The Yuletide Bride: 1781 (Wedlocked!)

by Mary Lyons

  ‘That was wonderful! As my father, who liked to quote from the Bible, would have said: “A good woman’s price is far above rubies”,’ he grinned, leaning back in his chair as she rose to clear the plates from the table.

  ‘Since your wild, teenage behaviour meant that no housekeeper ever stayed at the vicarage for more than a few weeks, I’m not at all surprised that it was one of your father’s favourite quotations,’ she retorted sourly. ‘Do you want some coffee?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ he said before giving a rueful shake of his head. ‘You’re quite right, of course. Poor old Dad. I really was pretty appalling in those days, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, you certainly were.’ Tearing her eyes away from his dynamically masculine figure, she tried to control her nervously trembling hands as she scooped freshly ground coffee into a jug before placing the heavy steel kettle on the stove. ‘In fact,’ she added waspishly, ‘I can’t see that you’ve altered in any way.’

  He rose slowly to his feet. ‘Now, that’s where you’re quite wrong. Believe me, Amber, it would be a grave mistake to think that I’m still the poor, deluded young fool that you once knew,’ he drawled, a threatening note of menace underlying his words. ‘I can assure you that a great deal of water has passed under the bridge since then.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it has,’ she muttered before taking a deep breath and forcing herself to turn and face him. ‘Look—why don’t we cut out all this nonsense and get straight to the point?’ she demanded. ‘I want to know why it’s taken you over three weeks to return here to Elmbridge. And exactly what is it you want from me?’

  He stared at her in silence for a moment before giving a shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘I couldn’t return here before now because I’ve been away in America on business. And we’ll come to what I want in a moment. But before doing so—I’d be interested in hearing the answer to a minor question, which has been puzzling me for some time.’

  ‘And that is...?’

  ‘It’s ancient history now, of course. But I’ve often wondered if Clive Stanhope ever found out that you’d been two-timing him with me all those years ago?’

  Amber’s jaw dropped as she gazed at him in astonishment. Having steeled herself to face yet another interrogation, together with ruthless demands for access to her small daughter, she was now feeling totally bewildered and confused. Two-timing him...with Clive? What on earth was he talking about?

  Viewing the girl who was staring at him with dazed, stunned eyes, Max gave another wry shrug of his shoulders. ‘It’s merely an academic question now, of course, since the guy is dead. But what I’ve never been able to understand, Amber...’ he paused, his lips twisting sardonically as he raised a dark eyebrow, ‘is why you were also having an affair with Clive—of all people!’

  ‘You never liked him, did you?’

  Max shook his head as her bitter retort seemed to echo around the quiet room. ‘No. You’re quite right, I didn’t,’ he agreed slowly. ‘I was, of course, genuinely very sorry to hear about his fatal accident. However, to tell the truth, I’d always regarded Clive as basically a spoiled brat—a weak personality with far too much money for his own good. But you clearly thought otherwise, hmm?’

  ‘Yes, I most certainly did! Because, as far as I’m concerned, Clive was one of the nicest men I’ve ever known,’ she retorted furiously. ‘He may have gone slightly off the rails when he was younger, and I’d have to admit that he was always fairly hopeless with money. But Clive was basically a sweet, kind-hearted and generous man who was very, very good to me,’ she added vehemently as Max walked slowly towards her.

  He gave a scornful laugh. ‘Since you’re now living such a comfortable, easy life in one of the largest houses in the district—the sale of which is likely to make you a wealthy woman—it certainly seems that Clive was very good to you. Very good indeed!’

  ‘How dare you insinuate that I married poor Clive for his money. You...you know absolutely nothing about my way of life,’ she cried, almost choking with rage and fury.

  But when he gave yet another caustic laugh of sheer disbelief, something seemed to snap in Amber’s brain. Almost without knowing what she was doing, and intent only on removing that contemptuous, scathing expression from his face, her hand flashed up to slap him hard on the cheek.

  There was a long, deathly silence, broken only by the sound of Max’s sharp intake of breath as he stared down at her, his blue eyes as hard and cold as ice.

  ‘That was a very stupid thing to do,’ he grated harshly.

  ‘I...I’m not sorry. It serves you right for being so despicable,’ Amber gasped, backing nervously away from his tall, rigidly angry figure, her retreat abruptly halted as she felt her spine jar against the hard steel edge of the sink unit.

  ‘You can’t bear to face the truth, can you?’ he snarled, raising his hands to clasp hold of her slim shoulders, and staring down into her defiant, angry green eyes. ‘And the truth, as we both know, is that you’re nothing but a money-grubbing, two-timing bitch!’

  ‘My God, that’s rich!’ she cried. ‘Especially from you, of all people! “First he loved her—then he left her” was your theme song, remember?’ she ground out bitterly, trying without success to escape from the tall figure looming over her. ‘Only, in my case, you left me holding the baby. So, if you really want to see a lousy, rotten, two-timing bastard, why not take a good look at yourself in the mirror?’

  There was a long silence as the aggression seemed to drain away from Max’s stiff, rigid figure, his face pale and strained as he stared intently down at her, his dark brows drawn together in a deep frown.

  ‘Are you seriously trying to tell me...?’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of trying to tell you anything. You’re the one who claims to know it all,’ she snapped nervously as he leaned forward, raising his hands to slowly and deliberately wind his fingers through her golden brown hair.

  ‘I certainly once thought that I knew you,’ he murmured.

  Amber stiffened, warning bells jangling loudly in her brain as she noted the oddly thick, husky note in his voice. Oh, Heavens! she told herself wildly. She must get away from this highly dangerous man—and as quickly as possible.

  ‘Yes, well, we all make mistakes,’ she muttered breathlessly, trying to wriggle out from beneath his long, tall figure. But Amber realised that she’d left it too late as she felt his fingers tightening in her hair, holding her firmly imprisoned against him.

  Desperately trying to maintain the force of her anger and fury, she was dismayed to find it swiftly draining away. Her senses seemed bemused by the enticing masculine scent of his cologne, while tremors of sensual excitement were rippling through her body in response to the warmth of the long, muscular thighs touching her own.

  Despite knowing—who better?—that Max was a cold-hearted Casanova with all the morals of an alley cat, she couldn’t seem to control a treacherous weakness from invading her quivering limbs. Time seemed suspended as she felt a hand moving slowly down her back to clasp her tightly about the waist, hot shivers gripping her stomach as he pulled her even closer to his hard, firm body, whose rapidly pounding heart seemed to be beating in unison with her own.

  ‘No!’ she gasped, struggling helplessly within the iron strength of his embrace as his dark head came slowly and inexorably down towards her, his mouth possessing her lips in a kiss of such burning intensity that desire seemed to explode like a firework inside her.

  Helplessly trying to cling on to reality, she could feel it quickly slipping away in a mist of rising passion. She was only aware of a feverish, long-denied hunger—a compulsive need to respond to the fiercely invasive heat of his tongue, and the erotic touch of the hands sweeping down over her hips, fiercely pulling her soft body even closer to his tall, muscular frame. And it seemed as if she was caught up in a sudden frenzy of desire, moaning helplessly as she raised her arms to clasp him tightly about the neck, convulsively burying her fingers in his dark, curly hair.

  ‘Amb
er...!’ She hardly heard the deep, ragged groan as his lips left hers, feathering down her neck to seek the softly scented hollow at the base of her throat. As he raised a hand to caress the soft curve of her breast, his fingers brushed over the hard firm peak, causing a fierce shaft of pleasure to flash through her trembling figure. Trapped in a dizzy haze of scorching excitement, it was only when she became aware of the increasingly loud, strident whistle from the kettle she’d placed on the stove that cold reality began to break through the thick mist of passion and desire.

  ‘Ignore it!’ Max grunted impatiently as she began struggling to release herself from his embrace. But the magic, enchanted spell that he’d woven was now utterly destroyed, and with a sob she tore herself from his arms.

  Shaking as if in the grip of a raging fever, her trembling legs almost gave way beneath her as she staggered across the room to the stove. Making sure that she had the safety of the kitchen table between them, she fought to control her ragged breathing, staring at Max in horror and dismay.

  What on earth was happening to her? This was the second time that she’d found herself in his arms—and in the space of less than two hours. It was almost unbelievable! But unfortunately, and despite his total betrayal of her in the past, it looked as if she was still pathetically susceptible to Max’s fatal, dark attraction—an attraction that, as she now bitterly reminded herself, had already caused her untold suffering and torment.

  ‘I...I thought you said earlier, upstairs in the bedroom, that you weren’t going to make that sort of “mistake”, ever again,’ she accused him bleakly.

  ‘Yes, I believe I did say something of the sort,’ he agreed with a mocking smile.

  ‘So...?’ she demanded indignantly.

  He gave a careless shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘It looks as though I must have changed my mind, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Well, you can just change your mind right back again,’ she ground out furiously. ‘How you had the sheer nerve to say all those horrid things...’ She waved her hands distractedly in the air. ‘I don’t care what you say about me, but I won’t hear a word against poor Clive.’

  ‘You asked for my opinion of your late husband,’ Max pointed out quietly. ‘However, I’ve no wish to speak ill of the dead, and I’m sincerely sorry if I’ve upset you in any way. After all, it’s true to say that I hardly knew the guy, and so...’

  ‘No, you didn’t know him at all,’ she flashed back indignantly. ‘Because, when I was at my lowest ebb—not only having been deserted by you, but desperately worried about my mother, and almost suicidal with panic and fear at finding myself pregnant—it was Clive Stanhope who came to my rescue. So, don’t you ever dare to make any more sneering remarks about a man who, out of the sheer kindness of his heart, provided a home for my family.

  ‘And now,’ she continued grimly, pleased to note that Max wasn’t attempting to say anything, his face a blank mask as he stared silently at her across the kitchen. ‘This seems to be the perfect time to show you over the house. I’m sure that you’ll be interested to view my “rich inheritance” and in seeing just what an “easy, comfortable life” I have here,’ she added sarcastically, not waiting to see whether he was following her as she stalked angrily from the room.

  * * *

  ‘Well—have you got the message at last?’ she demanded some time later, throwing open the door of yet another room. Like so many of the others that she’d shown him, it was stripped of all carpets, curtains and furniture, consisting only of bare floorboards and blank walls.

  Max’s increasingly grim, stern expression as he’d followed her silently through the house from one empty room to another should have provided a sweet revenge for all the unkind, malicious remarks that he’d made earlier about her supposedly glamorous lifestyle. But Amber now found herself suddenly feeling weary of the whole exercise.

  ‘There’s lots more rooms like this, of course,’ she told him with a heavy sigh. ‘The truth is that we’re more or less flat broke. Clive had gone through most of his inheritance long before he married me. But it didn’t seem to matter when he was alive. I was just so happy to have a roof over my head and to be able to look after my mother and the baby. After Clive’s death...’ She paused for a moment. ‘Well, for the past few years, I’ve been taking in paying guests to help pay some of the household bills. But now, without going into all the boring details, I’m having to sell this house simply because I can’t borrow any more money to feed and clothe the family. In fact,’ she gave a wry smile as she waved a tired hand around the empty room, ‘your accusation that I married Clive just because he was a rich man now seems to be a bit of a grim joke, doesn’t it?’

  Max didn’t immediately reply, giving her a sharp, penetrating glance from beneath his dark brows before walking slowly across the old oak floorboards covered in dust to gaze blindly out of a window.

  ‘It looks as though I owe you a deep apology,’ he said at last, his husky voice echoing eerily in the empty room as he continued to stare through the window at the parkland, now slowly becoming less visible in the softly gathering darkness of the late winter’s afternoon. ‘It’s no excuse, of course, but I just assumed...’ He paused, swearing softly under his breath as he brushed a hand roughly through his thick, curly dark hair. ‘So, all those old portraits and antique furniture downstairs...?’

  ‘Nothing but pure window dressing,’ she told the man, who was still standing with his back to her. ‘As you’ve seen, the entrance hall, sitting and dining rooms are still furnished more or less as they always were. Our own bedrooms are a bit Spartan, with just the basic necessities. However, I’ve managed to keep three guest-rooms in a fairly decent state, for when we have visitors. But that’s it. Everything else went to the saleroom a long time ago.’

  ‘For God’s sake!’ he exploded as he whirled around to face her. ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me? I could have taken care of you all. There would have been no need for you to sell either the house or your possessions.’ His lips tightened with anger as he gazed about the empty room.

  She stared at him, completely dumbfounded for a moment, before leaning weakly against the wall, her slim frame shaking with hysterical laughter. ‘Oh, Max, you’re absolutely priceless!’ She shook her head, lifting a shaking hand to wipe tears of helpless mirth from her eyes.

  ‘I can’t see what’s so damn funny about your situation!’ he grated angrily.

  ‘Because, if I didn’t laugh at such a ridiculously stupid statement, I’d probably scream with frustration and rage.’ She gave a weary shake of her head. ‘For Heaven’s sake, I thought you were supposed to be such a clever, successful businessman. Haven’t you yet worked out exactly why I accepted Clive’s kind, generous offer of marriage?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’d always thought...I just assumed that you’d decided he was a better matrimonial prospect. After all, I hadn’t anything to offer you at the time, and...’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, don’t be such an idiot,’ she retorted impatiently. ‘The answer is, in fact, a very simple one. I couldn’t tell you anything about myself and the baby because I had absolutely no way of contacting you.’

  ‘That’s simply not true!’ he growled fiercely.

  ‘What isn’t true?’ she demanded bleakly. ‘The fact that you professed undying love and wanted to marry me? Or that after leaving me pregnant, you quickly skipped the country?’

  ‘I promise you, I had absolutely no idea that you were expecting a baby,’ he assured her earnestly, his face pale beneath its tan as he gazed at her with a tense, strained expression.

  ‘You may not have been aware of my pregnancy—something that even I didn’t know about until it was far too late. But you’d still disappeared off the face of the earth, making damn sure that I didn’t have your new address in America. Right?’

  ‘No! You’re damn well wrong!’ he ground out through clenched teeth, swearing violently under his breath as he began pacing up and down the room. ‘How can you possibly belie
ve that I set out to deliberately deceive you? For God’s sake, Amber, you must know that I’d never do such a thing.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ she enquired with grim irony. ‘Well, short of taking up clairvoyance, or placing a “Wanted” poster in every town in the United States, I’ll be fascinated to hear just how I was supposed to get in touch with you. Even if I’d ever wanted to see you again—which I most certainly did not.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ he growled.

  ‘You’re quite right,’ she snapped. ‘I never did “understand” your rotten behaviour. And, quite frankly, it’s now far too late for me to care one way or another,’ she added with a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling tired to death of the whole wretched story.

  So often, in the past, she had dreamed of being able to tell Max exactly what she thought of his vile, treacherous behaviour. But now that he was actually standing here in front of her, it all seemed so pointless somehow. In fact, by raking up the painful events that had taken place so many years ago, it looked as though she’d only succeeded in causing herself even more distress.

  ‘You’ve got to let me explain...’

  ‘Oh, no, I haven’t! I’m simply not interested—and it’s far too late for any “explanations”. It’s been eight years since you callously dumped me. Eight years in which I’ve made a new life for both myself and my daughter. And now, if you’ll excuse me...’ she added, glancing down at the watch on her wrist, ‘I must go and dig up some vegetables before the light goes. Please feel free to continue your tour of this house, which, as we both know, you have no intention of buying,’ she added grimly, before swiftly leaving the room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE clink of glasses and the noisy, cheerful sound of raised voices and laughter filled the large main area of the old Assembly Rooms.