Innocent on Her Wedding Night (13 page)

‘That,’ he said, ‘is a definite relief.’ He studied her for a moment, then said gently, ‘I’ve startled you, haven’t I, sweetheart? I didn’t intend that. I thought your female intuition would have warned you why I’d whisked you away with me this evening.’

She tried to smile. ‘Perhaps I’m not very female.’

‘Now, that I don’t believe.’ Quite casually, he turned her hand over and began to trace a gentle circle in its soft palm with the ball of his thumb. It was the lightest of touches, but Laine felt it piercing her, transfixing her with a shaft of desire so swift, so intense and so totally unexpected that she almost cried aloud in amazement. And in overwhelming need.

She was suddenly melting, liquid with a hunger she’d never even guessed could exist. Aware, too, that her nipples were swelling, hardening against their flimsy constraints, and that her every sense was on fire with the consciousness of him, and his proximity to her. Knew, at the same time that she wanted to be even closer. To be joined to him. To be part of him for ever, totally and irrevocably. To be a woman—his woman.

His voice reached her in a quiet murmur of sound. ‘Marry me, Laine.’

Her mouth was dry, the breath catching in her throat, but somehow she managed to whisper back, ‘Yes.’

And saw him bend his head in brief acknowledgment.

He released her hand, his mouth twisting in faint ruefulness. ‘And now,’ He said, ‘we’d better go and break the news to your mother.’

She wanted to cry childishly, But I don’t want to go yet. You’re staying here—you said so—and I want to be alone with you.

But of course she said nothing of the kind, just smiled and nodded, and tried to conceal the feeling of inner dread that was uncurling deep inside her, praying that it wouldn’t be justified.

She was wrong.

‘You want to marry Elaine?’ Angela stared at Daniel with narrowed eyes. ‘This child? But that’s quite absurd. I couldn’t possibly agree to any such thing.’

Laine stood beside him, her hand in his, wanting to sink through the floor with humiliation. She was aware of Candida sitting bolt upright, her face like a mask carved from stone, and Jeff Tanfield standing gaping by the drinks table, a glass in one hand, a whisky decanter in the other, as his already pink complexion deepened to crimson.

Daniel said quietly, ‘I’m not asking your consent, Mrs Sinclair. I don’t have to. I’m merely informing you of our intentions as a matter of courtesy. We plan to be married within the next few weeks.’

‘But that’s quite impossible.’ Angela gestured wildly. ‘I have this house to sell—a move to Spain to arrange. I couldn’t possibly organise a full-dress wedding as well.’

‘You won’t be asked to,’ Daniel said curtly. ‘I’ll talk to the Vicar myself about a mid-week date, and the guest-list—on my side anyway—will be minimal.

We’ll hold a small reception here afterwards, and I’ll book the caterer and supply the champagne. The only contribution you need make is to help Laine choose something to wear and send the bill to me.’

‘You must have lost your mind,’ Angela said shortly. ‘For one thing the Daniel Flynns of this world simply do not get married at the drop of a hat to some little nobody in an out-of-the-way place like this.’

He gave her a level look. ‘Well, naturally I can’t speak for the rest of us, but this Daniel Flynn generally pleases himself. And my current intention is to make Laine my wife as quickly and as simply as possible.’ He turned to the girl at his side, lifting the hand he was clasping to his lips. ‘Which seems to be what she wants too.’

‘Yes.’ She found a voice from somewhere. ‘I do.’

‘And what about her mother in all this?’ Jeff Tanfield put down the decanter and moved forward with sudden belligerence. ‘Angela was relying on Elaine’s active support in this new venture of ours in Spain. We both were—as she well knows. As part of the team she’d gain valuable and exciting work experience—and also the chance to see something of the world.’

Daniel looked at him, his lip curling. ‘She’d provide you with a valuable skivvy, certainly. However, I think Laine will find living and travelling with me rather more amusing than the view from some Spanish laundry room. And I guarantee that the pay and conditions will be better too.’

Angela’s laugh was metallic. ‘Quite a Cinderella story—isn’t it? Except I can’t really visualise you as Prince Charming, my dear Daniel. I hope, for her sake, that my daughter knows what she’s taking on.’

‘If not, I’m sure you’ll tell her.’ His gaze flicked her contemptuously, then he turned and looked down at Laine, his expression softening. ‘The cab’s waiting, darling, and the driver has another job later. I have to go.’ He saw the desperation in her eyes and smiled reassuringly. ‘But I’ll be over first thing in the morning to take you shopping for a ring.’

Take me with you, she begged silently. Don’t leave me here with them. Take me away now—please.

‘Elaine has work to do tomorrow.’ Angela’s voice was inimical. ‘Besides, she’ll also be needed to show prospective buyers around.’

‘Use the estate agent,’ Daniel advised with equal coldness. ‘That’s what you’re paying him for. And I’ll get on to an agency and hire someone to take over Laine’s kitchen duties.’ He put his arm round Laine’s waist. ‘Now, come and say goodnight to me, sweetheart.’

The night was warm, but Laine shivered as she stood with him at the main door.

‘That was so horrible.’

‘It could have been worse, believe me.’ His tone was wry.

‘I don’t know how.’ There was a touch of desolation in her own voice. ‘Dan—I could go on doing the housework here. Mother might appreciate it, and I really don’t mind.’

‘But I do. I want your hands beautifully soft for our honeymoon.’ He grinned teasingly as her face warmed, then bent his head and kissed her swiftly and sensuously on the mouth. ‘Sweet dreams,’ he told her, and went.

Laine couldn’t face going back into the drawing room, so she went upstairs to get ready for bed—although she seriously doubted whether sleep would be an option.

She was just about to switch off her lamp when the door opened and her mother came in.

‘Well, you’re certainly a dark horse. Feed him some sob story, did you?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Or is there another reason for this hasty wedding? He hasn’t got you pregnant, by some mischance?’

Laine’s face flamed. ‘You know that’s not true.’

Angela shrugged. ‘I can’t think of any other reason for him to bother with you.

Although I suppose young flesh will always have its appeal—even to a sophisticate like Daniel Flynn. But marriage?’ She laughed harshly. ‘Never in this world, my dear.’

Laine sat up very straight, her throat so dry it hurt. ‘It doesn’t occur to you that he might be in love with me?’

‘No, frankly, it doesn’t. Is that what he’s told you?’

‘Of course.’ Surreptitiously Laine crossed her fingers under the covers. Because she suddenly realised that Dan had never mentioned the word ‘love’. Not when he’d proposed. Not in the cab-ride back to Abbotsbrook. Not while they were saying goodnight.

Not once.

And after Angela had finally left, and she was alone, it was a thought that came back to haunt her over and over again throughout the long night.

So, why did I go on with it, as if everything was all right? Laine asked herself wearily. Because our engagement was a pretty muted affair by anyone’s standards.

Even with my inexperience I could see that.

Not that he’d been there very much, she reminded herself. And when he had come to see her he’d never stayed at the house, but made Langbow Manor his base again. And, though she’d dined with him there, it had always been in the restaurant. He’d never once suggested that they should be alone together in his suite. And she had been too shy to ask. To tell him how desperately she wanted to go into his arms—to belong to him completely.

‘So, where’s your ardent lover this weekend?’ her mother had once asked witheringly. ‘Conspicuous by his absence yet again.’

‘Wordwide are involved in a takeover bid for a German magazine company,’ Laine had said quietly. ‘It’s—thrown up some problems, and he needs to be there.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Besides, we have the rest of our lives to be together.’

‘If you say so,’ Angela had retorted with a shrug, and left Laine to her own devices.

But even when absent Daniel had been as good as his word on other matters. All the arrangements for the wedding had been in place without fuss or argument, and Laine had found that a bank account had been opened for her, containing more money than she could ever envisage spending.

In addition, a Mrs Goodman had been installed as temporary housekeeper, and had listened patiently to Angela’s orders and counter-orders, then gone her own briskly efficient way.

And Laine had received a phone call from a local driving school, requesting her to obtain a provisional licence as a course of lessons had been booked for her.

Everything I could have wished for, she thought. Except one—the most important—the most crucial of all. The knowledge of his true feelings where I was concerned.

So why didn’t I simply face up to the problem—ask him if he loved me?

Well, she told herself, she knew the answer to that. She’d loved him, and wanted him more than anything in the world. And Daniel’s own restraint—those brief, gentle kisses and fleeting caresses which aroused but did not satisfy—had only served to intensify her longing to fever-pitch.

It was as well, she thought, that she’d had so much to do, or she might have gone a little crazy. As a result, she had just allowed herself to be carried forward on the non-stop tide of activity, and tried not to think too much.

One of her tasks had been to sort through her books and other personal possessions, and transfer those she wished to keep to Daniel’s London flat—something had made the idea of being his wife seem slightly more real. That and the exquisite ruby and diamond cluster that they’d both spotted at the same moment from the myriad brought out for their inspection, smiling at each other and saying in unison, ‘That’s the one.’

The tangible evidence that he truly was going to marry her, she’d often thought, touching it gently.

She’d tried to be ruthless and only take the things that really mattered into her new life, giving the rest to the local charity shop. Nothing could have stayed where it was, anyway, because Abbotsbrook had been sold, and the buyer wanted vacant possession almost immediately.

‘It’s going to be a very expensive care home,’ she’d told Daniel on one of the occasions when they were dining together. ‘Apparently he has a chain of them.’

‘You don’t approve?’

Laine sighed. ‘It’s sold, and my mother is pleased, which has to be a good thing. But I think I always hoped that it would go on being a real home—for a family. That there’d be other children growing up there who’d love it as I did.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Are your memories of it really so happy? I didn’t realise.’

‘Not all,’ she said. ‘But a great many of them.’ And most of them to do with you, my love—my love…

She forced a smile. ‘Anyway, it’s gone, and as far as Mother’s concerned it’s hasta la vista.’

‘I hope she got a good price,’ Daniel commented caustically. ‘She’ll need it to afford the upkeep on the glamorous Mr Tanfield’s cosmetic dentistry, quite apart from anything else.’

Laine nearly choked on a mouthful of turbot. ‘His smile is—dazzling,’ she admitted, trying not to giggle. ‘But they do seem happy together, I suppose.’

‘Heart-warming,’ Daniel said dryly. ‘And probably temporary. Has she considered drawing up a pre-nuptial agreement?’

Laine looked down at her plate, aware she was flushing. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think so.’ But, by a horrible coincidence, that was the exact advice she gave me last night—and one of the reasons we’re barely on speaking terms right now. The other being she’s invited Candida to the wedding.

‘And if he dumps you when the novelty wears off—what then?’ Angela had demanded.

‘He’s a very rich man, my dear—a multimillionaire, no less. He can afford to pay for his pleasures.’

‘If he dumps me,’ Laine had replied, wincing at the crudity, ‘then no amount of money could ever make things better, believe me.’

What neither she nor her mother had foreseen, of course, was that she would be the one who walked away.

It rained on her wedding morning, but the skies brightened just before she set off to the church, and Celia, who was helping her get ready, told her it was a good omen—the best.

‘Do you know where you’re going on honeymoon?’ she asked. ‘Or is it a surprise?’

‘We can’t go too far away while this takeover business is still simmering.’ Laine examined herself from all angles in the mirror, making sure the expensively demure white satin suit she’d chosen hadn’t developed any unsightly wrinkles or bulges overnight. ‘So Daniel’s rented us some secluded hideaway in the depths of the countryside.’

‘Good God,’ Celia said blankly. ‘Does it have plumbing?’

Laine laughed. ‘I think so—plus a swimming pool, so it can’t be too primitive.’ Although a shed in someone’s garden would do, as long as I was with him….

‘And when things settle down at Wordwide he says he’ll take me somewhere glamorous and romantic to make up for it,’ she added.

‘He hasn’t a brother, by any chance?’ Celia’s eyes were dancing. ‘Or even a cousin by marriage?’

‘Sorry, love.’ Laine grinned back at her. ‘But I gather the best man’s unattached—just.’

Celia gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Then I’ll simply have to lower my sights.’ She wandered across to Laine’s suitcase, open on the bed, and ran a reverent hand over the folds of the delicate white voile nightgown lying on top.

‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Gorgeous, but a total waste of money.’

Laine concentrated fiercely on transferring her engagement ring to her other hand. ‘Oh, I thought I’d better have one—in case of fire.’

There was a silence, then Celia said, very gently, ‘Lainie—there’s nothing to worry about, truly.’

Laine looked at her, stricken. ‘Oh, God, is it so obvious?’

‘And if it is—so what?’ Celia returned robustly. ‘You bypass the frogs and get to kiss your prince first time around, that’s all.’ She paused. ‘Although, to be honest, I find it hard to figure how the pair of you have managed to keep your hands off each other.’