Читать книгу From Mistresses To Wives? - Lee Wilkinson, Kay Thorpe - Страница 14

SARAH’S totally unexpected call the following week coincided with Zac’s overnight trip to France on company business.

‘I thought it time the two of us got to know each other a little better,’ she said. ‘How about lunch tomorrow to start with? I know this little place in Covent Garden that does an absolutely glorious boeuf en croute!’ She laughed. ‘Food becomes all-important when you’re feeding two!’

‘I can imagine,’ Jessica sympathised. She hesitated. ‘You must be getting close now.’

‘Oh, there’s another couple of weeks yet,’ came the airy reply. ‘Probably more. First babies are more often late than early. The men don’t have to know about it. Not yet, anyway. We can spring it on them later when we’re firm friends. It’s about time they stopped feuding themselves.’

Jessica could only agree, though she doubted it happening. She had an hour and a half lunch break, and Covent Garden was easily reached from the office, so there was nothing to stop her from taking up the suggestion.

‘Okay, fine,’ she said.

They arranged to meet at twelve-thirty. Replacing the receiver, Jessica contemplated telling Zac about it if he rang later. However he might feel about Brady, he’d been friendly enough towards Sarah. He could surely have no objection to their seeing one another.

The question was resolved by his failure to make the call. Retiring to bed alone that night for the first time in weeks, she lay wondering what he was doing right now. Subsidiary companies were apt to lay on entertainment for visiting VIPs. For all she knew, he was out on the town with some French woman detailed to give him a good time.

She was being paranoid, and she knew it, but it made little difference. What it all boiled down to was that she still didn’t really trust him when it came to other women.

Sarah was at the restaurant before her. She looked radiant, hair and skin blooming with health and vitality.

‘I expected to feel thoroughly done in by now after carrying Junior around for eight and a half months,’ she declared cheerily when Jessica complimented her on her appearance, ‘but I never felt better! Not that I shan’t be happy to have a waistline again. Maternity clothes leave a lot to be desired in the way of fashion.’

She eyed Jessica with undisguised speculation. ‘You look a bit drained yourself. You wouldn’t, by any chance, be pregnant too?’

‘Not by any chance,’ Jessica denied smilingly.

The speculation increased. ‘You and Zac don’t want children?’

‘Not just yet, at any rate.’

‘That’s not going to put you in favour with Grandfather Henry.’

Jessica viewed the pretty face across the table in some uncertainty. ‘That’s surely not the only reason you and Brady decided to start a family?’

‘Oh, no. We’d no intention of waiting. Brady knew when he married me how much I wanted children. I always did. Ever since I had my first doll.’ She gave the sparkly little laugh again. ‘I can hardly wait to see the little love in the flesh! Scans don’t give all that good a picture. We already named him. Richard Henry Prescott.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m none too keen on the Henry myself, but Brady insisted. The initials aren’t bad at least. RHP—Right Honourable Person. Useful if he becomes Prime Minister.’

‘Very,’ Jessica agreed. She hesitated before saying diffidently, ‘Do you always give way to Brady’s preferences?’

‘Most times,’ came the untroubled answer. ‘He tends to take after his grandfather in many ways, and I’m not one for rocking any boats unnecessarily. Men like to think they’re in charge. Gives their egos a boost. I don’t imagine Zac’s any different.’

Jessica contented herself with a smile and a shrug by way of a reply, not about to be drawn. Zac was strong-minded, true, but far from egotistical.

The food proved to be as good as Sarah had forecast. It was only gradually that Jessica realised the younger girl was simply picking at her plate. The animation had faded, the faint line drawn between her brows an indication of some inner conflict.

‘What is it?’ Jessica asked urgently, seeing the line deepen even as she looked.

The blue eyes lifted to hers were surprisingly serene. ‘I think I may have started,’ she said. ‘I’ve just had a second contraction, about fifteen minutes since the first. Stronger this time too. It might be a good idea if I get out of here before my waters break. It might put the other diners off their meal.’

Jessica lost no time in calling for the bill. She also got the desk to order a taxi. Sarah was booked into a private hospital. By the time they reached the place, the pains were coming every seven minutes.

‘Will you call Brady?’ Sarah requested before she was wheeled away. She handed over her bag. ‘You’ll find his mobile number in the front of my diary if he’s not at the office. Tell him to get here as soon as possible,’ she added, face compressing again as another contraction started. ‘He wants to see the birth.’

The way things were going, it was likely that he was going to miss it, Jessica thought, but she could but try.

She got through to Prescotts on her own mobile, to be told Brady was still out to lunch. While it was likely that his set would be switched off while he was at table, she called the number she had found in the diary, vastly relieved when he answered.

Thankfully, he wasted no time on questions that could be answered later. He was on the other side of town, it appeared, which meant he would have to contend with the midday traffic. Considering what Sarah had said earlier, Jessica wouldn’t have been all that surprised if he’d commanded her to tell his wife to hold the baby back until he got there.

Having done all she could in that direction, she went to see how matters were proceeding. Sarah was already in the delivery room, she was told on reaching the floor. In the absence of a husband to hold the patient’s hand, she was asked if she would like to put on a gown and do the honours herself.

Sarah greeted her appearance with tearful gratitude. ‘It’s all happening so fast!’ she said between contractions almost running together. ‘Brady is going to be so disappointed! You’ll have to tell him every detail, Jessica.’

If she judged correctly, a second-hand account of his son’s first appearance in the world would be the last thing he’d want, Jessica reflected wryly, giving her assurance.

She’d once seen a birth on television, but the real-life experience was infinitely more moving. The hand Sarah was clinging to felt gripped by a vice in those final moments as the baby’s head emerged, yet she was too involved in what was happening to be really conscious of any pain.

There were satisfied smiles and exclamations from the attendant staff when Richard Henry Prescott let out a hearty bawl as he was lifted clear.

‘Nothing wrong with this one’s lungs!’ declared the midwife. ‘A good eight pounds, if I’m not mistaken!’

She proved right within a quarter of a pound. Wrapped in a light blanket, the child was brought back to Sarah, who was now propped up in bed looking amazingly fresh after her ordeal.

‘Isn’t he beautiful?’ she exclaimed, searching the small, perfectly formed features. ‘He looks just like his daddy!’

He did, Jessica was bound to admit. He even sported a shock of dark hair. Like all new born babies, his eyes were blue at present, but they’d no doubt turn grey later. The Prescott genes were not easily overcome.

Looking from child to mother, she felt a stirring of something close to envy. Sarah had no doubts about her marriage. She held the proof of it in her arms.

She stayed with her until Brady arrived, leaving the two of them alone to share their little miracle. Her mobile rang as she made her way down to the reception area. Zac sounded abrupt.

‘Leo says you didn’t come back from lunch. Where the devil are you? It’s gone half-past three!’

‘I’m at the hospital,’ Jessica responded. ‘Sarah had her baby sooner than expected. I should have called Leo to explain, but it all happened so fast it completely went from mind. Where are you, anyway?’

‘At home,’ he said. ‘I got an earlier flight.’ The pause was brief. ‘How come you were involved?’

‘Sarah and I were having lunch together when she started. Unfortunately, Brady missed it all, but he’s there with her now. A boy,’ she added. ‘Eight pounds, four ounces. Both doing well.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Zac paused again. ‘How long have you and Sarah been meeting up?’

‘This was the first time. She rang me last night to suggest it.’

‘Any idea why?’

Jessica began a shrug, desisting on the realisation that he couldn’t very well see her. ‘I don’t think there was any particular reason. She just thought it time we met up again. A good thing, as it happened. We were a lot closer to the hospital than she would have been at home. I’d better ring Leo and let him know what’s happening. I’ll see you later.’

She rang off before he could say anything further, her eyes on the calendar pinned to a notice board opposite where she stood. Today was Wednesday. She and Zac had been married six weeks the previous Saturday. She’d had one period a week or so after the wedding, which meant she had been due again the previous week.

Looking a bit drained herself, Sarah had said earlier, but not for that reason, she thought now in determined rejection of any such idea. So she was a few days late. It wasn’t exactly the first time. Even allowing for the one or two occasions when Zac had neglected to use a condom, she’d been safeguarded by the Pill, anyway.

Leo received her call with obvious relief. ‘I thought you’d been in an accident or something,’ he said. ‘I was on the verge of ringing the police when Zac called. Don’t think about coming back to the office now. There’s nothing that can’t wait till morning. You go on home to that husband of yours.’

Given a choice, Jessica would have preferred to return to work, but Leo was going to think it very strange if she insisted on it. It seemed insensitive on the face of it to depart the hospital without saying goodbye to Sarah after all they’d gone through together, reluctant though she was to face the questions Brady no doubt had ready by now. There was nothing wrong in her and his wife having lunch together. He and Zac were the ones with the problem.

She found the three of them alone in the pleasant bedroom that was to be Sarah’s for the next few days while she acclimatised herself to being a mother. Brady had already acquainted himself with the details of their meeting. He unbent enough to offer his thanks for the speed with which Jessica had acted.

‘Naturally, I’d have preferred to be here myself,’ he said. The gaze he rested on the baby now sleeping soundly in the crib beside the bed was as proud as any new father’s would be. ‘A real Prescott, isn’t he? Grandfather will be delighted with him!’

‘I’m sure your grandmother will be too,’ Jessica felt bound to observe. ‘I spoke to Zac just now. He got back an hour ago.’ It was somewhat less than the truth, but she said it anyway. ‘He sends his congratulations.’

‘Tell him thanks.’ Brady had reverted to the hard-headed character she’d known in Dorset at the mention of Zac’s name. ‘You’ll be wanting to get back home yourself after all this.’

She’d heard subtler hints, Jessica thought drily. She caught Sarah’s eye, answering the appeal therein with a smile. ‘It’s certainly been an eventful afternoon! I’ll talk to you on the phone tomorrow, when you’re rested.’

She made her escape, glad to be away from the man she found so hard to like. His concern seemed to be more with his grandfather’s response to the news than his wife’s welfare right now. Sarah looked in dire need of sleep.

It took her nearly an hour to get home. The taxi dropped her at the entrance to the mews, leaving her to dash to number eleven in the sudden heavy downpour that had been threatening for the past half hour. Minus an umbrella, and wearing only a lightweight suit, she was soaked in seconds, her hair forming chestnut corkscrews as the curl took over. Zac came out from the sitting room as she opened the outer door. He viewed her bedraggled figure with unthrilled eyes.

‘You better get those things off before you get chilled,’ he said.

‘I’ll make you a hot drink,’ called Barbara from the kitchen.

‘Don’t bother,’ she called back. ‘I’m fine. I’ll be down in a few minutes,’ she added to Zac. ‘Do you want to stay in, or go out for dinner?’

‘We’ll go out,’ he said, retaining the same level tones.

Jessica headed up the spiral staircase. Reaching the bedroom, she stripped off to the skin, and took a quick shower, then donned fresh underwear and drew on a pair of black, lace-topped stockings to go with the hipskimming little black dress she fished from the wardrobe.

Her hair she left to dry naturally, after running a brush over it. A swift stroke of a mascara brush over her lashes, a dash of lipstick, and she was ready. Despite the lipstick, her face in the mirror looked colourless. She brushed on some blusher, but it seemed to fade away immediately. Imagination, she told herself brusquely. Any more, and she’d finish up looking like a china doll!

Barbara had gone by the time she got downstairs.

Turning to Zac, Jess asked, ‘Shall you be going to see the new arrival?’

‘I’d doubt Brady would look too favourably on a visit from me,’ Zac returned drily. ‘I don’t imagine he was any too pleased to know you’d been there at the birth when he couldn’t be.’

Jessica lifted her shoulders. ‘Understandable. Not that he made it all that obvious. He was just glad someone was with Sarah when it began. He’s beautiful. The baby, I mean. They’re calling him Henry, after his grandfather.’

‘Naturally.’ Zac studied her with a certain cynicism. ‘Made you feel a little broody yourself, did it?’

Her laugh was forced. ‘I can think babies are lovely without necessarily wanting one. It’s a lifetime commitment.’

‘And you don’t see us being together that long?’

Green eyes sought grey, unable to penetrate the depths. ‘Do you?’ she challenged.

‘Why not? Marriages have succeeded on far less than we have in common. Maybe a baby wouldn’t be such a bad idea?’

‘Especially if it put you back on a par with Brady.’ Jessica shook her head forcefully. ‘I’ve told you before, I’ve no intention of having a baby just to satisfy your grandfather. He might have the two of you in the palm of his hand, but he doesn’t have me!’

‘Fair enough.’ Zac sounded remarkably calm about it. ‘So we carry on the way we are for as long as it lasts. Where do you want to eat tonight?’

The swift change of subject left her floundering for a moment. She pulled herself together. ‘Anywhere. I don’t mind.’

‘The Minotaur, then.’

Eating out was the last thing Jessica felt like. Eating at all, in fact. Right now, bed and sleep offered the greatest inducement.

Whatever Zac’s inner feelings, he appeared his usual self on the surface the rest of the evening. The problem at the Lyon end had been ironed out without too much difficulty, he said. He didn’t mention how he’d passed the previous evening, and Jessica didn’t ask. It wasn’t outside the bounds of possibility that he’d simply had dinner at the hotel.

Perhaps with their earlier conversation in mind, Zac took care to use protection that night. His ardour was certainly no less for it though. Jessica responded as always, losing herself in the passionate caresses, in the feel of the lean, hard body, the power in his loins. As long as they had this, she could deal with the rest, she told herself on the edge of sleep.

She rang Sarah as promised the following morning, finding her exactly as she had left her the day before.

‘Life’s absolutely wonderful!’ the young mother exclaimed. ‘I can’t wait to get home with him, and show him off to everybody! Brady insisted on my having some help. Not a full-time nanny exactly, but she’ll be there several hours a day.’ She laughed. ‘I think he’s afraid I might find the whole thing too much for me and leave the poor little mite to fend for himself. As if I’d even consider it! You must come over to see us when we’re home. Zac too. It’s high time he and that husband of mine got together, if only socially.’

‘We will,’ Jessica promised, putting her doubts on that score aside. ‘Give Richard a kiss for me.’

‘Everything all right?’ asked Leo, emerging from the inner office as she put the phone down. ‘You look a bit tired this morning.’

‘Never tell a woman she looks tired,’ Jessica returned lightly. ‘It’s like saying she’s looking old!’

‘Hardly germane at your age.’ He smiled back. ‘Too many late nights, maybe? Zac doesn’t strike me as a man content to don a pair of slippers and watch TV of an evening.’

‘You’re right,’ she said, still on the same light note. ‘He’s far from ready to settle down to domesticity. Me too, for that matter.’

‘Well, providing you’re both of the same mind, there’s nothing to worry about. My marriage might have lasted a lot longer than it did if we’d shared the same outlook on life. I wanted kids, Christine saw them as too much of a tie. Something we should have gone into before we took the plunge, I suppose, but the subject never came up.’

Jessica kept a tight rein on her emotions as she gave him the file he asked for. So she was looking a little off-colour. Hardly a cause for concern on its own.

Except that it wasn’t on its own, of course. She was more than a week late. Still not such a lot, but she’d never fluctuated by that much before.

Suspicion became certainty the very next morning when she was struck by a sudden wave of nausea on rising. She made it to the bathroom just in time, viewing her pale face and lack-lustre eyes through the mirror in wry acceptance. Zac had already gone down, which was some relief. She was going to need to come to terms with this herself before telling him. Not that his reaction was likely to be a bad one with his grandfather still pulling the strings.

Women were at something of an advantage when not looking on top form in having the use of make-up. Jessica applied a light foundation, and took extra care with her eyes to combat the lack of sparkle. The result wasn’t perfect, but she doubted if Zac would notice any difference.

Breakfast finished, he was on his second cup of coffee by the time she got downstairs, his attention concentrated on the morning newspaper.

‘I was beginning to think you’d decided to go back to bed,’ he commented without looking up. ‘You’d better get a move on if you want a lift in. I’ve an early appointment. The coffee’s fresh, and there’s bread already in the toaster.’

Jessica fancied neither, but crying off breakfast altogether was hardly likely to go unnoticed. She made the toast, and spread a little marmalade, unable to face even the thought of butter. One sip of coffee was enough to convince her that drinking the rest would be tantamount to announcing the condition she was already taking as definite. She was glad she’d only half filled the cup to start with.

‘Are you likely to be going away again in the near future?’ she asked.

‘There’s nothing on the immediate agenda,’ he said. There was a slight drawing together of the dark brows as he looked across at her, but if he noted anything untoward in her appearance, he made no comment. ‘Why?’

Jessica shrugged. ‘I just wondered.’

‘Thinking about that proper honeymoon I promised you, by any chance?’ he queried. ‘Unfortunately, this isn’t the best time to go to the Maldives. It’s the start of their rainy season. Plenty of other places, though.’

Jessica stirred herself, shaking her head emphatically. ‘I didn’t mean that at all. In fact, I’d forgotten all about it!’

Regard enigmatic, he said, ‘So think about it. I like to keep my promises. Just name the place, or places, you most fancy seeing.’

‘I can’t!’ Her tone was too abrupt; she took steps to soften the rejection. ‘I mean, I can’t take time off now after just starting the job.’

‘You don’t have to do the damned job at all!’ he declared with sudden force.

Jessica firmed her jaw. ‘I know that. I want to do it.’ For as long as possible, she tagged on mentally. She swallowed as nausea stirred again, pushing back her chair. ‘We’d better get moving if you want to make that appointment.’

Zac made no further reference to the subject. He didn’t speak much at all on the way to Holbourn. He’d pick her up at five-thirty if nothing cropped up in the meantime, he said on dropping her off.

The day was fraught. Jessica wasn’t sick again, but she felt decidedly queasy. It could take as long as three months for the hormones to sort themselves out, she’d read somewhere. The nausea could apparently be relieved by medication, which called for a visit to a doctor. Zac would have one, of course, but she wasn’t ready yet to give him the news. Not while there was still the slightest chance that it was a false alarm.

She slipped out at lunchtime and bought a pregnancy testing kit, then spent fifteen minutes in the cloakroom nerving herself to do the test. The result proved positive, removing the last doubt from her mind.

Standing there, gazing at the strip, Jessica was aware of a stirring deep down in the very centre of her being. Emotional, not physical, she realised. New life was already growing inside her, minuscule at present, but destined to become a fully developed human being. Whatever else happened, this child was going to be loved and protected, she vowed.

Having resolved to tell Zac on the way home, she was dashed when he phoned to say he was going to be late. He didn’t say why, and she didn’t ask, unwilling to give any leeway to the thought that had sprung in the back of her mind. The news would keep. In fact, a little more time to assimilate it properly herself wouldn’t go amiss.

Zac took it for granted that she called for a taxi to transport her to and from the office on the occasions he was unable to do it himself. At peak times, Jessica found the tube just as quick. She had never suffered from claustrophobia in her life, but tonight, strap hanging on the packed train, she felt everything closing in on her. Hormonal again, she reckoned, thankful to emerge. Taxis might be preferable after all.

The time was going to come when she had to give the job up altogether, of course. Sitting behind a desk with a front the size Sarah’s had been would prove impossible. Whether Zac would still find her desirable when she looked like that was open to question.

She made herself a snack when he hadn’t turned up by eight o’clock. Not because she felt like eating, but because she had a responsibility towards the life growing inside her. By nine she was beginning to doubt, by ten to definitely suspect. When he finally arrived at half-past, she was ready to let fly.

‘Where do you think I’ve been?’ he responded curtly. ‘With another woman?’

The directness of it took her aback for a moment, but only for a moment. Attack had always been the best means of defence.

‘Why not?’ she challenged. ‘We’ve been married a whole six and a half weeks! A long time for a man as used as you are to playing the field!’

One dark brow lifted sardonically. ‘If I’ve given the impression I’m bored with you, I must try to do better. If you want the truth, I’ve been seeing an old friend. Male, as it happens. In town for the one night before heading back to New York.’

Jessica rallied her waning forces. ‘So why didn’t you tell me that when you phoned?’

‘Because I was already late for a meeting. I could have got my secretary to phone you with more detail, of course, but I didn’t think that would go down too well. Was I wrong?’

‘No,’ she said after a moment.

Zac eyed her dispassionately. ‘You look tired. You should have gone to bed.’

‘I’m fine.’ It was an effort to keep her tone from reflecting her feelings. She tried a new track. ‘I phoned Sarah this morning. They’re both still doing well. She wants us to go over when she’s home.’

‘She might, Brady certainly won’t.’

The anger returned full force. ‘It’s about time the two of you started pulling together!’ she snapped. ‘You’re like dogs fighting over a bone—with your grandfather on the sideline urging you on! You’re cousins, for God’s sake!’

‘Even closer than that.’ Zac was angry himself, his eyes like cold steel. ‘My father had an affair with Brady’s mother. He was the result. That makes him my half brother.’

Jessica gazed at him in shock for several seconds before she found her voice again. ‘Does he know?’

‘Yes, he knows. His mother told him the truth after our fathers were killed, and he told me.’

Mind whirling, Jessica said slowly, ‘Your mother had no idea?’

‘Oh, yes. She’d been aware of it from the start.’

‘But she stayed with him? Your father, I mean.’

‘She stayed for my sake. I was about six months old when Brady was born.’

Green eyes widened. ‘Your father had the affair while your mother was pregnant with you?’

‘So it would appear.’ Zac looked as if he was beginning to regret having begun this. ‘Some men find pregnancy a sexual turn-off. And no, I’m not finding excuses for him, but his sister-in-law—my aunt—obviously made herself readily available.’

Jessica’s head was lowered, the lump in her throat hard to swallow. If his father had found pregnancy a sexual turn-off, then it was likely that he might too. Not a brilliant outlook for a marriage lacking anything else to hold it together—apart from those damned shares!

‘Lousy situation though it is, I don’t think you and Brady should allow it to colour your lives to the extent you do,’ she said thickly. ‘Your grandfather doesn’t help.’ She looked up as the thought struck her. ‘He did know?’

Zac gave a short laugh. ‘He didn’t at the time. If he had, he’d have cut Dad off pronto. Brady told him within days of hearing it himself. Hence the added pressure on me to make good.’

‘You can’t possibly be blamed for what your father did!’

‘As his son, I’m expected to atone for it.’

‘That’s unfair!’

‘That’s life,’ Zac returned drily. ‘We’ve been asked to make another visit, by the way.’

‘Asked,’ she flashed, ‘or commanded?’

The shrug was brief. ‘Tell it the way you see it. Whatever his faults, I’m fond of the old devil. Even more so of my grandmother. She’s devoted a lifetime to him. The least I can do is spend the occasional weekend.’ He paused, eyes veiled now as he regarded her. ‘I can’t force you to come with me, of course. That has to be up to you.’

‘But it will hardly do your image any good if I don’t.’

The sarcasm left him unmoved. ‘Probably not. Anyway, it’s been a long day. I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too long. You look a bit washed out yourself.’

He was gone before she could comment. Not that there was a great deal she could have said other than to tell him the reason she looked washed out, as he so tactfully put it. Her pregnancy would certainly enhance his stature in Henry Prescott’s eyes, but how would he regard it himself? A baby was going to alter their whole way of living.

He was asleep when she finally went up, lying on his back, his breathing deep and even. Many men snored in that position, she’d heard, but she didn’t even have that much to find fault with.

The night was warm, and he’d pushed the duvet aside. Nude, as always in bed, his body gleamed like bronze in the soft light from the bedside lamp he’d left burning. Jessica studied the strong, clean lines, eyes traversing a route downwards over the broad chest with its tapering V of hair to the hard-packed midriff and narrowed hipline, the firmly muscled thighs enclosing the very essence of his masculinity.

Even dormant, he was well-endowed. She touched her tongue to lips gone dry at the image in her mind’s eye of how he looked when he was fully aroused. She wanted him desperately, but she wasn’t prepared to waken him. Not the way things were. He would have to know eventually, of course, but not yet. It was hardly as if she was going to give birth tomorrow.