The Pregnant Bride (16 page)

Some time around three in the morning, she was awoken by a thin cry coming from Molly’s room. The poor little thing was probably dreaming, she thought, hurrying next door to comfort her.

But Molly was wide-awake and standing on the floor. “I went wee-wee in the bed,” she wailed, shrinking away when Jenna tried to pick her up. “I’m all wet.”

“Oh, darling, don’t cry. It’s okay! We’ll get you cleaned up and dry in no time.” Gently, she took the child’s hand and led her to the bathroom across the hall. “Let me sponge you off, then we’ll put on clean pajamas.”

“But my bed’s wet as well.”

“Never mind about that old bed. I’ll take care of it in the morning, and you can sleep with me for the rest of the night.”

She’d hoped they wouldn’t disturb Edmund but he must have been sleeping as poorly as she because he came staggering out of his room just as she was carrying Molly to hers. “What’s going on? Is Molly sick?”

“No,” she said. “Just a little nighttime accident, that’s all.”

“She wet the bed?” He sounded amazed; insulted even.

“It happens,” Jenna told him. “It’s no big deal.”

“I guess not.” But he wasn’t convinced, as his next question proved. “Isn’t she a bit old to be doing that, though?”

“No,” she said again and gave him a level look. “Nor do I think we need to belabor the subject now. She’s embarrassed enough as it is.”

“So where are you taking her?” he said, when he saw that she wasn’t going back to Molly’s room.

“To sleep with me.”

“There’s no need for that. Give her to me. She can spend the rest of the night in our bed. God knows, there’s enough room in it tonight.”

But Molly, who’d been drooping sleepily on Jenna’s shoulder, buried her face more tightly against her neck. “No,” she mumbled. “I don’t want to be with Daddy.”

He deserved it, and more. Yet the desolation on his face spurred Jenna to dangerous pity. He
did
love his daughter, she knew. The trouble was, he couldn’t bear to share her with others who also loved her.

“Give her to me, Jenna,” he repeated, his voice raw with hurt.

“No,” she said softly. “Not this time, Edmund. I won’t let you upset her any more than she already is. Good night.”

He was still standing where she’d left him when she turned into her own room. His hands hung helplessly at his sides, his hair was all rumpled from sleep, and he wore a look of stunned disbelief. Not only had his daughter rejected him, his wife had dared to defy him, too. And he obviously hadn’t the foggiest idea why they’d resort to such extreme measures when, in his view, all he was trying to do was be a good father.

After a strained breakfast the next morning, Edmund put Molly through her paces in the pool while Jenna took a shower. The light on the answering machine was blinking when she came out of the bathroom, and a man identifying himself as Jason Phillips had left a message.

“I’ve managed to get us a court hearing for the end of the week, which doesn’t leave us much time to fine-tune our strategy, Edmund,” he said, “so we need to get together, this morning if possible, to go over the final details. I want your wife here, too, because she’s crucial to the whole undertaking, and since you’ve got the child staying with you, I’d like to talk to her as well. Might as well line up as much ammunition as we can, so get back to me, and we’ll set up an appointment.”

Although he didn’t say so, it was clear enough that Mr. Phillips was a lawyer. And equally clear that, without ever mentioning it to her, Edmund had already set in motion the legal process by which he hoped to win custody of Molly, even to the point of manipulating events so that she was in town just when it would help him the most.

“What did you think I was going to do?” he asked scornfully, when she challenged him on Mr. Phillips’ role in the whole messy affair. “Hire a plumber?”

“I’d hoped you’d be more open about what you were up to. Silly me, right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t go making a big deal about nothing, for crying out loud! I was obeying doctor’s orders, that’s all, and saw no point in involving you when you already had enough on your mind with the baby.”

“How convenient!”

“If you were that anxious to know what was going on, all you had to do was ask. Not, I might add, that I feel under any obligation to give you an accounting of every minute of my working day.”

“I did ask,” she reminded him. “All those times I couldn’t reach you, when you had your phone turned off—those special meetings you were so vague about—you were consulting with your lawyer, weren’t you?”

“Yes. And I’ll be consulting him again today. And so will you.”

“No,” she said. “I absolutely will not! You’re on your own, Edmund, and you can glower until you turn blue in the face, but I’m not going to change my mind.
You
might not have any conscience, but I like to be able to look myself in the mirror and not cringe at what I see. And I will not be party to going behind Adrienne’s back. Regardless of what you think of her as a mother, or of her choice of husband, she deserves better than to be ambushed like this.”

“What’s gotten into you, Jenna?” he roared, his face flushing with anger. “To hear you talk, anyone would think you’d found yourself married to a kingpin of the underworld bent on unspeakable crime. I’m going after what’s mine. Why is that so terrible?”

“Oh, Edmund!” She buried her face in her hands, despair and frustration overwhelming her. “What’s terrible is that you even have to ask! You can’t
own
people!”

“I don’t mean it like that. Stop twisting my words.”

“Yes, you do mean it like that,” she said hopelessly. “You just don’t understand—”

“No, I don’t,” he said, his voice tight with fury. “So explain it to me. After everything I’ve heard you say about deadbeat dads who walk away from their kids and never look back, tell me why you refuse to support your own husband when all I’m doing is trying my best to take care of my daughter.”

“You’re going about it the wrong way. She’s not a corporate asset and this isn’t—or shouldn’t be—a hostile takeover. But I’m afraid that’s what it’s turned into, and I refuse to have any part of it.”

They had been lovers and she thought they’d been friends, but at that moment, as they stood facing each other, they were nothing but adversaries, unalterably opposed. One of them had to back down. But he would not, and she could not.

And so the silence spun out between them, each passing second filled with a rancor and resentment that sounded a death knell to any hope she’d had that their marriage would turn into something lasting or sublime.

At last, he said heavily, “Fine. I’ll do it without you.”

Bleakly, she watched as, his face set in lines of misery, he reached for the phone and arranged the requested appointment. Helpless to stop the process he’d begun, she stood by as he loaded Molly into the car. “Don’t hold lunch for us,” was all he said by way of goodbye. “I’m taking her shopping this afternoon and don’t know when we’ll be back.”

The day dragged by. Too restless to settle, Jenna cleaned the house from one end to the other, all the while praying that Edmund would call to say he’d had a change of heart. When two o’clock came and went with still no word, she gave up waiting for miracles and went outside to do some gardening.

She was deadheading geraniums in the flower bed next to the front door when a vehicle turned into the driveway. It was not Edmund who rolled to a stop in front of the garage doors, but Bud behind the wheel of his pickup, with Adrienne seated next to him.

“We’ve come to take Molly home,” she said, climbing down from the cab with obvious difficulty. “I don’t know what Edmund’s up to and I’m not waiting any longer to find out. I want my daughter. Now.”

“I’m afraid,” Jenna said, hating to find herself in the middle of the mess for all that she’d done her best to stay out of it, “she’s out with her father.”

“Out where?”

She couldn’t meet the other woman’s forthright gaze. “They went…shopping.”

“Fine. We’ll wait. And while we do, perhaps you’d be good enough to get her stuff together.”

“I…”

“You have a problem doing that, Jenna?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good. We’ll be waiting in the truck.”

Noticing the pinched look about Adrienne’s mouth, and the way she squinted with pain as she massaged the small of her back, Jenna gestured toward the house. “At least come in and make yourselves comfortable while I pack her suitcase.”

She tried to sound casual, but Adrienne wasn’t fooled for a minute. “We both know this isn’t a social call, Jenna, so never mind being the perfect hostess. You don’t want us in your home any more than I want my daughter in it.”

“Easy, hon. No point in taking it out on Jenna,” Bud said, putting a restraining hand on her arm, then turned to Jenna apologetically. “She’s not feeling too swift,” he explained. “Back’s still troubling her some.”

“I understand,” Jenna said, feeling dreadfully sorry for the woman. “Adrienne, if you’re not comfortable about coming into the house, at least have a seat in the back garden. You’ll cook sitting in the truck in this weather.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. I was about to take a break anyway, and make some iced tea. I wish you’d both join me.”

Adrienne bit her lip. “Well, since you’re so determined to be gracious, do you happen to have any aspirin? My back really is killing me. Our old truck’s no Cadillac, I’m afraid.”

Oh, my dear!
Jenna thought, shepherding them both through the side gate and into the shade of the umbrella table on the patio, before going inside to make the tea,
it’s going to take a lot more than a couple of aspirin to ease the pain you’re about to have inflicted on you!

When she came back out with glasses, a frosty pitcher of tea, and a bottle of aspirin, she found Adrienne lying back in a chaise, and Bud hovering attentively at her side. “This is real nice of you, Mrs. Delaney,” he said. “The doc gave Adrienne some pills, but she’s been in such a state ever since last night’s phone call that she clean forgot to bring ’em with her when we set out this morning.”

“Yes,” Adrienne put in. “I don’t think either of us got a wink of sleep. But Bud’s right—I shouldn’t take it out on you. Molly told me you’ve been wonderful with her, and she’s so excited about the new baby, she can hardly wait for him to be born. We’ve been working on a gift for him—nothing much, just pasta shells glued to an old picture frame, but she’s thrilled to bits with it.”

Jenna’s throat closed with shame and a haze of embarrassing tears filmed her eyes. To be faced with this woman’s generosity of spirit toward her ex-husband’s new family, and know that he was bent only on misplaced vengeance, grieved her beyond words.

Fortunately, she was spared having to reply by Edmund and Molly’s return. The child gave a squeal of delight when she saw her mother and stepfather and letting go of her balloon, flung herself at them.

Excusing herself, Jenna muttered something about collecting the trowel she’d left in the front flower bed, but once through the side gate she kept going, up the drive and out to where a path cut down to the beach. Not only did she need time in which to compose herself, she had no wish to be part of the scene about to unfold. What Edmund was doing was wrong, but he was still her husband and she would not willingly condemn him in front of others.

The truck was gone when she came back an hour later, and so was Molly. Only Edmund remained, and he was primed for battle. “I’m surprised you’ve got the guts to show your face around here after the stunt you just pulled,” he greeted her.

“What have I done or said now to displease you?” she asked wearily. “Allowed Adrienne and Bud to set foot on
your
property? Let them sit in
your
chairs, drink from
your
glasses?”

“How about blatantly taking their side against mine, even to the point of having Molly’s bag packed and ready to go, the minute I brought her home? Tell me, sweet pea, what other nasty little surprises are you waiting to spring on me when I’m least expecting them?”

H
OW
well she’d perfected the art of injured innocence! Big gray eyes glistening, sweet mouth quivering slightly, she hovered in the doorway and looked at him as if he’d gone mad.

“I’m not the one hatching plots, Edmund,” she said, her voice so full of sorrowful regret that he was glad she hadn’t gone with him to speak to Jason Phillips. Even a lawyer as experienced as he would have been hard-pressed to see past the theatrics. As for how a judge might be taken in…!

“Can the performance, Jenna!” he rapped out. “This is me, remember? The man you married under false pretenses.”

“If I did,” she said, twisting her wedding ring agitatedly, “the falsehood was all yours. You misrepresented the true state of affairs with Adrienne.”

“And you, being so much wiser than the rest of us poor mortals, took it upon yourself to rectify my mistake by betraying me, is that it?”

“No. I have not once betrayed you. As for mistakes, they have been all mine.”

“Oh, gee,” he sneered, resentment overwhelming him to the point that it practically seeped out of his pores, “you actually admit to being fallible? I’d never have guessed.”

“I should have listened to my instincts, and not to you. Instead, I followed my heart.”

He let out a bark of laughter. “What heart? The one which prompted you to race to the phone as soon as my back was turned, and tell Adrienne to get down here quick so that she could put a stop to what was taking place?”

“Is that what she told you?”

“She didn’t mince words stating the obvious. She had too many other things to get off her chest. I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that she plans to fight me every inch of the way.”

“I can’t believe that comes as any surprise to you, Edmund. What did you think she’d do? Hand over Molly without a word? She’s a
mother,
for pity’s sake, not a hired nanny who looked after your child until it was convenient for you to take over the job!” She cupped her hands over her swollen belly possessively. “I can understand that, even if you can’t!”

“No doubt,” he said bitterly, “you’ll make an excellent witness for the defense.”

She flinched, as if he’d hit her. And damn her, but he felt the pain as if it had been directed at him. “I was of the impression that a wife can’t be forced to testify against her husband.”

“Not even if she’s convinced he’s an unmitigated bastard?”

He heard her sudden intake of breath, saw the rush of tears in her eyes, and steeled himself to resist both. “I think you’re a fine man in every other respect, Edmund. From the day we met, I’ve admired you. These months we’ve been married have been a gift I’d never expected, and one I’d hoped would prove durable enough to last a lifetime.”

She was trying hard, but the tears got the better of her and her voice broke. “God help me, I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“Then I shudder to think how you’d behave if you hated me!”

She crumpled against the door frame, and wiped the back of her hand over her face. “This isn’t about you and me,” she sobbed. “It’s about a mother’s right to her child, and a little girl’s right to live where she’s happiest.”

If he’d been in his right mind, he’d have considered before he spoke again. But by the time that thought occurred, it was too late. “You make me very nervous, Jenna. The way you’re talking, and the way you’ve acted lately leads me to think I should take steps to make sure I don’t wind up losing
both
my children. Hell, I’m already paying astronomical legal fees, so I might as well get two for the price of one, wouldn’t you say?”

The way the blood drained out of her face scared the living daylights out of him. “I didn’t mean that,” he said, reaching for her. “So help me, Jenna, that wasn’t what I meant to say!”

She shrank away from him as if his touch were poison—and who could blame her? “But the thought was there. It had to be.”

“No. You’re my wife.”

“So was Adrienne, once.”

“You’re nothing like her. I…” He spread his hands helplessly, refusing to say aloud the words that had sprung to mind.
I care about you more than I ever cared about her!
Refusing even to admit them to himself. Men did and said crazy things sometimes. Hell, he was living proof of that! And things were already complicated enough.

But she was wilting as if all the life had been sapped out of her; as if the will to go on, to persevere despite their differences, had run its course. Something vital and lovely was withering inside her—not the baby, but something intangible that he suddenly realized was too precious and rare to be allowed to slip away without a fight. He was losing her as surely as if she were dying and suddenly he was willing to go to any lengths to save her.

“I love you,” he said, the words seeming to tear loose from every artery and ligament in his body. Love hadn’t been part of the plan; he had not seen it coming and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“If you love me,” she said, “then stop this insane vendetta against Adrienne. Be satisfied with what you’ve got.”

Any length but that!
“Don’t,” he begged. “Sweetheart, don’t ask me to trade one thing for another.”

“All right,” she said dully. “I won’t.”

Slowly, she straightened to her full height and smoothed the thin fabric of her maternity dress over her belly. When she turned to leave, he caught a brief glimpse of her in profile and it was like seeing her for the first time—the long, elegant neck, the graceful sweep of her hair, the sweet curve of her breasts, her proud, erect posture.

He had always thought her beautiful but pregnancy had endowed her with a luminescence that lent another dimension to her loveliness. It clutched at his gut, at his heart, and the impact staggered him.

“Where are you going?” he asked her.

“To make dinner.”

“Let me. It’s been one hell of a day and you look worn-out.”

She signified agreement with a tilt of her shoulder so slight it was barely there at all.

That night, he tried every way he knew how to show her that she could trust him. She lay in his arms and let him kiss her, caress her, touch her all over with his hands and his mouth and his tongue. When he entered her, she accepted him; even held him as the passion escalated to a fine torture before smashing him to pieces and rendering him weak as a child. Even stroked his hair as he lay, spent, beside her.

The next day when he came home from work, she was gone.

For more than two weeks, she traveled, driving inland, discovering places which previously had been nothing but names on the map, and never staying more than one night in the same spot: north through Lillooet, then over to the old gold rush trail to Hundred Mile House, with a side trip east to Barkerville, where early signs of winter left the mornings sharp with frost. From there, north and west again on the Yellowhead Highway through Vanderhoof and past the Seven Sisters Peaks until she reached Prince Rupert on the cold and rainy north coast.

Finally, toward the end of a stormy day in the middle of October, she ended up back where everything had started, at The Inn on the west coast of Vancouver Island. She checked in, unpacked her bags, and although she wasn’t particularly hungry, went down for dinner because she knew she was doing neither herself nor her baby any favors by missing meals.

Candlelight illuminated the dining room, enhanced by the logs blazing in the hearth. Rain lashed at the night-dark windows. Crystal clinked against crystal, waiters poured wine and obliged guests by taking photographs. And she, again, was alone. More alone than she’d ever been in her life.

“Will there be just one for dinner, madam?” the maître d’inquired, politely ignoring the fact that she was noticeably pregnant.

It was pure bad luck that he showed her to the same table she’d occupied the first time she’d been there, thereby stirring up the most wrenching sense of déjà vu. And equally unfortunate that at Edmund’s old table sat a honeymoon couple so besotted with each other’s company that they couldn’t take their eyes off each other.

She had thought putting some distance between her and Edmund would perhaps give her a different perspective, one that would allow them to find some middle ground from which to rebuild their marriage. But she’d covered hundreds of miles since the morning she’d left him with nothing but a note to explain her decision, and the only conclusion she’d reached was that there
was
no middle ground. They were unalterably opposed.

No use telling herself that he wasn’t deliberately trying to be evil or destructive. She knew that, as far as Molly was concerned, he honestly believed that what he was doing was right. But even if Jenna could have ignored the dictates of her own conscience which told her he was wrong, she could never forget his threat to take her own baby away from her.

That he’d spoken the words in anger, and tried to atone for them by telling her he loved her—words she’d longed to hear!—and by making love to her with an unguarded passion he’d never shown before, did nothing to alter the fact that he’d planted a fear so deep and powerful that it haunted her dreams and plagued her every waking minute.

Pushing aside the salad she’d ordered, she faced up to what she’d known for days: the marriage was over and the decent thing was to tell him so. In the note she’d left for him, she’d asked that he not try to find her, that he give her time to sort out her feelings, and he’d honored her request. In all fairness, he now had the right to know she was not coming back to him.

She phoned him the minute she got back to her room. He answered on the second ring and the sound of his voice did terrible damage to her resolve; so terrible that she could not at first bring herself to speak to him.

“Jenna?” he said, when the silence had lasted too long. “Sweetheart, is that you?”

“Yes,” she finally croaked past the aching lump in her throat.

“
Thank God!
Honey, how are you and when are you coming home?”

“I’m not,” she managed through the tears choking her. “That’s why I’m calling, Edmund—to tell you that I won’t be coming back.”

“Not ever?” She heard the incredulity in his tone, could almost see the disbelief on his face. “Honey, you don’t mean that. We can work this out. I’ve—”

“No,” she said. “I’m afraid we can’t. And the reason I’m calling you now is to tell you I intend filing for divorce, because I don’t want you to hear it first from a lawyer.”

“You’re quite sure that’s what you want, are you?”

Sure?
No! How could any woman be sure that ending a relationship to the man she loved despite everything was what she really wanted? “I’m resigned to the inevitable,” she said. “We’ve reached an impasse and I see no way for us to get past it. I’m afraid divorce is the only option.”

“Fine. Then you can tell me so to my face. We’re talking about ending a marriage, Jenna, not canceling a magazine subscription. A phone call just won’t cut it.”

She
couldn’t
see him again, not yet! Not until her heart had mended a little. “I’m afraid it will have to,” she said, and quickly, before she fell victim to his further persuasion, she broke the connection, then contacted the front desk and asked not to have any calls put through to her room.

It was only a little after seven o’clock, too early to think about going to bed even if she could have slept. As often happened in the evening, the baby was particularly active. Usually, it made her smile but tonight it merely reminded her that this would be yet another child growing up without a father.

Hugging her elbows, she paced to the window. Floodlights at the base of the building showed the trees bending before the onslaught of wind and rain, and great curtains of spray crashing over the rocks below. She was still standing there, mesmerized by the violence of the scene, when one of the hotel employees showed up at her door.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but there’s some concern that we might lose power if this storm keeps going, so I’ve brought you candles and extra wood. I’ll be happy to start a fire, if you like, and suggest that if you’re thinking of ordering anything from room service, you do so now.”

“Perhaps I will,” she said, as a particularly vicious blast of wind shook the walls. “Some tea, perhaps.”

“I’ll have it sent up right away, ma’am. And the fire?”

“Yes,” she said. “A fire would be nice.”

“And a lot more cheerful than sitting in the dark, should that happen. At least you’ll be warm.”

In body, maybe. But neither a roaring fire nor a pot of hot tea could chase away the chill in her heart—nothing except the feel of Edmund’s arms around her and that, sadly, was too risky a venture even to consider. From now on, memories of the way he’d once held her would have to suffice.

The storm finally wore itself out about an hour later and by nine was reduced to occasional gusts and the intermittent spatter of rain on the windows. Although the fire was still burning brightly, the tea she’d ordered had long since gone cold and Jenna was on the point of drawing a hot bath when another knock came at the door.

She opened it expecting to find someone from room service come to remove the tray, and instead came face-to-face with Edmund. Before she could draw breath, let alone speak, he stepped into the room, kicked the door closed behind him, swept her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.

When she most needed her wits about her, her mind simply took a leave of absence so that nothing stood between his seduction and her all too susceptible senses. She melted against him, helplessly enmeshed in pent-up longing.

The scent of him filled her, windswept cedar and salty sea air, and the faint residue of soap. The taste of him, coffee and peppermint, intoxicated her. Without let, her hand drifted over him, defining the texture of his heavy duffle jacket, his hair, the faint stubble of new beard on his cold cheek.

“So,” he said, when at last he lifted his mouth from hers and subjected her to a thorough inspection from his too-beautiful, too blue eyes, “you still want that divorce?”