Not a Marrying Man
Page 15
For a long moment, Gloria looked truly sad and regretful. Amber felt a little sorry for her. As much as she had her differences with her own family, she knew they would never do something like that; they would never disown her.
Gloria sighed, then straightened her shoulders in a telling gesture. It reminded Amber of Warwick and the way he straightened his shoulders sometimes.
‘I met James at a party,’ Gloria continued. ‘He seduced me with surprising ease, and it was during the first night we spent together that I confessed my predicament to him. You could have knocked me over with a feather when he said he would marry me and raise my baby as his own. But only if I took myself totally out of the picture. He said he wanted a legitimate child whom people recognised as his own, but not a wife.’
Amber took another sip of brandy to hide her shock. What kind of man made a proposition like that?
‘He told me that he’d had cancer as a young man, and several bouts of radiation therapy had rendered him sterile,’ Gloria elaborated. ‘Which I totally believed. But now that I know the truth, I suspect James might have already got himself a vasectomy so that he couldn’t have children. The man I married would not have risked passing on that horrible gene you told me about. James was too intelligent to let that happen.’
Warwick could only nod in agreement. It was, after all, what he had done himself.
‘I know you probably both think it was terrible of me to take money to give up my baby, but back then it seemed the best solution. I was only young and silly and, yes, ambitious. If it means anything to you,’ she said, looking directly at Warwick with sad eyes, ‘then I have thought of you often.’
‘And I you,’ he returned, not at all warmly.
‘Oh, dear,’ she said somewhat brokenly. ‘I suppose it’s too late to ask for your forgiveness.’
‘Much too late,’ Warwick bit out.
‘It’s never too late for forgiveness,’ Amber piped up beside him. ‘This is your mother, Warwick. The grandmother of your future children. I refuse to leave this house till you’ve made peace with each other.’
Both of them stared at her, Gloria with surprise and Warwick with irritation. Till he remembered that this was why he’d fallen in love with Amber. Because of her kind heart and warm, loving nature. Not to mention her stubbornness. Even when she was being stubborn, she was endearing.
His sigh carried resignation. ‘If I must …’
‘You must,’ Amber insisted.
‘All right. I forgive you … Mother.’
Strangely, when he said the words, Warwick felt better. Not that he’d ever been overly bitter about his mother abandoning him. After all, he’d never known her.
Gloria tried not to cry. She’d been trying not to cry ever since she’d opened the door and seen her son for the first time in over thirty-nine years. For most of those years, she’d deeply regretted the deal she’d made with James. The guilt had eaten away at her very soul till she was little more than an empty shell.
No wonder she’d never really made it as an actress. It must have shown up on the screen, the emptiness inside, the lack of love.
Not that she was lacking in love at this moment. It came rushing back, the fierce love that she’d felt for her baby the day he was born, but which she’d quickly buried beneath her selfishness and greed.
‘Thank you,’ she choked out. ‘And thank you,’ she directed at the lovely girl her son had brought with him.
The girl smiled, first at her, then up at Warwick. It was the most beautiful smile Gloria had ever seen: full of love and joy. A smile she hoped to see often in the years to come.
If fate would be that kind …
‘We should go now,’ Warwick said, taking Amber’s arm and standing up. ‘Your visitor will be arriving shortly.’
Gloria stood up, too. ‘There is no visitor. I lied about that.’
Amber swiftly realised that the man Gloria had dressed for had been her son.
‘Why don’t we take Gloria out for lunch, Warwick?’ she suggested. ‘It’s high time we got to know one another. After all, she is going to be my future mother-in-law.’
‘You’re getting married!’ Gloria gushed. ‘How wonderful. But you’re not wearing an engagement ring?’ she directed at Amber.
‘She will be by tonight,’ Warwick said brusquely.
‘So when is the wedding to be?’
‘This summer,’ Warwick replied firmly. ‘On a lovely little beach just north of Sydney.’
‘I thought I detected an Australian accent,’ Gloria said, smiling at Amber. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Australia.’
Amber glanced up at Warwick, who shrugged his resignation over what he had to do.
And so it was, that on a brilliantly sunny day in the first week in November on Wamberal Beach, Amber Roberts became Mrs Warwick Kincaid, the simple ceremony watched by only a small group of family and friends. Max was the best man, of course, with Tara a stunningly beautiful matron of honour. But not as beautiful as the bride, in Warwick’s opinion. Amber shone that day with a radiance and joy that transcended her physical beauty. He was so proud of her.
They didn’t have a traditional sit-down reception afterwards, choosing to celebrate with a more informal pool party at Max’s home.
Gloria, whom Warwick had flown over for the occasion, said it was the best wedding she’d ever been to.
Still, by the time Warwick and Amber flew off on their honeymoon—they’d chosen a secluded and exclusive island resort up in the Whitsunday passage—both of them were happy to be alone. The last few months had been a rather stressful time, what with Warwick having had his vasectomy reversed, then having to wait to see if it had worked. Amber had not yet fallen pregnant and it worried Warwick that he would not be able to give her what she wanted most in the world—and what he wanted too.
So it was a highly concerned Warwick who awaited the result of another pregnancy test, which Amber took on the last day of their three-week honeymoon. Her period was only a week late, so it was possibly too early to have a definitive result.
Still.
His heart was thudding loudly in his chest by the time she emerged from the bathroom.
‘Well?’ he asked, unable to read the somewhat blank expression on her face.
‘It went blue,’ she said. ‘Very blue.’
‘Which means? ‘
‘I’m pregnant, Warwick. We’re going to have a baby!’
Warwick couldn’t speak, a huge lump forming in his throat. Amber hurried over to where he was standing by the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she murmured, and laid her head against his chest. ‘I know exactly how you feel.’
EPILOGUE
Excerpt from Amber’s new year diary, started late in her twenty-sixth year, well after she became Mrs Kincaid, and the mother of a girl.
I haven’t had much time to write in you lately, diary. Having a baby is very … time-consuming. You know, I thought I’d be able to handle being a mother just fine. I was so organised. By the time I went into labour, we’d finished redecorating the B & B at Wamberal into the most beautiful family home, with one of the guest bedrooms upstairs being turned into the prettiest pink nursery—we knew we were having a girl. But shortly after I brought little Kate home from hospital, I found myself crying one day and unable to stop. Poor Warwick didn’t know what to do. He rang Tara, who had a new baby of her own. Another boy, named Lachlan. She said what I needed was some temporary help with the baby, but not a professional nanny: someone who cared about me. She suggested my mother. I was doubtful, but Warwick rang Mum anyway and she was up here in a flash. Turns out I had a mild case of post-natal depression. Mum recognised it straight away because she apparently suffered from it very badly after having me. She told me that she’d been totally unable to care for me and that Aunt Kate had taken me right away to her place for almost three months. Fortunately, I wasn’t as bad as that. Still, it explained to me wh
y Mum didn’t have the same bonding with me that she had with my brothers. But you know what? During the last month of her staying here and helping me with Katie, we’ve become so close. Warwick’s opinion of her has gone full circle, too. He thinks she’s marvellous and says so all the time. Of course, Mum goes to mush and even blushed once or twice. If I hadn’t witnessed it for myself I wouldn’t have believed it. She’s going home tomorrow and I’m going to miss her heaps. But it will be nice to have my darling Katie to myself again. She’s just so adorable. Warwick says she’s a clone of me but I can see him in her eyes. And she’s much longer than I was as a baby. Or so my mum says. She’s going to be tall—and very smart. She’s already smiling and I’m sure it’s not gas! Warwick said he’s not going to spoil her, but you only have to see all the toys he’s already bought to know that he’s going to be putty in her hands. I thought Max loved his children but when I see Warwick hold Katie there’s something extra special in his eyes, something miraculous.
That’s what he always calls her: his little miracle.
When I think about all that’s happened, I’m sure he’s absolutely right.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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First published in Great Britain 2011
Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Miranda Lee 2011
ISBN: 978-1-408-92543-0
Table of Contents
Cover
Excerpt
About the Author
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Copyright