DECEIT OF A PAGAN

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DECEIT OF A PAGAN Page 5

by Carole Mortimer


  'She was—she was ill for several months before she died,' she explained breathlessly.

  'Yes, but what did she die of ?' Rachel persisted.

  Templar sought about desperately in her mind for

  an answer. She could hardly reveal that Tiffany had

  died giving birth to Keri, that would make everything

  she had done so far just a waste of time. 'I—er--

  she ' -

  'I hope you will excuse us, Rachel,' Leon put in smoothly. 'My wife and I will have to go and say good­night to the baby. Will you be all right while we go and see our daughter?'

  'Yes, fine, darling.' Rachel stretched sensuously like a cat. 'But hurry back, won't you?'

  Leon took Templar's arm firmly in his grip as they entered the house together, leading her to her bed­room and not to the nursery as she had expected. He sat her down in the bedroom chair, pinning her to the spot with those piercing blue-grey eyes of his, more grey now with his harsh mood. 'Now,' he began omin­ously, 'I want to know who Tiffany is.'

  'Was,' she corrected him automatically. 'She—she was a friend of mine.'

  'A very close friend, by the sound of it,' he snapped.

  'All right,' she sighed, standing up agitatedly. 'She was a very close friend. Are you satisfied now?'

  'No, I am not!' he said harshly. 'My brother knew a girl called Tiffany. What happened? Did you pass on your boy-friends from one girl to another?'

  Templar paled even more. So Alex had mentioned Tiffany to his brother. It was something she had never thought of, Leon not appearing the sort of man to listen to tales of another's conquests. She would have to go very carefully from now on or she would trip her­self up. 'No, we didn't! It's hardly any of my business if Tiffany and your brother went out together a few times,' she rounded on him angrily. 'But would you mind telling me why you brought that—that woman here? Or do you usually entertain your mistresses in your home? Because if you do I would prefer for the arrangements to be altered. Perhaps you could take her to your apartment. You may not care about the servants gossiping here, but I certainly do!'

  The silence was nerve-racking after her outburst, the only sign that he had heard her at all was the pulse jerking erratically at his jawline. Her nerves tautened even more as the silence continued.

  Finally he spoke. 'So you believe Rachel is my mist­ress?' he bit out angrily, his hands clenched into fists at his side. 'And on what evidence do you base this belief?*

  'You sound like a lawyer,' Templar returned shrilly. *I don't need evidence, Leon. I think your relationship is perfectly obvious. She certainly didn't come here to see me,' she laughed without humour. 'She didn't even realise I was your wife. I suppose I should feel grateful that she even knew you had a wife, even if she did think I was the nanny.'

  'That is hardly surprising, is it!' he said viciously. 'You have the look of a virginal innocent which is totally deceiving. Many women would have taken Rachel's mistake as a compliment.'

  'I'm not many women! And it wasn't meant as a compliment. I've known her too long to be deceived by that sweet sugary smile of hers. She was just trying to make me feel small. And she succeeded,' she added dryly.

  To her surprise Leon smiled, or as near as he had come to smiling at her since he had returned home from work. 'You have no need to feel small. And I am perfectly well aware of Rachel's faults.' His face hard­ened again. 'But I will not allow you to say she is my mistress, it is just not true. She was a friend of Alex's.'

  'Another one!' she burst out. My, that boy certainly seemed to have got around!

  He nodded. 'Another one,' he echoed sadly.

  'But now she's your—friend, right?'

  'Wrong!' he snapped. 'Rachel has been working mainly abroad the last year or so and had no oppor­tunity to offer her regrets at Alex's death. I could do little other than offer our hospitality in the circum­stances, especially as it became apparent that the two of you know each other.'

  'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' Templar muttered stiffly. 'I merely requested that you don't bring your mistresses here. Is that too much to ask?'

  'Rachel is not my mistress!' Leon took a threaten­ing step towards her. 'And you will please be more polite about a guest in your own home.'

  'This isn't my home, I'm merely granted permission

  to stay here! I'm tolerated if you like. But you can't

  force me to be polite to your guest. I don't like Rachel

  Winter, I never have done.'

  'Do not be childish!'

  'But I am, aren't I?' She felt the frustration of being treated like a guest in her own home the last few weeks well up inside her. 'You treat me like a- stranger, you hardly speak to me, you never spend time with me! How can I be other than childish when a child is all I have to talk to all day?' Her voice broke on a sob. 'I hate it here. I hate it!'

  Her husband held himself haughtily erect, looking down at her bent head. 'You knew what it would be like when you married me, when you forced us to live to­gether like this. As to your having no one to talk to, you have Mrs. Harvey and Lucy.'

  'Oh, yes!' Her eyes sparkled angrily as she flicked back her long hair. 'To them I'm the mistress of this house, someone to whom they listen, but don't easily converse with. And to you I'm just an inferior. I had a baby without being married to her father, and in your eyes that makes me less than worthy of your esteemed attention-' she broke off as one long tanned hand flicked out to give her a resounding slap across one cheek. Her hand flew up to her face and she stared at him in horror, tears of pain welling up in her eyes.

  'Oh God!' he swore angrily in his own language, grasping her forearms tightly as she tried to jerk away from him. 'I am sorry, so sorry.'

  Templar shook her head, her cheek stinging pain­fully. 'No, you're not. Just let me go. Let me go!'

  'No.' Leon's voice was deep with emotion. 'Please, Templar! You were saying things that just aren't true and it was the only way I knew to quieten you—well, perhaps not the only way. But I think you would have liked my other method even less.'

  'Wh—what other method?' she sobbed.

  'I have found that kissing also stops hysteria. But I think in our case it might have made things worse.' He tilted her chin gently with his fingers. 'Smile, Templar. Come, smile for me. Or if not for me, for yourself. You are much too beautiful to upset yourself like this.'

  Templar wiped away the tears, tears of shock more than pain, attempting a tremulous smile. 'I'm sorry. I'm not usually so—so emotional.'

  'And I am not usually such a brute. But perhaps you should be more emotional,' he said gently. 'You have had much to be emotional about the last year or so and it is better not to repress these feelings.' He moved away from her. 'Now, are you ready to say goodnight to our little one?'

  Templar nodded, smoothing back her hair. 'I must look a mess,' she said ruefully.

  He wiped a tear away that had escaped his atten­tions earlier and strangely she found his touch pleasant. 'Never a mess, Templar. You are much too beautiful to ever look anything else. And you are puzzling too.'

  'I—I am?' She glanced at him quickly. 'But why?'

  Leon studied her thoughtfully. 'You are something of an enigma. One moment I think I know exactly who and what you are and the next moment I am forced to revise my opinion of you completely. What are you. Templar—innocence or experience?'

  She forced a confident laugh, the mark of his hand starting to fade from her hot cheek. 'A bit of both, I suppose. I have Keri to prove one of them and I'm afraid you'll have to take my word for the other.'

  She saw his face stiffen and the coldness re-enter his eyes until they were that deep grey colour that she hated. But she had to keep him hating her, because she had a feeling that if he should ever change his mind about disliking her she would find it hard to resist him! Very rarely had she seen the charm he could exert, but it had been enough to know that any woman he desired would stand little chance against him. But she would! What was
the matter with her anyway? She hated this man, didn't she? Hated what his brother had done to her sister?

  'If you are quite in control of yourself now,' Leon's words were stilted, 'we will go in to see Keri.'

  Templar didn't bother to answer him, the coldness entering their relationship that had been the normal pattern of their days since their wedding. She walked into the nursery adjoining her room, instantly hearing Keri's contented chuckles. Straight away the sound brought a smile to her face. To see the baby so happy was worth being married to a man she didn't love, could never love, and who would never love her. As long as Keri never had to want for anything again she could bear to live with this cold hard stranger who was her husband.

  She took the willing Keri from Lucy's arms, dis­missing the girl with a smile. 'Hello, poppet. Have you been a good girl?'

  Leon came to stand at her side and Templar thought that anyone looking at the three of them would have thought them ecstatically happy. How wrong they would be!

  As usual the baby glowed when in the company of her now favourite person. It had hurt at first to realise she now took second place to Leon in her daughter's affections, but it was something that couldn't be helped. Keri adored this man who had suddenly appeared in her life, as he surely adored her. To see the two of them together one could almost imagine that Leon was her father.

  Keri put her chubby little arms out towards Leon. 'Da-Da, Dada,' she gurgled.

  Templar sensed rather than saw his probing look in her direction as he took the baby into his arms. 'Did you teach her to say that?' he asked tautly.

  She couldn't tell whether his mood was angry or otherwise and she moved nervously under his intent look. 'I—I—Yes, I did!' She held her head up de­fiantly.

  'Thank you,' was all he said in reply.

  Templar turned away, a huge lump in her throat. His tautness hadn't been due to anger at all but because he was actually moved by Keri's chatter. 'Would you—' she hesitated. 'Would you like to put her to bed while I change for dinner? I won't be long,' she promised.

  She was determined that Rachel Winter shouldn't outdo her. One of the first things Leon had insisted on doing was to buy her lots of new clothes, and she had decided to wear one of the new gowns to dinner this evening.

  'You go ahead,' he said quietly. 'And please—be polite to Rachel. That is not too much to ask, is it?'

  She shook her head. 'No, I suppose not. And, Leon —I'm sorry.' His eyebrows rose enquiringly. 'For act­ing like a bitchy wife,' she explained. 'It isn't like me at all. In fact, I'm not used to acting like any sort of wife. I think that's probably because I don't particu­larly feel married.'

  'But you are,' he said sternly. 'Very much so.'

  'Mm,' she tickled Keri under her chin, evading Leon's eyes. 'We have you to prove that, don't we, mischief?

  'As I told you, it has been easily accepted that Keri is my child,' Leon remarked coolly. 'No one is to know differently. And when she is old enough, we will explain to her that I am not her father. Only to Keri can it ever be important.'

  And will we also explain that I'm not her mother? The question screamed out in Templar's mind. Keri would have to be told about Tiffany one day, she could not be kept in ignorance about her real-mother. But by that time Keri should be old enough for it not to matter if Leon threw her mother out.

  'You're right,' she agreed. 'I'll just go and change and pop back in a few minutes to say goodnight to the baby.'

  'Very well. I will put the little one to bed and then go downstairs and entertain our guest. We cannot leave her alone for too long. I will change myself when you comedown.'

  Templar took her time deciding which dress to wear, nothing too formal but then again nothing too formal. She had to admit that anything would be an improve­ment on the denims and tee-shirt she was wearing. She finally settled on a thin woollen dress in a particularly lovely shade of moss green. Her choice was a good one, the green of the dress bringing out the pure auburn of her hair.

  Leon and Rachel were deep in conversation when she arrived at the lounge, and her presence wasn't noticed for several long minutes. It gave her a chance to observe them without their being aware of it, and no matter what Leon said, Rachel did not appear to be just a friend of his brother. Far from it in fact; the beautiful blonde often touched his arm as she stressed certain points. Templar couldn't hear what they were saying, but it certainly wasn't an impersonal conversa­tion.

  'Good evening,' she said pointedly, before either of them noticed her and thought her to be eavesdropping. ‘I hope I haven't kept you waiting.'

  Leon stood up in one fluid movement, his eyes sliding insolently over her slim body as she squarely met those appraising eyes. It was the first time that he had ac­knowledged in any way that she was an attractive woman. Granted he had said she was beautiful, but it had been in a cold abrupt manner as if he were talking about the weather or something else equally impersonal. The look in his eyes now was one of a man who found her desirable.

  He came forward and kissed her fleetingly on the forehead, tightly grasping her arms as she would have flinched away from him. 'May I say how lovely you are looking tonight, Templar?' His eyes were glacial as he silently warned her to behave herself. He took her arm and led her further into the room. 'Please entertain Rachel while I shower and change. I will not be long.'

  Templar looked after him regretfully. What could she possibly talk to Rachel about? They had nothing in common, they never had. But it seemed that Rachel had no more desire to converse with Templar than she had with her, sitting back with a bored expression on her face. Occasionally she would attempt to stifle a yawn, and Templar found herself becoming more and more angry.

  'So,' she burst out finally. 'What are you doing now?'

  Rachel looked at her with contemptuous blue eyes. 'Working, of course. You must find it terrifically boring being at home all the time. Somehow I never pictured you in the devoted mother role.'

  'I didn't realise you ever thought of me enough to visualise me in any role.' It seemed to her that Rachel only usually thought of herself.

  Rachel smiled languidly. 'I don't, darling. But even so, it is quite surprising. Although I can't imagine Leon allowing his wife to do anything else but stay at home. You must have known Alex too—charming devil, wasn't he? But not as charming as his brother. Leon is perfect, isn't he? The absolute perfect male.'

  'That happens to be my husband you're talking about, Rachel,' Templar reminded her stiffly.

  'Oh, I know that. But that doesn't stop him being the fascinating man he is, and it doesn't stop him seeing me as a beautiful woman.' Rachel's smile was plainly smug.

  'Just as modest as ever, I see,' said Templar dryly. 'You really are in the wrong profession, Rachel. With conceit like yours I'm sure you could have entered something much more lucrative than modelling.'

  Rachel smiled slightly, her beautiful painted mouth pure perfection, and her make-up looking as fresh as if it had just been applied. 'I don't intend staying in modelling for ever. Oh no, Templar, I'm going to be clever like you and marry a rich man. How did you manage that, by the way? I can't imagine how you ever met Leon, you never came to any of those parties the rest of us attended looking for a rich husband.'

  'I didn't need to look for Leon, he found me.' Which was true—he had found her, maybe not in the way Rachel meant, but he had found her.

  'Really?' Rachel enquired sweetly. 'And how long have the two of you been married?'

  'Not long enough,' remarked Leon as he came into the room, walking with long easy strides to Templar's side as if this was how they spent all their evenings. 'Have we, darling?' he smiled down at her.

  Templar flushed under the taunting gaze of the other girl, attempting to smile at her husband. 'No, Leon, we haven't.' She knew Leon had said they were to put on an act in front of other people, but did he have to do it in front of this girl? Rachel was too shrewd to be taken in by an over-show of emotion. 'Was Keri asleep when you came down?'
>
  'Mm,' Leon smiled the completely natural smile that always appeared when he thought of the baby. 'And looking beautiful, like her mother.'

  She bowed her head. 'Thank you.'

  'I only state the obvious,' he said more coolly. 'Shall we all go in to dinner now?'

  Leon insisted on taking Rachel home later on in the evening and left Templar wondering why. Unless, as she had thought, Leon was more interested in the model than as just a friend of his brother. Strangely enough the idea was repugnant to her. If Leon had to have a mistress, as such a virile man as he must surely have,, she dearly hoped it wouldn't be someone she knew, and especially not Rachel. The fact that he might be making love to an unknown woman somehow didn't make it real, but to actually know who it was would be too humiliating. And she could imagine Rachel's glee at putting her in such a position.

  Templar was already in bed and trying to sleep when she heard the soft purr of the powerful engine of Leon's car. Almost one o'clock! It was over two hours since Leon had left to take Rachel home and it didn't take much imagination to know what had happened in the intervening time. She sat up in bed, dragging the bed­clothes up with her. How dared he! How dared he bring that woman here and then spend a further two hours in her company, alone! He was supposed to be happily married!

  She got angrily out of bed as she heard Leon's soft firm tread in the adjoining bedroom, flinging on her silk dressing-gown to march out into the corridor and wrench open the door of his bedroom. She stood in the doorway, her green eyes flashing angrily and her long auburn tresses shimmering far down her back,

  Leon looked up at her5 his eyes narrowing questioningly. He was in the process of undressing, having dis­carded his jacket and partially unbuttoned his shirt, showing the fine mat of dark hairs on his tanned chest.

  He straightened. 'Did you want something, Tem­plar, or is this a social call?'

  Her eyes flashed and she advanced into the room,

  uncaring of her sheer almost transparent clothing.

 

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