by Anne Mather
‘What Mrs Ravek’s trying to tell you is that your mother rang while you were out,’ declared Mrs Temple, without preamble.
‘My mother?’ Jay’s eyes narrowed. ‘So?’
‘So—she’s coming to lunch,’ muttered Cassandra unwillingly. ‘She and—and your stepfather. They’ve been staying in the area, and they thought it was a good opportunity to—to meet me.’
Jay’s expression was unreadable. ‘You invited them?’
‘I suppose so.’ Cassandra found she could not let his mother take all the blame. ‘Do you mind terribly?’
Jay took a deep breath. ‘There’s not much point now, is there?’
Mrs Temple slipped away, and Cassandra linked her hands together. ‘You—you won’t be able to write,’ she murmured apologetically. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’ll survive,’ he retorted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. ‘I just wish you’d waited before making any arrangements.’
Cassandra felt a twinge of resentment. ‘Are—are you ashamed of me, is that it?’
‘Don’t talk rubbish!’
‘What is it, then?’ Cassandra tilted her head defiantly. ‘I’d like to meet your mother. That’s not unnatural, is it?’
‘Perhaps. In the circumstances.’ Jay was abrupt.
‘We are married, Jay.’
‘Don’t I know it?’ His mouth tightened. ‘Unfortunately, my mother doesn’t know that you’re pregnant!’
Cassandra groped weakly for the banister. ‘She—doesn’t know?’
‘No.’ Jay thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘I saw no reason to tell her. It’s nothing to do with her.’
‘Jay, she’s the baby’s grandmother—–’
‘I know it.’ Jay was indifferent.
‘Then she has a right to know.’
‘Why?’ His eyes challenged hers. ‘You’ve made no bones about the fact that once the baby’s born you intend to get a divorce. I may be granted the courtesy of providing for my child, but I doubt I’ll be given custody, don’t you?’
Cassandra quivered. ‘That’s in the future—–’
‘Is it?’ Jay’s jaw hardened. ‘I find it’s very much in the present. It occupies my every waking minute. The only respite I get is when I write.’
‘Then you must get a lot,’ retorted Cassandra tersely. ‘You seem to do nothing else but!’
‘What would you have me do?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Spend my time with you? Torture myself by not touching you, watching you, wanting you! Oh, yes—–’ His lips twisted. ‘That old dragon has raised its ugly head again. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten my promise. I’ll keep out of your way, if you’ll keep out of mine.’ He walked across to the study door and thrust it open. ‘Go and make yourself pretty for our visitors. I’ll be in here, if you want me.’
If she wanted him!
In her bedroom, Cassandra acknowledged that she wanted him badly. Indeed, if his mother and stepfather’s arrival had not been imminent she might well have told him so. As it was, she was faced with the prospect of entertaining his parents when all she really wanted to do was sort out her troubled feelings.
A full-length cream smock, with tiny flowers embroidered round the low neckline and scalloped hem, seemed the most attractive item in her limited wardrobe. It had no sleeves, which she thought was a disadvantage, but at least her arms were tanned and contrasted agreeably with the thin cotton. Her feet also were bare. She had not worn tights for weeks, and her legs had tanned accordingly and complemented her high-heeled sandals.
She heard the car arrive as she was descending the stairs, and Jay came out of the study to greet his parents as she reached the bottom step. His eyes appraised her burningly, lingering on the tell-tale peaks pressing against the material of her bodice, and then he slammed the study door abruptly, and strode out to the porch.
Cassandra didn’t know what she had expected exactly, but Jay’s mother was very definitely different from what she had imagined. To begin with, although she knew that Lady Fielding was over sixty, she was taken aback by her youthful appearance, and far from fitting the image of the sophisticated society matron, Jay’s mother wore little make-up and dressed without fuss.
But as her mother-in-law got out of Sir Giles’ Daimler, Cassandra immediately saw her resemblance to Jay. Like him, she was excessively dark, although her hair was now threaded with shades of grey, and her features mirrored his determination, even if they were softened by age and experience. Lady Fielding was wearing a casual linen slack suit, pale grey, with a cerise silk scarf knotted at her neck. Her hair was short and straight, like her son’s, and her welcome to him was enthusiastic even if his was slightly less so.
‘Don’t tell me, I know—you didn’t want us,’ she declared, giving him a quick hug before turning to look at Cassandra. ‘And now I can see why. Good heavens, the child’s pregnant! And not too many weeks from her time, if I’m not mistaken.’
‘Cass isn’t a child, Mama. She’s twenty-four,’ retorted Jay flatly, turning to shake hands with his stepfather. ‘Hello, Giles, good to see you. Come along in.’
‘Thanks, James.’ Giles Fielding was a tall spare man, in his early sixties, Cassandra estimated, and rather distinguished-looking. But he had a nice smile, which he bestowed on her as they were introduced, and he decried his wife’s accusation by assuring Cassandra that her ‘interesting’ condition was extremely flattering. ‘I’m sorry if we’ve swooped on you at an awkward time,’ he added, allowing her to precede him indoors. ‘But as soon as Alexa heard the news she couldn’t wait to come and meet you.’
‘The news?’ Cassandra was aware that Jay was also listening to their conversation. ‘What news?’
‘Why, about the baby, of course,’ Lady Fielding interjected, turning to look back at her. ‘That girl we both know so well, James, Liz Lester, she told us. She said she thought we knew, but naturally I took that with a pinch of salt!’
‘Liz?’
Cassandra’s involuntary exclamation made Jay’s mother arch her dark brows. ‘Do you know her, too, Cass?’ she asked in surprise. ‘Well—–’ she looked at her son. ‘I had no idea.’
Cassandra’s brow creased. What did Lady Fielding mean? She had thought Liz’s knowledge of Jay stemmed from the gossip columns syndicated throughout the country, that and the inside information she gleaned from the society parties she was invited to attend. She had only once suspected that Liz’s contempt for her husband might have a more personal basis, but Liz herself had denied it so fiercely, she had dismissed the suggestion at once. Now, it seemed, she had been right to be suspicious of Liz. She had known Jay better than she had pretended. And what of Jay himself? What had their association meant to him? Enough that his mother had met her, thought Cassandra bitterly, feeling betrayed.
They all went into the drawing room to have a drink before lunch, and suddenly Jay was at her side, guiding her determinedly across the room to the tray. When Cassandra would have drawn back, his arm about her tightened perceptibly, and his lips against her ear whispered words she didn’t want to hear.
‘Stop looking as if I’d been unfaithful to you,’ he muttered, his hand at her waist straying possessively over her ribcage. ‘Liz and I once knew each other, that’s all. I didn’t go to bed with her, because it wasn’t that kind of relationship.’
Cassandra found it difficult to speak, but she managed to choke scornfully: ‘Do you expect me to believe that?’
‘It’s the truth.’ Jay was laconic. ‘I’ll tell you about it, if you really want to know. But right now, let’s keep up the pretence, shall we?’
‘How?’ she got out unsteadily, only to feel her heart thudding against her ribs as he bent his head towards hers. ‘Like this,’ he breathed, his mouth parting hers, driving all coherent thoughts out of her head.
‘Well, really, James!’ His mother’s faintly accusing tones brought them apart, Cassandra moving quickly away, her face flushed with becoming colour. ‘Must you make it so obv
ious you can’t keep your hands off her? Good lord, you’re embarrassing the child! Come and sit by me, Cassandra. I want to hear all about this romantic affair.’
‘After lunch, Mama,’ said Jay firmly, handing his mother a gin and tonic. ‘The same for you, Giles? Or has living with Alexa driven you to something stronger?’
‘Don’t be insolent, darling.’ Lady Fielding sipped her drink without evident offence. ‘Giles is quite contented, aren’t you, my sweet? Haven’t you noticed how much weight he’s put on since he retired from politics?’
The conversation continued in this vein until Mrs Temple announced that lunch was served. Lady Fielding had a few words with the housekeeper while she served the meal, and although Cassandra offered to help, Mrs Temple assured her she could cope.
The meal was delicious. Chilled melon was followed by a crisp salad, with a delightfully light quiche and new potatoes. The raspberry mousse was mouthwatering, and Jay’s mother insisted she must be given the recipe before she left, and then they all adjourned to a shady spot in the garden. Mrs Temple had placed several comfortable loungers beneath the apple tree, and a small bamboo table supported the tray of coffee she had left for Cassandra to serve.
‘Don’t you usually rest in the afternoons?’ Lady Fielding asked her daughter-in-law as Cassandra attended to the coffee cups. ‘I mean, it’s a long time ago, I know, but I always had to rest when I was carrying James.’
‘Cass doesn’t need advice from you, Mama,’ Jay remarked impatiently, standing over the two women. ‘Don’t pour me any of that,’ he added. ‘Giles and I will get something stronger.’
‘Yes, why don’t you?’ asked his mother, lying back in her chair and slanting a look up at him. ‘You go and chat with Giles, James. Cassandra and I have a lot of time to make up.’
‘Cass?’
With Jay’s gaze on her, Cassandra was tempted to give in to the almost overwhelming urge to ask him to stay with her. She didn’t want a long, interrogative conversation with his mother. In truth, she wanted nothing so much as to be alone with her husband, but she knew that even if his parents were not here, that was an unlikely event.
‘It’s all right,’ she murmured now, settling herself more comfortably on the lounger. ‘I—yes, you go and have a drink with Sir Giles. Your mother and I will stay here.’
Nevertheless, after Jay and his stepfather had left them, Cassandra couldn’t help wishing she had not been so accommodating. It was so hot, and in all honesty she would have welcomed the opportunity to lie down in her room for a while. She thought there was going to be a storm, and her clothes felt as if they were sticking to her.
‘So—how long have you and James known one another?’ enquired Lady Fielding with frank curiosity. ‘I was so shocked when I learned he planned to get married. He had never mentioned a word about you to me.’
Cassandra folded her hands in her lap. ‘It was—rather sudden,’ she conceded. ‘But—–’ she shrugged, unwilling to go into more personal details, ‘you know how these things happen.’
‘Yes.’ Lady Fielding’s eyes moved consideringly over her. ‘You’ll forgive me if I congratulate you, my dear. I would never have expected James to be trapped by that particular bait.’
Cassandra caught her breath. ‘I beg your pardon—–’
‘Oh, now you’re taking it the wrong way, my dear.’ Jay’s mother shook her head. ‘I’m not criticising you. On the contrary, I’ve wanted James to get married for ages. I mean, he is my only offspring, and I can’t wait to be a grandma. But, if I thought about it at all, I imagined he would marry someone—well, someone a little more sophisticated, shall we say? Someone who wouldn’t gamble that getting herself pregnant would compel him to propose.’
Cassandra gasped. ‘Lady Fielding, I did not—–’
‘My dear, don’t get so upset! You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I was like you once, only for me the gamble didn’t pay off. But don’t try to pretend that James didn’t marry you because you were pregnant. I mean, I may not be much of a mathematician, but even I can add up to nine, and despite the fact that you got married in March, you won’t carry that baby until Christmas!’
Cassandra’s lips trembled. ‘Just because I was pregnant when I got married it doesn’t mean I expected your son to marry me,’ she denied.
‘Doesn’t it?’ Lady Fielding was infuriatingly sympathetic. ‘Oh, Cassandra, don’t look at me like that. I know what James is like. There’ve been dozens of girls angling for your position. Be thankful he decided to honour his responsibilities. In that way, I have to admit, he doesn’t resemble his father.’
Cassandra glanced over her shoulder at the house. She wished Jay would come back. This was worse, so much worse than she had expected, and she was having the utmost difficulty in restraining herself from blurting exactly how she came to be Jay’s wife.
But something, some ridiculous need to protect her husband, kept her silent, and Lady Fielding rambled on unchecked.
‘I don’t suppose James has told you about his father, has he?’ she asked, and Cassandra had to concede that he had not. ‘He was an American, you know. I met him in France just after the war.’ She paused. ‘I was in my middle twenties, and I suppose I was getting desperate.’
‘Lady Fielding—–’
‘No, let me go on.’ Jay’s mother held up her hand. ‘I think you ought to know. You are James’s wife, after all. You should know about the grandfather of the child you’re carrying.’ She sighed. ‘Well, the simple explanation is that he was rich. He came from a wealthy Boston family. Unfortunately, he forgot to tell me he was also married.’
Cassandra bent her head. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yes, so was I.’ Lady Fielding’s lips twisted. ‘I took a chance and I lost. It was only a small compensation to learn that the aircraft carrying him back to the United States had to ditch and there were no survivors.’
Cassandra sighed. ‘I see.’
‘It does have some relevance, you know.’ Lady Fielding’s dark brows drew together. ‘James grew up hating his father for lying to me. I suppose he decided his child was not going to grow up hating him.’
Cassandra had been ready to make some trite response, but in spite of herself, she was stirred by what his mother said. Until then, she had not given much thought to the reasons behind Jay’s determination. She had half believed he had exaggerated the scars he carried. But suddenly she had an insight into how he must have felt, growing up in a society that still abhorred the illegitimate child.
‘I—I suppose it must have been hard for you,’ she volunteered, and Lady Fielding spread her hands.
‘It was. My parents were wonderful, of course, but they had little money and it was a struggle.’
‘Did—did you ever think of—of not having the baby?’ Cassandra had to know.
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ Jay’s mother gave a short laugh. ‘Of course I thought about it. What girl in my position wouldn’t? But believe it or not, I wanted my baby.’ She grimaced. ‘I suppose, deep down, I did care for James’s father. At least I had a son to remember him by. He and his wife had only one daughter.’
It was a tragic story, but not unique for its time, Cassandra guessed. There must have been dozens of thwarted romances between people of different nationalities, different cultures. And although she had not wanted to hear his mother’s story, now she was glad she had; even if it did dispel for ever the faint hope that there had been some other reason for his proposal.
Jay and his stepfather appeared just as Mrs Temple was fetching out a tray of afternoon tea. ‘Well? Have you set the world to rights?’ asked Lady Fielding, awakening from the doze she had fallen into about half an hour before. ‘Hmm, tea! Just what I need, Mrs Temple. And cakes, too. You have been busy!’
Jay’s eyes went straight to his wife, and Cassandra managed to meet his gaze composedly. ‘Are you all right? It isn’t too hot out here for you?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ Cassandra got determinedly t
o her feet. ‘But I’m going to stretch my legs now. Excuse me for a few minutes, will you?’
Jay was waiting in the hall when she came back downstairs, his hands pushed deep into his pockets. ‘Are you really okay?’ he asked, his eyes narrowed and intent. ‘What the hell was my mother saying to you? I could hear her voice droning on and on.’
Cassandra sighed. ‘She was telling me about your father, actually,’ she replied. ‘Don’t worry, she didn’t mention Liz. All she had to say in that connection was that I’d been rather naïve using my pregnancy to make you propose.’
‘What!’ Jay stared at her impatiently. ‘Well, I suppose you put her straight on that score.’
‘I didn’t, as it happens.’ Cassandra hesitated. ‘What does it matter what she thinks? I doubt if she’d have believed me anyway.’
Jay pulled his hands out of his pockets and reached for her: ‘Cass—–’
‘No.’ She held herself away from him. ‘Let me go. I just thought it was none of her business, that’s all. And at least hearing about your father made me aware of what you must have suffered.’
‘Cass!’ Ignoring her pleas to release her, Jay pulled her close to him, the wedge of her stomach warm against his belly. ‘Oh, Cass,’ he bent his head and rested his forehead against her, ‘I’m very much afraid I may not be able to give you that divorce, after all.’
‘Why?’ With the things she and his mother had discussed in the forefront of her mind, Cassandra could only think of one reason. ‘Are you afraid your friends might suspect the truth if I divorce you?’
‘No!’ With a muffled oath, Jay propelled her away from him again. ‘My God, doesn’t any other reason occur to you?’ He shook his head and strode abruptly towards the door. ‘Forget it,’ he muttered. ‘I won’t oppose you. You do what you like, so long as you don’t try to stop me from seeing my son!’
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT was with an effort that Cassandra went outdoors again. She felt too confused, too distracted, to go on as if nothing had happened, and she was glad of Lady Fielding’s inconsequent chatter to hide the gaps in the conversation. Jay avoided her eyes, conducting a desultory exchange with his stepfather, and not until his mother expressed a desire to look round the cottage did he exhibit any enthusiasm.
