy her curiosity, for she knew by his name exactly whose son he was.
‘Obviously, I know who you are,’ Luke remarked once they were safely on the floor and the music had ground conveniently to a halt so that they could talk briefly. ‘You’re the cat that’s not allowed out of the bag for fear that my father might lose votes for his youthful indiscretion with your mother…’
At that irreverent explanation for her birth father’s refusal to acknowledge her existence, Jess lifted startled eyes to his. ‘I didn’t realise anyone else in your family even knew I existed.’
‘I heard my parents arguing about you when I was a teenager,’ he confided. ‘My mother was furious when she found out that you existed.’
‘I don’t see why. I was born long before your parents married,’ Jess pointed out tightly.
‘Actually, they were dating at the time you were conceived,’ Luke explained in a suitably lowered tone, his eyes dancing with rueful amusement. ‘I was sworn to secrecy about you.’
‘I didn’t think I was that important,’ Jess confided a touch bitterly when she cast her mind back to the cold reception she had received on the one and only occasion when she had tried to make the acquaintance of her birth father.
Currently a well-known member of parliament with a political career that meant a great deal to him, William Dunn-Montgomery had refused to have anything to do with the illegitimate daughter born to Sharon Martin while he was still a student. He had even had a solicitor’s letter sent to Jess warning her to stay away from him and his family. It was as if she might be the carrier of some dread social disease, she recalled painfully. She marvelled that she had ever expected any warmer a welcome from the man when he had given her teenaged mother the cash to pay for an abortion and had then considered his responsibility discharged even after he learned that he had a daughter.
‘I’ve always been madly curious about you—my only sibling,’ Luke told her. ‘My word, with that hair and those eyes you do look very like Dad’s side of the family, although you’re a little on the short side!’
At that quip, Jess glanced up at him, saw that he was tall and she grinned, her tension suddenly dissipating. He was her half-brother, after all, and she was pleased that he’d had the interest to attend her wedding and introduce himself to her. ‘I didn’t even know there were any Dunn-Montgomerys on the guest list.’
‘Your bridegroom got to know my parents when he bought this place and my father’s very proud of his extensive connections with the business world. I’m sure Father made a very polite excuse for his and Mother’s non-attendance. I imagine he was very shocked when he realised who Cesario was marrying. It’ll be a challenge for him to avoid you now.’
‘Cesario doesn’t know about my background,’ Jess admitted. ‘And I have no plans to tell him.’
‘I can understand why you would prefer to keep quiet about my father.’
‘Some secrets are better left buried. I don’t see the point of treading on anyone’s toes now.’
Luke took the hint and dropped the subject, walking her off the floor while happily answering all her questions. He had all the assurance of a much-loved only child and explained that, in the family tradition, he was a pupil barrister as his father and grandfather had been before him.
Cesario glanced over Alice’s shoulder and saw Jessica with her tall male companion. His dark golden gaze zeroed in on his bride, noting the happy glow she exuded, and his eyes widened in surprise when she laughed, showing more animation than she had shown throughout the whole of her wedding day. That she liked the company she was in was obvious and he could see that she was chattering away. Cesario, who had never yet got his bride to chatter, stared and frowned, wondering who the young man was because he didn’t recognise him.
Sharon intercepted her daughter to ask in a worried undertone, ‘What were you talking about with Luke Dunn-Montgomery?’
Jess laughed. ‘He knows about me and he couldn’t have been friendli
er.’
‘His family won’t like that,’ her mother pronounced.
‘That’s not my problem,’ Jess replied, reaching for another glass of champagne and registering that she felt remarkably buoyant.
‘Watch out,’ Sharon said anxiously nonetheless. ‘It’s safer not to get on the wrong side of people like that.’
‘Times have changed, Mum. The Dunn-Montgomerys are not lords of the manor any more and the locals don’t have to bow and curtsy when they pass by.’
And, at that moment, Luke reappeared at her elbow and insisted on being introduced to her mother before sweeping Jess off to meet his friends. The champagne had loosened her tongue and made her more of a social animal than usual. Luke’s friends were fun and she was giggling like mad over a silly joke when Cesario approached their table, spoke to everyone with rather chilling dignity and anchored a hand that would not be denied to Jess’s elbow to raise her from her seat and walk her away.
Bristling at that high-handed intervention, Jess shot him a reproving look. ‘What was that all about?’
‘It’s time for us to bow out of the festivities.’
‘But we aren’t leaving for Italy until tomorrow morning,’ Jess protested, realising belatedly as she glanced at her watch that time had moved on without her awareness and that, at what felt like very little warning, she was about to embark on her much-agonised-over wedding night.
‘It’s after midnight and our guests are beginning to leave, a fact that seems to have passed you by while you were flirting—’
‘I’m not Cinderella.’ Jess froze, facial muscles tightening, slight shoulders stiffening as Cesario herded her out to the magnificent main staircase. ‘And I wasn’t flirting!’
‘You’ve been flirting like mad with Luke Dunn-Montgomery for the past hour! Maledizione! I could hear you laughing across the dance floor.’
On the wide first landing, Jess slung Cesario a furious look and the truth trembled on her lips, but she wouldn’t let it loose. Why should she admit that Luke was her half-brother and that she was thrilled he had sought her out and treated her like a sister? She didn’t owe Cesario any explanations. He might have married her but he wasn’t entitled to her deepest secrets, particularly not the wounding or embarrassing ones. Cesario was from an aristocratic privileged background similar to her estranged birth father’s and she cringed at the thought of admitting that she was the former squire’s unacknowledged child by one of the village girls. Even if it was the truth, it sounded hideously, mortifyingly like something out of a nineteenth-century melodrama. And when she was already struggling under the humiliation of Robert Martin having been responsible for the loss of Cesario’s valuable painting, and having had to admit to having loan-shark, jailbird relatives as well, was it really her duty to lower herself further in his estimation?