Читать книгу Phantom Marriage - Пенни Джордан, PENNY JORDAN - Страница 6

SHE woke up with a headache; a heavy unrelenting pressure behind her eyes and a lethargic disinclination to do anything, much less spend an entire weekend having to be polite to virtual strangers. But she couldn’t disappoint the twins, neither could she run the risk of Chas catching her out in a lie. She wished desperately that he would cease his pursuit of her. In other circumstances she would simply have given him a cool rebuff, but he was her employer and she could not afford to lose her job.

The twins were wildly excited, making her feel guilty about her own dread of the weekend ahead. For some perverse reason Mandy, who normally disdained feminine frills in favour of jeans and sweat-shirts, decided that she wanted to wear a pretty cotton pinafore Tara had bought for her several weeks previously, and by the time the requisite underskirt and spotless white blouse had been found to wear with it Tara’s head was thumping nauseously.

Susan had arranged for her chauffuer to pick them up at ten o’clock, and by a miracle by ten to the packing was done and the twins ready, which was more than could be said for her, Tara decided feverishly, tugging a comb through her hair and applying lipstick deftly to the soft curves of her mouth.

The unexpected sunshine had prompted her into a new outfit she had bought for work and not yet worn She had seen it in a small boutique off South Moulton Street, reduced because of its small size, and had bought it knowing that it would be just right for the receptions Chas sometimes held in the evening as a publicity exercise.

A rich, vivid blue, it was a three-piece in pure silk with a camisole top which just skimmed the curves of her breasts, and a softly shaped skirt gathered into a deep waistband and topped with a matching jacket, whose sleeves she rolled back in the fashion she had seen adopted by the models who came to the studio.

Working in such an environment meant that she had developed a keen eye for adapting prevalent trends to her own personality. The silk brushed sensuously against her skin; she had left her hair in a soft cloud against her shoulders, and the sample of the new Armarni scent the Vogue Beauty Editor had given her had been used to good effect. Such samples were her one and only perk. At Christmas she had been presented with what amounted to almost a full trousseau of luxurious Italian underwear by the manufacturer; a gesture of his gratitude for the effect of advertisements Chas had photographed, although such munificence was relatively rare.

Today she was wearing some of it; the briefest of satin bras trimmed with handmade lace to match the dainty suspender belt and briefs that were part of the set.

Vanity was largely responsible for today’s primping, she decided, giving herself a last brief look in her mirror. Even though at one time she and Susan had once been as close as sisters a wide gulf yawned between them now.

Susan was a rich man’s wife, and it showed, and although she would never be guilty of patronising a less fortunate friend, Tara had no wish to earn her pity by arriving in inexpensive chain-store casuals.

First impressions always counted, Tara reminded herself and when she and the twins stepped out of Susan’s Rolls she didn’t want them to look like the poor relations.

Susan had explained to her that she and her husband would be driving down to the country ahead of them, which was why the Rolls was free to transport Tara, but despite the knowledge that her appearance was both chic and sophisticated she couldn’t stop the tiny bubbles of anxiety forming in the pit of her stomach when the twins’ joint shrieks announced the arrival of their transport.

Not wanting to keep the chauffeur waiting, Tara sped downstairs, picking up their case with one hand and ushering the twins through the front door with the other. Outside she told them to wait while she checked her handbag for keys and money, and carefully locked the door.

The sight of the immaculate Rolls seemed to have a subduing effect upon the twins, because they clung uncertainly to Tara’s side as she hustled them towards the waiting car.

As they approached it the driver’s door opened and a man emerged. Her first thought was that he wasn’t wearing a uniform, but this was quickly submerged by a sickening wave of recognition mingled with stunned disbelief.

‘Tara!’

He said her name evenly, the inflection which in the past had sent her weak-kneed with pleasure totally banished. He had changed; or was it simply that her perception of him had changed from that of a bemused teenager to that of a disillusioned woman?

‘James.’ Somehow she managed to force a stiff smile from features as tautly fragile as eggshells. Now she was the one clinging to the twins, filled by an overwhelming impulse to turn on her heel and seek the sanctuary of her home.

James barely glanced at his children, and watching his cool disregard of them, Tara forced back an hysterical impulse to laugh. So much for all those daydreams she had woven during the long lonely months of her pregnancy when she had fantasised about James appearing to discover that she was the mother of his child and being overcome by love for both of them.

‘Quite a surprise,’ she managed to say calmly. ‘Susan never mentioned that you would be picking us up.’

‘A last minute arrangement,’ James told her briefly Without looking at her. ‘I’ve just returned from the States and when I invited myself down to Dovecote for the weekend they suggested that I give you a lift so that they could give their chauffeur a weekend off.’

‘Susan should have telephoned, I could have used my own car.’

Tara flushed when his eyes suddenly fastened on her face; no longer the warm, teasing dark blue she remembered but as hard and flat as river pebbles and totally without expression as they surveyed her heightened-colour and defensive grip on the twins.

‘Mummy, you’re hurting me!’ Mandy protested, casting an upward glance at the tall, dark-haired man watching them; a glance which Tara noticed was full of coquettishly innocent appeal.

‘Why don’t we all get in the car!’ James suggested, bending to relieve Tara of the weight of the case. Their fingers touched accidentally, and Tara withdrew as though she had been burned by live coals.

‘Explicit but unnecessary,’ James told her crisply, stowing her case away, ‘I got the message the first time round.’

Tara assumed that he was referring to the shock which must have been apparent when she saw him step out of the car. This meeting must be as unwelcome to him as it was to her, she reflected miserably as she followed the children to the waiting car, but at least he had had the advantage of being forearmed.

The first ten minutes of their journey passed easily enough as the twins exclaimed over the luxury of their transport; Tara couldn’t help wishing that James had not ushered her into the front passenger seat, but it seemed gauche to make a fuss about it. After all, he could scarcely have any more desire for her company than she had for his!

He was both the same and yet different, she decided, stealing a brief glance at his impassive profile. There was a total and unrelenting male hardness about him now that she did not remember; when she was seventeen he had seemed the epitome of all her adolescent dreams; gentle, understanding, tender. No one would ever dream of attributing those virtues to the man now seated next to her.

His dark hair was still untouched by grey; and although he was wearing a discreetly expensive suit she suspected that physically he had changed little in the seven years they had been apart. There had been a supple arrogance about the way he had walked towards her which suggested that he was a man at the peak of physical perfection. She remembered the cataclysmic night he had returned from California; then his skin had had the silky sheen of a sun tan, his body a rich bronze. Her palms tingled as though she could still feel the soft suppleness of his flesh against them, and she shuddered deeply, wrenching her thoughts away from the past.

In the back seat the twins were playing a game, vying with one another in their attempts to count as many cars of a particular type as they could.

‘Susan tells me you’re a widow.’

He hadn’t taken his eyes off the road. Tara felt as though a huge boulder were stuck in her throat.

‘Yes,’ she agreed, forcing out the lie.

‘I’m sorry.’ The words were a formality. ‘What happened?’

‘John was killed abroad,’ Tara said huskily, repeating the fabrication which had become familiar to her over the years. ‘Before the twins were born. They never knew him, nor he them.’

‘A mutual loss,’ James said quietly. ‘You’ve never thought of remarrying?’

‘One has to be asked,’ Tara heard herself saying drily, to her own surprise. ‘Besides,’ she moved restlessly in her deep hide-covered seat, ‘I believe one parent who really cares is more important than two who quarrel.’

‘You yourself lost your father, if I remember rightly,’ James commented. ‘At least with your own experience to call upon you’ll be able to ensure that your own daughter doesn’t fall into the same traps.’

‘People normally make their own mistakes,’ Tara said tiredly. Although the comment had been delivered in a perfectly flat emotionless voice she had been vividly reminded of one occasion when they had been together and he had accused her of trying to turn him into a father-substitute. She had been furious, reminding him that it was eight years that separated them, not eighteen.

‘You’ve been working in America?’ she asked him, deliberately trying to change the subject.

‘I have various business interests there, some jointly with Susan’s mother. Susan will have told you that she’s married again?’

‘Yes. Actually I didn’t realise…’ Tara broke off and moistened her suddenly dry lips. She had been going to say that the had not realised they were divorced, but the remark had provocative undertones she wanted to avoid.

‘That Hilary would venture into marriage again?’ He shrugged. ‘Like many women of her wealth and generation she tends to make a career of it. This one’s number four.’

‘Four!’ It was too late for her to hide her surprise. As far as she knew James had been Hilary’s second husband.

‘You sound surprised?’

‘I hadn’t realised you’d been divorced long enough for her to have remarried twice. I…’

‘You didn’t stay around long enough to find out.’ The cool comment nonplussed her. It was almost an accusation, but what did James possibly have to accuse her about? He had been the one who had rejected her; who had laughed with Hilary about her foolish love for him, and who had coldly turned his back on her, leaving her to face the trauma of the twins’ birth alone.

‘What was I supposed to do?’ she asked in a bitter, low voice. ‘I couldn’t put the clock back, I…’

‘So you scuttled off into a nice, safe marriage?’

Colour burned along her cheekbones, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. She would never, never have agreed to this weekend if she had had the slightest suspicion that James was going to be there. How on earth was she going to endure it? Especially if he was going to keep taunting her with these barbed remarks.

Simon distracted her attention excitedly, pointing out some sheep grazing in a field. They had turned on to the M4 and were travelling west.

To Tara’s surprise, just after twelve James pulled off the motorway and took a minor road which wound its way down a narrow B-road bordered by high hedges laced with early summer flowers.

‘I told Sue that I’d give you lunch,’ he explained, answering Tara’s unspoken question. ‘The house is a large one and although she does have some help she and Alec go down there primarily to relax.’

Before Tara could object he turned into an immaculate drive, marked ‘Country Club—members only.’

‘Relax,’ she was instructed. ‘I’m a member and they’ve been warned to expect us. I own a house locally myself, although at the moment it’s occupied by some American friends of mine.’

The country club had once been a farmhouse and the large barn had been converted into an attractive restaurant with high oriel windows set along the length of it and a separate bar inside which occupied a galleried landing.

The twins were entranced, as much by the novelty of eating out as by their surroundings. Mandy gravely confided to James, as she attached herself to his side, that it was just as well she had worn her best dress.

The comment invited a response, and Tara’s unwary heart lurched when James bent his head equally gravely and said, ‘You look very pretty in it. Blue suits you.’

‘Mummy chose it,’ Mandy informed him, visibly expanding. ‘I normally wear jeans ‘cos they’re more fun to play in. Have you got any children?’ she asked him forthrightly. She was at that stage when the niceties of curbing personal questions were ignored and seemed to have developed a thirst for knowledge about other people’s private lives.

‘Mandy…’ Tara warned, but James silenced her, lifting his eyebrows and saying smoothly. ‘Regrettably, no.’

Hypocrite, Tara thought resentfully as they were escorted to a table. He didn’t want any children, any responsibility for lives other than his own.

However, despite his lack of parental experience he was very adroit at ordering suitable food for the twins and keeping them occupied while they waited for their meal to arrive. Like Tara herself, their school believed strongly in the importance of good manners, and Tara felt a small thrill of pride at the way Simon and Mandy adapted to their surroundings. They were drawing admiring smiles from other diners, and one woman en route to her table stopped off to speak to James, whom she obviously knew, staring rather hard at Tara and the twins.

‘Margot, let me introduce Tara and the twins to you. Tara is an old schoolfriend of Sue’s. Margot is one of Sue’s neighbours,’ James explained. ‘Like you, she’s a widow.’

‘Only I don’t have any children, darling,’ the other woman pointed out, eyeing the twins unfavourably.

She was somewhere in her late thirties, Tara estimated, although she concealed the fact well, but in her job Tara had become adept at judging what lay beneath the most skilfully applied make-up. She was also subtly warning her that James was strictly private property, Tara acknowledged. She could have him, she thought vehemently, pushing away her sweet untouched and refusing to acknowledge the swiftly stabbing pain their relationship brought, and dismissing the nauseous feeling in her stomach as the result of too much to eat.

Watching the waiter’s deferential attitude towards James, Tara was vividly reminded of the one and only occasion they had dined out together. It had been Sue’s fifteenth birthday; and she had been dizzy with delight when he announced that he had booked a table at a locally acclaimed restaurant. Even the knowledge that Sue was to accompany them had done nothing to dissipate her mother’s disapproval, Tara remembered. She also remembered the brief kiss James had pressed on her untried lips before pushing her out of the car when he took her home. That kiss had changed everything between them.

‘Physically the twins aren’t like you at all.’ James’s cool observation cut across the disturbing memories of the past. ‘They must take after their father.’

Her fork clattered noisily on to the floor as an abrupt movement dislodged it. Her face the colour of the tablecloth, Tara bent to retrieve it, glad of the opportunity to escape James’s too seeing eyes.

‘Do they?’

Was he blind? she wondered hysterically. Could he really not see in the twins’ features the many resemblances to himself that struck her every day?

‘Strange,’ he mused, frowning a little. ‘They remind me of someone.’

Tara thought her heart would stop beating, but somehow she managed to shrug noncommittally, turning away to urge the children to finish their meal.

‘Did I know him?’ There was a terse urgency in the question that caught her off guard.

‘I…’

‘You met him when you went to stay with your aunt and uncle, or so I heard in the village. It must have been a whirlwind courtship,’ he sneered, glancing meaningfully at the twins. ‘Or did you afford him the same privileges I once thought belonged exclusively to me?’

If they hadn’t been in public there was no way she could have prevented herself from hitting him. As it was, it was only by a supreme effort of will that she was able to prevent herself from screaming the truth at him.

With that one sentence he had managed to destroy the last fragile, lingering remnants of her romantic daydreams; beliefs she had clung to without even being aware that she was doing so. His words forced her to admit that what for her had been the experience of a lifetime had for him been nothing more than the gratification of momentary lust, otherwise he could never have spoken to her as he just had.

From somewhere she mustered the dignity to say calmly, ‘The personal relationship I enjoyed with the twins’ father is something very precious to me, and I don’t discuss it with anyone.’

‘Including your children,’ James pointed out astutely. ‘I don’t think I’ve heard them mention him once. Did you love him so much that you can’t even bear to share his memory with his children? You did love him, I suppose? Unless my memory deceives me you were an extremely sensual creature; hot-blooded, shall we say,’ he added drily, his mouth twisting, ‘but with a certain prudishness curiously at odds with your real personality. I suppose in those circumstances it wouldn’t have been impossible for you to marry young; to legalise those desires of which your mother had taught you to be so ashamed.’

Tara was relieved that the twins were too engrossed in their own conversation and their surroundings to pay any attention to them. Where her face had been pale, now it was hotly flushed, words of bitter denial trembling on her lips, but all she could manage was a fierce, choked, ‘I did love him, and you have no right to say such things!’

‘No right?’ His laughter was bitterly harsh. ‘My God, you can say that, when…’ He broke off as Mandy suddenly claimed his attention, and not wanting to prolong the conversation, Tara hustled both children out of their seats, saying feverishly that it was time they were on their way.

James unlocked the car and made sure the twins were comfortable in the back, but when Tara would have joined them he forestalled her again, firmly closing the door and then reaching past her to unlock the passenger door.

His arm brushed against the thin silk of her jacket and she froze, as physically aware of the hardness of his flesh as she would have been had their contact been skin upon skin. She always had been acutely aware of him, and that at least had not changed. He was a disturbingly sensual man and her body, no longer that of a girl, naïve about the opposite sex, responded instinctively to him, the bones in her skull clenching against the knowledge of her vulnerability to him. Being close to him was like losing a toughened outer layer of skin; a physically painful process leaving nerve endings far too close to the surface and every one of them reacting to his proximity. Even so, she refused to move away, telling herself that to do so would be stupidly selfconscious, but all her hard-learned composure was not enough to slow the hurried thudding of her heart or stop the aching tension of her throat.

His fingers gripped the door handle; lean and brown, a discreet sheen of gold at his cuff, the immaculate shirt protruding exactly half an inch below the expensive wool of his suit jacket. The door opened and his free hand was on her elbow; an automatic gesture of assistance, and yet somehow Tara sensed that it had been deliberate, although it was impossible to know why, especially when, risking an upward glance into his face, she surprised upon it a look of acute dislike, reinforced by the swiftness with which his hand was withdrawn.

At best she should have felt nothing; at worst relief, but instead what she did feel was a bleak and terrifying sense of rejection.

Old habits died hard, she told herself cynically as he closed the door on her and walked round the front of the car; and somehow she had never recovered from the habit of being rejected by James.

Her flesh still tingled where he had touched it, and although the twins were soon drowsy and on the verge of sleep, Tara herself found it almost impossible to relax.

It was a relief when the Rolls finally turned into the cobbled forecourt of what James explained to her had once been a Cotswold farmhouse. Now the cream stone was weathered with age, and early flowering pale yellow roses smothered the front south-facing wall.

The farmhouse, although large and rambling, had a comfortable, welcoming ambience that helped to soothe a little of Tara’s taut anxiety, especially when Sue came hurrying out to greet them the moment she heard the Rolls. James and Tara were hugged unceremoniously. ‘This is lovely!’ Sue exclaimed with genuine warmth as she led them inside.

A copper bowl full of the same roses Tara had seen outside gleamed on a polished mahogany table. The hall was square with warm panelling and a parquet floor. An intricately carved banister curved upwards and out of sight, a tall window on the half landing flooding the hall with light and trapping dusty motes in its golden gleam.

A cream labrador had materialised from outside, throughly enjoying the fuss the twins were making of her. Firmly detaching them, Tara followed Sue towards the stairs.

‘I’ll just show you to your rooms and then we’ll have a cup of tea and a chat. Oh, it’s all right,’ she smiled when she saw the $$twins’ disappointed faces. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony down here, and although Alec tends to disapprove Misty is allowed upstairs.’

‘Where is Alec?’ James asked.

‘In the study. He had to bring some work up with him. I think he’ll appreciate a helping hand. Alec manages one of James’s companies,’ Sue explained to Tara with a grin. ‘That’s how I met him.’ She grimaced as a thin childish cry pierced the warmth of the afternoon. ‘There’s Piers—furious! I put him down for a sleep after lunch. It’s a miracle he’s slept this long really. I keep telling myself it’s time we provided him with a brother or sister—at the moment he tends to be the centre of attention and he knows it. Remember,’ she commented to Tara taking the next flight of stairs, ‘how we used to say that neither of us would settle for just one child after our own experiences?’ She laughed. ‘I knew you meant it, but I didn’t guess how you were going to achieve it!’

‘I’ve put the twins next to you,’ she added. ‘The rooms have a connecting door. Oh, and by the way, the plumbing arrangements are somewhat archaic as yet, so you and James will be sharing a bathroom. I hope you don’t mind?’

‘She doesn’t mean literally,’ James murmured jokingly, so that only Tara could hear, adding, ‘Don’t worry, you’re quite safe. I’ve reached the age where I restrict my indulgence in water sports to swimming and sailing.’

‘You’re in your normal room, James,’ Sue told him as they reached the landing. ‘And these are your rooms,’ she told Tara, pausing outside a heavy oak door. ‘This part of the house was once the barn, but it’s been converted into living space.’

James had disappeared, into his own room, Tara presumed, and she felt free to echo Mandy’s sigh of pleasure when Sue opened the door to reveal an attractive bedroom with open beams and a tiny mullioned window.

‘We’ve tried to keep as much of the country atmosphere as possible without being too earnestly authentic,’ she explained.

‘It’s lovely!’ Tara enthused admiringly. The room was decorated in pastels and soft greens; pretty fresh cotton curtains at the windows and a traditional American patchwork quilt on the bed.

‘James brought that back from one of his trips,’ Sue told her. ‘Do you find him very changed?’

‘A little older,’ Tara said cautiously.

‘I was thrilled when he called to say he was back in England. We don’t see as much of him as we’d like— the companies take up most of his time. It’s funny really, in many ways he means more to me than my mother, although he’s scarcely the traditional father figure.’

‘You must have been very sorry when their marriage broke up,’ Tara said, hoping that her voice wouldn’t betray her.

Sue shrugged. ‘Not really. I could never understand why James married my mother.’ She frowned. ‘There was always something odd about it, and not just because he was younger than her. You know, when I look back I can’t believe that he ever loved her or that she loved him.’

‘There are other reasons for marriage,’ Tara said emotionlessly.

‘I know, but somehow I could never imagine James marrying without a deep emotional commitment—he just doesn’t strike me as that kind of man. Look, I’ll go downstairs and ask Mrs B., our treasure, to make us a pot of tea and some orange for the kids, and you come down when you’re ready and I’ll introduce you to Alec. We’ll be in the sitting room. It looks out over the gardens, first left in the hall.’ She walked towards the door, paused and then said impulsively, ‘I’m so glad you and James could both be here together. It’s almost like old times…’

They viewed ‘old times’ differently, Tara thought tiredly as she unpacked for the twins and herself; Simon and Mandy had made themselves at home almost immediately, and within twenty minutes of Sue leaving them they were ready to return downstairs with Tara; their hands and faces washed and the clothes they had travelled in exchanged for dungarees and tee-shirts.

Everyone else was already in the sitting room, as Sue had called it, but what in actual fact was a generously proportioned room furnished in tones of pale lemon and soft blue, with huge french windows opening on to the gardens.