Rachel Lindsay - Forgotten Marriage

by Rachel Lindsay

  Sharon clutched the banister and stared at Adam in horror." You're lying."

  "Ask him yourself. I told him weeks ago to tell you, but he didn't have the guts."

  "So you told me, instead. I'm surprised you bothered. Think what a laugh you'd have had if I'd…" Her breath caught on the words. "If I'd married him bigamously."

  "Simon wouldn't do that," Adam answered quietly. "But he might have involved you in a messy court case. And contrary to what you think, I don't want that to happen to you."

  "Naturally." Her voice was like ice. "It would break your mother's heart."

  There was another flash of anger in his eyes, as if she had said something to arouse it again. But when he spoke, no anger was apparent.

  "I'm not your enemy, Sharon. If things were different… if you had…" He shrugged. "I'm sure Simon would have told you about Jane. It was wrong of me to do it for him. But you made me lose my temper."

  "It doesn't matter. It's put things into perspective forme."

  "In what way?"

  "I wasn't completely convinced it was right to marry him. Now I know it isn't." Her desire to hurt the man in front of her spurred her on. "With a bigger allowance from you and a nest egg to look forward to from your mother, why should I bother with the problem of a husband!"

  "Why you…"

  Not waiting to hear the completion of his sentence, she turned and fled.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Not until she was soaking in a warm bath was Sharon able to absorb all she had learned about Simon. But she could not think harshly of him. His deception had been motivated by his love for her, but the deception she'd practised had been motivated solely by gain.

  She stepped out of the bath and, reaching for a towel, saw herself in the mirror. The roundness of her hips, the curves of her shoulders and the swell of her firm breasts told her she was beautiful. But it was a beauty she would never be able to give to Simon, nor to any other man… except one. It was a decision she would have reached in her own good time, but Adam, by disclosing Simon's secret, had precipitated it.

  Expecting a call from Simon that evening, she was tense throughout the silent dinner she shared with Adam; she managed to relax a little when Beryl came in to say he had left a message asking her to go riding with him the next morning.

  "Will you?" Adam asked when they were alone again.

  "No. But I'll go to the stables and see him."

  "He'll probably feel like punching me," Adam said dryly. "I'll have to make my peace with him."

  "There's no need for you apologize to him." Her tone was short.'' He deserved it."

  The following morning, wearing a cream linen dress only a shade paler than her face, Sharon went to meet Simon. If only the next few minutes could be magically erased!

  Simon regarded her in surprise and she shrugged.

  "I'm not going to ride with you. I want to talk to you."

  In silence he restabled the horses and led her to a bench in the garden. They were sheltered by rosebushes from behind, and in front of them a small lily pond glittered in the sunshine.

  "Tell me what I've done," he said.

  "It's what you haven't done." She stared at him, feeling nothing but compassion. "Why didn't you tell me you're married?"

  Colour patchworked his face, making his eyes seem bluer than ever.

  "I was going to. You have to believe that. But I couldn't bring myself to do it yesterday." His colour intensified. "Did Adam tell you or was it Helen?"

  "Adam. But you can't blame him," she said quickly. "You were putting him in an impossible position. He didn't mean to tell me, either, but we had an argument and he lost his temper. He was sorry the minute he'd told me, but by then it was too late."

  Simon lowered his head into his hands.

  "I don't suppose you can forgive me?"

  "Of course I forgive you. But it would have been easier for both of us if you'd told me the truth at the beginning. It wouldn't have made any difference, though. I don't love you and I could never marry you."

  "You weren't so positive yesterday."

  "Because I was upset about something else. I tried to make myself believe it would work, but deep down I knew it wouldn't."

  "I'm getting a divorce. I swear it."

  "It won't make any difference."

  "You're very unforgiving." His tone made it clear he believed her to be angry at his lie. "A person can make a mistake, you know."

  How well she knew it! But she dared not say so.

  "You'll thank me one day, Simon. You deserve a woman who genuinely loves you."

  "Thanks."

  He rose. His fair hair glinted in the bright light and she wondered if the real Sharon Peters would have fallen for him. She liked blond men. Or had she only married Rufus because of his rich family? She was tough and premeditated enough to do that.

  "I won't continue working for Adam," Simon interrupted her thoughts. "I'd better tell him."

  "Don't leave because of me. I won't be staying here much longer."

  "I'll still associate you with this house. That's why I couldn't stay. I have to cut you right out of my mind."

  "Time will help," she assured him and hoped she was right; for then it would also help her.

  Unaccountably depressed, she remained in the garden long after Simon had gone, only returning to the house when it was time for lunch.

  Beryl met her at the front door. "I was just coming to look for you. You're wanted on the telephone.''

  Instantly Sharon knew who it was and she ran to the library to take the call.

  "What the hell are you playing at?" a hard voice demanded. "I told you I wanted some action in two weeks and—"

  "Mrs. Peters has been very ill." Sharon turned her head as she heard a movement in the hall. She recognised Adam's tread and lowered her voice. "I can't talk now. Someone might overhear."

  "Do you think I care!"

  "Let me call you back," Sharon pleaded.

  "Not likely. I'm fed up waiting for you. Come and see me tomorrow morning and bring some good news with you. If you don't, I'll come there and shatter everyone's illusions!"

  "There's no point in my coming to see you. I've nothing more to tell you."

  "Then you'd better work fast. I'll expect you ^morrow!"

  The door opened and Sharon hurriedly replaced the receiver as Adam came in.

  "I, er, had a phone call."

  "There's a phone in the hall" he said.

  "I didn't know this room was sacred to you." She walked past him to the door.

  " Have you seen Simon yet?'' he asked.

  "Yes. It's all over."

  "I'm sorry I had to be the one to shatter your romance."

  "Forget it."

  "You're going to miss your rides in the morning, aren't you?"

  Her smile was bitter. "How do you know I won't miss Simon, too?"

  "I don't think you're capable of missing a man," he said harshly, "only the things he can give you."

  "And you can give me so much more, can't you Adam?"

  She almost asked him there and then to increase the allowance, and only the silent sobs constricting her throat prevented her from doing so.

  "You may ride with me, if you wish," he said expressionlessly. "I go for a canter at seven-thirty."

  "No thanks. I don't want to spoil your pleasure."

  "You won't. Besides, if mother hears you're not riding with Simon, she'll be upset if you don't come with me."

  "Is that an order?"

  "Yes."

  "I can't make tomorrow," she said flatly. "I'm going to London."

  "A date with your South African friend?"

  "Yes."

  "You still won't tell me who it is?"

  "No," she replied, closing the door behind her.

  At ten the next morning Sharon was in the Palace Park Hotel facing the woman she was impersonating. She had left the house an hour before the train for London was due to leave the station, so adamant had she been
not to make the journey with Adam, and her nerves were frayed to breaking point "I have no news for you and my coming here is a waste of time," she stated. "Mrs. Peters was very ill last week and I had no chance to talk to Adam.''

  "She'll have another heart attack if you don't do as you promised. Do you think I like hanging around here, wasting my time?"

  "Talk to Adam yourself," Sharon cried. "You're tough enough to deal with him!"

  " I 'll deal better with his mother."

  "You can't!"

  "You know how to stop me. Get me an assurance in writing that the old girl has put me in her will and that Adam has doubled my allowance."

  "How can I do that?"

  "Ask him! Tell him you want to go back to Africa and buy some property there. If he won't do it, threaten to tell his mother about the sort of man your loving husband was."

  "I can't!" Sharon almost sobbed the words. "I just can't."

  "Then I'll come down and do it myself. You've got till Friday. That's my last word."

  She held open the door and Sharon walked through it, feeling as though she was on her way to the death chamber.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sharon left the hotel in a daze. She had to go somewhere quiet and think; she had to decide what was the best thing to do in the circumstances.

  She moved to the kerb, waiting for a break in the traffic before crossing the road. There was a touch on her arm and she swung around and saw Helen Ferrer, looking unfamiliar in a black town suit.

  "Hello, Sharon! What are you doing in London?"

  "I came to see a friend."

  "The same one you came to see before?"

  "I have more than one friend," Sharon replied evenly.

  "I'm sure you have." Helen smiled sweetly. "How about joining me for coffee?''

  "No thanks. I have to get back."

  "You're not far from the station and you've an hour before the next train. You'll wind up having to hang about and kick your heels on the platform."

  Unable to think of an excuse that would not sound deliberately rude, Sharon nodded. She was disconcerted when Helen turned toward the hotel.

  "Why don't we go to a cafe? " Sharon said jerkily.

  "The hotel's much nicer. Or don't you want to bump into your friend? By the way, is it a man or a woman?"

  "A woman."

  "I'm surprised you didn't tell me you'd forgotten! You seem to find your amnesia most convenient."

  Sharon moved back toward the kerb. "I don't think having coffee with you is a good idea."

  "It's an excellent idea. I've several things to say to you, and I've been waiting for a chance to do so."

  Silently Sharon followed Helen into the hotel, but as the older girl headed for the coffee shop, she found it impossible to do as she wanted.

  "I don't want a drink," she gasped. "Say what you have to say and then let me go."

  "Let you go?" Helen looked amused. 'How like a little girl you sound. You really are a marvelous actress." She moved toward a vacant settee in the lobby and sat down. "What I have to say won't take long."Small white teeth nibbled on her full lower lip. "How much longer are you planning to stay at Green Spinney?"

  "I… I don't know."

  "I want you to leave now. I'll make it worth your while if you do."

  Sharon could not believe she had heard correctly.

  "If I needed money that badly," she said in a shaky voice, "I could do much better by staying on with my… with Mrs. Peters."

  "It's not Mrs. Peters you're concerned with!" Helen almost spat out the words. "It's Adam. Don't think you can fool me. You've fallen for him and you're out to get him."

  Sharon half rose but Helen put out a restraining hand. " You won't get him though. He despises you."

  "Then why are you so scared that you feel you have to offer me money to leave?"

  "Because Adam might just be foolish enough to have an affair with you. He's lusting after you like a-"

  "Stop it!" Sharon's voice rose and a couple of passersby stared at her. Lowering her head, she swallowed hard. "How can you say such things about him?I thought you loved him."

  "I do. But I also know him. He's a sensual, passionate man and you've aroused him."

  "Are you admitting he doesn't love you?"

  Helen's slim shoulders moved disdainfully. "Until you came into his life, Adam was almost sure he wanted to marry me. We have the same interests and the same outlook. My family is a good one and I would make him the right sort of wife."

  "How coldblooded you are!"

  "Because I'm being logical? It's only in recent years that romance has come into marriage. Before that, in our social circle the marriages were arranged."

  "Adam would never want that sort of marriage," Sharon protested.

  "He'd never want your sort, either. That's why he may be prepared to have an affair with you. It's the best way for him to get you out of his system."

  "Why don't you let him do it then?" Sharon decided to head an attack of her own. "Or are you afraid he might not get me out of his system?"

  "Let's say I'm suddenly in a rush to marry him myself. And that won't happen until you've gone out of his life."

  "I'll go when it suits me."

  "You'll go now. This week." Helen looked at the reception desk. "It won't take me long to find out who you're meeting here. You don't think I believe it's a woman, do you? If it was, you'd have told Adam about her, instead of being so secretive."

  "I have my reasons," Sharon murmured, but knew nothing she said now could dissuade Helen from her vicious plan.

  "You have until the end of the week to leave," Helen repeated. "If you're still at the house by then, I'll tell Mrs. Peters the sort of person you are."

  "I'm not meeting a man here," Sharon said, leaning forward. "I swear it."

  "I'll still tell Mrs. Peters the sort of girl her golden boy married. And once she knows that, you can kiss any money goodbye."

  "I don't care about the money,"Sharon cried, quite certain Helen didn't believe her. "If you tell Mrs. Peters about me, Adam will never forgive you."

  "He won't know," Helen said complacently. "All he'll have to go on is a typed letter sent from London."

  Sharon's throat tightened. "An anonymous letter? You… you'd send an anonymous letter? Why you… !" She drew a deep breath to steady herself. "If you did that, I'd tell Adam it was you."

  You don't think he'd believe you, do you? He'd think one of your men friends had sent it.''

  "You're evil," Sharon whispered. "You don't even care that the shock of getting such a letter could kill Mrs. Peters."

  "She's tougher than everyone thinks," Helen said scornfully. "Besides, she's old and she's had her life. Mine's yet to come and I'm tired of waiting. So it's up to you. If you want to protect your mother-in-law, get out." The red mouth twisted. "Once you leave Green Spinney you can do as you like. I don't care if you have a dozen boyfriends or if you've got your memory back and want to go on pretending you haven't. I don't even care if you get Mrs. Peters to leave you all her money. All I care about is Adam." She rose. "That's all I have to say. You know what you must do."

  Alone on the settee, Sharon slumped in her chair. So now two women had ordered her to leave Green Spinney by the end of the week! And of the two threats, Helen's was the one she couldn't parry. Sharon Peters might be persuaded to wait a little longer before achieving her mercenary ambitions, but nothing would prevent Helen from coming back to the hotel to ferret out the truth. Should she ask the South African woman to stay at another hotel? It might put Helen off for a while but inevitably she would uncover something that would lead her to the realisation that the girl at Green Spinney was an impostor.

  The only solution was to tell Adam the whole truth as she knew it, and leave him to deal with his sister-in-law as he saw fit.

  If he wanted to continue buying her silence about

  Rufus and paying for her to stay away from his mother, then the prerogative was his. She realised that now.
She had been foolish in the extreme to act on his behalf. Once she had learned of the real Sharon Peters, she should have confessed her own identity.

  Sighing heavily she left the hotel. Had she not been in love with Adam, there would have been far less difficulty in telling him the truth, but because she still desperately wanted him, she had played for time. But time was no longer on her side. Helen had made that abundantly clear.

  Helen. The name was like a canker inside her. How could anyone with normal human warmth threaten to break an old lady's heart? She was even worse than Adam's real sister-in-law, for the woman had never met Mrs. Peters, whereas Helen had known her—and supposedly loved her—since childhood.

  Still immersed in painful thoughts, Sharon went on walking. She was halfway down Park Lane when a bus drew abreast. Plastered on its side was an advertisement for a West End play, and the name of the star was directly in her line of vision. Tim Jackman.

  Tim! She was reminded of the letter. Why hadn't she tried to find out from Sharon Peters who he was? Without further thought she rushed headlong toward Marble Arch and the nearest tube entrance, where she would find a telephone booth.

  Luckily the woman was still in her room at the hotel, but she denied all knowledge of anyone called Tim.

  "He must be a particular friend of yours," she added. "You obviously knew him well enough to give him your address over here."

  "That means I must trust him. Do you think he's someone I knew at music college?''

  "How would I know? You weren't a friend of mine."

  "You knew me well enough to trust me to come here and take your place."

  There was a momentary silence.

  "How did we know each other?"Sharon asked. "As you just said—we aren't friends."

  "We met at a party." The hard voice sounded slightly placatory. "You were playing the piano there. To earn yourself some cash, I suppose. Your having the same name as me set the ball rolling. I found out you needed money; the rest you know."

  "And I never spoke of anyone called Tim?"

  " 'Fraid not. What did the letter say?"

  "Not much." Sharon was reluctant to divulge its contents.

  "He was probably a boyfriend of yours," the woman said flatly. "You're pretty and I bet you had plenty."