Christmas Eve Marriage (HQR Classic)

by Jessica Hart

  If Rhys thought Lynda could be intimidating, Thea didn’t give much for her own chances of not being put off by his ex. He had to be the least easily intimidated person she had ever met.

  ‘I gathered from Kate that she’s a very successful businesswoman.’

  ‘She is. She’s a clever woman, with a huge amount of drive and determination, and she’s ambitious too. I remember when I asked her to marry me, I was amazed when she agreed. I never thought she’d settle for less than a millionaire.’

  Oh, so he had been besotted enough to want Lynda, even thinking something like that about her. Thea’s lips tightened at the thought of Rhys loving Lynda enough to risk rejection. How thrilled he must have been, how dazzled by her, when she agreed.

  ‘You obviously didn’t make the mistake of asking her in the middle of a tube station,’ she said almost tartly, and Rhys was startled into a grin.

  ‘No, I didn’t do that.’

  ‘How did you propose?’ Thea asked in spite of herself.

  ‘The usual clichés. A restaurant, candlelight, roses…I was very young,’ he added, as if excusing himself.

  ‘Oh, those old chestnuts,’ said Thea enviously. She wouldn’t have said no either if Rhys had laid on the clichés for her. ‘I’m not sure I wouldn’t prefer a wet tube station, myself,’ she lied.

  The corner of Rhys’s mouth lifted as he looked at her, sitting bright-eyed in her suit, the raindrops still spangling the mass of brown hair. ‘I’ll remember that,’ he said.

  It was still raining when they eventually emerged from the underground station at Wimbledon, so they shared Thea’s umbrella, walking close to keep as dry as possible. Thea normally hated the rain, but she would have been happy to have walked like that for hours with Rhys. All too soon, though, he was indicating a house ahead.

  ‘Here we are.’

  They stood in the shelter of the porch and Thea shook the worst of the rain from her umbrella.

  ‘Nervous?’ asked Rhys as they rang the doorbell.

  ‘Should I be?’

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ he reassured her.

  The door opened, and Thea realised that (a) he hadn’t answered her question directly, and (b) exactly why he had used that reassuring tone of voice.

  She had been expecting someone crisp and conventional like Kate, but Lynda wasn’t like that at all. Instead she was dark and dramatic, almost exotic-looking, with huge brown eyes and a cascade of beautiful dark hair down her back. Very slender—infuriatingly so, in fact—she wore black jeans that clung to her perfectly yoga-honed body and a sexy, sleeveless vest that Thea wouldn’t have been able to carry off in a million years.

  Just to make Thea feel even more lumpy and bourgeois, she was barefoot, presumably to show off her toe-ring. The message, clearly, was that Lynda was too intense and spiritual to waste her time with superficial things like shoes.

  Thea was torn between intense irritation and wanting to sink through the floor. She had seen Lynda’s eyes flick dismissively over the suit she had been so proud of. It had felt so smart and sexy that morning; now it seemed merely cheap and conservative and utterly, utterly boring. She would have been better off in her crumpled sundress.

  Why hadn’t Rhys warned her? Thea raged internally. It was a bit late to hint at the need to be nervous when she was actually at the door!

  He was kissing Lynda’s cheek, all very friendly and amicable. No bitter divorce for the likes of Lynda, obviously. ‘I’ve brought Thea to meet you, as promised,’ he said.

  ‘Hello.’

  Thea’s smile felt stiff as she held out her hand. No doubt shaking hands was as bourgeois and outdated as wearing a suit to work. Lynda probably expected her to exchange some spiritually sound greeting, chink their crystals together, perhaps, or press their hands to heart and forehead.

  Lynda didn’t exactly shun her hand, but she clasped it warmly between both of hers as if to indicate that a simple shake would be too repressed and buttoned up for her.

  ‘It’s marvellous to meet you at last, Thea,’ she said, her voice deep and breathy. ‘Come in.’

  She ushered them into an incredibly cool, uncluttered room that had Feng Shui all over it. Comparing it to her own unbelievably chaotic sitting room, with its mismatched curtains and junk shop furniture, Thea suppressed a sigh. Funny, just when you thought you could feel as inadequate as it was possible to feel, you could manage to feel it just that little bit more.

  The sound of feet charging down the stairs made her turn, and the next second Sophie burst into the room. ‘Thea!’

  ‘Sophie!’ Thea was so glad to see her and to find her exactly the same that tears pricked at her eyes as she hugged the little girl. ‘I’ve missed you! So has Clara.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’ve heard a lot about Clara.’ Lynda’s laugh held a slight edge, and Thea guessed that she had been talking to Kate. ‘She sounds quite a character!’

  ‘Yes, she is,’ Thea agreed.

  ‘Come and see my room,’ said Sophie, tugging at her hand.

  ‘Sophie,’ Lynda interrupted reproachfully. ‘Aren’t you going to say hello to your father?’

  ‘Sorry, Dad.’ She ran over to give him a hug. ‘I was just excited to see Thea again.’

  He grinned down at her and tweaked her nose. ‘I know how you feel, Sophie!’

  ‘Come on, then, Thea.’

  Sophie headed for the door and Thea hesitated. She could see that Lynda was looking a little tight-lipped, but when she glanced at Rhys he nodded encouragingly.

  She admired Sophie’s room, which looked remarkably like Clara’s, right down to the photo board. In pride of place, she was interested to see, was a picture of the four of them by the pool in Crete.

  Thea remembered the day Nick had taken it for them. Rhys had been at one end and Thea at the other, with Sophie and Clara in between them. They were all laughing, squinting a little into the sun, and they looked so happy and relaxed that Thea’s heart contracted.

  ‘We had a good time in Crete, didn’t we?’ she said to Sophie, who heaved a sigh.

  ‘I asked Dad if we could go again with you next year.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He said, “We’ll see”,’ said Sophie, and Thea couldn’t help laughing at her disgusted expression.

  ‘I’m afraid that’s the kind of thing parents say!’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’d better go down and talk to your mum,’ she said. ‘That’s why I came, really.’

  ‘OK.’

  Sophie jumped off the bed and took her back down to where whatever words Lynda and Rhys might have had about their daughter had obviously been resolved. As Thea came down the stairs she could see them through the open doorway. They were sitting together on the sofa, talking. Lynda was leaning earnestly towards Rhys, her dark eyes fixed on his face, and Thea’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Lynda’s body language said that she still had a more than proprietorial interest in him.

  Fixing on a bright smile, she let Sophie lead the way into the room.

  ‘There you are!’ Lynda uncoiled herself from the sofa and got to her feet. ‘Come and have that drink, Thea. Rhys, you know where everything is, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said and smiled at Thea as he stood up. ‘What would you like, darling?’

  For a terrible moment, Thea thought that he was speaking to Lynda. Then she remembered the ring on her finger and the part she was supposed to be playing.

  ‘My usual, please,’ she said innocently. Let him make of that what he would!

  ‘Can I have a lemonade?’ asked Sophie.

  ‘You know I won’t have lemonade in the house,’ said Lynda in a sharp voice. ‘Rhys, you don’t give her lemonade, do you?’

  ‘Occasionally,’ he said from the kitchen.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t. Those drinks are full of additives.’

  ‘Oh, Mum…’

  ‘That’s enough, Sophie. You’re not having anything. Anyway, you haven’t done your violin practice yet. Dad will come up
and listen to you while I’m talking to Thea.’

  ‘I want to stay with Thea,’ grumbled Sophie and Lynda’s fine brows drew together.

  ‘Answering back seems to be a little habit you’ve picked up on holiday, Sophie,’ she said, which Thea was sure was a dig at Clara. It sounded exactly like something Kate would say, anyway. ‘I don’t like it. Now, off you go.’

  Sophie scuffed off crossly and could be heard stomping upstairs as Rhys came back in with a glass of white wine for Thea and some murky-looking juice for Lynda, who had sunk gracefully into the lotus position on the floor.

  ‘Organic cranberry and ginger,’ she said, following Thea’s appalled gaze, and took a sip. ‘Delicious.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ said Thea politely, glad that Rhys had given her wine. She had a feeling she was going to need it, even if it wasn’t the gin and tonic she had been craving. No doubt they had too many additives to be allowed in Lynda’s house too.

  ‘Darling, I told Sophie you’d go and listen to her violin practice,’ said Lynda as Rhys made to sit down next to Thea.

  Darling, eh? Thea’s eyes narrowed slightly. It would be interesting to know whether Lynda called everyone darling, or if it had been a deliberate slip in response to the fact that he had called Thea darling so obviously.

  ‘You can take your drink with you,’ Lynda was overriding Rhys’s attempts to object. ‘You’re always saying you want to be more involved with what Sophie’s doing,’ she added reproachfully. ‘Or is that just for effect?’

  In the end, Rhys had little choice but to follow his daughter. He could hardly insist on staying when Lynda was so insistent and, anyway, Thea could see that the merest suggestion that he might not be prepared to pull his weight with Sophie had stung.

  ‘Now,’ said Lynda, turning back to Thea, ‘we can have a good chat without him cramping our style.’

  ‘Right,’ said Thea a little nervously.

  ‘I hope you won’t think I’m nosy, but naturally I want to know as much as I can about anyone proposing to spend what will inevitably be a lot of time with my daughter.’

  Well, that seemed fair enough. ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘And, then again, I’m still very fond of Rhys,’ Lynda went on. ‘If he really has found someone he can be happy with, no one would be more delighted than me, I promise you.’

  She sighed and ran a hand through the dark rippling hair. ‘I’ve felt so responsible for the fact that he’s had such difficulty forming relationships since our divorce. I know I damaged him, and I want so much for him to recover, but…’

  Ah. Thea had had a feeling that a but was coming.

  Lynda lowered sweeping lashes. ‘I don’t quite know how to say this,’ she said, her voice positively throbbing with sincerity, ‘but I want to be sure that Rhys has found the right woman for him. He’s such a special person.’

  ‘I know he is,’ said Thea evenly. ‘That’s why I’m in love with him.’

  ‘Ah, then you do understand that!’

  As opposed to not understanding everything else? Thea wondered with rising irritation. Perhaps it was time to go on the offensive.

  ‘Are you trying to say that you don’t think I am the right woman for him?’

  Lynda held up her hands. ‘Please, Thea, don’t get defensive. I’m only trying to ensure that you and Rhys don’t make a terrible mistake. It may be that you are meant for each other but, if not, it’s surely better to find out now. Nobody knows better than I do what agony divorce can be.’

  Thea thought about her sister, who probably knew just as much about the pain of divorce as Lynda, who had waltzed off of her own accord.

  ‘What exactly makes you think that we might be making a mistake?’ she asked coldly.

  ‘It’s just one or two things Kate said that made me wonder,’ said Lynda, still oozing warmth and sincerity.

  Thea eyed her with acute dislike. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘What kind of things?’

  ‘We-ell, she mentioned that you were a secretary, for a start.’

  ‘Yes, I work for a PR firm. Is that a problem?’

  ‘Oh, not a problem as such. It’s just that Rhys has always been a bit of an intellectual. I remember I used to feel quite intimidated by him sometimes.’ She gave a little trill of laughter as if to show that she knew how incredible this seemed. ‘He’s got a marvellous mind,’ she added earnestly. ‘He’s someone who really needs an intellectual equal.’

  Right, so that ruled Thea out, obviously.

  She wondered about telling Lynda about her degree, but decided not to bother. It wouldn’t make any difference.

  Lynda could talk all she liked about wanting Rhys to be happy, but to Thea it was pretty clear that she had no intention of letting him out of her sphere of influence. She didn’t want to be married to him herself, but she didn’t want anyone else to have him either. In Lynda’s world, Rhys belonged firmly on the end of her string, to be jerked whenever she chose.

  Just like Harry and Isabelle.

  It turned out that she wasn’t cosmopolitan enough for Rhys either. A few holidays on the Continent and a trip to New York didn’t make her a suitable companion for a man as well-travelled as Rhys, it seemed.

  ‘I feel he really needs someone who has spent some time in developing countries and is used to expatriate life,’ said Lynda.

  ‘He’s not an expatriate now,’ Thea couldn’t help pointing out. ‘He’s living in Wimbledon!’

  Lynda frowned a little at her obtuseness. ‘I don’t think that’s quite the point, Thea.’

  From upstairs, Thea could hear the scraping of Sophie’s violin. She wished the two of them would come down and rescue her.

  ‘What exactly is the point?’

  ‘The point is that to be really happy Rhys needs someone with a similar background and experiences to his. You can’t just start from scratch. I always think the history each person brings to a relationship is almost as important as the present. Don’t you agree?’

  Thea thought about Harry again. ‘As a matter of fact, I do, yes.’

  ‘I mean, holiday romances are all very well, but when it comes down to it, it’s being able to share the important experiences of life that makes the strongest bond. Things like marriage and having children. You just can’t understand what that’s like until you’ve been there. You, for instance, have never been married, have you, Thea?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And you haven’t got any children?’

  ‘No.’ Thea felt as if she were failing spectacularly at an important interview. ‘But I really like children,’ she offered, hating herself for sounding as if she was seeking approval. ‘I spend a lot of time with my niece.’

  ‘Ye-es.’ Lynda’s lack of enthusiasm was perfectly judged. ‘I’ve heard a lot about Clara. She’s obviously given a lot more freedom than Sophie is used to.’

  The subtext being that Thea was clearly irresponsible and an unfit person to be in charge of children. Thea bit back an angry retort.

  ‘I’m just trying to say that you don’t always have to have had a baby to know about children.’

  ‘No, but it’s not the same, is it? You can have no idea of what it’s like to hold your newborn baby in your arms, or to see them take their first steps. Rhys does. That’s something you can’t share with him.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Lynda went on so patronisingly that it was all Thea could do not to grind her teeth. ‘The fact is that, as far as the important things in life are concerned, you and he don’t share much common ground, and I’m not sure that bodes well for a long-term relationship, let alone marriage. Sharing the same kind of experiences, the same kind of life, the same way of thinking…these things are fundamental to any strong relationship.’

  Thea took a defiant slurp of her wine, but her heart was sinking.

  The very worst thing was that Lynda was right.

  ‘I think you should ask yourself what you and Rhys really have in common,’ said Lynda in that hateful gentle voice
that made Thea want to stand up and scream.

  This was Sophie’s mother, though, so she couldn’t do that. She looked at the sapphires gleaming on her finger instead and thought about Rhys, about those long sunny days and the starlit nights and the way his smile warmed her. She thought about how safe she felt when she was with him and the deep thrill that ran through her whenever he touched her and the terrible emptiness when he had gone.

  Lifting her eyes, she looked directly at Lynda. ‘We love each other,’ she said.

  Lynda sighed regretfully. ‘Sometimes love isn’t enough. I’ll be honest with you, Thea,’ she said. ‘I was rather afraid that Rhys would do something like this.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Get involved with someone on the rebound from our divorce.’

  Thea gaped at her. ‘You’ve been divorced five years! It’s a bit late for a rebound, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not if you think that Rhys has been in something of a limbo since then. He’s only been back in the country a few weeks. You must be about the first woman he has had the chance to meet.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t realise there weren’t any women in Morocco.’

  ‘Sarcasm is a very negative reaction, Thea,’ said Lynda reproachfully. ‘Remember, I’m only trying to help. I care too much about Rhys to want him to get involved in something that might only hurt both of you.’

  If she was waiting for Thea to thank her for her concern, she had a long wait ahead of her. Thea set her chin stubbornly.

  ‘Rhys came back to get to know Sophie properly before it’s too late,’ Lynda went on, evidently abandoning hope of any gratitude on Thea’s part. ‘He’s got a lot of years to make up for, and I think it’s best if he does that before he gets involved with anyone else.’

  It was all sounding very familiar. Had the whole concentrate-on-Sophie idea come from Lynda in the first place? It was a perfect way for her to maintain her influence without actually going to the bother of marrying Rhys again. The first sign that another woman might become part of his life, and all Lynda had to do was press the guilt button. Oh, yes, Thea could see it all.

  She wasn’t about to give Lynda the satisfaction of admitting that she was beaten, though. She smiled sweetly at the other woman.