I Know the Truth

by M A Comley

  “That’s right. You’ll find out the damage I can cause if you persist on seeing him. You have forty-eight hours to call the wedding off, you hear me?”

  “And if I don’t?”

  He hitched up a shoulder and marched past her. “Wait and see.”

  Lucy’s feet froze to the spot. Her heart rate rose and fell like a wave in a turbulent storm. My God, did he just threaten me? What did he do to the other girls? I need to know, but what if Matthew is unaware of how his brother reacted to them? Bloody hell, what do I do for the best? Dump Matthew for fear of what Jake will do to me if I don’t?

  Matthew appeared in the doorway of the drawing room. “Hey, you, did you get lost?”

  She forced a smile in place to disguise how upset she was. “I think I took the wrong turn back there. Jake was kind enough to point me in the right direction.”

  “Good old Jake, never one to leave a damsel in distress.”

  He held out his elbow for her to slip her arm through the gap, and they rejoined the group. The evening progressed slowly, too slowly for Lucy’s liking. Thankfully, Jake excused himself not long after the incident in the hallway. Matthew said goodnight to his parents around eleven and got the driver to drop them back to his gatehouse. Lucy’s gaze darted everywhere. She had a fascination for tiny places like this that had a history of their own to speak about. Except this was unlike any other gatehouse she’d had the pleasure of visiting in the past. The interior was ultra-modern, to the point of her wondering if the building’s integrity hadn’t been compromised by the alterations.

  “Wow, well, this is different.”

  “I’m sensing it’s not what you expected, Lucy.”

  “Hardly. Who did this? Not you, surely?”

  He visibly cringed. “Umm…are you going to hate me if I say yes?”

  “No, but I might demand to know what you were thinking when you spoilt the look of such a beautiful building. Damn, did I say that out loud? I didn’t mean to. You have every right to change the interior, it’s just that…”

  “You detest it.” He laughed and gathered her in his arms.

  “Damn, are you offended?”

  “I would be if this was going to be our home in the future. It’s not, by the way.”

  “Phew. The last thing I want to do is upset anyone else this evening.”

  He pushed her gently away from him. “Who have you upset? Not mother, that’s just her way. You’ll get used to her.”

  “I thought I had, sorry, maybe I was wrong. When did you alter the interior?”

  “Around five years ago, under the guidance of an interior designer an ex put me in touch with. I hated it too at first, now I’m used to it. It grows on you. Don’t feel bad for speaking your mind, it’s one of the things I admire most about you.”

  “Good, because that’s me. I wouldn’t want to change in the future either.”

  “And I wouldn’t want you to change at all. You seemed shocked by my proposal tonight.”

  “Very shocked. I know we’ve both told each other how much we’re in love, but to do that to me in front of your parents, who I’d only just met…”

  “I know. I’m always one to jump in and do things first and think of the consequences later.”

  She tilted her head. “Does that mean you’re likely to regret your actions?”

  “No. Bloody hell, I’m cocking this up.”

  His mouth covered hers in a demanding kiss that led them into the bedroom. Another room that took her breath away, but that was nothing compared to what happened between the sheets that evening.

  10

  Five years ago

  “No, please, don’t do it. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  His fist struck her jaw, and she staggered against the wall in the lounge. She levered herself away from the new wallpaper and saw the blood outlining the embossed pattern. That pissed her off more than him striking her for some reason.

  She ran from the room, didn’t have a clue what to do next. All she knew was that she had to make plans to get away from him, or risk being six feet under within a few months. The beatings had become more frequent in recent weeks. If someone riled him at work, he suppressed his anger until he laid eyes on her and then let rip. She always witnessed the satisfied grin covering his face once he’d unleashed what was eating away at his soul. Invariably, she did nothing wrong. She cared for him as a wife should, cooked, washed, ironed, cleaned, all this on top of working extremely long hours herself. While he, well, his chores consisted of working full time, putting out the bin once a week and maintaining both the cars, his better than hers. Generally, he put a fiver’s worth of petrol in the tank to see her through the week. Some weeks, if she had to make an extra trip to the supermarket to top up the cupboards, she barely had enough in the tank to see her through.

  He didn’t allow her money of her own. All her wages went into a joint bank account only he had access to. He put sixty pounds on the kitchen table every week. She had needed to learn how to be frugal from the outset really. No luxury items ever found their way into her basket. She should’ve left him as soon as she noticed the decline in the marriage. The controlling influence he had over her. Her mother had always instilled in her that men knew best and she encouraged her to take on board their advice where finances were concerned. It got her wondering if her own parents’ marriage had been similar. She doubted it. Her father adored her mother, worshipped the ground she walked on and treated her like a lady. Or was that for her benefit? What truly happened behind closed doors? No one really knew, did they?

  She heard him thumping up the stairs. Her eyes tightly shut, she pulled her knees up to her chin and leaned against the headboard. She was aware the beating wouldn’t end until he saw fit. Without saying a word, he laid into her again. Blood spattered the pretty pink wallpaper behind the bed. She grunted and groaned with every punch. Maybe she should stop making the noises, perhaps they were turning the warped bastard on. She had to pretend he’d knocked her unconscious for him to back off. She froze in position, listened to him come around the other side of the bed. He roughly laid his hands on her, checking several pulse points to make sure she was still alive, and then walked out of the room.

  As soon as the coast was clear, she sat upright and stared at her reflection in the mirror. A weak, miserable excuse of a woman stared back at her. Bloodied and bruised, beaten inside and out by a man who supposedly loved her. How in God’s name did I allow this to happen? How did it escalate to this?

  Her nights ended up being filled with terror, either in her sleep or while she stared up at the ceiling for hours, listening to him snoring, teetering on the edge of the bed. She’d often considered grabbing her pillow and suffocating him, however, in reality, she knew she didn’t have the bloody strength left in her frail body to combat him if he cottoned on to what she was trying to do.

  Her life as she knew it was over. In truth, it had been for years…

  11

  Lucy woke up in a sweat, cradled in Matthew’s arms. He was propped up on an elbow, gazing down at her, his eyes overflowing with love.

  She stretched, yawned and smiled. “Good morning. Have you been awake long?”

  He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her until she used up all the breath in her lungs. He pulled away and ran his tongue over his lips, tasting her. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Sort of, strange bed and all that. Did you?”

  He traced his finger over her cheek. “Off and on. You had several nightmares which scared the life out of me.”

  She sat up and pulled the quilt around her naked body. “I did. In what way did I scare you?” Shit! Did I try to attack him, or worse still, try to kill him?

  “You scared me by what you said. Has something gone on in your past, darling? Have you been traumatised in some way?”

  Her gaze drifted off to stare at the black chest of drawers against the wall close to the door. “No. Why, what did I say?”

  “A mixture of things
. Some of them hard to decipher, but you were clearly distressed.”

  “It’s been a harrowing week, what with the accident and Shirley’s murder. I suppose it’s only natural I should react and for it to affect my sleep.”

  He gathered her in his arms and placed her head on his chest. “Of course. You’d tell me if there was anything else, wouldn’t you?”

  “I promise. I’m so happy with you, truly elated for the first time in my life. Why would I do anything to harm that?”

  “You couldn’t. However, I want you to know that if you ever need anything, I’m here for you. I’ll always be by your side, from this day forward until the day we die.”

  She wiped away the unexpected stray tear that slipped down her cheek. “I know, ditto, Matthew. We have a powerful love that others might try to destroy. We won’t allow that to happen, will we?”

  He raised her head to make her look at him. “Did you have someone in mind?”

  “No, not really. It was a figure of speech, that’s all.” She’d meant his brother, Jake, and was adamant she would raise the subject one day. But not yet, not until she was sure of Matthew. After all, they barely knew each other really, and yet here they were, engaged to be married.

  “Come on, I’ll cook you my speciality for breakfast.” He eased her aside and shot out of bed.

  Her gaze didn’t wander. It remained on his face while he pulled on a pair of jogging pants.

  “What’s on the menu?”

  “You’ll see. The en suite is in there, and you’ll find my dressing gown behind the door.” He left the room.

  She stared at the ceiling, smiling, and wondered how, and if, she deserved the luck in love she was having at the moment. He truly was the most special man, who clearly loved her deeply. Everything was going too well, that was what was niggling her. Nothing was ever this perfect in life, she’d more than recognised that over the years.

  Pots clattered in the kitchen, forcing her to get out of bed and get a wriggle on. She scrutinised her face in the bathroom mirror and groaned. “Bloody hell, how could he love someone who looks like Frankenstein’s bride first thing in the morning?”

  She lathered up the soap in her hands and scrubbed at her face, regretting the fact she hadn’t brought an overnight bag with her. Normally, she avoided using soap on her face, except in emergencies, which this was.

  “It’s ready,” Matthew shouted, five minutes or so later.

  Lucy tied the silky dressing gown, seeped in his aftershave, around her waist and stepped into the kitchen to find a pile of American-style pancakes, bacon and lashings of maple syrup poured over the top.

  “What the…you made all this?”

  He raised his hands, expelled a breath on his fingertips and rubbed them against his smooth chest. “I did. I’m a dab hand in the kitchen, I’ll have you know. When the mood takes me, that is.”

  “Wow! To say I’m impressed would be an understatement. I hope it tastes as good as it looks.” She winked.

  He gestured for her to take a seat at the marble-topped island. “There’s only one way to find out. Sit and enjoy, lovely lady. Coffee?”

  “Now you’re spoiling me. It’s been ages since I had a fresh pot of coffee in the morning. Mum and Dad always had a pot on the go when they were alive,” she added quickly, shielding off any questions he might have had.

  “You must miss them?”

  Her gaze drifted to the pancakes he was piling on a plate. “I do, every day. It’s going to be sad walking down the aisle without them being there, or without Father on my arm to give me away.”

  “I wish we’d met sooner.” He passed her the plate. “Dig in.”

  “I do, too. It would’ve solved so many problems.” She cringed, her mouth running away with her. She’d need to be conscious of that in the future, if she was going to successfully conceal her past from him.

  He tilted his head. “Meaning?”

  “Oh nothing, just talking crap as usual. I’m deliriously happy and I think it’s addled my brain. I’ve never had a man cook breakfast for me.”

  “About that…I was wondering why you never talk about your past.”

  She shrugged. “I could ask you the same thing. I’ve never had regrets in this life. I prefer to live in the present. I suspect you’re the same, right?”

  “You’re correct, and that’s why I think we’re the perfect match. I can’t wait to have you with me permanently, as my wife. The truth is, I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without having you in my life. I hope you feel the same way I do?”

  She reached across the island and covered his hand with hers. “Of course I do. I can’t describe how deep my love is for you. Sometimes I have to rein my emotions in, otherwise they’d overwhelm me. I love you so much, you make me feel complete, as if all these years I’ve felt a part of me was missing. Does that even make sense?”

  “It’s incredible. I feel exactly the same way; you put it perfectly.” He leaned across and kissed her.

  “I need to eat this before it gets cold. Tell me, how did you know pancakes were my favourite breakfast ever?”

  “Call it a lucky guess. I’m so pleased you stayed last night. Waking up with you beside me, well, it tops everything I’ve ever experienced in this life.”

  “You’re such a romantic. I’m lucky to have you.”

  “I’m the fortunate one. That first night you blew me away with your beauty and you continue to do that, every single day I’m with you.”

  Her heart pounded rhythmically as if it were fit to burst. They chatted generally over breakfast. Lucy leaned back in her stool, the metal support digging into her back, and patted her stomach. “I don’t think I’ll be eating another thing all day.”

  “Get away with you. I bet you do. Do you have any plans for the day?”

  “No, not really, although I should visit Keith later, to offer my condolences.”

  “I could come with you, if that’s what you want?”

  “I’d like that. Now, what did you have in mind for the rest of the day?” She grinned, mucky thoughts running through her head.

  He pointed a finger at her. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I was thinking I’d give you a guided tour of the property.”

  “Umm…you’re forgetting one thing.”

  His brow furrowed. “I am?”

  “I don’t have a change of clothes with me.”

  He dropped a clenched fist on the counter. “You’re right, silly me. Want me to drop by your place and pick up some clothes for you? Either that or I can sort out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that’ll probably fit you.”

  “Sounds adorable. I still can’t go around the estate wearing high-heeled sandals, though.”

  “I’ve probably got some flip-flops or deck shoes that will do.”

  “You’ve thought of everything. I’d love a guided tour.”

  “Great stuff, I’m looking forward to showing it off to you. One day, all this will be ours.”

  “What? Are you kidding me?”

  He chuckled. “That’s right. I’m the heir to Fledgling Hall as I’m older than Jake.”

  “Wow, I had no idea. Where will we live until then?”

  “Not here, that’s for sure, not after your reaction last night.”

  She covered her eyes, ashamed. “I’m sorry, me and my big mouth. I wouldn’t mind. We could make a few adjustments. It has a cosy feel to it, sort of.”

  “I sense a ‘must try harder’ comment coming my way.” He laughed, which set Lucy off.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have voiced my opinions openly last night. I didn’t mean to sound disparaging of your efforts.”

  “You weren’t, at least, I didn’t read it that way. You’re entitled to your point of view. I never want to suppress that in the future, you hear me?”

  “Does that go for the wedding plans, too?”

  “Of course. What makes you say that…? No, wait, yes, Mother can be dominating at times. You’ll need to speak up
if there’s an element you find you’re uncomfortable with. Promise me?”

  “All right. The last thing I want to do is step on your mother’s toes, love.”

  “You won’t. I’ll have a word with her, tell her to back off, if that’s what you want.”

  “No, don’t do that. We’ll see how things progress first and seek changes if we need to, how’s that?”

  “Sounds as perfect as you are.”

  “Get away with you. Right, can I jump in the shower?”

  “We could always have one together.”

  She rolled her eyes, slipped off the stool and kissed his cheek. “Easy, tiger, we have plenty of time ahead of us for those sorts of shenanigans.”

  “Spoilsport! There’s a spare towel in the bathroom cupboard, take your pick.”

  Half an hour later she was in the bedroom, admiring her ensemble in the full-length mirror. Matthew had managed to source a royal blue T-shirt and a pair of white shorts which ended just past her knees. He also managed to locate a pair of yellow flip-flops at the bottom of his wardrobe. Yes, they were five sizes too big for her, but they’d do.

  Matthew exited the en suite wearing a crisp white shirt and black jeans. “Are you ready for this, Mini-Me?”

  He earned a slap for his cheek. “Not bad for what was to hand. What’s first?”

  “That’s up to you, or should I say the weather? If it’s nice, we’ll take a chance on the grounds. What say you?”

  “Agreed.”

  He held his arm out. She slipped hers through the loop, and they set off. He regaled her with the details of his mother’s exploits in developing the grounds into something that was both picturesque and breathtaking at the same time.

  “This is incredible. Does your mother have any formal training as a landscape gardener?”

  “No. She has, however, studied numerous books about Capability Brown, who was her inspiration.”

  At the bottom of a long grass pathway was a stunning lake. In its centre was a magnificent fountain which changed shape every ten minutes or so.