The Second Bride

by Catherine George

  'Do you have another name?'

  'No. Jocasta was more than enough.'

  Rufus surveyed her lazily. 'I think it suits you. Perhaps I'll call you Jocasta from now on.'

  "Then the deal's off,' she said promptly.

  'In which case I'll wait until we're legally married.' Rufus got up. 'Are you working much this week?'

  'No. I've got a fortnight off.' Jo looked up at him ruefully. 'But under the circumstances I suppose I'd better tell Phil I'm not going back at all.'

  Rufus reached down and pulled her to her feet. 'I'm glad you came to that decision by yourself. It's been occupying my mind rather a lot.'

  She smiled. 'How forbearing of you not to pressurise me! But I'm not sorry to give it up. Now I've got the bit between my teeth I want to finish this book before we get married if I can.'

  'Good. I draw the line at a computer in the luggage on our honeymoon!'

  'Honeymoon?' Jo stared up at him in astonishment. 'Is that necessary?'

  'No. But it's customary. For obvious reasons I'd rather our marriage presented itself as the normal kind to the world at large.' Rufus held her by the shoulders. 'Look on a honeymoon as a therapeutic exercise—a means to get used to being married before we actually set up house together. Any preferences?'

  Jo thought it over. 'I'd rather not fly anywhere. I get a bit sick in a plane. It might not be good for the baby.' Her chin lifted. 'And I'd rather not go anywhere you went with Claire, either.'

  'I wouldn't be oaf enough to suggest it,' he said tersely. 'Give me credit for some sensitivity.'

  Suddenly there was hostility in the air. Jo turned away, but Rufus caught her by the shoulders and turned her back to face him.

  'Sorry,' he said shortly. 'Just tell me where you'd like to go and I'll make the necessary arrangements. Think about it for a day or two if you like.'

  She nodded silently, and he bent suddenly and kissed her cheek.

  'Meet me in town tomorrow for lunch, Jo.'

  'But Ï want to work—'

  'Just this once. We need to go shopping. For a ring,' he added.

  Her eyes glittered with dismay. 'Rufus, I don't want a ring!'

  'Possibly not,' he said wearily. 'Nevertheless you're going to have one.'

  Jo stared at him mutinously, then sighed. 'Oh, very well.'

  'I'll meet you outside the lawcourts at twelve. The ring first, then we'll have lunch, and after that I'll leave you in peace for a day or two. If that's what you want.' He waited, almost as though he expected her to contradict him. When she didn't Rufus turned abruptly and went to the door. 'Goodnight, Jo.'

  'Goodnight,' she said, so forlornly that he came back to her, took her in his arms and kissed her swiftly on the mouth.

  'Goodnight again, Jocasta Fielding. Sleep well.'

  Then Rufus was gone, and Jo, more comforted by his kiss than she would have liked him to know, went to the telephone to ask her mother's advice on what to wear for Rory Grierson's wedding and to give answers to all the questions Rose Fielding hadn't been able to ask in front of Rufus.

  Later, in bed, Jo came to the conclusion that things could be a lot worse. Rufus had met with her mother's unqualified approval, the green dress, with the purchase of a smart hat, was deemed perfectly suitable for Rory Grierson's wedding, and, all things considered, decided Jo, marrying Rufus was a prospect which grew dangerously more attractive by the minute.

  If only. . . She clamped down on her thoughts savagely. It was pointless to wish for the moon. She knew perfectly well that Rufus was marrying her purely for the baby's sake. While she was marrying him for the simple reason that she loved him more and more each day. Baby or no baby.

  CHAPTER SIX

  By the time Jo arrived in town to meet Rufus next day he was pacing up and down, glancing at his watch. His face cleared as she dashed up to him.

  'Hey, slow down! Where've you been?'

  'I was working and forgot the time,' she said breathlessly. 'I had to rush to make myself presentable.'

  'You look good, Jo—positively blooming.' Rufus took her by the elbow to walk through the gardens towards the shops in Broad Street. 'I've already been to Fournier's. They've got a selection of rings ready for you.'

  'I don't want anything too showy,' she warned. 'A ring of any kind makes me feel—well, fraudulent.'

  Rufus stopped near the central fountain, and took her by the hands. 'Jo, this is for real. All of it.' He smiled down into her troubled eyes. 'Don't look like that. In time you might even like being married to me.'

  She smiled. 'Stranger things have happened, I suppose. It's just that everything's such a rush.'

  'Once we're married you can relax,' he promised. 'Now let's go shopping. And, just in case you were wondering, Claire's ring came from a London jeweller.'

  Grateful for his perception, Jo entered into the spirit of the purchase with more enthusiasm, and half an hour later her small brown hand wore an antique gold ring set with green tourmalines interspersed with diamonds.

  'You should have had the emerald,' said Rufus as he hurried her from the shop.

  'I preferred this one,' said Jo, admiring it, then realised they were crossing the road towards his car. 'Where are we going for lunch?'

  'To my parents' house,' he said, thrusting her in the passenger seat.

  'But —'

  'No buts, Jo. I knew you'd argue if I told you sooner. Mother wanted to make it a celebration dinner tonight, but I'm due in London later this afternoon, and I'll be away for most of the week, so lunch it is.'

  Afterwards Jo was glad she'd had no time to be nervous, since both Griersons were kindness itself to her over lunch at their comfortable, conventional house on the outskirts of Pennington. They gave Jo a warm welcome, and made it clear they thought their son's choice of a second wife the most natural thing in the world. They mentioned Claire without constraint, and complimented a guilty Jo on her sensitivity in refusing to announce the engagement sooner in deference to Claire's memory. After only a short discussion of wedding plans Rufus rushed Jo away again soon after the meal. He gave his departure for London as an excuse, and promised his mother they'd linger as long as she liked on their next visit.

  'I won't come in,' said Rufus, when he drew up in Bruton Road. 'I would have postponed this London trip if I could, but with the honeymoon coming up I thought I'd better get it over with. Come to a decision yet?'

  Jo nodded. Because their honeymoon wouldn't be the normal arrangement of two people wanting to spend as much time alone together as possible, she'd had a brainwave in the night. 'I'd like a plush London hotel for a long weekend, with trips to theatres and art galleries and so on. The family holiday was usually a cottage near a Welsh beach, and otherwise I had just the one holiday with Claire and her family in France. The bright lights rather appeal.'

  'Done,' he said promptly. 'I'll organise it while I'm up there. Any particular plush hotel?'

  She shook her head, smiling. 'You choose.'

  'What an amenable little wife you're going to be!'

  'Don't count on it!'

  Rufus reached out to flip a finger across her cheek. 'Take care while I'm gone. By which I mean eat something at intervals while you're glued to your computer.'

  'I won't be. Mother's coming for a day or two tomorrow. More shopping,' said Jo, resigned.

  Rufus felt in his pockets and produced a key. 'In that case why not take her to Beaufort Crescent and show her over the house?'

  Jo beamed at him. 'Why, thank you; she'd love that.' She hesitated. 'Rufus, thank you for the ring. It's beautiful.'

  'Which reminds me.' He looked at her in silence for a moment. 'Don't take this the wrong way, Jocasta Fielding, but this shopping of yours—does it involve a wedding dress of some kind?'

  'Of course it does. Why?'

  'Since it's my fault you need one, would you let me foot the bill?'

  Jo stiffened. 'Absolutely not.'

  Rufus reached out a detaining hand as she turned to get out of t
he car. 'My offer was well intentioned, I swear. Take heart. I'm a quick learner. I never make the same mistake twice.'

  Jo's eyes took on a feline glitter as she gave him a smile as sweet and cold as a sorbet. 'I'll take good care to see you don't.'

  His answering smile was tigerish. 'If you're referring to my hopes about the exact nature of our future relationship, as I always say, Jo—never refuse a request before it's made.'

  Jo's eyes flashed dangerously, and without another word she got out of the car and hurried up the path to the house, grinding her teeth in fury as Rufus drove away before she even reached the door.

  Surprisingly, the biting little exchange had no effect on her creativity. Jo spent the rest of the day in front of her computer, elated to find that she was only days away from finishing the first rough draft of her novel. Later that evening, when protesting muscles forced her to stop at last, Jo was on her way to a hot bath when the telephone rang.

  'Jo?' said Rufus.

  'Yes.'

  'Are you still angry with me?'

  'Of course not,' she said airily. 'I never gave it another thought.'

  'I'll make a note not to offer you money again.'

  'And I promise not to keep reminding you that this marriage is purely an agreement on paper,' she countered.

  There was silence for a moment. 'So now that's all cleared up,' he went on at last, 'did you manage to get some writing done this afternoon?'

  'I certainly did. I got on like a house on fire. I worked late to make up for my day off tomorrow when Mother's here.'

  'Give her my regards, Jo.'

  'I will. She's going to help me choose a hat for your brother's wedding.'

  'Don't get too tired.'

  'I won't. In any case I think the swollen-ankles bit happens later on, not at this stage.'

  'Still no morning sickness?'

  'No. In fact,' added Jo, 'I don't feel pregnant at all yet. Perhaps I'm not, and all your arrangements are unnecessary after all.'

  'I'm sure you'll inform me if that's the case.'

  'Of course. Not much point in getting married if there's no baby,' she said acidly.

  'Quite so,' agreed Rufus at his driest. 'I'll ring you when I get back, Jo. Goodnight.'

  Rose Fielding stayed only one night with Jo, sympathetic with her daughter's eagerness to get on with the novel while it was going so well. Their shopping spree was very successful. Mrs Fielding bought Jo a dress in pale, muted pink, bias-cut from pure silk crêpe, and flatly refused to let her daughter see the price tag. She insisted Jo splurge her own money on the hat, a wide-brimmed natural straw with a cluster of pink silk roses rioting over the brim. Jo couldn't resist the extravagant confection, despite the price, but chose a plain straw boater with green ribbons to wear to Rory's wedding.

  'Pity I couldn't have worn the same hat to both,' she complained as she settled the bill.

  'No, Jocasta Fielding, definitely not!' Mrs Fielding chuckled. 'I can just see Thalia's face if you did that.'

  'No doubt the heavenly twins are turning up in designer gear from head to toe?' asked Jo as, feeling very pleased with themselves, they ate lunch together in the department store's restaurant.

  'Probably. They were both wild with excitement at the news, though I fancy Thalia thought senility had finally overtaken me when I said you were marrying Rufus.' Rose looked at her daughter searchingly. 'Darling, that's an exquisite ring, and Rufus made all the right noises the day you came to lunch, but would you be marrying him if you weren't pregnant?'

  Jo made no attempt to lie. 'No, I wouldn't. But he's always wanted a family, which is why Claire went through hoops to try and provide him with one. For my part I would have done without a husband, but Rufus wants his child to grow up in the same house as both parents. It's a great house, Mother; we'll go and see it when we've finished here.'

  'Was the house a deciding factor, then?' asked her mother in amusement.

  'It helped. So in three weeks, much to my astonishment, I'm marrying Claire's husband. A bit hard to believe at times.'

  Rose coughed delicately. 'If it's so hard to believe, how did you come to get pregnant in the first place?'

  Jo flushed. 'In the usual way.' Not even to her mother could she confess that she'd been hopelessly in love with Rufus all along.

  Jo had dreaded Rory Grierson's wedding service, and relaxed only when it was over.

  She released her grip on Rufus' hand as the wedding party moved down the aisle, and smiled at him in reassurance when he bent to peer under the brim of her boater.

  'All right?' he said in an undertone, and she nodded.

  'Yes. Though I'm glad we're having a civil ceremony, not all this.'

  'I did wonder if you minded about that,' he said in her ear as they followed the others out of the church. 'We could just as easily be married in church.'

  'No! I'd much rather not.' Jo shivered despite the sunshine as they merged into the crowd. It had been a poignant moment when Rory and his Susannah promised to love and cherish each other until death parted them. It had parted Claire from Rufus with such indecent haste.

  The reception was in a large marquee in the garden of the bride's family, and Jo was congratulated by several people anxious to express their pleasure over the fact that Rufus was about to marry again. But the day was by no means the ordeal Jo had expected. Claire's wedding breakfast had been in the ballroom of a London hotel, very formal and correct, with a master of ceremonies and a string quartet, whereas Susannah's was an informal family party, with children running everywhere, and once the speeches were over the bride and groom circulated among their guests, spending time at every table.

  When they paused to talk to Rufus and Jo, both Rory and his radiant, euphoric Susannah made it gratifyingly plain that they were glad she was marrying Rufus.

  'He's had a rough year, and yours must have been pretty much the same, Jo,' said Rory, who was a younger, stockier version of his brother. 'I couldn't have been more pleased when I heard you two had got together. Welcome to the family.'

  It was impossible not to respond to the couple's warm sincerity, and Jo smiled and thanked them for their good wishes.

  'Once Rory and Susannah leave we can do the same,' Rufus said as the couple moved on to the next group of guests. 'How are you coping?'

  'Quite well. I rather dreaded meeting so many of your family.'

  'Why?'

  'Because the last time I met them was at your wedding,' she reminded him. 'No one mentioned that, of course, but I could tell it struck most people the moment they laid eyes on me.'

  'You're not the type people forget, Jo. I like the hat, by the way.'

  'Thank you.' She smiled up at him. 'Would you believe I had to buy two hats? Mother wouldn't let me wear the same one to both weddings.'

  Rufus grinned. 'Such a passion for economy augurs well for your housekeeping.'

  Jo chuckled. 'Wait to experience it before you get too excited.'

  His eyes met hers with meaning. 'It would be an unnatural man who didn't get excited at the prospect of marrying you, Jocasta.'

  'What on earth are you saying to make the poor girl blush like that?' demanded Mrs Grierson. 'Come on, you two. Rory and Susannah are just off. I've brought you some confetti, Jo.'

  Once all the rice and confetti had been thrown at the protesting pair, and the car had moved off down the road, trailing old boots and silver balloons, Rufus took Jo to say her goodbyes to the bride's parents, then paused for a few minutes' conversation with his father while Mrs Grierson took Jo aside and asked if there was anything she could do to help with the next wedding arrangements.

  Jo thanked her future mother-in-law warmly, told her everything was in hand, then passed on an invitation to lunch at Willowdene Lodge to meet Rose Fielding.

  Mrs Grierson gave her a delighted little hug. 'How lovely. Thank your mother very much, my dear. I look forward to meeting her again.'

  In the house in Beaufort Crescent later, with a striped butcher
's apron over her green dress, Jo cooked the promised chicken cacciatora for Rufus, who came down to offer his help once he'd changed his wedding formality for a cotton sweater and jeans.

  'Just talk to me while I cook,' she said, pounding garlic and rosemary together while chicken breasts browned in a skillet.

  'I should have taken you out for a meal, not let you slave over a hot stove after all the nervous strain today,' said Rufus as he laid the table.

  'I much prefer an evening in.' Jo added some wine vinegar to the pan, then dodged away as it hissed. 'I'm glad I went to the wedding. It was a very relaxed, happy occasion—once the church service was over, anyway.'

  'I saw you flinch at the "death us do part" bit,' he said quietly. 'At least you won't be required to say that.'

  'Good.' Jo sprinkled herbs and garlic over the chicken, seasoned it, and asked Rufus for a glass of the wine he was opening.

  'Thirsty?'

  'No. It's to go in the chicken. Then I put a lid on it and leave it for half an hour while I make a green salad.'

  Rufus breathed in the aroma with pleasure. 'I thought you were a no-nonsense cook, Jo.'

  'I am. My repertoire is very limited, I promise you.' She stood back as the wine sizzled in the pan, waited for a while to let the alcohol burn off, then turned the heat down low and put the lid on. 'Perhaps you'd better buy me a cookery book for a wedding present.'

  'I've already bought you a wedding present,' he informed her.

  Jo turned sharply, her eyes wide with consternation. 'I was joking! I don't need a present, Rufus.'

  'I know that. You're a very undemanding bride. But I think you'll like this one. We can go upstairs and inspect it after dinner.'

  Wondering what she could present Rufus with in return, Jo put a salad together, made a dressing for it, then cut bread and took butter from the fridge. Rufus put them on the table, then lit the candles he'd set out earlier.

  'Nice touch,' said Jo, and smiled at him. 'Adds a festive note to my no-nonsense menu.'

  Rufus ate the meal with such flattering relish that Jo relaxed and enjoyed it herself as they discussed the events of the day.