Читать книгу Bride By Blackmail - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 7

‘YOU didn’t mention that your parents had other guests staying this weekend,’ Georgie remarked interestedly as they drove down the driveway. She could see that not only had Sukie, Andrew’s older sister—by the presence of her sporty little red car—decided to pay one of her rare visits, but that there was also another car parked on the driveway next to Gerald Lawson’s serviceable Range Rover. A gunmetal-grey Jaguar sports car. Very nice!

Although it was only big enough for two people, Georgie decided, which perhaps meant there wouldn’t be too many other guests this weekend. Georgie had only recently become acquainted with her future in-laws—Andrew’s parents and only sister—and they were quite enough to cope with for the moment: Sir Gerald and Lady Annabelle Lawson—Sir Gerald had been knighted two years ago, on his active retirement, at fifty, from politics—and Suzanna Lawson, Sukie to family and friends alike, a model.

‘I wasn’t aware of it myself,’ Andrew answered apologetically in reply to her query. ‘Could just be a—a friend of Sukie’s, I suppose,’ he added disparagingly. There was no love lost between brother and sister. Sukie’s career as a model didn’t sit too well with Andrew’s more serious role as a successful lawyer. Sukie’s bohemian friends didn’t go down too well with him, either!

But, after the battles that had gone on in her own family over the years, Georgie considered the Lawsons quite normal by comparison!

‘A successful one, by the look of the car,’ Andrew continued with appreciation as he parked his black BMW next to the Jaguar. ‘That will make a nice change,’ he added dryly.

Georgie chuckled as she got out of the car, the gravel crunching beneath her shoes—flattish brown court, to complement the brown knee-length dress she was wearing because their time of arrival coincided with dinner.

Tall and slender, Georgie wore her red hair in a short boyishly gamine style, with wispy tendrils on her forehead and at her temples softening the severity of the style. She had clear green eyes slanted beneath auburn brows, and her nose was small and snub, with a dusting of the freckles that often accompanied such fair colouring. A peach lip-gloss softened the fullness of her mouth, and her pointed chin hinted at the determined nature beneath her smile. Stubborn contrariness, her grandfather had once called it…

Her smile faded slightly to be replaced by a perplexed frown, some of the warmth disappearing from the summer evening because of the unwelcome intrusion of thoughts about her grandfather. Though otherwise hers was a contented life.

How could she not feel contented? She had Andrew, dear, sweet, kind, predictable Andrew. Her first children’s book was in print and doing very nicely, thank you. Her apartment was decorated and furnished to her own taste. In fact, almost everything in her life was perfectly sunny at the moment.

Which was usually the time, Georgie knew from experience, when someone decided it was time to send in a rain cloud!

‘Okay, darling?’ Andrew had collected their weekend bags from the boot of the car and was waiting at the bottom of the stone steps that led up to the huge front door for Georgie to join him.

‘Perfect,’ Georgie instantly assured him, very firmly shaking off the momentary cloud that thoughts of her grandfather had evoked. She smiled warmly at Andrew before tucking her hand into the crook of his arm.

At twenty-seven—four years older than Georgie— Andrew was six feet tall, with blond hair that occasionally fell endearingly over his brow and eyes of warm blue in a youthfully pleasant face. A couple of games of badminton a week at the gym that he frequented after work was over for the day maintained his fitness. He owed his successful career as a junior partner in a London law firm completely to the fact that he was good at his job, and not to the fact that he was Sir Gerald Lawson’s son.

Andrew was everything that Georgie wanted in her future husband: pleasant-mannered, considerate, caring, and most of all even-tempered. Completely unlike—

Stop!

Unwelcome thoughts of her grandfather had been quite enough for one evening, without thinking about him too! ‘Your parents and Miss Sukie are in the drawing room, Mr Andrew,’ the butler answered in reply to Andrew’s query, at the same time relieving Andrew of their luggage.

‘The drawing room, no less. Not the family sitting room,’ Andrew murmured ruefully as he and Georgie walked arm in arm through the wide hallway towards the formal drawing room. ‘Definitely not one of Sukie’s less-than-respectable friends, then,’ he teased.

‘Andrew!’ Lady Annabelle greeted him warmly as they entered the room, standing up to rush over and hug her son. She was tiny and blonde, and still very beautiful despite being in her early fifties. Her plain black dress was a perfect foil for her delicate build and fair colouring.

Sir Gerald Lawson had risen at their entrance too, moving forward to kiss Georgie lightly on the cheek before shaking his son warmly by the hand.

An older version of Andrew, Georgie had found Gerald easy to get on with from the first. Annabelle, she was a little less sure of, she acknowledged, even as she stepped forward to accept the other woman’s cool kiss on her cheek.

Although Annabelle was outwardly friendly, Georgie nevertheless sensed there was a certain reserve in her manner towards her. But, to be fair, Andrew was her only son, as well as the ‘baby’ of the family, and Annabelle obviously wanted the best for him. It was up to Georgie to convince the other woman that was what she was!

‘Isn’t it a beautiful evening?’ Gerald enthused as he poured them both a pre-dinner glass of sherry. ‘Almost warm enough to eat outside.’

‘Don’t be provincial, Gerald,’ Annabelle rebuked gently. ‘Besides, we have guests for dinner,’ she reminded him archly.

Speaking of whom…?

What had become patently obvious to Georgie in the last few minutes was that the older Lawsons were alone in the drawing room. Which begged the question—where were Sukie and the mystery guests?

Andrew gave Georgie a conspiratorial wink before turning back to his mother. ‘I noticed Sukie’s car outside; where’s she hiding herself?’

‘Taking my name in vain again, little brother?’ the recognisable voice of his sister queried as she came through from the conservatory that sided this sunlit room.

A younger version of her mother to look at, but with her father’s height, Sukie was another member of the family that Georgie wasn’t too sure of yet. Only a year older than Andrew, Sukie had a brittle hardness that was reflected in her cool blue eyes. The short blue dress she was wearing this evening showed off the slenderness of her figure and a long expanse of slender bare legs.

‘I had no idea you were interested in flowers, Sukie,’ Andrew taunted his older sister as she strolled into the room to kiss him on the cheek.

‘Only the type delivered by the florist, darling,’ Sukie answered him with cool dismissal. ‘I was actually just showing our guest around.’

Guest, not guests. Which probably meant she was the other guest, Georgie realised ruefully. Oh, well, only time could change Annabelle’s opinion of her. She—

Georgie gasped as the guest stepped into the room behind Sukie, the smile becoming fixed on her lips, her expression like a mask as she simply froze. Even her breathing seemed to stop momentarily as she simply stared at the man. This wasn’t a rain cloud—it was a hurricane!

Named Jed Lord!

Cool, fathomless grey eyes looked across the room at her as he registered her shocked recognition. A shock that wasn’t reflected in his own demeanour. Which could only mean that he had already known the two of them were to meet this evening…

Aged in his mid-thirties, he was well over six feet tall. The tailoring of his well-cut suit did nothing to hide the powerful physique beneath. He had hair as dark as night, though it was the sheer power in the hardness of his face that dominated: his grey eyes scrutinised the scene from beneath jutting black brows, and above a straight, uncompromising nose; his sculptured lips, although curved into a humourless smile at the moment, hinted at the hardness that was such an integral part of his character, and his jaw was square and determined.

Georgie, who had thought—hoped!—she’d never see him again, was completely thrown by the unexpectedness of this meeting. A fact of which Jed, so supremely self-confident as he strolled further into the room, was obviously well aware.

Damn him!

What was he doing here? Was he Annabelle and Gerald’s guest, or had he, as Andrew and she had thought earlier when they’d arrived, come here with Sukie? The latter, Georgie noticed, was certainly looking at him like a cat about to lap up the cream!

But hadn’t women always looked at Jed in that way? Hadn’t she once? Once, perhaps, but certainly not now!

‘Jed, do let me introduce you to the rest of the family.’ Gerald encouraged the other man to join them, drawing him into the circle. ‘Jed Lord: my son, Andrew, and his fiancée, Georgina Jones. Although we all call her Georgie,’ Gerald added warmly.

‘Andrew.’ Jed moved forward to shake the younger man’s hand.

Georgie found she was holding her breath as he slowly turned towards her, having no idea what was going to happen in the next few minutes. Would Jed acknowledge that the two of them already knew each other? Or would he greet her as if she were a complete stranger to him?

Although hadn’t she always been so, even when they should have been at their closest…?

Either way, Jed’s being here, in the home of Andrew’s parents, was completely disastrous to her peace of mind!

‘Georgina,’ Jed greeted her throatily as he stepped close to her.

She stared down at the hand he held out to her, a long tapered hand with a masculine beauty that totally belied its strength. How could she possibly shake it when she didn’t even want to touch him? It was—

‘Or may I call you Georgie…?’ he prompted huskily, that grey gaze intent on the paleness of her face as she still made no effort to take the hand he held out to her.

Almost like a peace offering. Except there could never be any sort of peace between Jed and herself!

‘Of course,’ Georgie accepted vaguely, forcing herself to brush her fingers lightly against his, a shiver running icily down her spine even as she snatched her hand away before his fingers could curl around hers. Just that brief touch had been enough to tell her that she still couldn’t bear to be anywhere near this man!

‘Dinner is served, Sir Gerald,’ the butler announced politely.

‘Thank you, Bancroft,’ his employer rejoined cheerfully. ‘Shall we go through to the dining room?’ he suggested lightly.

Dinner. There was no way that Georgie could eat. No way she could possibly sit down at the same dinner table as Jed Lord!

Except… What choice did she have? Like her, Jed had given no indication that the two of them already knew each other. She knew her own reasons for not doing so, but she had no idea what Jed’s were for the lack of disclosure on his part. But one thing she did know about Jed, though—they would be his own reasons, and no one else’s. Because Jed never did anything that wasn’t to his own liking.

‘May I?’ Gerald held out his arm to escort her in to dinner.

Well, at least she wasn’t expected to go through to dinner as Jed’s partner; that would have been more than she could stand. In fact, she wasn’t sure how she was still standing at all after the shock she had received!

‘Thank you.’ She took Gerald’s arm, noting that Sukie had laid a firm claim on Jed, her long red-painted nails on his hand as she moved in close to him, while Andrew was left to escort his mother.

But Georgie was completely aware of Jed walking behind her as they went through to the dining room, could feel the heat of his gaze on her back. That enigmatic grey gaze that could freeze with coldness or burn with desire…!

But more often freeze with coldness, she reminded herself hollowly.

She had been so looking forward to this weekend in the Hampshire countryside with Andrew; the Lawson family home edged the New Forest. But with Jed here it had turned into a nightmare from which she couldn’t seem to wake!

To make matters worse, Jed sat opposite her at the oval dining table. Although it would have been even more unbearable if he had sat next to her. The simple truth was he shouldn’t be there at all!

She looked at him from beneath lowered auburn lashes as their first course was served to them. He looked much the same as when she had last seen him a year ago, although there were perhaps more lines beside his eyes and mouth, and a faint dusting of grey amongst the black hair at his temples. Although that, she acknowledged disgustedly, only made him look more devilishly attractive!

‘Is the smoked salmon not to your liking, Georgie?’ Jed remarked mildly. ‘You aren’t eating,’ he pointed out as she gave him a startled look.

She could feel the colour warm her cheeks at having attention drawn to her in this way. Deliberately so, she was sure. One look at the mocking amusement in Jed’s eyes was enough to tell her he was enjoying himself. At her expense.

What else? Jed had been laughing at her most of her life, it seemed to her. But it was time it stopped!

She gave him a brightly false smile. ‘You know, Mr Lord, I love smoked salmon.’ She picked up her knife and fork and began to eat.

‘Please, do call me Jed,’ he invited dryly, grey gaze assessing.

‘Such an unusual name,’ Annabelle remarked lightly.

‘Isn’t it?’ Georgie agreed, turning back to Jed, the light of challenge in her own gaze now. ‘Surely it must be the diminutive of something else…?’ She looked at Jed expectantly.

His gaze hardened and his mouth twisted into a grimace. ‘Jeremiah,’ he supplied tersely.

‘Goodness me!’ Georgie laughed softly, easily holding his warning grey stare with her own clear green eyes. ‘No wonder you prefer Jed.’

‘That’s a little unkind to our guest, Georgie.’ Annabelle Lawson shot her a reproving glance.

‘As it happens, Annabelle,’ Jed turned to his hostess, smiling wryly, ‘I wholeheartedly agree with Georgie!’

That must be a first, Georgie acknowledged ruefully. Still, at least she had proved—to herself, if no one else!—that this evening didn’t have to go all Jed’s way!

‘I wasn’t meaning to be rude, Mr Lord,’ she assured him, although she was sure Jed, at least, didn’t miss the edge of derision in her tone. ‘It was just a comment on the names some parents expect their children to live with!’

‘Your own, for example,’ Jed came back softly.

‘Touché.’ She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head; she should have known she wouldn’t have the last word! She never had where Jed was concerned. ‘I was named for my grandfather,’ she said determinedly.

Jed raised dark brows. ‘You have a grandfather called Georgina?’

‘I—’ Georgie broke off her sharp response as Sukie, seated beside Jed, gave a shout of laughter.

Really—Jed’s joke hadn’t been that funny, Georgie decided irritably as Sukie continued to chuckle.

‘I think you rather asked for that one, darling.’ Andrew, seated on Georgie’s left, lightly covered Georgie’s hand with his own as he smiled at her indulgently.

Possibly, she inwardly conceded. But it really hadn’t been that funny. She could—

Jed was looking at Andrew’s hand, which still rested on Georgie’s, his forehead furrowed over hard eyes.

What on earth—?

‘The emerald of your engagement ring is the same colour as your eyes,’ Jed bit out unexpectedly.

That was exactly what Andrew had said to her the day they had visited a jewellers to choose it!

But she didn’t for a moment think that Jed meant it in the romantic way that Andrew had that day. She could clearly hear the accusation in Jed’s tone, even if no one else could.

‘When is the wedding?’ Jed’s icy gaze moved from the ring to Georgie’s face, although his closed expression gave away none of his thoughts.

Had it ever? Georgie acknowledged disgustedly before answering him tersely, ‘Next Easter.’

His mouth quirked wryly. ‘Such a long time away…’ he remarked enigmatically.

Georgie gave him a sharp glance. Exactly what did he mean by that? Impossible to tell; his expression exactly matched his tone of voice. But he had meant something. She had known Jed long enough to know he was a man of few words, and the ones he did choose to say always had meaning.

‘We have our hearts set on an Easter wedding.’ Andrew was the one to answer Jed, squeezing Georgie’s hand reassuringly as he did so. ‘Are you a married man yourself, Jed?’ he asked interestedly.

Georgie suddenly found she was holding her breath as she waited for Jed’s reply.

His mouth tightened. ‘Not any more,’ he finally answered slowly. ‘I recently entered the statistics of divorced men,’ he added with humour.

‘How sad,’ Annabelle put in sympathetically.

Jed turned to smile at the older woman. ‘Thank you, Annabelle, but I doubt my ex-wife thinks so! She was the one to divorce me,’ he enlarged bitterly.

‘What a very silly woman,’ Sukie put in throatily, her blue eyes full of invitation as she looked flirtatiously at Jed from beneath lowered lashes.

‘Not at all,’ Jed dismissed, picking up his glass to sip the white wine that had been poured to accompany their salmon. ‘The grounds for divorce were typical—my wife understood me!’ he drawled sardonically.

‘Shouldn’t that be, ‘My wife didn’t understand me’?’ prompted a perplexed Annabelle, obviously not at all happy with the slant the conversation had suddenly taken at her dinner table.

Which wasn’t surprising, Georgie acknowledged impatiently. Jed Lord’s divorce—for whatever reason!—was hardly appropriate dinner conversation anywhere!

‘No, Annabelle, I do believe I had it right the first time,’ Jed replied meaningfully.

‘How absolutely priceless!’ Sukie was the one to answer now as she chuckled throatily. ‘Were you a very naughty boy, Jed?’ she prompted with amusement.

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘My wife obviously thought so, otherwise she wouldn’t have divorced me.’

‘Do eat some more of your salmon, Jed,’ Annabelle encouraged nervously. ‘I believe you’ve recently spent some time in America, do tell us about it?’

Which was Annabelle’s way of firmly saying that was the end of that particular subject.

Which was probably as well, Georgie thought as she determinedly focused her attention again on her plate of smoked salmon. The murmur of voices around the table were now passing her by completely. If Jed had said one more word about the wife who had divorced him because she understood him, she might not have been able to stop herself from standing up and hitting him!

Because, until six months ago, she had been his wife!