The Forced Bride (6 page)

would not expect it to be a marriage in the—conventional sense,’ he added awkwardly. ‘Because you’re still young for

that kind of commitment, even if you wished it.’ He paused. ‘Do you wish it’

‘No,’ Emily managed.

Not with him, she thought wildly. Never with him.

‘Then, as your husband, Raf would simply become your legal protector for the duration of the trust.’ The drawn face

smiled a little. ‘Keeping the wolves at bay, my darling.’

And who’ll keep him at bayShe thought it, but did not say it.

‘And when the trust ends’ she questioned tautly.

‘Naturally, you would both be free to go your separate ways. I have his word on that.’

Her voice was strained. ‘But this can’t be what he wants either.’

‘Perhaps not,’ her father said. ‘Let’s just say it’s his way of repaying an old debt.’ He paused. ‘Emily, I can’t force you

to marry Raf Di Salis, but I need to know that when I’m gone, you won’t be alone. For my peace of mind, I beg you to

accept his proposal. Do this for me, darling—please. I can rest easy only if I know you’re being cared for.’

The hoarse words were like nails being driven into her coffin. She said tonelessly, ‘If it’s—really what you wish…’

‘It is.’ He patted her hand. ‘Go to him, my dear. He’s waiting for you in the drawing room.’

Raf was standing by the window when she entered. He looked at her, his face expressionless.

‘Your father has told you what I wish to ask’

‘Yes.’

‘So—will you be my wife, Emilia’

‘Yes,’ she said again.

She thought he was going to come towards her and was suddenly assailed by a vivid memory of his arms holding her, his

lips caressing hers. She froze and immediately felt foolish, because he hadn’t moved at all. In fact, it was almost as if he’d

taken a step backwards, she thought in confusion.

His tone was wintry. ‘Then it is settled. You have given your word to me and to your father, which I think is more

important.’

She lifted her chin. ‘Yes.’

‘And he explained the terms of the contract between us Just nod or shake your head.’ His voice bit. ‘Spare me another

monosyllable.’

Her eyes flashed angrily, but she gave a reluctant nod.

‘You clearly expect to be obeyed,’ she said coldly. ‘I hope you don’t require to be loved and honoured too.’

‘I am no believer in miracles.’ He walked across the room to the door. His faint smile was ironic. ‘Now, shall we go to

your father and share our good news’

Remembering, Emily bit her lip. It was the marriage, she thought, that had finally sealed the impenetrable barrier between

them.

She had tried to play the minor role in his life assigned to her quietly and dutifully, but it had never been easy—had made

her tongue-tied and wary when he was around. And oddly resentful when he wasn’t.

And, although he’d adhered strictly to the terms of their arrangement, she’d always been aware of a strange tension

between them and felt nervous and on edge whenever she was obliged to be alone with him.

So—I have no intention of ever being alone with him again, she thought, staring at the bare trees outside. And very soon

now I won’t even have to think about him.

And she wouldn’t be looking back at the past now, she told herself, if Raf hadn’t forced himself back into her

consciousness like this.

She glanced down at her watch, wondering what on earth was keeping Simon all this time. Maybe the cottage wasn’t

available after all, but there would be others.

And maybe she was wrong to involve him. After all, he’d had one run in with Raf Di Salis already and could well be

targeted again, when her husband came looking for her. Perhaps it was the thought of that which was making him so

morose—and odd.

She was on her way to the door to say she’d changed her mind when he returned.

‘The booking’s all made, starting from the day after tomorrow. The caretaker in the village will be informed and have the

place ready for you.’ He gave her a sheet of paper printed with a detailed description of the cottage and how it could be

reached. ‘The nearest station is Kilrossan,’ he said. ‘Let Mrs McEwen know the time of your train and you’ll be met.’ He

paused. ‘I made the reservation in your maiden name. I hope that’s all right.’

‘Entirely appropriate,’ she said. ‘Under the circumstances.’

She was half-expecting him to offer to go with her. She would refuse, of course. Her marriage vows might be totally

meaningless, but, unlike Raf Di Salis, she intended to keep them, even for the short time that was left. And, to give Simon

his due, he seemed to accept this, even if he didn’t completely understand.

But then, she thought, I’m not sure I understand myself.

She said, ‘I’d better go home and start packing. Although I’ll have to be careful or Penny will get suspicious.’

‘Tell her what she wants to hear,’ he said. ‘Let her think you’re going off to meet your husband, but that it’s all to be a

huge surprise.’

‘Now why didn’t I think of that’ She went to him, lifting her face for his kiss. ‘Will you be all right—if Raf comes asking

questions’

‘He won’t,’ he said. ‘His pride would never stand for it.’

‘I’ll miss you. Let me know as soon as the coast’s clear and I’ll come back.’

‘And I’ll miss you too.’ His mouth was suddenly hot and passionate on hers. It was the first real sign of emotion he’d

shown that morning and Emily tried to respond with equal ardour. But it wasn’t easy when she felt so apprehensive, and

eventually she freed herself gently.

‘I’m sorry, darling. I can’t seem to think of much beyond getting away from here.’

As they walked to the door, his arm round her shoulders, she said, ‘By the way, what’s happened to the candlesticks’

‘Candlesticks’

She pointed at the fireplace. ‘The lovely silver ones that used to stand right there.’

Simon shrugged indifferently. ‘Aunt Celia probably put them away before she left. They’ll turn up.’

She looked sideways at him. ‘You sound miserable again.’

He looked past her. ‘Scotland’s a long way and two weeks can seem like for ever.’

‘They’ll soon pass,’ she said. ‘Then we’ll be together again. And for always this time.’

As her car moved down the drive she turned to wave, but there was no one there and she realised that Simon had gone

back in the house, closing the door behind him.

As if, she thought, he could not bear to see her go. Yet, instead of being pleased, she found suddenly that she was

shivering. And wondered why.

So far, so good, thought Emily as the express train ate up the miles between London and Glasgow.

Getting away from the Manor had been altogether easier than she’d expected. Penny had swallowed her ludicrous story

about meeting Raf in London and beamed at Emily’s blush, even though it was inspired by guilt rather than anticipation of

a blissful marital reunion.

And yet the housekeeper knew that Emily and Raf had never so much as shared a room when he stayed at the Manor.

Unless she thinks he pays me secret visits when the lights are out, Emily thought, grimacing inwardly.

In fact, the only time Raf had ever entered her bedroom at all had been on their wedding night. And that for the briefest

possible time.

Her father had died, quite peacefully, only a week after she’d become engaged. And the wedding had taken place just

over a month later, a quiet register office ceremony with Leonard Henshaw and his wife as the only witnesses.

Afterwards, they had flown to Italy for what was supposed to be their honeymoon.

‘It is the convention,’ Raf said simply when she tried to protest. ‘And anyway, I would like to show you my home.’ He

paused. ‘Is that—agreeable to you’

She swallowed. ‘Won’t it be very hot in Rome at this time of year’

‘There is a pool,’ he said. ‘Do you like to swim’

She had a sudden vision of the pool at High Gables and Simon splashing her, laughing in the sunlight.

She turned away. ‘I used to. Not any more.’ And thought she heard him sigh.

But she had to admit that the house just outside Rome was beautiful, if a little gloomy, with its marble floors and

old-fashioned furniture. It was older even than the Manor and larger too, with a labyrinth of passages and rooms, many of

them with ornamental ceilings and frescoed walls, and most of them in need of attention.

It also required a considerable staff to run it and, to Emily’s embarrassment, they were all lined up waiting to welcome her

in high excitement.

If they only knew, she thought bitterly, that their new Contessa is a total fraud.

And a worried fraud at that, for she seemed to have been assigned the most enormous bedroom, with the largest

canopied bed she’d ever seen, and the maids who unpacked for her were exchanging conspiratorial smiles as they

arranged her prettiest white nightdress across the embroidered coverlet.

Emily felt her throat tighten in fright. In spite of Raf’s assurances, it seemed obvious that the scene was being set for the

ritual deflowering of the latest Di Salis bride.

And her nervousness increased when she discovered that, as well as doors to a dressing room and a large bathroom,

there was also direct access to an adjoining and equally imposing room, which bore all the signs of male occupation. And

realised that, although this door had an ornate lock, there was no key to go with it.

Dinner was served much later than she was accustomed to and, while the food was delicious, she had little appetite for it

and none at all for the wine which accompanied it.

She needed, she thought, to stay very, very sober.

And, even if she wasn’t hungry, to make the meal last as long as possible.

‘You look tired,’ Raf commented, as the cheese course was being cleared.

‘A little,’ she returned cautiously. She was actually dead on her feet but she wasn’t going to admit as much.

‘It has been a long day,’ he said, confirming all her worst fears by adding, ‘I suggest you go to bed.’ He paused. ‘Can

you find your way back to your room’

‘Of course,’ she said too quickly, in case he offered to escort her.

‘If you get lost, call out and eager rescuers will immediately appear.’ He smiled at her. ‘You are an object of fascination

for the entire household, you understand.’

‘Yes,’ she returned tautly. ‘I—gathered that.’

Raf was leaning back in his chair, his lean fingers playing with the stem of his wineglass.

‘You looked very lovely today,mia cara ,’ he said quietly. ‘Your dress was charming.’

‘It—it wasn’t new. I wore it when Daddy took me to Ascot one time.’ She remembered with a pang how joyously she’d

chosen the slender cream silk shift just skimming her knees.

She added stiffly, ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

‘If you had worn it a hundred times, you would have looked no less beautiful.’

The conversation was taking altogether too personal a turn, she decided, and pushed back her chair, pretending to yawn.

‘I think maybe you’re right and I should call it a day.’

He rose too. ‘Then I wish you goodnight.’

She murmured something in reply and went, trying not to hurry too obviously. At least he hadn’t attempted to kiss her,

she thought, as she went up the wide sweep of staircase. Nor was he following her.

But she breathed more easily when she reached her room and, having stumblingly dismissed the maid who was waiting to

assist her, showered and cleaned her teeth in the palatial bathroom, then put on the nightdress that Penny must have

substituted for the satin pyjamas she’d intended to bring and climbed up into that monster of a bed.

It was a very comfortable monster, she discovered, and the linen was scented with rose-water. But she couldn’t relax.

She kept watching the communicating door, asking herself what she would do if it opened, and dreading the moment

when she might be called on to make a decision.

But, just when she’d resolved it was safe enough to put out the lamp and get some sleep, she heard a faint noise and

looked up to see Raf standing there in the open doorway. He was barefoot, his jacket and tie discarded and his shirt

half-unbuttoned, revealing the strong column of his throat and the dark smooth skin of his chest.

For what seemed an eternity they stared at each other. Emily sat transfixed, her heart thudding erratically, her mouth

suddenly dry, aware that one lacy strap had slipped down from her shoulder, but not daring to adjust it. Just waiting for

him to say something—do something.

But when he moved, it was simply to put out a hand and steady himself against the doorframe. For a terrible moment she

thought he was drunk and tensed involuntarily. However, when he spoke his voice was crisp and clear, without slurring.

‘Emilia, my household has—expectations about tonight and its usual significance, which may have caused you concern.

‘I wish to say that you have no need to fear that I will break my word to you. Today’s ceremony changed nothing and

our marriage is still a business arrangement which can—will remain in name only, as you wish. Then, when you are twenty

one, you will be free to live your own life and—find happiness.’

He made her a slight bow, then he was gone, closing the door firmly behind him.

For a long time, Emily recalled, she’d sat quite still, gazing unseeingly into space, aware only of the still-flurried race of her

heart. And when, eventually, she’d reached for the lamp switch, she’d discovered that her hand was shaking

uncontrollably.

Just as it was trembling again now, at this moment, as she picked up the carton of coffee in front of her and drank.

Why am I doing this to myself she asked with a kind of desperation. Remembering all this—stuff. It must be the most