Joanna had stopped listening, lost in her own thoughts once again. Her mother might feel better for having dropped this bombshell, but it certainly didn’t have the same effect on her. She and Joshua had had their problems over the years, but she had never in all the time of their marriage suspected there could be another woman in his life. Of course Joshua was a sensual man, and she—
‘—and I’ve always told you that Angela Hailey is too pretty to be a mere secretary and receptionist to any man, let alone one as attractive as Joshua,’ her mother continued.
‘Angela Hailey?’ That part of her mother’s conversation pierced her tortuous thoughts. ‘Are you saying she’s the woman involved?’ she frowned.
‘According to Jackie,’ her mother nodded. ‘Of course she can’t always be right, but she usually is,’ she added petulantly. ‘And Angela is a lovely woman.’
A mental picture of the beautiful redhead came to mind, her eyes a deep flashing green, her figure shown to advantage in the styled clothes she always wore, her hair long and straight to her shoulders. She had been Joshua’s receptionist and secretary for the last seven years now, and Joanna had met her lots of times—and their dislike was mutual. Angela made no attempt to hide her contempt of Joanna whenever they were alone, although she was always coolly polite in front of Joshua. Joanna had always felt it wiser to ignore the other woman’s antagonism, but this had only seemed to anger her more. Yes, she could see Angela Hailey as Joshua’s mistress, knowing the other woman would revel in such a role. And Joshua had a weakness for redheads—hadn’t he been with one when she had first seen him?
She shrugged now. ‘There’s always talk about a man like Joshua. Half of his women patients would like to claim an affair with him, and the other half want to mother him. If I listened to, or believed, half the gossip of affairs between Joshua and other women I’d be a nervous wreck!’
Once again her mother looked irritated. ‘And no one could ever accuse you of having bad nerves, could they, Joanna?’ she snapped. ‘You’re so cool it’s unbelievable. Joshua could be having a roaring affair with Angela Hailey and you would simply sit back and deny it!’
Joanna met her mother’s exasperated gaze with steady blue eyes. ‘Would you rather I said it was true?’
‘If it is, yes!’
She sighed. ‘I think Joshua is the one you should be asking, not me. Don’t they say the wife is always the last to know?’ she added dryly.
‘Don’t you care?’ her mother snapped.
‘Of course I care,’ she bit out, her eyes flashing. ‘Joshua is my husband. But he isn’t likely to tell me whether or not he’s having an affair with Angela, even if I were to ask him—which I’m not going to do,’ she added firmly.
‘You trust him that much?’
No, she cared that little! If there was another woman in Joshua’s life, even if it was Angela Hailey, then she didn’t care! ‘We’re married,’ she said flatly. ‘I have no reason to think that will ever change. If it does,’ her voice was brittle now, ‘you can be sure I’ll let you be the first to know, so that you can tell Jackie Simms some first-hand gossip for a change!’
‘Joanna, don’t be flippant—’
‘How am I supposed to act?’ she rasped. ‘You’ve just told me the biggest gossip in town believes that my husband is being unfaithful to me. Should I shout and scream? Would that make you happy?’
Her mother looked about them selfconsciously as Joanna’s voice rose over the last. ‘I’m thinking of your happiness,’ her tone was low. ‘That’s why I’ve told you about Joshua. Lots of men—stray. Why, even your father—But that’s another story,’ she hastily dismissed at Joanna’s sudden look of interest. ‘But if you know what’s going on then you have a chance to stop it.’
Did she want to? Did it really bother her that much any more what Joshua did? She knew the answer to that only too well. And her mother would be deeply dismayed if she knew of her real feelings for Joshua.
‘I have to go, Mother.’ She picked up the bill. ‘I believe it’s my turn,’ she said lightly. ‘I’ll see you next week as usual,’ and she stood up.
‘Joanna—’
‘Yes?’ She looked down at her mother, seeming much older than her twenty-three years.
‘Just—Remember what I’ve told you!’ Cora looked worried by Joanna’s attitude. ‘Joshua is a man of—experience, sophistication.’ She frowned. ‘Don’t blame him too much if this does turn out to be true. I’m sure it’s nothing more than a fleeting affair. Oh, and congratulations on the book,’ she added absently.
‘Thank you, Mother,’ Joanna said dryly, knowing how much of an afterthought the good wishes had been.
She took another taxi home, to the house she shared with Joshua in Belgravia, although perhaps shared was too intimate a description; they both just happened to eat and sleep there, they hadn’t shared anything worthwhile in a long time.
The elegant house had been run very efficiently by Joshua’s housekeeper before they were married, and Mrs Barnaby continued to do so now, her presence unobtrusive and very ordered, never a jar or hiccup in the routine of the household. Breakfast was always at eight o’clock, lunch always at one, and dinner always at seven-thirty sharp. The house was always spotlessly clean, everything at Joanna’s fingertips day and night—and she hated it, from the brass handles on the doors to the crystal chandelier in the lounge. It wasn’t a home, it was a hotel, a very beautiful hotel, but no less impersonal.
She nodded coolly to the maid as she opened the door for her, glancing idly at the mail that had been left on the hall table, the heady scent of the carnations in the vase there pleasant to the senses. Most of the letters were for Joshua, as usual, but there was just one letter for her, an invitation to dinner from one of Joshua’s medical colleagues. She left this with the other mail, knowing it would be Joshua’s decision whether or not they went. They probably would.
‘Any messages, Mrs Barnaby?’ she asked the housekeeper as she came through from the kitchen with a pot of tea.
‘Just from Mr Radcliffe,’ the woman informed her without emotion, her rigid nature reflected in her appearance, from the tight bun of hair at her nape to her no-nonsense shoes. ‘He said to tell you he’d be home for dinner at seven as usual.’
‘Thank you,’ Joanna nodded, pouring herself a cup of the tea. ‘I’ll take this upstairs with me,’ she nodded dismissal, ignoring the other woman’s look of disapproval. She had become impervious to those looks over the years, knowing the housekeeper didn’t approve of drinks being taken upstairs.
Her bedroom was evidence of Joanna’s own self-indulgence, a beautiful boudoir in white and pink lace, even the four-poster bed having white lace curtains that could be drawn at night. As a child she had always dreamt of a room like this, and while her parents had always given her everything money could buy, they had considered such a room ridiculous. When they were first married Joshua had been inclined to satisfy this whim of hers, but had insisted that the adjoining bathroom and his own bedroom on the other side of this remain free of feminine frills.
Separate bedrooms. Joanna had hardly been able to believe it when they were first married, but Joshua’s claim about not disturbing her if by some unlikely occurrence he should happen to be called out to the clinic during the night had seemed a valid one. Now she was glad they didn’t share a room; she couldn’t have borne to share a bed with him all night, every night.
Her mother’s suggestion of an affair between Joshua and his receptionist/secretary at the fashionable consultancy he ran in Harley Street didn’t seem so unlikely when she considered the amount of time he spent there, an image of the ultra-elegant consulting-room and lounge coming to mind as a scene for the affair. No, it didn’t seem so impossible, but Joanna deplored Joshua’s choice of mistress, knew that any number of women would have been willing to have an affair with him.
She heard the quiet throb of the white Rolls-Royce at the front of the house at exactly seven o’clock, checking her
appearance in the full-length mirror as she heard the deep sound of Joshua’s voice as he greeted the housekeeper downstairs. There would have been a time when she herself would have run down the stairs to greet him, but those days were long gone.
They always dressed for dinner, and she had chosen to wear a black gown caught across one shoulder, leaving the other shoulder and arm bare, a gold slave bracelet pushed up on to the completely bare arm. The gown moulded to the slender curves of her body, once again high-heeled sandals adding to her diminutive height. Her make-up was perfect, her hair loose blonde curls that clung to her head, her expression coolly composed as she went down to the lounge to wait for Joshua to join her.
She was sipping her sherry when he came into the lounge fifteen minutes later, his hair still damp from the shower he had just taken. Joanna was able to look at him objectively, to see how the black evening suit fitted the broadness of his shoulders, the trousers tailored to the lean length of his legs.
At thirty-seven Joshua was still probably the most handsome man she had ever seen, his hair dark and thick, tinged with grey at the temples, his eyes a deep piercing grey, his nose long and straight, his mouth a thin uncompromising line, the firmness of the jaw telling of the authority that came as a second nature to him.
The grey eyes were hooded now, almost expressionless as he looked down at her. ‘Congratulations.’ His voice was low and controlled, almost as expressionless as his eyes.
Looking at him now Joanna could see that he too had changed since their marriage five years ago, that there was hardly a trace left of the man she had first met and been instantly attracted to. Deep lines of cynicism were now grooved beside his mouth, and she could see the years hadn’t dealt kindly with him. Could it be that Joshua was as dissatisfied with their marriage as she was? His affair with Angela seemed to say he was.
‘Your mother telephoned me,’ he explained at her silence, moving to sit in the chair across from her. ‘She told me about the book. You must be very proud.’ He sipped his whisky.
‘Yes,’ she nodded.
The grey eyes narrowed, fine lines fanning out from their corners. ‘She also seemed concerned about you.’
Her shoulders stiffened at her mother’s underhand method of interfering. ‘I can’t imagine why,’ she dismissed coldly.
‘You are looking pale—’
‘That’s because I’m hungry!’ She stood up, determinedly putting an end to the conversation. ‘Shall we go through to dinner?’
‘Of course,’ he nodded abruptly, and stood up too, at least a foot taller than she was.
In that moment Joanna wondered where all the charm and laughter had gone from his handsome face, noticing that his muscled body was leaner too, that his cheeks were almost hollow beneath the healthy tan, his long hands still strong and dependable, although they too looked leaner. Yes, Joshua was far from happy in this marriage too.
Their conversation was slow and impersonal through dinner, as it usually was, Joshua asking her a little about the book; but her abrupt replies were not encouraging. Joshua refused wine with his meal and also a brandy afterwards, and Joanna knew what that meant.
‘I have to go back to the clinic for a few hours,’ he told her as he replaced his empty coffee cup on the tray.
‘Yes.’ She had known what was coming.
He seemed to hesitate. ‘What will you do?’
‘Have an early night. Read a book.’ She shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about me, I have plenty to do.’
He was frowning darkly. ‘But I do worry about you, Joanna. You must get very lonely here on your own in the evenings when I go back to work…?’
No,’ she told him coolly. ‘I find ways of occupying my time.’
‘I’ll go and change, then.’ He turned abruptly, going up to his bedroom.
Joanna dismissed the housekeeper for the night once she had come in to remove the coffee tray, and went slowly up to her own room. She could hear Joshua in the adjoining bathroom, and suddenly the idea of a long soak beneath scented bubbles seemed very appealing. She undressed to don her silk robe, sitting down in front of the dressing-table to cleanse off her make-up.
She heard Joshua leave the bathroom a few minutes later and so she went through herself. Everything had been left as neat and tidy as usual, not even the toothpaste tube out of place, squeezed meticulously from the bottom.
She ran the water into the deep sunken bath before searching through the bathroom cabinet. The wide cuff of her robe caught the top of a medicine bottle, unbalancing it, and Joanna watched as it fell, almost in slow motion it seemed, to shatter on the floor.
The adjoining bathroom door was instantly flung open, and Joshua took in the situation at a glance. He was dressed for work now in one of his superbly tailored three-piece suits, grey tonight, with a white silk shirt. ‘Don’t move,’ he instructed tautly.
But his warning came too late. His unwarranted presence here when she was dressed in only a robe caused an involuntary reaction in her, and she stepped backwards, straight on to the glass, gasping her pain as a piece pierced the sole of her foot.
‘Stand still!’ Joshua rasped as she would have moved once again, crunching across the glass in his shoes to swing her up into his arms and carry her through to her bedroom.
Joanna froze at his physical contact with him, lying stiffly in his arms, beginning to breathe again only when he had placed her on the bed and moved down to examine her foot. If he were aware of her aversion to his touch he gave no sign of it, treating her as impersonally as he would any other patient.
‘It doesn’t look too bad,’ he straightened. ‘I’ll just get something to clean it.’ He went back into the bathroom, turning off the bath-taps as he did so.
Joanna took this few moments to collect her thoughts together, to try and gauge her reaction to being touched by Joshua after all this time. She didn’t have one, not revulsion, and certainly not excitement. It had been as if she were being touched by a stranger, and not the man she had shared her most intimate moments with, not the man she had once loved so much. Where had all that love gone?—because it certainly had gone!
She could look at Joshua now and see all the things she hadn’t seen in the beginning, the coldness in his eyes, the lack of emotion in his handsome face, the flashes of hardness she often felt in his actions. Yes, she could see it all now, now that it was five years too late.
He was back in her bedroom now, bending over her foot. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured at her gasp, the jagged-looking piece of glass now in his hand, a wad of gauze stopping the flow of blood. ‘Does it hurt?’ he asked softly as he bandaged the foot after cleaning it.
‘Not too badly,’ she shrugged off the digging pain she could still feel. ‘Aren’t I lucky my husband is a doctor? she added lightly.
Joshua looked up with a heavy frown, searching her face for signs of the sarcasm evident in her voice. ‘Yes,’ he answered abruptly, his mouth tight, finishing off the bandage before straightening. ‘That should be all right now, but the bath is out, I’m afraid.’
‘It’s only a question of keeping my foot out of the water—isn’t it?’ she said sharply.
He shrugged. ‘Yes.’
‘Then I’ll still have my bath—thank you.’
His mouth twisted. ‘Go ahead. I’ll just go and clean up the mess in the—’
‘I’ll do it.’ Joanna flushed, and swung her legs to the floor, pulling her robe hurriedly together as it parted slightly to reveal her nakedness.
Joshua turned away uninterestedly. ‘Please let me do it,’ he said hardly. ‘I wouldn’t like there to be any more accidents.’
Her eyes flashed her resentment of his patronishing tone. ‘Do it, then,’ she dismissed curtly.
With a coldly assessing glance in her direction he went into the bathroom, leaving Joanna seething. Anyone would think she had knocked the damned bottle over on purpose!
‘All done.’ He was back within minutes. ‘What were you doing in that side of the cabine
t anyway?’ he asked mildly.
‘Looking for something,’ she mumbled, unable to meet his gaze. They each had their own side of the spacious bathroom cabinet, and she was as aware as he that she had knocked the bottle from his side.
Joshua didn’t move, dominating the room with his height and breadth. ‘What?’
‘Just something,’ she snapped. ‘Look, I couldn’t find what I was looking for in my side, so I wondered if Mrs Barnaby had put it back in your side this morning when she tidied up,’ she defended as he still seemed to be waiting for his answer. ‘It was as simple as that. Anyway, I’ve remembered now that I threw the empty packet away yesterday.’ The colour in her cheeks seemed to be a permanent fixture, heightening Joshua’s curiosity, she felt sure.
Heavens, it was months since they had talked as much as this—and she wished they weren’t talking now!
‘What was it?’ he asked softly. ‘Perhaps I have some I can let you have.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Tell me and maybe—’
‘No!’
His eyes narrowed at her uncontrollable outburst. ‘What was it, Joanna?’ His tone was inflexible, demanding an answer this time.
Her head went back in anger, her expression resentful. ‘What do you think it was?’
‘I have no idea.’ He spoke deceptively low, the hard determination of his jaw belying that tone. ‘Tell me.’
It was a command, not a request, and Joanna knew it. If only she hadn’t upset that medicine bottle!
‘It wasn’t drugs, was it, Joanna?’ he rasped at her continued silence.
‘Drugs?’ she repeated astoundedly, her eyes wide with indignation at the suggestion.
‘You’ve been very withdrawn lately—’
‘Not because I’m some sort of pill-popper!’ She was outraged even at the thought of it.
The Failed Marriage (Presents Plus) Page 2