The Marriage Solution

by Helen Brooks

  'I know. She had no friends, no money; her looks were gone and she wanted to die. But I wouldn't let her. Rightly or wrongly I wouldn't let her. The plastic surgeons did what they could but the results weren't good. But one thing came out of all the months of hospitalisation—she found she could paint Water-colours. They're damn good too.'

  'So I provided the apartment when she was well enough to leave and she supports herself in everything else with her painting. She has a few close friends now among the artist community and is content in her own way, although she never leaves the apartment. Her life is her painting, her friends and her two cats.'

  'Do you visit her?' she asked painfully, her head whirling. Whatever she had thought, it wasn't this. 'To see how she is, I mean.'

  'Occasionally.' He gestured abruptly with his hand. 'She asked for my help knowing I didn't love her and that she didn't love me. It was an appeal from the past, in memory of two young kids who had fun for a time before it all went sour. And it was in that vein that I responded.'

  'There is nothing there beyond a strange feeling of duty, not even friendship, but I couldn't have turned my back on her when she had nothing and no one. And the financial side is a drop in the ocean to me but means security and stability to her. I'd have done the same for anyone in that position.'

  'I see.' She rubbed a shaking hand across her eyes before rising to face him. 'I'm sorry, Carlton; I made a terrible mistake. But I didn't know.'

  'No one does.' He shrugged slowly. 'Penny didn't want anyone to know about her face and what had happened. The world is cruel but the modelling world even more so and the media would have had a field day for a time until some other poor so-and-so took their attention.'

  'She just disappeared from sight, changed her name to Staples, added the 'Mrs' and cauterised the wound of her old life. Her artist friends have no idea who she was previously but they're a good bunch—they don't care. How did Jennifer find out about it?' he asked abruptly. 'I presume it was Jennifer?'

  'Yes.' She stared at him miserably, loving him more than she would have thought possible and terrified that he might read it in her face. 'I don't know how she found out but she is jealous about—about us,' she finished painfully. 'I suppose, knowing Jennifer, she dug and dug away until she got something; she has contacts you wouldn't dream of.'

  'Oh, yes, I would,' he said grimly.

  'And since Penny you've never fallen in love again?' She had to ask now, while he was actually talking to her. She had been wrong about Penny, criminally wrong, but there was still Maisie and, by his own admission, several other liaisons through the years. She had to know it all, face the worst now.

  'I—' He had been facing her, his face taut and strained, but as she asked the question something flickered in the smoky depths of his eyes for an instant and he hesitated before turning to look out of the window again. 'Why do you ask?'

  'Because—' Because I love you, I can't live without you, I'm going to marry you tomorrow knowing you don't love me, but you've reduced me to this creature who will take anything she can get, she thought wildly. 'Because it's only fair that I know,' she continued bleakly. 'You know everything about me—not that there was anything much to know,' she added bitterly.

  'Yes, I see.' She saw him straighten, as though he had taken a deep breath, before he faced her again. 'Do you want me to be honest?' he asked with a grim seriousness that stopped her heart.

  'Of course I do.' She stared at him, sheer will-power keeping her face cool and still and her eyes veiled.

  'Are you sure?' he asked heavily. 'You might not like what you hear.'

  'I want to know.' Her heart was thudding so hard that she was sure he must be able to hear it.

  'Then the answer has to be yes,' he said tiredly. 'Yes, I have. I think you've known for some time deep down inside, haven't you?'

  'Oh.' If the world had stopped spinning at that moment she wouldn't have cared. It was Maisie; it had to be. All the hundred and one little incidents from the past, the tender gestures, the gentleness, the innate kindness. It had to be the beautiful, shy brunette.

  But why couldn't he marry her? What was stopping him from taking her as his wife? Didn't she return his love? Perhaps they hadn't been lovers. Perhaps Maisie had held him at a distance, unable to love him in return except as a friend. Or was there an obstacle she knew nothing about?

  'And now you've had it confirmed.' He stared at her across the room, his eyes holding hers as her face registered her awareness. 'And it hasn't helped, as I knew it wouldn't You're more shocked, more panicky—'

  'I have to go.' She spoke through numb lips as she backed from him, the look on his face piercing her heart like a sword. She didn't want to hear more—hear the details about another woman who had captured his cold heart for her own. She wouldn't be able to bear it. What good would it do anyway?

  She knew now that she would marry him tomorrow whether or not he gave help to her father. She would marry him because she loved him, because a life without him in it would be pointless and empty and cold, even as a life as his wife would be an unending torment of pain and grief. But it would be better than knowing he was alive somewhere, walking and talking on this planet without her.

  'Katie—' As he took a step towards her she found her hand on the doorknob and wrenched open the door savagely.

  'No, don't come near me.' She couldn't bear to hear more. 'I'll be there tomorrow—you have my word—but I need to go home now.' And as she slammed the door behind her, a sob catching in her throat, it was as though she was slamming a door on all her hopes and dreams.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  She was a beautiful bride—everyone said so—but as Katie drifted through the day on Carlton's arm—the ceremony, the reception—it was as though it were all a dream, indistinct and unreal. She knew her father was worried about her but she couldn't seem to find the words through the fog in her mind to reassure him, although she caught him looking at her time and time again, his pale blue eyes narrowed with concern.

  There was dancing after the meal at the lavish hotel that Carlton had booked for the reception and as he raised her to her feet, the guests clapping as they took the floor, she felt her footsteps falter, and in the same instant his hand came firmly round her waist. 'Don't faint on me, little wife.' His eyes were glittering with some dark emotion as he looked into the speckled light of hers. 'See it through to the bitter end.'

  Her eyes were wide and dazed as they looked into his, her skin a pale, translucent cream that complemented the ivory silk dress with its mass of tiny seed-pearls and old lace, the skirt wide and hooped and the bodice fitting like a glove. 'I'm not going to faint,' she said quietly, the tiara of tiny pink rosebuds in her hair reflecting the colour of her pale lips. 'I told you once before, I've never fainted in my life.'

  'And I called you formidable.' He looked down at her as they began to dance, the full skirt of her dress preventing close contact 'I had no idea then just how formidable.'

  'Formidable?' She stared up at him in bewilderment. He thought this mass of bruised emotion and trembling flesh that he held in his arms 'formidable'?

  'You don't think so?' he asked softly as her face mirrored her thoughts. 'Innocence is a terrible weapon, my love; don't ever doubt it.'

  'My love'? It was the first time he had used such an endearment and it cut like a knife. She would have given the rest of her life for one hour in his arms with him meaning those two words, she thought painfully.

  The revelations of the day before had meant a sleepless night and an aching heart, and as she had sat and watched the night sky change from dark velvet blue to a dawn streaked with pink and orange she wept until there had been no more tears left. The magnificent wedding-dress on its hanger on her wardrobe door had seemed like a mockery then, the fine veil with its intricate lace and pearls an abomination, but she was married now.

  She glanced up at him as the music came to an end and their solitary dance finished with the assembled throng clapping and chee
ring as they began to take to the floor. 'For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health'—

  'You are breathtaking.' His eyes were waiting for her glance. 'Ethereal, exquisite, so delicately beautiful I'm afraid you might break.'

  'Don't.' It was too much after the day before, spoken as it was in a deep, husky voice that sent shivers down to her toes and made her weak.

  'I'm sorry.' His expression instantly hardened into granite, the familiar mask hiding his emotions as he looked away from her and round the crowded dance-floor. 'I didn't realise my mere words would be so distasteful.'

  'They aren't.' She didn't know what to say, how to handle this powerful, hard man who could turn from ice to fire and then back again all in the same breath and leave her trembling in confusion. 'It's just that…'

  'Just that?' he asked softly, his eyes veiled as he looked down into her troubled face. 'Just that you're frightened, nervous, wondering how you're going to face the night ahead and all the other nights?'

  'I didn't say that.'

  'Don't be frightened, my formidable little wife. Physically, at least, we will be compatible,' he said thickly. 'I will make you want me as you've never dreamed it possible to want a man, in spite of how you feel about me in the cold light of day. You will tremble in my arms, plead, moan for that which only I can give. I promise you that.'

  'Carlton…' She was trembling already, the dark, fiery side of him that she had only glimpsed now and again raw and naked in front of her eyes as his gaze roamed over her face and body with a hunger that was voracious and quite at odds with the very English, formal tailed suit.

  'I've wanted you from the moment I saw you,' he whispered softly as the other dancers swirled and moved around them. 'From the second I saw your photograph on David's desk.'

  'My photo?' She tried to pull away a little but he was holding her too tightly, his hand like a band of steel on her waist and his body rigid as he crushed her closer against him, careless now of the beautiful dress.

  'You were sitting with Jennifer in some park or other and while she laughed into the camera, her face tilted for the best pose, you gazed into the lens like a little lost dove, your eyes wide and beckoning and your hair loose about your shoulders like raw silk. As it will be tonight.' His gaze moved to the tiny curls and waves on top of her head which had taken the hairdresser over an hour to accomplish.

  How could he love one woman and want another the way he wanted her? she asked herself bitterly. Were all men like this? Able to detach their bodies so completely from their emotions? Her eyes chilled with resentment and humiliation and she turned her head away, her body stiff and unyielding and her face cold with hidden pain.

  'Stop frowning.' The expression on his face as she raised her eyes to his again made her catch her breath. There was hunger there, rage, a strange kind of bitterness and, she would almost have thought, pain. 'This is your wedding-day; you are the radiant bride. At least try to act the part for a few hours, if only for David's benefit.' He gestured with the merest inclination of his head towards her father, sitting at the top table in the distance, and she saw that although he was talking to Joseph his eyes returned every few seconds to her face and his lined face was worried.

  From that point she threw herself into the allotted part with all her might, circulating on Carlton's arm and chatting happily with all their guests, her lips smiling, her eyes bright and her nerves stretched to breaking-point Just before they left the party later that evening she found herself in a quiet corner with David, her facial muscles aching with the effort it had taken to keep the smile in place all day.

  'Is everything all right, lass?' He took one of her hands in his as he looked into her face. 'You seem a sight too het up to me.'

  'It's my wedding-day, Dad.' She forced a light laugh from somewhere. 'Surely a girl has a right to be excited on her wedding-day?'

  'And that's all it is?' he asked quietly. 'There's nothing wrong?'

  'Nothing.' If he said much more with that loving look on his face she would burst into tears, she thought frantically, and then all this would be for nothing. He mustn't find out the truth or the price she had paid to give him peace of mind.

  'Have you ever seen such a beautiful bride?' Carlton's deep voice over her shoulder made her sag with relief as her father's eyes moved from her face and up to his.

  'Never.' The two men smiled at each other before Carlton's hand under her elbow raised her gently to her feet.

  'Time to say our goodbyes, darling,' he said smoothly.

  The last twenty minutes seemed the worst but at last it was over and she went upstairs with Jennifer, who was going to help her change in the room that Carlton had reserved, before they left the hotel, where the festivities were going to continue into the early hours.

  'You looked lovely today, Katie.' As Jennifer unhooked the tiny buttons at the back of the dress and helped her step out of it, her voice was full of reluctant admiration. 'Things went OK last night, then?' she asked with heavy casualness.

  'Yes.' As the flurry of silk and lace was laid on the sofa at her side Katie reached for the simple cream linen dress and jacket she had chosen to wear and slipped into the dress quickly. 'Help me take the flowers out of my hair, would you? This tiara is fixed with a thousand pins; it kept slipping out of my hair without them.'

  'You don't want to talk about it?' Jennifer asked quietly.

  'No.' Katie turned and looked her sister straight in the eye. 'Not now, not ever. It's OK and I want to leave it at that.'

  'Fine, fine.' Jennifer's hands deftly removed the tiara without disturbing the upswept curls. 'I'm sure you know what you're doing,' she said tartly, with a faint trace of spitefulness.

  As she left the lift in the reception area a few minutes later, Jennifer just behind her, and caught sight of Carlton, big and dark as he towered over all the other men present, Katie thought that she had never in her life been less sure of what she was doing than right now. She loved him. She ached with love for him and as she walked to his side and he smiled down at her, devastatingly attractive in his dark morning suit, she felt a sudden fierce determination to make things work whatever the cost, to turn this fiasco around and make him if not happy, then at least content.

  That spirit of sacrificial nobility lasted exactly five minutes until Carlton shook hands with Joseph, who had been his best man, and then turned to take Maisie in his arms, kissing her gently before whispering something quietly in her ear that made the lovely brunette flush and drop her eyes shyly.

  And then they were being showered with confetti as they ran for the car, parked outside the huge glass doors of Reception, and the last goodbyes were said, her bouquet of fresh pink rosebuds and white freesias thrown over her shoulder into the waiting crowd, and the big car with Carlton's chauffeur at the wheel glided away as she waved frantically to her father, the tears that had been threatening to fall all day spilling over at the sight of him standing slightly to one side of the rest of the throng, hand raised in farewell, his eyes suspiciously bright.

  'Here.' A large white handkerchief was thrust under her nose as Carlton pulled her into his side with his other arm. 'Just shut your eyes and relax for a while. It's a little way to the hotel where we're spending the night, but I thought it would be better to get right away somewhere where the practical jokers couldn't find us.'

  'Yes.' What had he said to Maisie in those last few seconds? she asked herself bitterly as she wiped her eyes, trying not to smudge the delicate eye make-up that the beautician had been so painstaking over earlier in the day. What had he said!

  It was a full twenty minutes later that the Mercedes glided into the small courtyard in front of a rambling country-style hotel with leaded windows and old, mellow stone.

  The smell of wood-smoke was heavy in the dusk-laden air as Carlton helped her from the car.

  'What a lovely place.' She forced herself to speak normally, conscious of the chauffeur extracting their cases from the back of the car, an
d Carlton nodded slowly. They hadn't spoken a word to each other on the drive from the reception, but he had seemed content to sit quietly with his arm around her and her body leaning against his as she had shut her eyes and let her thoughts torment her.

  'I thought you'd like it. I've arranged a taxi to pick us up tomorrow morning and take us to the airport. Now…' He turned to the chauffeur and smiled. 'Not a word as to where you brought us, Bob. Joe still has enough of the boy about him to try some damn silly trick.'

  'Mum's the word, sir.' The young man grinned at them both conspiratorially. 'I'll let 'em cut my tongue out first.'

  'A somewhat extreme expedient but I appreciate the thought,' Carlton responded drily as the three of them walked up the steps and into the small foyer where he was greeted with the normal rapturous welcome that Katie was beginning to expect.

  'Would you like dinner served in our room or in the restaurant?' he asked her quietly as Bob and the porter walked to the lift with their cases.

  'The restaurant,' Katie said quickly—too quickly. The thought of being alone with him was doing strange things to her insides and the prospect of delaying it a little longer was welcome. She caught the narrowed glance he shot at her but he said nothing, indicating the lift, where Bob and the porter were waiting with the doors open, with a wave of his hand.

  'But I thought… I mean—weren't we going to have dinner?' she stammered nervously. 'You said—'

  'I thought you would like to freshen up a little before we come down,' Carlton said smoothly as he took her arm and began to lead her towards the waiting lift, but not before she had seen the flash of anger in the smoky grey eyes. The lift travelled upwards silently and once on their floor, which was thickly carpeted and discreetly elegant, the porter led the way to the first door and opened it before handing the key to Carlton and allowing them to walk through.

  'Oh, it's beautiful…' They had entered a suite of rooms luxuriously furnished in cream and gold, the air redolent with the perfume from several bowls of fresh flowers, and the full-length windows in the small sitting-room open to the gentle evening breeze that drifted in from the gardens below. Aware that he had thought carefully about their first night together and had tried to please her, she turned impulsively to him as the chauffeur and porter left the room. 'Thank you; it's lovely here,' she said shyly as he looked down at her with unfathomable eyes.