The Yuletide Bride: 1781 (Wedlocked!)

by Mary Lyons

  ‘Well, bully for you!’ she exclaimed impatiently. ‘However, I’ve lived in Elmbridge all my life, and Lucy was born and raised here. So, you can take it from me, that it’s only going to need one person to see the both of you together, and just about everyone else will know—inside twenty-four hours—that Clive had to marry me because I was expecting your illegitimate baby. But that’s only one small part of the problem,’ she added quickly as he stirred restlessly on the sofa. ‘You obviously don’t give a hoot about my good name—but what about Lucy? She’s only a little girl and hardly knows you from Adam. Can’t you imagine the shock and distress she’s going to feel, suddenly confronted by the fact that Clive wasn’t really her father? Not to mention the poor child having to put up with being teased and laughed at by all her schoolfriends. I won’t have her being subjected to...to that sort of ordeal!’ Amber glared at him, her fists clenched tightly in her lap. ‘There’s no way that I’ll let you ruin her life!’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, calm down!’ he told her sternly. ‘I’m well aware of the problems we have to face.’

  ‘There won’t be any “problems”—not if you drop your daft idea of buying this house,’ she retorted quickly. ‘All you have to do is to go straight back to London, or whatever, and I’ll make sure that Lucy visits you as often as you like. We can take our time in explaining that you’re her real father, and that way there won’t be any need for...’

  ‘No.’ He gave a firm shake of his dark head. ‘No, I’m afraid that idea of yours won’t work.’

  ‘But why not? So, OK, you’ve inherited your grandmother’s estate. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you have to live in Elmbridge,’ she pointed out, striving to sound calm and reasonable. ‘Even if you’re fed up with London, there’s bound to be some marvellous houses for sale not too far away. What about Cambridge, for instance? It’s a lovely university town, full of interesting people and only an hour away by car from Elmbridge. On top of which, there’s the Arts Theatre, regular concerts in the Guildhall, and—’ She broke off as she saw his lips twitching with suppressed laughter. ‘I don’t see what’s so damn funny,’ she ground out through clenched teeth, desperately striving to control an overwhelming urge to slap that supercilious grin off his face.

  ‘I was merely amused by your sales pitch for the City of Cambridge,’ he drawled. ‘However, while I agree that it’s a lovely town, I can assure you that I am definitely returning to live in Elmbridge, and that I have every intention of buying this house.’

  ‘But...but I don’t see why...’ Amber wailed, suddenly forced to realise that she had no hope of getting this arrogant man to listen to any sound, logical arguments. ‘Haven’t you any idea of what you’ll be doing to my family? Surely you ought to be able to understand...’ She waved a hand helplessly in the air.

  ‘I’ve heard a great deal regarding how you feel about the situation,’ he retorted grimly. ‘How about trying to understand my feelings for a change?’

  ‘What...what are you talking about?’

  ‘Have you actually bothered to think about anyone other than yourself? To wonder how I must have felt on suddenly discovering that I had a daughter?’ he demanded scathingly before rising impatiently to his feet and striding about the room. ‘Well, since it obviously hasn’t, I can tell you that I was completely and utterly shattered! One moment I was merely calling to view a house, which I’d been told was for sale, and then...’ He brushed a distracted hand through his thick, curly dark hair. ‘For God’s sake, Amber, that child is the spitting image of me. How in the hell did you think you could get away with claiming that Clive Stanhope was Lucy’s father?’

  ‘Clive had dark hair, although his was straight, of course. But children often have curly hair when they’re young...’ she muttered, her cheeks reddening as he gave a caustic snort of derision. ‘Besides, you’d left the area years ago. There was no reason for anyone to make the connection between you and Lucy.’

  ‘Did you ever intend to tell her the truth?’

  ‘No, why should I?’ Amber retorted defiantly. ‘You’d had your fun before callously deserting me and my unborn child. I didn’t—and I still don’t, for that matter—see any reason for upsetting Lucy or causing her any distress by telling her that Clive wasn’t her father. In fact, there was absolutely no problem. Not until you suddenly appeared out of nowhere—like the demon king in a pantomime,’ she added bitterly.

  ‘Thanks!’

  ‘Well, what do you expect? I’m hardly likely to hang out the flags and cry “whoopee!” Not like your old girlfriend, Cynthia.’ She gave a shrill, high-pitched laugh. ‘You may have only been back in the town for a day, but it looks as though she’s already chosen her wedding dress, and all set for a quick canter up the aisle!’

  ‘Can we please keep to the point at issue,’ Max told her brusquely. Although he did not, she noted grimly, disagree with her assessment: that Cynthia was hell-bent on marrying him as soon as possible. ‘My only concern at the moment is how both you and I can come to a sensible decision regarding Lucy’s future. That’s what you want, isn’t it?’ he demanded, sitting down on the sofa beside her.

  ‘What I want...what I want is for you to go away and leave us alone!’

  ‘Well, I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen. Come on, Amber, you must try and pull yourself together,’ he said in a softer tone of voice, taking her trembling hands in his. ‘You may wish me a million miles away. But unfortunately, there are several good and valid reasons—inheriting my grandmother’s estate, for instance—why I need to live in this area. I could possibly remain based in London, of course. But since I’m going to be visiting Elmbridge on a regular basis, you must see that it wouldn’t be long before people started talking about the startling resemblance between Lucy and myself.

  ‘I realise that my business trip to America came at a very bad time,’ he continued as she remained silent, her cheeks flushed as she stared down at her fingers clasped within his large hands. ‘However, once I’d recovered from the initial shock of discovering that I had a daughter, it did give me three weeks in which to think matters out. To decide on the best course of action—as far as Lucy is concerned. You and I may have messed up our lives,’ he added sternly, ‘but I’m sure you’ll agree that we must try and do better for our child.’

  She nodded, unable to speak because of a sudden heavy lump in her throat.

  ‘First and foremost, I want to see as much of Lucy as I can,’ he said firmly. ‘It may not have been anyone’s fault. But the fact remains that I’ve been denied any knowledge of her existence for the past seven years. I have no intention of being shut out of her life any longer.’

  ‘But...but it will be such a shock. I...I haven’t told her anything about the situation,’ Amber protested tearfully.

  ‘Relax! There’s absolutely no need for you to get into such a state,’ he said, placing a large white handkerchief in her trembling fingers. ‘I’m perfectly capable of realising that we’ll need time to get to know one another. Just as you must realise that I have no intention of trying to interfere with her place in your life. Or her memories of Clive.’

  ‘Lucy was only a baby when he died,’ Amber muttered, dabbing her eyes. ‘But I have tried to tell her as much as I can about him, so she didn’t feel too different from her friends.’

  ‘You’ve obviously done a splendid job rearing our daughter. From what little I’ve seen, she appears to be a delightful child,’ he told her warmly.

  ‘Yes...yes, she really is,’ Amber assured him, nervously twisting the handkerchief in her fingers. ‘But, even if you do want to get to know Lucy, I can’t see how to manage it. I mean...I know it’s totally pathetic to care what people might say or do when the news leaks out. But how can I possibly explain what happened all those years ago? Absolutely everyone thinks that Clive is Lucy’s father. I know you didn’t like him,’ she added, weak tears of tiredness filling her eyes and spilling out down over her cheeks. ‘But I owe him more than I can
say. Without his help and support I’d have been completely destitute, with no choice but to have the baby adopted. Do please try to understand,’ she begged. ‘I really can’t bear the thought of Clive being made to look foolish in any way.’

  ‘There’s no need to cry,’ Max murmured softly, taking the handkerchief from her shaking hands and carefully wiping the tears from her eyes. ‘I now realise that I was completely wrong about Clive, and I’m really very grateful that he was able to come to your aid. You have my word that I’ll never do anything that is likely to harm his memory.’

  Amber leaned back against the cushions with a heavy sigh. ‘I still can’t see any answer to the problem.’

  ‘Well, I’ve given the matter a considerable amount of thought, and as far as I can see, there appears to be only one sensible course of action. First of all, I intend to phone Mr Glover tomorrow morning, confirming that I have definitely decided to buy this house. As you’ve already pointed out, Elmbridge hasn’t changed much while I’ve been away.’ He gave her a sardonic grin. ‘So, I imagine it will only take twenty-four hours for everyone to know about the sale...?’

  Amber gave a weary nod. ‘That’s probably a conservative estimate,’ she agreed listlessly.

  ‘Right. So the scenario for public consumption is going to be a very simple one. Returning home after spending some years abroad—and anxious to settle down at last—I approached Mr Glover, who brought me here to view the house. Whereupon I promptly fell in love with this huge old Tudor mansion...and with its owner. So, the poor young widow—bravely struggling to support her aged mother and small daughter—agrees to marry the wealthy prince and they both live happily ever after. It is, as I’m sure you’ll agree, a deeply romantic story,’ he pointed out, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement. ‘And one guaranteed to bring a tear to the eye of even the most hardened cynic.’

  It was some moments before Amber, bone-weary and exhausted, was fully able to comprehend what he was saying.

  ‘You must be crazy!’ she gasped, sitting bolt upright and staring with horror up into his handsome face.

  ‘On the contrary—it all makes perfect sense,’ he drawled with a sardonic grin, completely ignoring her strangled protests of rage and fury as he continued to outline his proposed scenario.

  ‘Since I’ve spent so many years in the United States—where life is, of course, lived at a much faster pace—everyone will quite understand my reluctance to hang around, once I’d made up my mind to a course of action. And what could be nicer than a Christmas wedding? Nothing flashy, of course, just a small, simple affair. And then, while this house is being put in order, we’ll fly off to Switzerland for a combined honeymoon and skiing holiday. Which will give me a perfect opportunity to get to know Lucy.’

  ‘I...I’ve never heard such stuff and nonsense!’

  ‘It’s the only possible solution to the problem,’ he retorted firmly. ‘My daughter needs a father. And I’m quite determined that she’s going to have one.’

  ‘So, OK, I may well get married to someone in the future. But not to you, of all people!’ Amber cried, almost beside herself with rage. Who in the hell did this awful man think he was? God’s gift to women?

  Max gave a bark of caustic laughter. ‘I hope you’re not thinking of involving that young doctor in your plans. He’s quite the wrong man for you.’

  ‘What...what right have you to interfere in my friendship with Philip?’ she gasped.

  ‘As Lucy’s father, I’ve obviously got strong views on the subject,’ he drawled smoothly. ‘Believe me, there’s no way I’d approve of Philip Jackson.’

  ‘What damned cheek!’ Amber ground out, almost choking with fury. ‘Well, I don’t give that for your so-called “approval”.’ She snapped her fingers in his face. ‘It’s about time you realised that you have absolutely no rights as far as Lucy is concerned. And, in any case, you obviously know nothing about Philip,’ she added defiantly. ‘Because he’s a very sweet, caring man, who’s going to make someone a wonderful husband.’

  ‘You may be right. But that’s pure speculation because you’re certainly not marrying him. As for my “rights” regarding Lucy...’ His eyes hardened into frosty chips of blue ice. ‘It would be very foolish of you to even think of denying me access.’

  ‘I’m not listening to any more...I won’t be threatened like this!’ Amber lashed back angrily. She jumped to her feet, but her attempt to escape was foiled as he quickly reached up to clasp hold of her hands, pulling her back down on the sofa towards him. ‘Let me go!’ she panted, struggling helplessly against the iron grip of the fingers tightening cruelly about her wrists.

  ‘It’s not a threat—it’s a fact,’ he grated harshly. ‘A quick blood test will instantly prove that I’m Lucy’s father. And since I’m now a very rich man, I can easily afford to keep you tied up in the courts—until Doomsday, if necessary. Do you really want to spend the next few years harassed by a never-ending series of legal writs and injunctions? To have all the gory details of Lucy’s conception and birth widely reported in the newspapers? It certainly won’t do much for your mother’s quality of life, will it?’ he continued relentlessly, not bothering to hide the cruel, implacable menace in his voice. ‘And what about our daughter? How do you think Lucy will feel as she grows older and realises that she’s been deliberately prevented from seeing her real father? I’m told that young teenagers can be very difficult to handle. Quite frankly, Amber, I don’t think that she’ll ever forgive you.’

  ‘You...you devil!’ Amber gasped in horror, the blood draining from her face.

  He shook his head. ‘I’m merely trying to get you to see sense. To realise that I’m in deadly earnest.’

  ‘This idea of a marriage is totally...utterly impossible! It would never work. That stupid story of yours...it’s full of holes a mile wide,’ she gabbled hysterically. ‘No one...absolutely no one could possibly believe such a load of old rubbish. Not for one moment!’

  ‘Oh, yes they will,’ he retorted confidently. ‘Everyone loves a romantic story, especially one that ends with the two lovers going off into the sunset together, hand in hand. In fact, now I think about it,’ he mused reflectively, ‘we might embellish the tale by letting it become known that I was crazy about you before I went to America. Only you, of course, were far too young. So, I’ve had to wait all these years before being able to claim my own true love. What do you think?’

  ‘What do I think...?’ Amber shrieked, her body shaking with baffled rage and fury as she tried to wriggle free of his grip. ‘I think you must be completely insane. “A romantic story”? “My own true love”? Who do you think you’re kidding?’ she grated savagely. ‘We both know that you were never in love with me. All you were interested in was sex!’

  ‘And you...?’ He raised a dark, sardonic eyebrow. ‘Were you ever really in love with me?’

  ‘Yes, of course I was,’ she snapped, bitterly aware of a deep, hot flush rapidly spreading over her cheeks as she found herself being pulled closer to his broad torso. ‘But only because I was far too young and stupid to know any better. Eight years on—it’s now a very different story. I feel nothing for you. Absolutely nothing at all.’

  He gave a low, husky laugh. ‘Maybe we ought to test that last statement of yours,’ he mocked softly, letting go of her hands, his strong arms closing firmly about her trembling body. ‘Because I think you’re still crazy about me.’

  ‘You...you arrogant swine! Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying?’ she demanded breathlessly, desperately trying to free herself from the embrace of the man whose face was now only inches away from her own.

  ‘I don’t think you’re telling me the truth,’ he murmured, studying her intently as his arms tightened about her like bands of steel.

  ‘Oh, yes—yes, I am!’ she protested, frantically trying to tear her gaze away from the gleam in his glittering blue eyes and the cruel, sensual line of his lips, the message they conveyed suddenly causing her stomach to chu
rn wildly with shock and sexual tension. Staring up mesmerised as the black head came slowly down towards her, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from shaking and quivering in response to the sudden fierce, deep hunger flooding through her body as he lowered her back against the cushions, almost holding her breath until his mouth firmly possessed her tremulous lips.

  A second later she found herself swept up in a whirlwind of confused sensations. She was intensely aware of the fragrant aroma of his cologne and the warm, firm texture of his skin. Frantically striving to hang on to reality, she seemed unable to prevent her own senses from betraying her. Once again, the barriers which she’d so carefully erected against this man were being destroyed by the sweet seduction of his lips. With a faint, helpless moan she surrendered to the fierce wild excitement of his deepening kiss, the overwhelming need and desire for the caressing touch of his hands on her soft, trembling body.

  It seemed a long time before Max raised his dark head to stare intently down at the figure in his arms. ‘You may be a very desirable woman, Amber,’ he whispered huskily, slowly running a finger down over her flushed cheek. ‘But you always were a rotten liar!’

  She gazed up at him in bewilderment and confusion, still dazed by the sudden assault on her newly awakened senses. As the heat and desire of a few moments before began slowly ebbing away from her trembling body, her vision was filled by the hard, ruthless gleam in his eyes, the sardonic curve of his lips betraying both mockery and satisfaction. A deep tide of crimson swept over her face and she almost groaned out loud, appalled at the pathetically spineless, feeble way in which—once again—she’d so weakly succumbed to his dark attraction.

  Swiftly wriggling free of his relaxed grip, Amber quickly jumped up from the sofa.

  ‘Just a minute,’ Max drawled coolly, putting out a hand to catch hold of her wrist as she turned to flee from the room. ‘I’m still waiting to hear your decision about our marriage.’