She moistened her dry lips, aware that this conversation wasn’t at all as she had envisaged it. It sounded as if Joshua was leaving her!
‘The offer from the States was there, and I felt we needed to be away from each other for a while.’
‘This last year—’
‘We’ve continued to live together,’ he said grimly. ‘And it’s been a disaster.’ He sighed deeply. ‘You can’t be separated and still live in the same house, it just doesn’t work.’
‘No,’ she agreed huskily. ‘So that’s what we’re doing, separating?’
Joshua looked down at her with narrowed eyes. ‘It’s what you want, isn’t it?’ he rasped.
‘Yes.’
He nodded abruptly. ‘It’s what I feel we should do too.’
It had all been so much easier than she had thought. For all that they had drifted apart this past year she hadn’t expected Joshua to be quite so amenable about their divorce. It left her with a feeling of anti-climax.
‘—and see how we both feel then,’ Joshua concluded.
Joanna blinked, frowning her consternation. ‘Sorry?’ she said uncertainly, so deep in thought she had missed the rest of what he was saying.
‘Joanna, this would be so much easier if you would just listen,’ he snapped impatiently. ‘I’m proposing a year’s separation, completely no contact with each other, and then after that time, when my contract in the States is up, seeing how we both feel about our marriage.’
‘But I thought—We aren’t getting a divorce?’
His mouth tightened. ‘No.’
‘Why aren’t we?’ she frowned.
‘Because it’s too damned easy, that’s why!’ he bit out furiously, his eyes stormy. ‘Any kind of severing of a relationship is too easy nowadays.’
‘But we never had any real relationship,’ she protested. ‘We were married because of Lindy, and now she—she’s—there’s no need to go on with the marriage any more now she’s gone.’
‘What’s one more year out of your life, Joanna?’ he asked coldly.
‘You’ve already had five!’ Tears glistened in her deep blue eyes.
He seemed to pale, a nerve beating erratically in his cheek. ‘And in another year you’ll still only be twenty-four. Give me one more year, Joanna.’
‘No…’ she shook her head.
‘Please!’
She swallowed hard, never having known him plead for anything before. ‘What good would it do?’ she sighed. ‘Nothing will have changed in a year.’
‘I’m hoping we both will have.’
‘But the situation won’t! I’ll still be married to you and wishing I weren’t, and you’ll still be married to me and wishing you weren’t. I know you’re taking Angela with you, Joshua,’ she told him softly. ‘Am I supposed to sit here in London waiting faithfully for my husband to come back from a year spent with his mistress?’ she scorned.
‘No,’ he rasped. ‘You’re supposed to go out and find yourself a lover for a year!’
‘What?’ she gasped weakly.
‘We’ll be totally separated, Joanna,’ he informed her harshly. ‘Live our own lives, have our own friends. You, and I, will be totally free to be with whom we like, sleep with whom we like, for that year.’
CHAPTER FIVE
SHE stared at him incredulously, going to speak several times, but unable to get the words out. She hadn’t even guessed Joshua meant to come out with such a plan, had had no warning, and was consequently speechless.
‘Well?’ he finally prompted harshly.
‘We might as well be divorced,’ she frowned.
‘No,’ he bit out. ‘This way we have another chance.’
‘How many do we need?’ she derided.
Joshua’s mouth tightened at her sarcasm. ‘We don’t need any, we’re giving ourselves this one.’
‘But what’s the point?’
‘The point is that we’re married,’ he rasped. ‘The vows I made to you five years ago meant something to me then and they mean something to me now. If after this year away from each other you’ve made a separate life for yourself, don’t—don’t need me any more, then I’ll give you your divorce.’
‘And if I won’t agree to the year?’
‘Then you’ll have to wait two years to divorce me, because I’ll never agree to it now!’
She searched the harshness of his face, knew by the icy fire in his eyes, his flared nostrils, the uncompromising tightness of his mouth, that he meant it. Another two years tied to this man? She couldn’t stand it!
‘What are the arrangements?’ she asked dully.
His mouth twisted mockingly at her capitulation. ‘I thought you might see reason once I’d explained the circumstances to you.’ He moved to pour himself another drink. ‘Are you sure I can’t get you something?’
‘Whisky,’ she requested abruptly. ‘Neat.’
He ignored the latter request, adding a liberal amount of water plus ice to her drink. ‘We may as well both be sober while we discuss this separation,’ he smiled tightly, handing her the glass before sitting opposite her.
He was so supremely confident, always had been, and Joanna had never quite lost that feeling of being a child when she was with him. Which was ridiculous in the circumstances—she had been a wife and mother for five years!
‘I suggest you stay here in the house—’
‘No,’ she instantly refused.
He looked at her warily. ‘No?’
She shook her head. ‘You said—you said we would live our own lives, have our own—friends. I could hardly bring any men back here,’ she derided.
Joshua nodded, swallowing some of his whisky. ‘Point taken. You’ll take a flat in town?’
How could he discuss the idea of her having other men if there was a vestige of feeling for her in his heart? She didn’t think he could. The fact that he intended spending the next year with Angela Hailey filled her with disgust rather than any other emotion, evidence of her own lack of love for him. But how did he really feel about the possibility of her having other men during his absence, how could he feel when he discussed it so unemotionally?
‘Joshua—’
‘I’ve seen some rather nice ones in Hampstead. Perhaps we could go and look at them before I leave?’
‘I’ll go on my own,’ she told him firmly. ‘And I’ll choose my home on my own. Hampstead is too near my moth—my parents,’ she amended with a blush.
‘Very well,’ Joshua agreed distantly.
Joanna’s brows rose at his easy acceptance of her stubbornness over her future home. She had become so accustomed to Joshua making the decisions in their marriage that the thought of having a year of freedom, of doing what she wanted, living where she wanted, filled her with elation.
‘When do you leave?’ she asked now.
His mouth twisted with wry humour. ‘Can’t wait to see me go, hmm?’ he mocked.
She gave a shrug of nonchalance. ‘I imagined you couldn’t wait to get away. I’m sure Angela is—very eager.’
‘Angela is going as my secretary, Joanna,’ he told her tautly.
‘That isn’t an original name for it,’ she derided.
His mouth tightened as she mocked him. Joshua wasn’t a man that you dared scorn, not if you wanted to escape unscathed. She had been stupid and naïve not to have seen the hard ruthlessness in him when they had met five years ago.
‘It will be her official title nonetheless,’ he rasped abruptly.
She raised blonde brows. ‘And her unofficial one?’
‘Joanna—’
‘You don’t deny that you’re having an affair with her, do you, Joshua?’ she scorned. ‘Just how long has it been going on?’ she queried lightly.
‘I really don’t see why—’
‘I need to know?’ she finished with sarcasm. ‘Don’t they say the wife is always the last to know? I just want to know how long people have been gossiping about my husband and his secretary.’
; ‘I haven’t been aware that any one has,’ he said with arrogance.
‘Of course you haven’t,’ she snapped. ‘They gossip about you, not to you. How long have you been seeing Angela away from work?’
He seemed to hesitate, his eyes a cold grey, then he nodded, shrugging. ‘I’ve slept with Angela for six months,’ he stated distantly.
Joanna didn’t know why she was stunned by this admission, she had always known Joshua was a highly sensual man, that until Lindy died they had known a very physical marriage. It had been almost a year since she had denied him access to her bed and her body, and to his credit he had remained faithful for six months of that time.
‘That means it’s probably been public knowledge for at least five months of that time,’ she told him stiffly.
‘We’ve been very discreet—’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ she shook her head. ‘Someone always finds out.’
‘Perhaps,’ he acknowledged distantly. ‘And to get back to your original question, I leave in six weeks. Can you stand to have me about for that long?’ he mocked hardly.
‘I think so,’ she answered coldly. ‘Although I would prefer it if we could keep to ourselves the fact that I won’t be leaving with you for the moment.’
‘Why?’ His eyes were narrowed.
She sighed. ‘I’m really not in the mood for one of my mother’s lectures at the moment. I certainly couldn’t stand six weeks of them!’
‘No,’ he ackowledged derisively. ‘Neither could I. Very well, Joanna,’ he stood up, ‘for now we keep our separation to ourselves. Although I insist that your parents be told before I leave.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I want them to realise it was a joint decision,’ he said curtly. ‘Your mother hasn’t always been kind to you in the past.’
‘You noticed!’
‘Don’t be flippant, Joanna,’ he dismissed harshly. ‘I just don’t want anyone to get the idea that either of us is in the wrong; we just need a breathing space from each other, time to know what we really want. I want your parents to understand that.’
Joanna was grateful for his thoughtfulness. Since the time she had ‘let down’ her parents—her mother’s words, not her own—by becoming pregnant before she was married, it had been an uphill effort for her to do anything right in their eyes. In the end she didn’t even try any more; her mother’s criticism had been very biting, her praise of Joshua unshakeable. If her mother believed she had wanted this separation from Joshua, that she had asked for it, her life wouldn’t be worth living.
As it was, her mother was very voluble in her disapproval of Joshua going to America without Joanna. Joshua had decided the week before his departure that her parents should be told the truth, and during that last Sunday lunch with them he told them. They both showed stunned surprise, although neither probed too deeply at the time, seeming to accept that it was their decision and their decision alone.
When Joanna met her mother for lunch the next day it was a different matter!
‘Are you mad, Joanna?’ she demanded heatedly. ‘A year’s separation from a man like Joshua could turn into a permanent one!’
‘It’s his decision,’ Joanna shrugged.
‘One I’m sure you could have talked him out of if you’d wanted to,’ her mother insisted waspishly.
‘Maybe I didn’t want to.’
‘It isn’t because of your writing, is it?’ she frowned. ‘I’ve heard Joshua say nothing but praise about this new career you’ve found for yourself. Besides, you can write anywhere, you don’t have to stay in London for it.’
Joanna had seen James Colnbrook several times during the last few weeks, had signed a contract with him to do several more books, had also had it arranged for her to meet Dan Cameron, the man who was to illustrate the first book, and the others too once she had written them. Everything seemed to be running smoothly in that direction, even the second ‘Billy’ book was starting to take shape in her mind.
‘Joshua doesn’t want me to go with him, Mother, it was his suggestion that he go alone.’
‘Taking Angela Hailey isn’t exactly going alone!’ her mother derided cuttingly.
‘No, but there’s a difference—he wants Angela with him.’
‘I can’t believe you’re taking this so calmly, Joanna,’ her mother gasped. ‘I really think you’re making a mistake.’
‘That’s my prerogative.’
‘Don’t be foolish, Joanna! And this business of moving into your own flat—’
‘Is my business,’ she cut in abruptly. ‘Joshua has seen it, and he approves.’ Despite misgivings she had finally agreed to show Joshua her flat, expecting him to criticise its smallness, to be angry at her decision to live alone without servants. He had said nothing.
Her mother gave an impatient sigh. ‘The two of you are behaving ridiculously!’
‘Do you think so?’ she mused. ‘I thought we were acting very maturely. And we aren’t the first couple to try a trial separation.’
‘I realise that,’ her mother snapped. ‘But these trial separations often become a permanent arrangement.’
Joanna shrugged. ‘I’m sure that in those cases it’s the best thing for everyone concerned.’
‘If Lindy were alive there would be no question of separation!’
She paled at the mention of her daughter, looking at her mother with cold eyes. ‘But Lindy isn’t alive,’ she rasped. ‘And Joshua and I are both old enough to make our own decisions.’
‘But—’
‘I don’t wish to discuss it any further, Mother.’ She looked at her with steely eyes.
Her mother’s mouth set in frustrated anger, but no more criticism was forthcoming for the moment.
* * *
Joanna met Dan Cameron for the first time later in the week, instantly liking the tall redhaired Scot, finding his biting humour amusing, his wicked mockery of James Colbrook’s seriousness as he introduced them proving to be hilarious. James had left them shortly after the initial introduction, claiming a prior engagement, and Joanna looked around the untidiness of Dan’s studio with interest.
‘I read the book, by the way.’ He followed her about the room as she looked at the sketches pinned to the walls with coloured studs.
While she was being introduced to Dan, a matt of about thirty, she would guess, she had compared him to Joshua, as she had every other man she had met the last five years, and found him to be the exact opposite in everything to her husband. His copper-coloured hair was worn long and untidy, nothing like Joshua’s neat style, Dan’s face full of humour, laughter lines beside his eyes and mouth, Joshua’s normal expression one of austerity, Dan’s way of dressing casual, a ragged teeshirt and faded denims, even Joshua’s casual clothing superbly tailored.
She liked Dan on sight, and she turned to smile at him shyly now. ‘You did?’ she grimaced. ‘I—What did you think of it? No, strike that question,’ she frowned. ‘That was unfair of me.’
‘I liked it,’ he told her cheerfully. ‘Billy reminded me of a dog I had when I was a kid.’
‘Me too! I mean—he was a dog I had when I was a child,’ she blushed.
‘I guessed that,’ he nodded. ‘Do you happen to have a photograph of him?’
Joanna frowned. ‘Why?’ she asked in a puzzled voice.
‘You have the final okay on any illustrations I do, right?’
Joshua had taken an interest in the contract she was to sign with the publishing company, and had taken it to a lawyer to be checked over first. The stipulation about the illustrations had been only one of the changes the lawyer had advised. When Joanna had seen some of the others she had wondered if perhaps Joshua was trying to lose her the contract, sure that James Colnbrook couldn’t agree to any of them. He had agreed to them all.
‘Yes,’ she confirmed, still puzzled.
‘And it could take me days just to find the right sort of format for Billy, let alone the other characters in the book. If I could h
ave a photograph of the original dog I’m sure I could come up with exactly what you want.’ He grinned in triumph at his reasoning.
‘Very clever,’ she drawled, opening her clutch-bag to take out her wallet. ‘I only have this one of him, so don’t lose it,’ she warned as she searched through the contents of her wallet.
Dan held up his hands defensively, his brown eyes warm. ‘I’ll guard it with my life,’ he promised teasingly.
At the time that she had Billy Joanna hadn’t had a camera of her own, and quite by chance her mother had taken a photograph of him as he played in the garden with a ball. The photograph was primarily of Joanna, but as soon as her mother had seen Billy was in the background she had thrown it away in disgust. Joanna had retrieved it from the bin as soon as she could, and it had stayed with her ever since, cut down to size, her own girlish figure no longer there as she shaped it to fit in her wallet.
‘Ah, here we are.’ She pulled out the slightly faded photograph, dropping several others on the floor in the process. ‘Damn!’ She bent down to pick them up.
So did Dan Cameron, and the two of them bumped heads. He looked at her with pained eyes, rubbing his forehead. ‘I didn’t realise it was dark enough for stars!’ He blinked to clear his head.
Joanna laughed lightly, massaging her own bruised forehead, feeling a slight lump there already.
Dan’s humour faded, his eyes taking on a deep glow as he looked at her. ‘You’re really quite beautiful when you laugh,’ he said huskily.
She stiffened, her own humour fading; she was unused to such compliments, knowing he was flirting with her. ‘Thank you,’ she said abruptly. ‘Now would you mind helping me with these?’ She got down on the floor to pick up the scattered photographs.
He came down on his knees beside her, looking at each photograph as he picked it up.
‘They’re private,’ she snapped, glaring at him.
His brows rose at her vehemence. ‘I was only looking—’
‘Well, don’t!’ She snatched the photographs out of his hand, one of them fluttering down again in her haste to put them away.
The Failed Marriage (Presents Plus) Page 8