‘What do you think of it?’ he demanded as they completed their tour of inspection and returned to the kitchen. ‘It’ll be superb when it’s finished, won’t it?’
She shrugged.
‘I suppose so,’ she said indifferently. ‘I can’t say it appeals much to me right now.’
His face wore an unreadable expression as he looked at her through narrowed blue eyes. But then he seemed to dismiss her opinion as of no account.
‘Oh, well, I don’t suppose it really matters whether you like it or not,’ he remarked. ‘Let’s go and eat.’
The meal he had ordered was excellent. Roast filleted beef cooked in pastry with a black pepper and mushroom sauce, accompanied by sauted potatoes and vegetables and followed by a dessert of lemon soufflé. And somehow they managed to skate lightly over the dangerous depths of their relationship, making polite conversation about business matters, overseas holidays they had enjoyed and various plays and concerts that were showing in Sydney. But after drinking their coffee Richard dropped another bombshell.
‘By the way,’ he said, ‘I’ve invited my mother to lunch on Sunday. I hope that’s all right with you?’
Emma’s hair almost stood on end at this announcement. She had only met Richard’s mother two or three times in the course of their marriage and had always felt that Louise Fielding disapproved of her deeply. But what could she possibly say? She couldn’t refuse to admit Richard’s mother to his own house, could she?
‘Oh, that would be nice,’ she said in a failing voice. ‘Will she be staying long?’
‘Only for lunch and the afternoon. I think it’s time you two got to know each other a bit better.’
When Louise Fielding arrived two days later, Emma was still feeling as if she would like to flee the country under a false name. The small, grey-haired woman who was stumping up the front steps with a walking-stick looked just as formidable as ever. But when Emma came to the door to greet her she was unexpectedly touched to find Louise thrusting a bunch of beautiful white Iceberg roses into her hands as she leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek.
‘I hope you’ll like these, Emma,’ she said. ‘They’re out of my own garden. Richard told me you were very fond of flowers.’
‘Thank you,’ said Emma. ‘That’s very sweet of you. Won’t you come in and have a glass of sherry?’
Yet in spite of the friendly gesture on Louise’s part the conversation over lunch was decidedly strained. Emma, not being a wonderful cook herself, had resorted to using a catering company to produce the meal. The food was very good—thin vegetable soup followed by a savoury chicken and bacon pie with new potatoes and minted peas and an apple crumble for dessert. Yet the conversation was definitely laboured. It was perfectly obvious that Richard hadn’t told his mother the truth about their abrupt and unexpected reconciliation. And Louise was doing her best to pretend that the couple had never been apart. Of course this meant that the past eight years of their lives simply vanished into a black hole and was not available for discussion. The result was that Emma and Louise had a very lengthy chat about greenfly on roses while Richard ate his way serenely through the meal, apparently unaware of any tension. But just as they had finished their coffee the phone rang and he rose from the table and went into the hall. Several minutes later he returned.
‘That was Amanda,’ he announced. ‘There’s an urgent fax in the office from a shipping company in Singapore which she wants me to attend to immediately. I’ll have to leave for an hour or so, I’m afraid. I hope you two can entertain each other.’
He came around the table and kissed them both on the cheek, then left without another word. Emma felt upset at the unexpected interruption. From her own business dealings, she knew that it was all too likely that there was a genuine fax in Richard’s office, but why did the wretched Amanda have to help him deal with it? And why did he have to leave Emma alone with his mother who hated her? Suddenly she became aware of Louise’s bright brown eyes gazing at her shrewdly in a way that made her feel decidedly flustered.
‘More coffee?’ she demanded, leaping to her feet.
To her surprise the sudden movement sent an alarming surge of faintness through her. She stood still, swallowing hard as she felt the room swim disconcertingly around her.
Suddenly Louise was on her feet beside her holding her elbow.
‘Are you all right, Emma? You’ve gone quite green. Here, sit down while I get you a glass of water.’
The older woman limped across to the sink, came back with a glass of water and watched while Emma swallowed it.
‘Thank you,’ said Emma. ‘I’m sorry about that. It’s just the travelling. It always does make me feel a bit sick, but I’m not usually this bad.’
‘What you need is a good rest on the sofa. Go into the little sun-room and have a nap, and later on I’ll bring you some tea.’
An hour later, still feeling rather peaky in spite of her rest, Emma accepted a cup of hot, sweet tea and a couple of shortbread fingers from Louise. Somehow this little act of kindness seemed to thaw the atmosphere between them considerably. Louise sat down in a cane chair filled with deep cushions and flashed Emma an unexpected smile.
‘I haven’t had a chance to say it before,’ she murmured, ‘but I’m really glad you and Richard are back together.’
‘Wh-what?’ stammered Emma. ‘But you never wanted us to marry in the first place, did you?’
Louise gave a short laugh.
‘No, I didn’t,’ she admitted. ‘Although I never had any say in the matter really. You two were already married when I heard about it. And of course that was part of the problem. It hurt my feelings, not being invited to the wedding. Richard did explain to me later that he was afraid I’d try to talk you out of it if I knew what he was planning. And he was probably right, because I certainly would have thought it was a big mistake.’
‘Why?’ demanded Emma, feeling stunned by this emphatic statement.
Louise picked up her own cup of tea and sipped it.
‘Well, in the first place you were too young,’ she said in a forthright tone. ‘And as for Richard, with all the burdens he already had, the last thing he needed was marriage.’
‘What burdens?’ demanded Emma. ‘What do you mean?’
Louise gave her a startled glance.
‘Didn’t he ever tell you?’ she demanded. Then, as Emma continued to look blank, her mother-in-law gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Well, he may be my son, but Richard really is infuriating! Sometimes he’s as secretive and strong-willed and obstinate as a mule. Imagine not telling his own wife!’
‘Telling me what?’ cried Emma.
‘Ask him!’ retorted Louise cryptically.
‘But—’ began Emma.
‘No, no, Emma, don’t cross-examine me about it. Richard’s the one who should tell you, although I’m surprised he didn’t do so in the beginning. Perhaps if you’d known how much pressure he was under you might have waited longer before you married him. If Richard hadn’t been under so much stress and you hadn’t been so immature, I’m sure the marriage would have got off to a flying start.’
‘I wasn’t immature!’ protested Emma.
Louise’s lips curled in a wry smile.
‘Now, don’t fly off the handle, Emma,’ she urged. ‘I don’t doubt that you’ve grown up a lot in the last eight years. The way you handled your father’s business after his death shows that. Richard was so proud of you and I had to agree that you did a really fine job with Prero’s. But I had good reason to be wary of you in the past. If you hadn’t been immature and spoilt, you would never have run off with another man just because you had a silly tiff with Richard.’
Emma’s mouth fell open. Was that what Richard had told his mother about their break-up? A burning rush of indignation filled her at the unfairness of it. How could he be so sly, so hypocritical? Whatever faults he might have had in the past, he had never blamed others for his own mistakes and s
he felt a sharp stab of disappointment at this fresh evidence of his capacity for deceit. Obviously he had twisted the facts to make his mother think that he was squeaky-clean, while Emma was the guilty party. She took a quick, sharp breath to explain, then hesitated. After all, Richard was still her husband, and some odd sense of loyalty made her reluctant to expose him. Instead she simply sighed.
‘There was more to it than that,’ she said ruefully. And then she thought of her extravagance, her ineptitude in the house, the childish tantrums she had thrown when Richard chose to work rather than spend time with her. ‘But I must admit that I made a lot of mistakes. Mind you, Richard wasn’t perfect either.’
Louise’s brown eyes crinkled in amusement.
‘I don’t imagine he was,’ she replied with spirit. ‘He’s always been a difficult man to live with. Quick-tempered, obstinate and unforgiving, which is a dreadful combination! But he loves you, Emma, or he wouldn’t be back with you, and for the same reason I’m forced to believe that you love him. So I wish you both every happiness.’
This was even worse than the discovery that Richard had twisted the facts to blacken her character. Here was her poor, gullible mother-in-law beaming kindly at her in the naive belief that everything was well between the supposedly happily married couple. What a joke!
‘Thanks,’ said Emma bitterly.
Louise began to gather up the tea things with swift, purposeful movements.
‘Well, as I said before, I’m glad you’re back together. I believe marriage is worth working for and now that you’re older and wiser I’m sure that you’ll sort all your problems out. And I might add that I don’t intend to be one of them, Emma. If I can help in any way I will and you’ll always be welcome in my house. Other than that, ‘I’ll simply stay out of your affairs and wish you both all the joy in the world.’
Emma flinched.
‘That’s kind of you,’ she said.
‘No, it isn’t. It’s very selfish. I’m longing to be a grandmother and I’think you and Richard are my best chance. Besides, during the last year or so I’d really begun to worry that he was going to divorce you and marry that awful woman he’s been living with. What’s her name, now? Amanda.’
CHAPTER SIX
EMMA had the nightmare sensation that her tongue had frozen in her mouth and that her legs were paralysed. Oh, she had never doubted that there had been other women in the years which she and Richard had spent apart! But Richard would never have lived with anyone else unless he was very seriously involved… and that hurt. In fact, it hurt so much that for a moment she simply sat motionless, feeling chilled and stricken. Before she could move, the door suddenly opened and Richard entered the room. His lazy smile vanished as he caught sight of her face. In two strides he was across the room and kneeling beside her, taking her hand.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asked in a sharp voice.
Louise snorted.
‘Been working far too hard and far too long if you ask me!’ she said. ‘She had quite a nasty dizzy turn while you were gone and she doesn’t look well to me now. If you take my advice, Richard, you’ll send her to the doctor for a thorough check-up. And for heaven’s sake make her get some rest and relaxation. I’ll be off now that you’re home. No, don’t get up, I’ll see myself out. Goodbye, Emma; I hope you’re feeling better next time I see you.’
As the door closed behind his mother, Richard gazed searchingly into Emma’s face and frowned.
‘Are you ill?’ he demanded.
Emma shook her head. She felt as disorientated as if she had just hurtled over Niagara Falls in a wooden barrel, but she didn’t believe she was actually sick. What she did feel was a sense of betrayal so acute that she wanted to burst into tears and run away. How stupid! How childish! And what a triumph for Richard, if he only knew how much he had the power to hurt her…
‘No, I’m just tired,’ she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
Richard rose from his squatting position and sat on the couch beside her, his long legs extended.
‘You work too hard,’ he reproved her. ‘Miss Matty told me that you often go for sixteen or eighteen hours a day.’
‘So do you,’ retorted Emma.
Richard shook his head gravely.
‘I used to, but not any more,’ he replied. ‘I’ve no intention of being dead from a heart attack before I’m forty, so these days I delegate a lot of my work. And so should you, starting tomorrow. I’ll take you into the new office block so you can see what progress we’ve made moving in, and we’ll organise a new secretary to help Miss Matty. What else? Oh, you’ll need someone to inspect the new building sites—I know just the man for you. A fellow called Ron Bortolli, a fine tradesman and a hard worker, as honest as the day is long. Apart from that, you could really do with more help on the legal side of things. Amanda—’
‘I don’t want Amanda’s help!’ blazed Emma.
Richard looked at her strangely, his blue eyes narrowing and his lips taking on a pursed, thoughtful expression.
‘I was only going to say that Amanda could recommend someone,’ he commented mildly.
‘I don’t want her recommendations either,’ snapped Emma.
Richard gripped her shoulders and twisted her round to face him.
‘What is this all about?’ he said quietly.
Emma was silent for a moment, pressing her lips together. But to her annoyance, when she did speak, her voice was unmistakably wobbly.
‘Louise said you were living with Amanda.’
Richard gave a faint shrug that might have indicated amusement.
‘That’s right,’ he agreed. ‘What of it?’
Emma’s self-control vanished.
‘How can you?’ she choked. ‘I’m supposed to be your wife and you’re calmly sitting here telling me that you’ve been living with another woman! Did you ever think about my feelings? Or hers?’
Richard’s rugged features took on a long-suffering expression, as if he were a patient man tirelessly enduring the unreasonable whims of women.
‘You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Emma,’ he announced. ‘You know perfectly well that there’s a small housekeeper’s flat at the back of this house. Well, Amanda simply stayed there for a few weeks just after I moved here. She had sold her own home and had nowhere else to go until she could get into her new place. But as usual my mother has put two and two together and made five out of it.’
Emma eyed him suspiciously. It sounded like a reasonable explanation, but could she trust him? After all, Louise’s other revelations today had shown that Richard could be very adroit at twisting the truth when it suited him.
‘She said you were likely to marry Amanda,’ she blurted out.
In some subtle way Richard’s expression changed. For a moment he looked calculating and then unmistakably shifty.
‘It’s possible that I might,’ he agreed.
Emma gasped. How could he sit there so calm, so mocking and tell her such a thing?
‘You callous swine,’ she breathed.
‘Do you mean you really care?’ he asked incredulously. ‘Are you still claiming that you love me as you so charmingly told me in Bali? And do you really think I’m gullible enough to believe it?’
The scorn in his voice was so blistering that Emma flinched. Suddenly her misery was swept away in a torrent of hot, vengeful anger.
‘No, I’m not!’ she retorted with biting sarcasm. ‘As you said, telling someone you love him is just part of the sexual game, but it is onry a game. What we’re talking about here is something else. It’s…it’s a question of pride! Love doesn’t come into it.’
Richard’s massive hands tightened so violently on the back of the Windsor chair that for a moment Emma thought the slender slats of wood would snap under the pressure. His blue eyes were narrowed murderously and his teeth were gritted so hard that a muscle was twitching furiously in his cheek. Even the scent that came off him wa
s a hot, primitive blend of leather and soap and raw, enraged masculinity. Instinctively Emma shrank back into the couch, half afraid that she had gone too far in provoking him. Would he take his revenge by wrestling her down into the cushions and showing her in the most blatant way that he still regarded her as his woman, his property? Her heart gave a skip of apprehension at the prospect and yet she was appalled to find a hot, pulsating excitement flooding through her veins as Richard continued to glare down at her. When he gave the chair a violent shove and strode across the room, she felt almost disappointed. Wheeling around like a charging bull, he vented his rage in words.
‘So we have the truth at last,’ he said in a low, menacing voice. ‘We’re back together as man and wife, but love doesn’t come into it for you. Well, it doesn’t for me either, Emma, and since we’re not in love with each other it’s no concern of yours what I do after we part again, nor with whom I do it. All you need worry about is being a proper wife to me in the short period remaining to you.’
‘"Proper wife"?’ echoed Emma. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He scowled at her.
‘That you give me what I want. Passionate sex. Total fidelity. And a proper respect for me as your husband.’
Emma leapt to her feet.
‘Where did you get your law degree?’ she jeered. ‘Neanderthal college?’
He crossed the room in two strides and seized her wrist in a grip that hurt.
‘I’m not joking, Emma!’ he growled, thrusting his face down to hers. ‘You can call me primitive if you like, but there are some things that never change between a man and a woman. And one is that any red-blooded man wants his wife exclusively to himself. You ran away from me eight years ago because you preferred another man and I’ve never forgiven you for it. Well, this time I’m the one with the upper hand and I don’t intend to forfeit it. You’ve come back to me whether you like it or not and, by heaven, you’d better understand that you’re back on my terms. And that doesn’t include jumping into bed with anybody else. Do I make myself clear?’
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