Bought with His Name & the Sicilian's Bought Bride

by Penny Jordan

  The cream cake she had consumed at Fortnum’s at Lucy’s instigation sat rather heavily on her stomach. She had felt queasy on waking again as well, she remembered uneasily—then a sudden horrified dread almost toppled her into the nearest chair.

  ‘Are you all right, Genista?’ Lucy questioned worriedly. ‘You don’t look well at all.’

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ Genista was quick to reassure her. ‘I just felt a little bit queasy—that cream cake, I think.’

  If only she could believe that that was true! It seemed impossible that the dread lying at the back of her mind could turn into reality, but on the drive back to the house it kept returning, surfacing with increasing frequency despite her determined efforts to ignore it. She was being silly, she told herself more than once, and besides, surely it was far too soon…She knew so little about these things. She counted backwards slowly, her hands clenching suddenly on the driving wheel, as she realised what the events of the last few days had made her forget. She was probably imagining things, she told herself over and over again. Emotional crises often had disturbing effects upon the body. There was nothing to worry about; no point in raising spectres. Even so, by the time she was turning into the drive she was feverishly tense, and it was left to Lucy to point out the elegant BMW parked outside.

  ‘Visitors!’ she exclaimed. ‘Uncle Luke must be back.’

  Luke had left that morning without giving Genista any clue as to when she might expect him back, and she had wondered with a pang if he intended to see the owner of the seductively husky voice. She got out of her car shakily, her mind still on the frightening possibility that she might actually be carrying his child.

  The moment she entered the hall she was aware of an alien presence; it wasn’t just the smell of Opium hanging heavily on the air, or the way the library door had been left open, it was an actual physical awareness, like goosebumps.

  ‘Darling, at last! I thought you were never coming!’

  She recognised the husky, feminine voice before its owner walked languidly into the hall, her lips parting on a small ‘oh’ of tribute to the other woman’s beauty.

  She was dark-haired, tall, with the fluid elegance of a model, beautifully dressed and made up, and several years older than Genista. A huge diamond, large enough to be ‘showy’, glittered on her right hand, and her nails were painted a vivid dark red.

  ‘Oh!’ She paused when she saw Genista, eyeing her disdainfully. ‘The child bride, I presume. Luke really did make a mistake this time, didn’t he? Where is he by the way?—he promised to meet me here at six. We’re supposed to be going out to dinner.’

  Her sangfroid took Genista’s breath away. Lucy was standing behind her, and as Genista turned she caught the look of bitter hatred on the girl’s face.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she stormed furiously. ‘You broke up my parents’ marriage and now you want to spoil things for Genista! Well, Uncle Luke doesn’t want you back. He knows exactly what you are. You might have fooled him once, but…’

  ‘That’s enough, Lucy,’ Genista interposed gently, seeing that she was close to breaking down completely. It was as though she had known the identity of the visitor all along, and refused to acknowledge it. Even last night when she answered the phone the knowledge had been there. So this was Verity, the woman her husband had loved. And still did? Was that why he had made love to her with such savage intensity? Because of this woman!

  This time her nausea couldn’t be quelled. She was violently sick in the cloakroom, adding further to her sense of humiliation. When she emerged, pale and shaken, Verity eyed her superciliously.

  ‘How very dramatic,’ she murmured acidly. ‘Haven’t you learned yet, you silly little girl, that Luke abhors emotionalism?’

  Lucy had gone—to her room, Genista presumed. How did one entertain one’s husband’s ex-mistress and possibly future wife? It was not something she was ever likely to find in a book of etiquette.

  ‘There’s no way you can keep him, you know,’ Verity continued. ‘Oh, I’ve no doubt that he doesn’t want to hurt you. In fact, if you behave sensibly now you could come out of it quite pleasantly—finance-wise.’

  ‘But without Luke,’ Genista said, surprised at her own ability to remain so calm when inwardly she felt as though she were being torn to pieces.

  ‘Oh, without Luke, of course,’ Verity agreed softly. ‘But then you can hardly have expected to keep him; a mere child like you.’ She moved sinuously, revealing the perfect curves of her body, her expression almost felinely triumphant. ‘You see, my dear, compared with me you can only be the clumsiest amateur. I’m sure we don’t need to fence with one another. Luke is a deeply sexual man, and I know how to arouse, fan and appease that sexuality as no other woman ever will. It is true that I stupidly allowed a natural need for security to blind me to the truth, but fortunately I realised in time that Luke is the man for me, just as I am the only woman for him. Oh, he may have amused himself with you; enjoyed the novelty of making love to a complete novice, but you could never hope to keep him satisfied for long.’

  Her words only echoed Genista’s own fears and feelings. It was obvious that Luke had confided in Verity; had told her about their marriage, and she did not know which was the hardest to bear—the knowledge that he had openly discussed her with Verity, or the fact that much of what Verity was saying was true. The mere fact that Luke had invited his old love to the house, where Lucy would see her, shrieked the truth out loud; his need for her was so great that even Lucy’s feelings no longer mattered.

  She still had some tattered remnants of dignity, some age-old instinct which made her lift her head and say proudly,

  ‘If Luke wants me to leave he only has to tell me. I have no intention of staying where I’m not wanted, but until he does, this is still my home, and you are still an intruder. Coming here when you must have known that Lucy would be here is in the worst possible taste, in view of the fact that you were living with her father until quite recently. As you say, we have no need to fence with one another, so I’m sure you’ll understand me when I tell you that I’m going upstairs to Lucy, leaving you to wait for my husband on your own.’

  ‘Your husband!’ Verity laughed mockingly. ‘How the words trip off your tongue, but very soon they’ll only be an empty phrase. Luke is mine!’

  The words reverberated through Genista’s mind as she hurried upstairs. As she had expected she found Lucy huddled up on her bed, her expression woeful.

  ‘She said Uncle Luke had asked her to come here!’ she burst out as Genista opened the door. ‘I don’t believe it. He wouldn’t do a thing like that—he hates her!’

  ‘I’m sure whatever he did was for a good reason,’ Genista soothed. After all, it was the truth. No doubt to Luke his love for Verity was an adequate reason for putting it before everything else. ‘Look,’ she suggested, ‘why don’t you give your mother and father a ring? I’m sure they’ll be delighted to hear from you. They weren’t planning to go away, were they?’

  Lucy shook her head, and Genista could see that her suggestion had taken root. They made the call together, Lucy insisting that Genista stay while she spoke to both her parents.

  ‘Father wants me to go home,’ she told Genista as she replaced the receiver. ‘Oh, Genista, they both sounded so happy! Mother was quite different, more like she used to be before…before…’

  ‘You’ll have to speak to your uncle before you make any plans to go to France,’ Genista warned her. When Lucy was on the phone she had heard a car outside and automatically her body tensed in dread of the confrontation to come. Verity must have made her presence known to Luke by now. Was she in his arms? Was he assuring her that she, Genista, would be leaving his house at the earliest possible opportunity. The child he had given her was destined never to know its father. She tried not to let the thought hurt.

  She was in their room when Luke walked in. He threw his jacket down on to the bed, and loosened his tie impatiently.

  ‘Ve
rity tells me you were very unpleasant to her. Why?’ he demanded without preamble. ‘She is a guest in my house and as such entitled to courtesy if nothing else.’

  ‘While I, as your wife, am entitled to nothing, I suppose,’ Genista challenged. ‘Have you any idea of the effect it had on Lucy to find her here?’

  Just for a moment an expression she could not fathom crossed his face, but it was gone before she could begin to unravel it.

  ‘Don’t hide behind Lucy, Genista,’ he said harshly. ‘You insulted Verity, and I should like to know why.’

  ‘Insulted her? On the contrary!’ Genista took a deep breath and held it. Whatever she said about his mistress Luke would side with Verity. Arguing with him was pointless. It only caused her more pain.

  ‘I’m the one who’s been insulted, Luke,’ she said quietly at last. ‘Insulted by being forced to endure sex without love; a marriage which makes a mockery of all that marriage should be.’

  She heard the door slam, but it was several minutes before she was able to turn round—minutes during which she had battled against the tears threatening to fall, but it was all in vain. She was alone in the room, and several minutes later she heard the hum of the BMW’s engine and saw the two people sitting in the car.

  Lucy was slightly subdued over dinner, and Genista hoped she had not heard them quarrelling. She thought that given time Lucy would come to realise that men and women could find happiness together if they had enough love and trust, but she sensed that the younger girl was hurt by Luke’s behaviour.

  ‘Are you going to wait up for Uncle Luke?’ she asked Genista anxiously after dinner.

  Genista shook her head, striving to show a confidence she could not feel. She had no wish to destroy Luke’s relationship with his niece, although she suspected that Verity would soon make sure there was room only for herself in his life.

  When she did go to bed she lay sleepless, waiting for his return. Dawn was breaking before she acknowledged that he would not be back—not that night, at least. The anguish was almost unbearable.

  She managed to put on a brave face in front of Lucy, letting the younger girl think that Luke had returned and gone out again, and hoping that Lucy would not think to comment on the fact that his car was still outside.

  She had been sick again, and could now ignore the signs no longer. She was carrying Luke’s child. A part of her paganly rejoiced in the knowledge while another, more sensible part pointed out the problems she would have to face as a single parent, and the possible effect the lack of a father could have on her child. It was still too early to think about visiting her doctor, but intuitively she knew that she had conceived Luke’s baby.

  Lucy had decided to go riding again, but this time Genista declined to accompany her. Hadn’t she once read somewhere that the early weeks could be critical for an unborn child? The very fact that she was so anxious about the safety of the life she carried told her how precious it had already become to her in such a short space of time.

  She was sitting in the garden, trying to concentrate on a book she had found in the library when she heard footsteps on the gravel path. At first she thought it was Luke, and her heart leapt in anticipation, but it was Bob’s more homely features which she saw when she looked upwards.

  ‘Luke not here?’ he asked her, frowning when she shook her head. ‘He rang me last night and asked me to bring some papers down here. He said they were urgent.’

  ‘I’ve no idea where he is,’ Genista admitted. ‘Can you stay and have lunch with me, or do you have to rush back?’

  ‘Oh, I think I could manage to endure lunch with a beautiful woman,’ Bob said with a grin. ‘You’re looking pale, Gen, is everything all right?’

  ‘Can you think of one good reason why it shouldn’t be?’ Genista parried. ‘Come inside with me, I’ll fix us some lunch and you can tell me all about Elaine.’

  ‘She’s doing fine—much better than the doctor thought at first. She’s being so incredibly brave—you’ve no idea. I never dreamed she had so much inner strength. There was a time when I thought she would simply give up and die, but she’s fighting with everything she’s got.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ Genista said simply. ‘But she’s got a lot to fight for, Bob. A husband, her child…’

  ‘Hey, do I detect a certain…unhappiness? Forgive me for prying, Gen, but to be honest I was surprised when you married Luke out of the blue like that. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not surprised he fell so heavily for you, but you’ve never been a girl to act rashly. I might seem a middle-aged old fuddy-duddy, but I assure you I haven’t forgotten the power of sexual attraction or the havoc it can wreak if it’s mistaken for love.’

  ‘There was no mistake. The trouble was that I didn’t realise how much I loved him until it was too late. Oh, Bob!’ Once the tears started to come she couldn’t stem them. He took her in his arms awkwardly, proffering a large comforting hand-kerchief, and patting her gently on the back.

  ‘What’s the matter, Gen? Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘Luke doesn’t love me.’ The relief of saying it was only momentary. ‘He never loved me, Bob, he just wanted me.’ She tried to explain what had happened, between sobs, while Bob listened patiently. ‘And now he’s got Verity back he doesn’t want me at all.’

  ‘I’m truly sorry, Gen,’ said Bob when she had finished. ‘I only wish there was something I could do to help.’

  ‘Just listening did that.’

  ‘Try to hold on to the knowledge that loving another person enriches life whatever the outcome. We might resent it; we might fight against it, but ultimately our lives would be poor things indeed without it. Love is a very special thing, Genista.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘My apologies for breaking up such a delightful scene. If I’d known you were having a tête-à-tête in my kitchen, Bob, with my wife, I would have knocked. I haven’t been a husband for long enough yet to know the subtleties attached to the relationship, so you’ll have to forgive my crassness. Did you bring the papers?’

  Luke walked into the kitchen, completely ignoring Genista. He had shaved and was wearing a different suit from the one he had been wearing the previous evening. Love for him melted Genista’s bones. She wanted to go to him and be taken in his arms more than she had wanted anything else in her life, but he was looking at her with a cold fury which left her in no doubt that her feelings were not reciprocated. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that his accusations were little short of ridiculous when he had just spent the night in Verity’s arms, but all at once the effort was too much for her.

  ‘I’m going upstairs,’ she said unsteadily, then turned to Bob. ‘I’ll remember what you said,’ she told him, smiling wanly. ‘Tell Elaine to keep on fighting!’

  * * *

  She was sitting listlessly staring out of the window when the bedroom door crashed back and Luke strode into the room.

  His fingers bruised her shoulders as he pulled her to her feet, shaking her as though she were a rag doll, until the room spun dizzily round her.

  ‘You little tramp!’ she heard him say thickly through the ringing in her ears. ‘How dare you entertain your lover here? Did you let him take you in my bed? Did you?’

  She couldn’t even raise the energy to protest at his rough treatment of her.

  ‘What does it matter what I did?’ she heard herself say wearily.

  ‘You’re my wife!’ Luke gritted at her. ‘That’s what it matters, and Bob is one of my employees. Did you do it to get back at me, Genista? To punish me for the other night?’

  If only she could float free of her body and escape from her pain, but it was impossible. Bruising though Luke’s grip was, her body was unbearably aware of him. She felt a feverish need to reach up and touch him, to feel him tremble against her as urgently as he had done when he made love to her.

  ‘Two can play at that game,’ she heard him say harshly, and then she felt his hands on her back, tugging down her zipper, and
exposing her body clad only in minuscule briefs and a lacy bra. She trembled as he sought the clip, and growing impatient wrenched at the dainty lace until it tore, revealing the soft thrust of her breasts to his probing eyes.

  ‘Has he seen you like this?’ he demanded harshly, ‘touched you like this?’

  His hands seemed to burn where they touched her skin. He seemed to be possessed of a primeval force that nothing could stem. For the sake of her self-respect she could not let him take her in revenge and anger, and yet as he thrust her down on to the bed, pinning her there with his superior weight, she could feel her will deserting her. The treachery of her body was searingly painful. There was no way she could meet the scorching triumph in his eyes as he cupped her breasts with his hands and she felt her nipples harden betrayingly against his palm. As though bent on punishing her further he teased the rosy peaks with his thumb, stroking roughly until she was almost mindless with pleasure, all the time watching her face with hard eyes.

  This time she did not cry his name, nor did she try to prolong his touch. Deep down inside her self-disgust welled alongside longing. This was not how it should be, Luke using her body as though it were a toy, and watching her reactions like a voyeur. Her love rebelled, overcoming her desire. This was not how she wanted to remember their last encounter. She wanted her last memory of their lovemaking to be the mutually burning need which had brought them together before, not this calculated attempt to humiliate her by teaching her that he was her body’s master.

  ‘Satiated, are you?’ Luke sneered cruelly. ‘There’ll be other times, Genista, when you won’t be fresh from your lover’s arms.’