by Penny Jordan
One of the women, more stupid than the others, gushed nervously, ‘Sir Jake… Goodness, it must feel funny for you coming here… after all, it is your old home.’
Someone giggled nervously, and one of the men coughed in embarrassment. Jake smiled benignly at her, concealing his irritation.
‘It’s a very long time since I lived at Fitton Park,’ he said easily, and then, turning to Gloria Pilling, added, ‘I must congratulate you on what I’ve seen of the house. You’ve worked wonders achieving so much in such a short time.’
Gloria smiled coolly.
‘Actually my daughter is responsible for most of it.’ She gave a brittle laugh as though the admission didn’t please her, and added disparagingly, ‘I had to recoup something on the exorbitant fees of the finishing school she attended. Fortunately they included a fine arts appreciation course in the curriculum, otherwise the whole time there would have been a complete waste. Beth is so unsociable as to be positively gauche.’
Jake had to suppress a strong desire to tell her exactly what he thought of her cruelty to her daughter. The sooner he could get Beth away from her mother, the better, he decided grimly, accepting a cup of tea, and sitting down beside his hostess.
Gloria was celebrating Christmas with a magnificence that the Cheshire County set had long since abandoned… All she needed to complete the picture was a group of deserving poor to patronise, Jake reflected, watching her on Christmas morning as the Fitton Park party gathered outside the village church.
It was a cold, crisp day and Gloria was swathed from head to foot in Russian sables. The vicar and his family had been invited to join the other guests for Christmas dinner, and Jake watched the interplay between Gloria and her attendants with grim cynicism.
She was a very wealthy woman, there was no doubt about it, and he wondered how long it would take her to realise that, no matter what she did, she would never truly be accepted here. He also wondered how long it would take her to grow bored with Fitton Park, and what would happen to it when she did. He shrugged the thought aside. What did it matter? Fitton Park was no longer his concern.
The frustration of not being able to see Beth alone for more than half a dozen minutes at a time was beginning to get to him.
Gloria kept her daughter busy, treating her abominably, forever making her fetch and carry while loudly disparaging her to her friends, and more than once Jake’s eyes had kindled at her behaviour.
However, much as he longed to intercede on Beth’s behalf, he knew that to do so would upset her.
On Christmas Day he managed to find enough time alone with her to present her with his ring.
She cried a little as he slipped it on to her finger, and made him promise to say nothing to her mother until the night of the New Year’s Eve ball.
‘What is it you’re so afraid of?’ Jake asked her gently. ‘She can’t physically keep us apart, you know.’
‘No… but I’m afraid that somehow she’ll destroy what we feel for one another.’
‘I’ve got a month’s leave,’ Jake told her quietly. ‘Plenty of time to get a special licence.’
He had already decided that when he returned to London it would be with Beth as his wife, but he wanted to give her time to get used to the idea. He suspected that Gloria would oppose their marriage simply because it was what her daughter wanted.
Beth gave him a pair of gold cuff-links embellished with the Fitton arms. He kissed her in thanks, not wanting to let her out of his arms.
Her perfume seemed to cling to his skin at night, making him ache unbearably to have her with him.
Gloria’s New Year’s Eve ball was to be like no other party that anyone in Cheshire had ever thrown, and that included the Duke and Duchess of Westminster. She had played shamelessly on Jake’s name, using it as a net to catch the kind of guests she wanted.
The ball was to be masked, and Beth told Jake that her mother had spent a fortune on her outfit, having it specially designed in London.
Oddly, Beth’s costume was that of a demure Puritan girl, and Jake wondered if it was more than mere fancy that had led to him picturing her so dressed.
She came to his room after she was dressed, standing uncertainly in the doorway while he surveyed her.
She looked so ethereal… so fragile… so innocent… the lace collar revealing the perfection of her skin, the dark velvet of her dress and its simple style enhancing her quiet beauty… He wondered if she knew how much the demureness of her gown incited him to remove it from her body and to lavish her silken skin with the attentions of his hands and mouth.
‘Being very brave, aren’t you?’ he teased her, drawing her into the room so that he could close the door, but she stopped him, shaking her head.
‘It’s Mother… she sent me to ask you to go to her room. She said there was something she wanted to discuss with you.’ She chewed worriedly at her bottom lip. ‘You don’t think she’s guessed… about us… do you?’
‘Does it matter if she has?’ Jake asked evenly, suddenly tired and angry. ‘Oh, God, Beth… this is ridiculous. I want you as my wife, and I’m not leaving Fitton without you,’ he told her roughly. ‘Forget your mother. I want to marry you, Beth… I want to spend time with you before I go back to South America.’ And then, even though he despised himself while he was doing it, he added grimly, ‘Who knows? It may be all the time we can have.’
She went white, and he hated himself for what he was doing to her and almost called back the words. He was as bad as her mother… worse… but he recognised that Beth would always need someone else to make her decisions for her… to coax and chivvy her. If he hadn’t been so sure that she loved him, if he hadn’t known that her life with him would be so much better than the life she had here at Fitton Park, he doubted that he could have done it. As it was…
‘Tonight I’m going to tell your mother that we’re engaged,’ he told her. ‘If she objects, then when I leave here tomorrow you’re coming with me.’
Her mouth trembled as she looked at him.
‘If you’re sure that’s what you want.’ And then she said huskily, ‘Oh, Jake, I don’t want to be a burden to you. I wish I could be stronger… more mature. I do love you… I do want to be your wife…’
She was crying, and he kissed her tears away, fighting not to give way to the fierce desire pulsing through his blood.
‘Mother’s waiting…’ she reminded him guiltily, easing away from him. ‘She’ll be wondering where you are.’
He had no idea what Gloria wanted him for. Probably to remind him what she had bought when she’d paid him that extra fifty thousand pounds, he reflected grimly as he made his way to her suite of rooms.
She was occupying the bedroom which had always been the master bedroom; and as he knocked and was admitted by Lucy, Jake grimaced at the unsuitable lavishness of the room’s décor.
Every piece of furniture in her sitting-room seemed to be coated with gilt; every chair over-stuffed and overburdened with chintz. The floor was covered in pastel carpet inches deep, and the whole effect of so many rococo gilt mirrors, so many over-trimmed French chairs, so much chintz, all ribboned and ruched, was overpowering.
But not as overpowering as the woman who stood framed in the doorway to the bedroom behind the sitting-room.
‘You can go, Lucy,’ she dismissed the maid.
When the door closed behind her she studied Jake. He was wearing a dinner suit and not costume; there had been a costume provided for him, that of a Regency Rake, but he had rejected it, preferring the comfort of his own familiar clothes.
Now he saw with the beginnings of speculative unease that Gloria was wearing a high-waisted, sheer fabric gown of the Regency period, her hair caught up in a vaguely Regency style.
Diamonds glittered at her ears and throat, and as she moved into the sitting-room he saw that beneath the dress her breasts were clearly discernible.
She saw him looking at her and smiled acidly.
‘It was the fash
ion. Ladies dampened down their muslins to show off what they weren’t wearing underneath.’ She looked sharply at him. ‘I see you aren’t wearing your own costume…’
As she spoke she came towards him, saying casually, ‘I’ve been thinking, Jake: a house like Fitton needs a son to inherit it, and as yet I only have a daughter. I’d like another child, a son, and I can’t help thinking how appropriate it would be were that son to be yours.’ She was looking straight at him, and he must have managed to conceal his shock. This was the last thing he had been expecting.
‘I’d like you to stay on at Fitton for another week… I think that should be sufficient time, don’t you?’ She saw his face and smiled cruelly. ‘It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? The reason you’ve been paying so much attention to my daughter…?’
She laughed at him again. ‘Oh, come on, Jake, surely you didn’t believe I hadn’t noticed? You’ve hardly been very subtle. I suppose I should have expected it… after all, it’s an ideal opportunity for you to regain Fitton Park, isn’t it?
‘Only I’m not that much of a fool… when Beth marries it will be to a man I choose for her…’ She smiled mirthlessly. ‘Poor Beth… I hope she isn’t too desperately in love with you, but I suppose she must be… How amusing it will be if you make us both pregnant. Of course, it will be my child who inherits Fitton Park, not Beth’s, and of course, if you’re thinking of refusing me, then I must warn you that I shall simply find someone else to take your place… but there’s no need for pretence between us, is there? You can’t really have wanted Beth. She’s such a dull, plain little thing… probably still a virgin, too…’
She came so close to him that her body was touching his.
‘Think about it, Jake. Your son could inherit Fitton Park, and my wealth as well.’
He was already pushing her away, his face mirroring his disgust.
‘I love Beth,’ he told her bitingly. ‘I fully intend to marry her and I don’t give a damn what you do with Fitton Park!’
He saw that he had shocked her.
‘You can’t love her…’ She was almost stammering. ‘No man could love Beth… she’s so ordinary…’
‘Not to me,’ Jake assured her. For the first time in his life he had come close to wanting to physically hurt a woman. Her scent filled the room, cloying and dizzying… the hot, rich scent of roses. It nauseated him, and he longed to breathe the fresh, clean perfume that was Beth’s warm skin.
Gloria was furious… temper spots burned on her cheeks, hatred glittering in her eyes… and Jake recognised instantly how much she hated her daughter.
This proposition of hers had nothing to do with the desire for a second child, not even with any desire for him as a man. What she wanted was to hurt and destroy Beth. No wonder Beth feared her.
He turned for the door, but suddenly she moved, whirling round in front of him, taking hold of his jacket, clinging to him, her avaricious, hot kiss burning his mouth.
As he wrenched himself away, disgusted by the scent and taste of her, he heard her saying feverishly, ‘Jake… Jake… at last… my darling… it’s been so long…’
And as he stared at her he heard a small, stifled sound behind him. He turned round.
Beth was standing there in the open doorway, all the colour gone from her skin.
‘Beth, darling… when will you learn to knock?’ Gloria was purring… her hand touched Jake’s face possessively, but he dashed it away, totally ignoring her as he turned to Beth.
‘We’re leaving,’ he told her quietly. ‘I’ll come with you if you want to get changed, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t bring anything with you from here…’
And then he turned to Gloria and said fiercely, ‘I love Beth, and I don’t give a damn about this place or your money. You want a son for Fitton… well, go ahead and have one. The children Beth and I have will know riches that no child of yours will ever experience.’ And then, taking hold of Beth’s hand, he almost dragged her down the corridor, not stopping until they had reached his own room.
Once there, he held her firmly and demanded, ‘Don’t let her hurt you, my darling, because that’s just what she wants.’
Beth’s hand touched his face, her fingers coming away stained with her mother’s lipstick. Jake rubbed violently at the spot with his handkerchief.
‘God, she’s loathsome. That scent…’
Beth’s calm broke… her body shook with sobs.
‘Take me away from here, Jake,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘Just take me away. All this time I thought that underneath she did love me… but I was wrong…’
‘She’s incapable of loving anyone,’ Jake told her roughly, but Beth shook her head in sadness.
‘No… it must be me… something in me…’
‘No,’ Jake denied grimly, ‘don’t blame yourself for her inability to feel normal human emotions, my darling…’ His hands shaped her face, smoothing the hair back against her skull.
‘Do you really love me?’ Beth begged uncertainly.
His heart ached. How long would it be before the uncertainty fostered by her mother could be erased? How long would it be before she recovered her self-confidence… her belief in herself and in him?
‘You know I do,’ he whispered against her mouth.
Gloria Pilling’s New Year’s Eve ball was the talk of Cheshire, all right, but not for the reasons she had intended.
It was the sight of their hostess appearing at the top of the stairs, screaming like a fishwife as Jake Fitton and Beth walked away from her, that was the memory everyone there would carry away with them, and spread, suitably embellished, until the Cheshire plain rang with amused speculation about the affair.
Jake and Beth were married by special licence five days later.
Until they were married, Jake left Beth in the care of his good friends Tom and Annie Rogers.
Beth took to Annie right away, and Annie told her husband wryly that she hoped Jake knew what he was doing.
‘She’s like a child, in so many ways,’ she said sadly. ‘Jake’s turned twenty-eight now, and she’s not quite nineteen. I wonder if he realises all that’s going to mean. He loves her, I know, and she loves him, but she will never be able to meet him on equal ground… she will always be in need of his care… his protection…’
‘Some men want that kind of relationship,’ Tom pointed out to her, but Annie shook her head.
‘Not Jake… he’s too mature… too well rounded as a human being.’
Tom grimaced at her.
‘I thought you liked Beth.’
‘I do, and I feel desperately sorry for her… Maybe things will change… Now that she’s free of her mother, maybe she’ll start to mature…’
They had three blissful weeks together which they spent in Scotland at a small crofter’s cottage that belonged to a friend of Tom’s.
It snowed the first night they arrived and went on snowing almost all week… They weren’t quite snowed in, but the delicious pleasure of imagining that they were, of pretending that they were cut off entirely from the rest of the world, safe and secure in this small house with its open peat fires, its low-eaved bedroom and old-fashioned high bed covered in linen sheets that smelled faintly of heather, added an extra intensity to their happiness.
They went to bed early, although it was some days before Jake was able to persuade Beth to make love with him as he had wanted to at Fitton, in front of the fire, with its light playing over their bodies, her skin so pale and delicate, his so much darker.
Watching him as he made love to her, Beth could only wonder that he should want her. She touched his skin tentatively, unable to accept still that he was hers. When he loved her he was so passionate, so male and yet so tender, never rushing her, never taking his own pleasure greedily. And as her face registered her awe and pleasure in his possession of her, Jake acknowledged a little sadly that with Beth he could not, as he might have done with another, more robust woman, admit how he had gained the skill that was giving he
r so much pleasure.
Beth’s self-confidence was so frail, her dependence on him so great, that to know that another woman had given him the knowledge to pleasure her so that her body twisted against his in silent ecstasy would torment her, and she would never be, as another woman might have been, amused and entertained by his description of his so much younger and more naïve self.
It took him almost all the second week to convince her that there was nothing all that shocking about making love in the daylight, and most of the third to persuade her to caress him as intimately as he caressed her.
When the time came for them to return to London he was conscious of how vulnerable she was going to be without him… Too vulnerable, perhaps.
She had readily accepted the necessary change in their identity and had assured him that she was quite happy to play that role, but as he left her in the doorway of his London apartment he ached to have more time to spend with her.
For the first few months of their marriage he spent more time in South America than he did in London… Slowly he was being permitted to know more about the organisation, but, frustratingly, he acknowledged that he was still far from discovering the identity of the small nucleus of people responsible for shipping the drugs from Colombia into London.
And then he had an unexpected piece of luck… His contact had grown confident and careless, and had permitted Jake to meet him in his office… After all, what did a member of such a successful organisation as this have to fear from the Colombian police force? In Colombia men such as himself were respected and feared, as he boasted to Jake, when Jake purposely marvelled at his careless disregard for the authorities. The man was very unimportant, vain and arrogant, but he was Jake’s most important contact, and when the phone rang in his office and his voice changed from the arrogant confidence with which he spoke to Jake to a cringing, fawning subservience, Jake moved away from the phone but continued to listen.
No names were mentioned, but he heard his contact repeat an address. He himself memorised it, and when the call was finished the man turned to him and said hurriedly, ‘I have to go out… on business. I will see you tomorrow.’
