Читать книгу The Christmas Baby's Gift - Kate Walker - Страница 9

PASSION was what their marriage was built on, Peta told herself as she watched Liam dancing with one of her friends later that night.

The spectacular ballroom of Hewland Hall was brilliantly lit by a dozen glorious crystal chandeliers. In the far corner of the huge room, an enormous Christmas tree reached almost to the ornate ceiling, and red, gold and green garlands festooned the walls. It was a gorgeous, wonderful scene, but all she was conscious of was the tall, powerful figure of her husband.

A smile curved her mouth, her eyes becoming darkly dreamy as she recalled how it had felt to be in his arms just a few minutes before, the way he had held her close to the heat and strength of his body, his cheek pressed against hers.

Passion was what had pushed them into the marriage of convenience that had suited them, and pleased both their families. The sort of passion that had consumed the two of them in its fires earlier, so wild, so all-powerful that even now she could still feel her blood heat and her skin tingle just to think of it. The sort of passion that was so overwhelming that it couldn’t be denied. It had brought them together, held them in thrall for the past year, and had seemed so overpowering that, in the absence of any other, stronger feeling, it had seemed enough to hold them together for as long as they wanted.

Passion and the longing for children.

The smile left her mouth abruptly, leaving her face looking bleak and pale. All her life she had dreamed of becoming a mother She had enjoyed her work as a PA, knew she’d been good at it, but a child—children—of her own had always been at the centre of her thoughts. So it had come as something of a shock to her to find that, at twenty-six, almost twenty-seven, she was not only not yet a mother but also still single, without even a fiancé, or yet a boyfriend on the horizon. The fact that her brother, three years younger, was already the father of a two-year-old boy, with another child on the way, had only added to her feeling of emptiness, the yearning to have a family of her own.

And it had to be a family. She didn’t want to be a single mother. A child had the right to two parents who loved and cared for it, and she was determined that her baby would have the best she could give it. So when Liam had told her how much he wanted children too, it had seemed like the perfect answer.

But then she had had to go and ruin things completely by falling in love.

Her hands closed over the long skirts of her midnight-blue dress, crushing the fine velvet dreadfully. This hadn’t been on the cards. Hadn’t been part of the bargain they had agreed between them.

‘But what happens if this isn’t enough?’ she remembered asking Liam when he had first made the suggestion that they marry for lust rather than for love. ‘What if one of us meets someone else? Falls for them…?’

‘Falls in love?’ Liam had finished for her, when she’d hesitated. ‘You said you didn’t believe in it.’

‘I said I didn’t know what it meant! And I don’t. I’ve never known that sort of devastating, irresistible feeling for anyone. Never felt that without a certain someone in my life I would want to die, that my existence wouldn’t be worth having. I’ve never experienced it and I’m not sure that I ever will.’

She had now, Peta thought wretchedly as her clouded blue eyes followed Liam around the dance floor, hungrily absorbing the lean, powerful lines of his body in the superbly cut dinner jacket and gleaming white shirt. She knew that feeling all too well, and didn’t know how to handle it.

She couldn’t drag her gaze away from this man who had been her husband for the past twelve months, and yet, in many ways, was still a total stranger to her. The subdued elegance of the classic black and white suited his tall frame to perfection. The fit of his jacket emphasised the broad, straight shoulders, the width of his chest and long, long legs under the fine fabric of his trousers.

In the light of the huge glittering chandeliers that hung from the high ceilings of the ballroom, the rich chestnut of his hair gleamed and shone, the copper lights in it seeming to catch fire and burn spectacularly. And the dark green of his eyes had the glimmer of polished jade, deep and impenetrable.

Those stunning eyes had looked just that way when she had asked him that question on the night before their wedding. When she had raised the possibility of one of them falling for someone else.

At the time she had felt that she had to broach it, just so that there was no possibility of a problem cropping up later, one that they couldn’t handle. And it had been Liam that she had foreseen might find himself in love with someone else. After all, out of the two of them he was the one who had had some experience, however brief and unhappy, of the feeling that the world called love. The woman he had adored had walked out on him when he was twenty-three, and since then there had been no one, no single person that he’d felt more than a passing fancy for. Nothing that came anywhere close to love.

She had never expected that she would fall a prey to that elusive emotion herself. And least of all that she would feel it for the man she was married to.

‘We’ll tackle that when we come to it—if we come to it,’ Liam had said. ‘But I don’t think it’s likely—do you? After all, it’s not as if we’re both naïve adolescents who don’t have enough experience of life to know what we’re doing.’

She felt like a naïve adolescent right now, Peta reflected wryly. Like some newly sexually awakened teenager, launched on her first major crush on the opposite sex. Thoughts of Liam crowded every second of her waking day. Dreams of him filled her nights. Heated, erotic, sensual dreams that had her waking restlessly, her heart throbbing, her breath ragged, and her skin so damp with perspiration that she felt sure that Liam, sleeping peacefully at her side, would sense it and, waking, want to know the reason for it.

In the beginning, in the days when passion had been all that held them together, she wouldn’t have had any trouble in telling him how she was feeling. She’d done it more times than she could count, reaching for him and entwining her arms around him to draw him closer. She had pressed her mouth to his, tangled her fingers in his hair, holding her body against the hard length of his, coiling long smooth limbs around his equally naked, hair-roughened ones.

‘I want you,’ she had been able to whisper to him then. ‘I want you more than I can say. I want you to make love to me—want you inside me—and I want it now!’

Then, passion had made her brave, need had made her forthright. She had been totally direct about her feelings because they had been that basic, that uncomplicated. But as her emotions had changed, so had her approach to this husband of hers.

I love you was just three little words—no more, no less than I want you, but so much harder to say. Impossible to say when she knew that they were the words Liam didn’t want to hear. The last thing that he wanted to hear from her. The last thing that he could offer her in return.

And so she had kept silent, and that silence had grown wider and deeper as the days and the weeks had passed. If it would have been difficult to speak at the beginning, it would be impossible to break her silence now. She had grown so accustomed to hugging her secret to herself that she knew the words would shrivel on her tongue if she so much as tried to express them. It was easier to keep silent. But keeping silent had also meant keeping her distance, and she knew that Liam had noticed her withdrawal. How long would it be, she wondered, before he started to question the reasons for it?

‘Penny for them?’

The softly spoken question jolted her from her memories with a start, dragging her back to awareness of the fact that the music had stopped. The dance had ended, and her husband and friend had come to where she was standing at the side of the room, Liam’s arms snaking round her waist and pulling her close with a casual possessiveness that made her heart thud high up in her throat.

‘For—for my thoughts?’ she hedged awkwardly, playing for time. It was a struggle to speak, to ignore the warm weight at her back, the knowing hand that rested on her hip, blunt fingers splayed out over the curve of her buttock. ‘They’re not worth much. Not even a penny, really.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

It was Stephanie, her friend, who spoke, laughter warming her voice.

‘I saw the way you were looking at us just now, watching every move we made out there on the dance floor. And I don’t kid myself that it was admiration for my dancing that held you spellbound in that way. Or that you were envying my dress—not considering that lovely creation you’re wearing!’

‘Well, thank you.’

Peta bobbed a laughing curtsey, hoping against hope to distract her friend from the path her thoughts were following. She knew that that narrow cut of the deep blue velvet dress suited the slender lines of her figure, and that the sleeveless, tight-laced bodice revealed the creamy skin of her shoulders and arms, the beginnings of the curves of her breasts, the shadowy suggestion of the fullness of her cleavage.

‘So I suspect it was the person who gave you that spectacular necklace who was really in your thoughts. I take it that was an anniversary present from Liam?’

Peta’s fingers went instinctively to touch the brilliant diamond necklace that her husband had fastened around her neck just before they’d left for the party at Hewland Hall, his grandfather’s home. She had swept her dark hair up at the back of her head, exposing the full length of her throat and neck, so displaying its beauty more effectively, while at her ears sparkled matching earrings which he had given to her only that morning.

‘Yes, Liam gave it to me.’

‘I must say that this husband of yours has excellent taste.’

‘But of course.’

Liam’s arm tightened possessively around Peta’s waist, tucking her up against the warmth and strength of his body.

‘I chose Peta as my wife, didn’t I? We’re the perfect combination of breeding and money.’

He made it sound like a joke, and clearly Stephanie took it that he meant it flippantly, but deep inside Peta felt something twist sharply at the thought that in fact he had spoken nothing but the truth. The Hewland family, whose only daughter Liam’s mother had been, were long-established landowners in the county. But by the standards of her own family, they were newly wealthy. The Lassiters could trace their ancestry back to the Norman Conquest, but as a result of too many death duties and some desperately unwise speculation on the Stock Exchange they were cash poor.

That was why her parents and Liam’s grandfather, who had been friends for years, had come up with the idea of a marriage that united their two families. That way, they’d reckoned, they would have the best of both worlds.

‘Breeding?’

A new masculine voice took up the conversation. Tony, Stephanie’s husband, had joined them, catching the tail-end of Liam’s remark.

‘Who’s talking about breeding? Liam—Peta—have you got some news we should know? Or has my wife been letting you in on our little secret?’

‘News? No.’

Peta answered hastily, looking anywhere but into Liam’s face. She could feel the colour ebbing from her own cheeks as her conscience stabbed at her painfully, reminding her of the deception she was practising on her husband. It didn’t matter that she had very good reasons for doing so. Liam would never see it that way. He wouldn’t understand her motives; the way things had changed so much since she had realised just how she really felt.

‘N-no—no news.’

‘But we have!’

Stephanie didn’t have to explain just what her news was. It shone out of her eyes, was there in the glow in her face, her smile. Peta’s stomach lurched painfully. Her friend had been married only half as long as she had. Just six months ago she and Liam had been guests at Stephanie and Tony’s wedding, and now her friend was announcing the fact that she was pregnant.

‘Congratulations, Steph!’

She made herself say it, praying that her hurried movement forwards to hug her friend, the way that her face was muffled in Stephanie’s tumbling blonde hair, would explain the catch in her voice, the jerky unevenness of the words.

She’d married Liam to have children. But as her own feelings about her husband had changed, so had her thoughts on bringing a baby into this marriage. And now here, right in front of her, was the image of exactly why she had felt forced to take the decision she had. Stephanie and Tony were so obviously deeply in love. They were a couple in a way that she and Liam could never be, the sort of parents that she dreamed of providing for her own child when the time came.

‘That’s wonderful news.’

She couldn’t even make it sound genuine, Liam reflected bitterly. Oh, perhaps someone who didn’t know their private background might be convinced. They might actually just take the words at face value and not hear the bleak emptiness that threaded through them, draining them of any real warmth and delight. But to someone who was as sensitive to everything about this woman as he was, it was obvious that her heart wasn’t fully in her response. That there was something at the back of it, throwing a dark shadow over her happiness.

And she wouldn’t even look him in the face. Couldn’t meet his eyes. Ever since he’d made that damn stupid remark about breeding she had been avoiding him quite obviously.

He could have bitten his tongue off as soon as he had said it. It had come too close to the truth. To the sort of dynastic marriage their families had wanted and that, at first, they had both been so determined to resist. He had trampled right in, reminding her of one of the reasons—apart, of course, from fancying the pants off each other so that they couldn’t keep their hands, or other parts, to themselves—for their union. And now Stephanie had reminded her of the fact that he had failed to deliver on his promise.

Luckily at that moment the announcement of the fact that supper was being served proved a very welcome diversion. For once he was grateful that the formality his grandfather insisted on for these occasions meant that he and Peta, as the guests of honour at this event, had to lead everyone else into the dining room where the elegant buffet meal was laid out.

‘What can I get you?’

‘Oh—anything—I’m not really hungry.’

She still seemed distracted. Still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Okay, then—you go and sit down and I’ll bring you something over. I think I know what you like.’

Did she have to look so relieved to be given the chance to move away? It was obvious that she had chosen a table on the far side of the room, where she could sit on her own, away from everyone else. People would be thinking that they’d had a row—not the best possible image to present on their first anniversary, particularly not when they wanted everyone to believe that theirs was a successful, happy marriage.

‘What’s up with that pretty wife of yours, then, my boy?’

Joshua Hewland’s tones sounded gruffly behind him, making Liam wince inwardly. He supposed that compared to his grandfather’s eighty-two years just turned thirty must seem young, but he had never quite adjusted to the way the old man kept referring to him as ‘my boy’.

‘Nothing’s wrong. She’s just a little tired, that’s all.’

‘Tired?’ Joshua’s response was a blatant snort of disbelief and disapproval. ‘Tired!’

The old man’s watery blue eyes looked sceptical and the glance he turned in Peta’s direction was frankly disapproving.

‘Tired! At her age! Young people these days have no stamina! Why, when I was—’

Abruptly he came to a halt and Liam groaned inwardly as he saw the disapproval fade and a newly speculative expression take its place.

‘Unless, of course… Do you have something to tell me?’

Ruthlessly Liam squashed down the angry retort that rose to his lips. Telling his grandfather that it was none of his business was not the way to handle this, even if it was the reply he most wanted to give. Joshua’s obsession with the Hewland line, the inheritance of the great house and the acres of land that went with it, was positively feudal. It was something that Liam normally respected, something he partly shared, but right now it touched on a very uncomfortable spot indeed and was not something he wanted to talk about, particularly not in such a public place.

‘When and if we do have “something to tell you”,’ he declared stiffly, ‘we’ll tell you in our own good time and not before.’

His grandfather wasn’t pleased. The way the thin old mouth clamped into a tight, hard line made that only too clear. That and the way his bristling white brows drew together in a disapproving frown.

‘Well, don’t mess about with this, lad!’ he ordered brusquely. ‘I’m not getting any younger and I don’t have many years to waste waiting for you to provide me with an heir.’

‘Don’t you mean a legitimate heir?’ Liam snapped back, anger flaring almost out of control.

It had been impossible to come to terms with the way that his grandfather had never fully accepted him, and when the old man harped on about having an heir to Hewland Hall it simply drummed home the way that Joshua was prepared to dismiss the fact that he had once had a daughter. Liam’s mother. But Anna Hewland had offended her father’s old-fashioned principles by having a baby and not even staying with, never mind marrying, the father.

‘At least this child will be born into a legal marriage,’ Joshua returned coldly. ‘Though of course that wouldn’t matter if only your mother had had a child by the man who had the decency to put a ring on her finger.’

‘But she didn’t,’ Liam growled. ‘And so you’re stuck with me.’

As his stepfather had been, he reflected bitterly, recalling just how plain his mother’s husband had made it that he resented having to support Anna’s bastard child while she’d given him none of his own. Nigel Hastings had made his stepson’s life a misery from the moment he had married Liam’s mother, doting openly on the son and daughter he had brought with him from his first marriage and making sure that Anna’s child had felt very much lower than second-best.

‘Believe me, Grandfather, I want a child from this marriage every bit as much as you do.’

More, perhaps. As a lonely, unwanted adolescent he had escaped into dreams of his own home, his own family, a baby that was truly his. When his turn came to be a parent, he had vowed to himself, he would be the best father he could possibly be, erasing all the emptiness of the past in the warmth of his relationship with his child.

‘I want to hold my great-grandchild in my arms before I die,’ the old man stated flatly. ‘What’s so wrong with that? What’re you doing, lad? Firing blanks?’

Hell!

It was meant to be below the belt, he knew that. But the fact that it hit home with more cruelty than Joshua had been aiming for was solely down to the thoughts that had been running through Liam’s head for weeks. The private fears that had nagged at him in his lowest moments.

Clamping his mouth tight shut, he bit back the savage retort that almost escaped him, concentrating fiercely on pouring himself and Peta a glass of wine and adding them to the tray on which he had already placed the plates of food.

‘I’m working on it,’ he growled furiously when he felt able to speak without exploding. ‘Believe me, if I have anything to do with it you’ll have that great-grandchild of yours by this time next year.’

He’d almost given himself away there, he thought cynically, cursing the display of temper that had somehow escaped even his ruthless control. It had alerted his grandfather’s suspicions. He could almost feel the old man’s gaze burning between his shoulders as he made his way across the room to where Peta sat.

She did look rather washed out, he thought. Unusually pale, and, now that he studied her more closely, there were faint shadows under the beautiful eyes. Shadows that the skilful application of make-up hadn’t quite concealed.

Under the elegant jacket and shirt his heart gave a sudden jolt, thudding against his ribs as a sudden suspicion slid into his head. Was it possible…?

‘What did your grandfather want?’ was her first question, as he had known it must be. But at least this time he was prepared. He’d been imagining things earlier, he told himself privately. There couldn’t be anything wrong. He didn’t feel as if there was anything wrong. And, if he’d read the signs right, then maybe Peta had news for him that would put all his concerns aside once and for all.

‘Oh, just to congratulate us.’

He had himself almost back under control now. His tone was as even as he wanted, the smile he directed into her eyes apparently easy and without a care. He’d guessed her secret, he told himself. All he had to do was to give her the opportunity to tell him.

‘Congratulate?’

Peta had reached for her glass of wine but now she paused with it lifted just partway from the tray.

Congratulate? Just the thought sent tremors of shock running through her. Had Liam said something that had made his grandfather think his dearest wish was coming true?

‘On our anniversary, of course.’ He said it lightly enough, but suddenly there was a new note in his voice, one that hadn’t been there before—and one that she couldn’t begin to interpret properly.

‘He didn’t look congratulatory—if anything he looked annoyed. Liam?’ she tried again when he didn’t answer her, instead reaching for a bread roll and breaking it open roughly. ‘Was he angry about something?’

Somewhere she’d overstepped some invisible line, crossed a boundary that she didn’t even know existed. Liam didn’t say a word but a sudden stiffening of his long body, the way the strong fingers tightened, a disturbing change in his eyes, all communicated silently the fact that he didn’t want to answer the question.

Which of course only made her all the more anxious for him to do so.

‘What did he say?’

For the space of a couple of uneven heartbeats she thought that he wasn’t going to respond, and all the nerves in her body stretched taut in tension at the fear of just what he wanted to hide from her. But then suddenly Liam shrugged dismissively and lifted his clouded green gaze to her face.

‘Not angry,’ he said carelessly, dropping the mutilated roll and reaching for his own glass in turn. ‘It was more that he was disappointed that Steph and Tony beat us to it in the baby stakes.’

‘Ohh!’

Hastily Peta put down the glass that she had lifted to her lips; suddenly knowing that she couldn’t drink from it. Not now. Liam’s words had made her throat close over abruptly. There was no way she could swallow anything without choking desperately.

‘It means that much to him!’

‘I told you he wants an heir for this place. But you knew that when you agreed to marry me.’

And it had all seemed so much easier then. So much less complicated. But she hadn’t been thinking straight.

She hadn’t been thinking at all.

They had both known from the start that her parents and Liam’s grandfather had been matchmaking with a vengeance when they had arranged for the two of them to meet. Peta had been away in America for five years, working in Seattle, and before that she had been at university, only coming home in the holidays. So she had only seen Liam once or twice, and then perhaps for a brief moment or two. The boy, and then the adolescent she had known vaguely, had grown into a dark and devastating man. One she had been instantly drawn to and one who, if it hadn’t been for her parents’ interference and manipulation, she would have been glad to get to know better.

‘It was why he and your parents introduced us in the first place.’

Liam’s tone of voice, the expression in his eyes, told her clearly that he too was thinking of the way they had met, the part their elders had played in getting them together.

‘They weren’t exactly subtle about it, were they?’

She aimed for airy lightness and missed it by a mile. It still stunned her to reflect on the way that, meaning to deliberately sabotage the matchmaking plan and go their own free way, they had in fact fallen in with exactly what the Lassiters and old Mr Hewland had wanted, though in the end for their own private reasons.