Wedding-Night Baby

by Kim Lawrence

  ‘Do you want me to talk of love and commitment?’ And for one awful moment she thought the words had left her lips. ‘Your faithful Alex did all those things. Don’t put your faith in words; accept instinct. Every instinct is telling you to come with me, isn’t it?’

  She’d forgotten the casual passers-by in the foyer and the focal point that the tableau of their immobile figures made. His voice and the wild response it was evoking were all she was aware of. ‘You’re asking me to put my faith in you?’ I must be mad to even consider this! she thought.

  ‘Cal!’ The cheery hail made Callum spin around, a dark scowl on his features. ‘Thought we’d be too early.’ A tall young man with collar-length blond hair and a square jaw identical to Callum’s slapped him enthusiastically on the shoulder. ‘Introduce us to the lovely lady,’ he demanded in an attractive accent more pronounced than Callum’s.

  ‘Hello again.’ As Georgina tried to regain her composure—the transition to reality was bewildering after the intense concentration of moments before—the dark girl of earlier that day moved into her line of vision. ‘I did try to hold him back,’ she said softly, her voice apologetic, ‘but tact and discretion are not my husband’s strongest points. Hi, Cal, darling... My, doesn’t he look delighted to see us, Rick?’

  She hugged Callum and with a rueful bark of laughter he responded, relaxing his broad shoulders as he hugged the girl, but his eyes when they met Georgina’s were seething with frustration.

  ‘Is this a bad time?’ With a puzzled expression Rick looked from Georgina to his brother.

  Tricia, once more replaced on her feet, let out a crow of laughter. ‘When they handed out intuition he was at the end of the queue, poor lamb,’ she observed drily. ‘Do you want a drink, Cal, or shall I drag him off?’

  Her forthright approach and the dawning curiosity in Rick’s grey eyes were making Georgina acutely uncomfortable. ‘Actually I should be going,’ she murmured faintly.

  The young couple’s admonitions were sliced neatly by Callum’s incisive ‘No!’

  Georgina felt her temper surge into life. Where did he get off with all that you’ll-jump-when-I-speak rubbish? she thought, her eyes smouldering dangerously.

  ‘Very masterful, Cal,’ his brother observed in a voice that didn’t hide his curiosity at this unusual behaviour.

  ‘Rude and arrogant were my thoughts on the subject,’ Georgina said, recovering her voice.

  ‘Too true...but then he’s always had leanings in that direction,’ the young man explained, ignoring his brother’s murderous glare. ‘What’s your name? You seem like a woman with sense and discrimination,’ he continued, placing an inoffensive arm across her shoulders. ‘What are you doing with my brother?’

  The charm was of a totally different type from Callum’s and, completely unintimidated, she found herself responding to the twinkling eyes and outrageous wink.

  ‘I’m Georgina Campion.’

  ‘Come on, Georgina Campion, and have a drink with my wife and me; we’re celebrating.’ He gave his elder brother a passing glance. ‘You can come too,’ he offered in a spirit of generosity.

  Somehow Georgina found herself led to the lounge bar and seated in the middle of the Stewart clan. Rick was exuberant and his young wife drily humorous. The young couple appeared to have accepted her as though she and Callum were an item—a fact she found distinctly unsettling. It would be nice if the scenario were true, she thought wistfully, her eyes drawn to Callum’s face as he laughed at some outrageous comment his brother had made.

  ‘Are you here on holiday?’ she asked, swallowing hard as Callum intercepted her look. The sardonic gleam in his eyes made her heart rate quicken alarmingly. At times it was difficult to believe that he couldn’t read minds. She felt emotionally exposed with him in a way she’d never experienced before.

  ‘Delayed honeymoon,’ Tricia said, with a quick, intimate smile at her husband. ‘The first moment we’ve been able to get away; Wollundra is this one’s mistress,’ she said with mock censure. Her confidence made it clear that that situation was anything but true.

  ‘Have you been married long?’ Georgina quashed a surge of jealousy at the obvious warmth in their relationship. It made her poignantly aware of what she was missing out on, and how much had been missing from her relationship with Alex.

  ‘Three years...’

  ‘Two months, five days and—’ Rick glanced at his wristwatch ‘—five hours, twenty-seven minutes.’ He reached out his hand and clasped his wife’s, raising it to his lips.

  ‘How is Susie?’ Callum asked.

  ‘Mum’s the same as ever, she sends you her love and says when are you coming home, brother. I told her you were too busy playing a big tycoon. Have you got that situation under control, Callum?’

  ‘I’m working on it,’ Callum said, slanting Georgina a lazily speculative look.

  ‘He was quite a character, Oliver,’ Rick mused with a grin. ‘You could tell he was Ruth’s brother straight away. He turned up at Wollundra a few years back to give Callum the once-over,’ he explained to Georgina. ‘It was a regular royal visitation, just like her ladyship, but he brought his personal assistant instead of his hairdresser.’ He laughed and slapped his thigh. ‘If you’ll pardon the expression, I’ve seen belts longer than the skirts she wore and—’

  ‘I think I should point out before you get yourself in any deeper, brother, that until his death Georgina was Oliver’s PA,’ Callum put in blandly.

  Rick’s mouth opened and closed twice before he actually spoke. ‘Anyone got a crowbar to get this foot out of my mouth?’ he asked hopefully. ‘No offence intended, Georgina.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Rick, I’ve weathered worse insults recently,’ she said, giving Callum a very pointed glare.

  ‘What was she called, Rick?’ Callum enquired.

  ‘Miss Jones,’ Rick replied uncomfortably.

  ‘That was it...’ Callum agreed with a reminiscent grin. ‘Oliver did have an eye for a good pair of...legs. Mind you, Georgina wears her skirts much longer—at least at work. In fact it’s almost like a uniform with her hair scraped back, not to mention her glasses. Do you actually need them?’ he asked her.

  ‘I’m very short-sighted.’

  ‘That explains why she’s out with you, big brother,’ Rick put in.

  ‘This is business,’ Georgina responded too quickly. The younger Stewart regarded her with amused scepticism and the older with a virtuous expression that made her grit her teeth.

  ‘It must have been interesting working for Oliver.’

  Georgina smiled gratefully at Tricia. ‘It was,’ she agreed. ‘I miss him.’ Let them make what they like of that, she thought, lifting her chin.

  ‘Georgina held a very privileged position in the agency. It must be hard to take it when you see your influence eroded.’

  ‘What I meant was I miss Oliver as a person,’ she said, longing to wipe that supercilious sneer off his face.

  ‘Have you got something in your eye, Georgina?’ Callum asked, examining the sudden misty sheen in her eyes with cynical distaste.

  ‘Only my contact lenses,’ she responded grimly.

  Rick, encouraged by his wife’s grimaces and the kick on his shin, broke the awkward pause. ‘Mum was over the moon when I gave her the good news. I’ve told her she’ll have to mend her ways if she’s going to be a grandmother.’

  ‘Your smugness borders on the nauseous,’ Callum observed, his lips twitching slightly as he shifted his attention from Georgina. ‘You’d think no one ever produced a baby before.’

  ‘Naturally not one as talented and exceptionally beautiful as ours will be,’ his brother responded.

  ‘You two are embarrassing Georgina,’ Tricia remonstrated. ‘Callum hadn’t told you, Georgina?’

  Just what sort of relationship did they think she had with Callum? she wondered, imagining how different their attitude would be if they knew how their paths had crossed. If they knew she had been a one-night stand!


  ‘It came as a bit of a surprise to us too; I thought I’d developed air sickness,’ Tricia recalled, her dark eyebrows shooting up towards her hairline. ‘I’ve got so used to Rick announcing my condition to the whole world, I just took it for granted... Callum has more discretion.’

  ‘Congratulations,’ Georgina murmured warmly. That glow was easily explainable now. Would their child have the Stewarts’ obstinate chin? she wondered, unaware of the wistful smile that tugged at her lips.

  ‘Feeling broody, Georgina?’ Rick joked. ‘Have to watch out, brother.’ He appeared oblivious to the sudden drop in temperature around the table.

  ‘Georgina is a career woman, Rick. I don’t think maternal feelings keep her awake nights.’

  She could see by the tightening of the muscles along his jawline that Callum hadn’t liked his brother’s light-hearted remark. The assumption that she didn’t want children . . . wasn’t fit to have them was probably what he meant...made her stiffen. His acrid observation might not have been meant to wound but it had cut her deeply.

  I’m overreacting here, she reasoned, lowering her eyes over the hurt and anger. But the pain still didn’t retreat. ‘Can’t career women become mothers?’ she enquired, lifting her head with a jerk. Her hair lashed across her face as she tossed back her head, and she brushed it impatiently out of her eyes.

  ‘You make choices in life. A mother who bears a child just because she doesn’t want to miss out on the experience is being selfish in the worst possible way. Something has to give, and for women like you it’s not going to be the job, is it?’

  The uncomfortable silence was broken by Tricia. ‘It’s only men who can’t juggle, Callum. Women have been doing it for years,’ she said lightly. ‘Besides, I’m all for sharing. Rick is keen to experience the joys of nappies.’

  ‘I am?’

  ‘Women like me?’ Georgina said in a dangerous voice, totally ignoring Tricia’s pacific comment. Callum’s arrogant presumption went beyond all bounds. ‘Don’t stop now; I’m agog to hear what sermon you’re choking on. Tell me, do they engrave your observations on the meaning of life in stone?’

  A suspicious sound escaped Rick’s throat, but it was cut off when his wife sent him a warning glance.

  ‘All through history there have been examples of women defending their offspring against tremendous odds. What is less well documented is the fact that others have no maternal instincts whatever and those women should not have children. I’m not saying it’s a modern phenomenon.’

  The cold silver light that filtered into his blue eyes made him appear more remote than a total stranger. He was too intelligent to believe all that sexist rubbish, surely? she thought incredulously. ‘It was a sad day when we got the vote,’ she said sympathetically, her eyes glowing with scorn.

  ‘There’s no need to take it personally.’

  ‘Like hell there isn’t!’ she snarled back. She got to her feet with unconscious dignity. ‘I’m not your mother, Callum Stewart, so don’t work out your aggression on me. My maternal feelings, or lack of them, are none of your damned business. In fact,’ she said flatly, ‘nothing I do is.’

  What an exit line, she thought. Swallowing a bubble of hysteria, she walked away. He didn’t try to stop her but, having seen the violent surge of icy rage that contorted his features when she’d mentioned his mother, she hadn’t expected him to.

  Before she got into her cab Tricia came running up. The girl looked at her with deep concern in her dark eyes. ‘Don’t go, Georgina,’ she begged.

  ‘Did Callum ask you to say that? I thought not,’ she said, when the other girl’s expression spoke volumes.

  ‘I know he was wildly out of order. He may not be a modern man exactly,’ she conceded, ‘but he likes women.’ She looked genuinely confused. ‘You touched a bit of a nerve about his mother.’

  Georgina drew in a deep breath and looked the girl straight in the eye. ‘He doesn’t like me, Tricia. He wants to sleep with me...against his better judgement.’

  ‘Do you like him?’

  Georgina swallowed the solid lump of emotion that rose in her throat. She shook her head helplessly. ‘No, but I do...’ She went deathly pale as she realised what she’d been about to admit. Not him, not Callum—fate couldn’t be that cruel! She gave the driver her instructions and slid inside. The realisation made her feel sick. How could she have let it happen? Why me? she wondered with the age-old cry of bewilderment.

  She didn’t need to say it out loud to Tricia; she could see sympathy on the other woman’s face. She must be painfully transparent. She felt reasonably confident that Tricia wouldn’t betray the confidence; they’d established an unusual rapport, considering the short length of their acquaintance. She hunched her shoulders as silent tears slid down her cheeks. What could she do when circumstances were so totally out of control?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  GEORGINA STARTED as her mother returned to the small sitting room carrying a tray. Turning her back on the idyllic rural scene through the window, she took a seat. Best china. Mother always did have a sense of occasion. Her daughter’s presence, Georgina thought guiltily, had become rare enough for her to realise that there was nothing casual about this visit.

  Georgina didn’t protest as sugar was liberally spooned into her cup, despite the fact that she’d stopped taking any in her teens. Once the action would have irritated her intensely but now, with more important things on her mind, she let it pass.

  ‘You’ve left your job. Was that wise?’

  Peter Llewellyn had asked her to stay on once she’d worked her six weeks’ notice. She’d been touched and pleased by his enthusiasm to keep her on. ‘It was necessary,’ Georgina returned, balancing a biscuit on her saucer. ‘I’ve got good references.’ Glowing would be more accurate. When she was in a position to look for a job once more she was going to be grateful for that. ‘I’ve signed on with a temp agency at the moment.’

  ‘But you are looking for something permanent?’

  Georgina took a deep breath. ‘In theory pregnancy shouldn’t make a difference to a prospective employer. In reality it can prove an obstacle,’ she said drily. ‘It’s never the reason they give, but...’

  A slight flinch and a widening of the expertly made-up eyes were the only outward signs that her mother had registered her news. Georgina, who had been expecting, with resignation, a general beating of breasts and tearing out of hair, relaxed fractionally. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as bad as she had expected.

  ‘Are you keeping it?’

  ‘Yes!’ The vehemence made the older woman blink.

  ‘So, I’m to be a grandmother. More tea?’

  An incredulous smile tilted the corners of Georgina’s generous lips. ‘You never fail to amaze me,’ she observed.

  ‘On this occasion the amazement is all mine. I take it you’ll clam up if I mention the father? I thought so,’ Lydia said as a faint spasm of pain contorted her daughter’s features. ‘In that case, I won’t ask,’ she said briskly. ‘I’ll stick to practicalities. Are you planning to move back here?’

  Georgina thought she detected relief when she shook her head. Who could blame her mother? The small cottage had two bedrooms and one of them barely fitted her single bed. Support had been the last thing she had expected but she was getting it—quiet, non-judgemental support. The sense of relief not to be completely alone was intense.

  The last six weeks had been one of the most confusing periods of her life as she’d suspected and then known for sure that she was carrying Callum’s child. Above and beyond the fear and confusion she had discovered a strong, unexpected core of happiness. She hadn’t realised how strong it was until her GP had bluntly asked her the same question her mother had. Then she had known how deeply she did want this child. She’d gone from feeling weighed down with the burden of her new responsibilities to experiencing the most incredibly protective urges of a prospective mother.

  ‘I’ll keep my flat.’

&n
bsp; ‘How will you manage...financially?’ A crease of worry pleated her mother’s still smooth brow.

  ‘You did.’

  ‘Is the father going to contribute?’ Lydia said, relief in her voice. ‘Your father never shirked his duty, Georgina; my job in the florist’s wouldn’t have kept us.’

  Georgina’s gaze shifted uncomfortably. She couldn’t tell her mother how impossible it was for her to let Callum know about the baby. How could she expect commitment when all that had been between them had been physical? She had no right to compel him to accept an unwanted child, and under the circumstances she felt she owed him anonymity. The fact that she’d fallen in love didn’t alter the superficial nature of their brief relationship.

  ‘Actually, Oliver left me a legacy,’ she admitted eventually. She knew she couldn’t afford to prove her moral superiority and not touch the windfall now. Besides, such a gesture would be lost on Callum; he probably hadn’t given her a thought. This one time he’d been to London she’d only known because Peter had mentioned it in passing. It put things painfully in perspective, with the emphasis on pain!

  Her mother went white. ‘Are you trying to tell me that Oliver...?’ She clutched her throat as if she was having trouble breathing. ‘He wouldn’t!’ she said in a strangled voice.

  ‘Mother!’ Georgina cried, outraged. ‘Not you too!’ Her annoyance turned to concern as a faint blue discoloration etched Lydia’s lips. ‘Can I get you something...a brandy?’

  ‘No, no, I’m fine.’

  ‘You don’t look it,’ Georgina said frankly. This was more the reaction she’d expected earlier in the conversation. ‘Oliver left me a stack of shares, and, before you ask me why, don’t. I’ve no more idea than you.’ The brown manila envelope had contained nothing more than the share certificates—no note, nothing. This bizarre generosity was still a mystery to her.