The Pregnant Bride

by Catherine Spencer

  “If Molly were my child,” Jenna said, ever mindful of her delicate role in the little girl’s life, “I’d resent finding out after the fact, and I’d definitely suspect you were hiding something.”

  There was a distinct chill in his voice when he spoke next. “I see. So what would you like me to do, Jenna? Come right out and admit I’m building a case to gain primary custody of Molly, and keep Adrienne informed each step of the way? Possibly hire a lawyer to prepare a counterattack on her behalf?”

  “She’s a mother, Edmund, and anyone can see that she loves Molly. I think she’ll be devastated when she finds out what you’re up to.”

  “But I’m just the father and how I feel doesn’t count, is that it?”

  “No!” she cried, wishing he weren’t always so primed to take offence on the subject. “I don’t mean that at all. But I wonder if your motivation is quite as selfless as you make it out to be.”

  “Exactly what are you implying?”

  “Edmund, Dr. Franklin said nothing to indicate that Molly wasn’t given the best possible care. Quite the opposite, in fact. Yet you persisted in badgering him—trying to get him to say something, anything, which you could use to label Adrienne and Bud as unfit parents.”

  “And your point is?” he said coldly.

  “There must have been a report filed at the time of the accident and since you’re not waving it in the air like some sort of trophy, I assume it contained nothing to indicate they were guilty of criminal negligence.” She sighed. “Accidents happen, Edmund, even with the most vigilant supervision. With children, they happen in a split second. You know that.”

  “What I know,” he said, his voice dangerously intent, “is that my daughter could have died and I’ll move heaven and earth before I leave her open to the same risk again.”

  “And if you don’t succeed?”

  He fixed her in a killing glare, one so ruthless that she flinched. “But I’ve already taken steps to ensure that I do,” he said. “I married you, sweet pea.”

  “I realize I’m just the means to an end,” she said, stifling the hurt his cold assessment provoked, “but I’d hoped there might be more to our…arrangement than pure convenience. I’d hoped that by now we’d have developed…”

  “What?”

  “A mutual respect. A shared…” Once again she hesitated, afraid to voice what had been in her heart for weeks.

  “A shared what?” His tone expressed nothing but amused cynicism. “Love? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

  “Would it be so terrible if I were?”

  “It would be disastrous. A moment ago you quite rightly referred to our marriage as an arrangement. Start clouding the issue with ideas of love and our whole plan of action is jeopardized. People don’t think straight once they let their emotions take over.”

  “That doesn’t seem to concern you much when we’re in bed. It doesn’t impair your performance at all. In fact, there’ve been times when I’ve wondered if we aren’t falling a little bit in love with each other.”

  “Jenna, Jenna, Jenna!” He shook his head in mock despair. “We can make love till our eyeballs rattle, but that doesn’t translate into our being in love. At your age, surely you know that one has nothing to do with the other?”

  “Well, if I didn’t before, I do now,” she said, a great well of misery bursting inside.

  As if realizing he’d cut her to the quick, he patted her hand. “Don’t go all soft and sentimental on me at this late date, sweet pea. Look how well we’ve managed so far by not allowing our hearts to rule our heads. We need to hang together now, more than ever.”

  There were a dozen replies she could have made; things like, You need me a lot more than I need you, Edmund Delaney, so don’t go giving me orders on how I’m supposed to feel and what I’m supposed to do. If I walk out on you, you’ll be up the creek without the proverbial paddle! Instead, she said starchily, “I’d appreciate it very much if you wouldn’t call me ‘sweet pea.’”

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “Whatever you say. Anything, as long as you don’t lose sight of the true objective here, which is that both my children know who their father is, and that everything he does is in their best interests.” He got up from the picnic bench and brushed a few crumbs off the leg of his pants. “If we don’t want to get caught in rush hour traffic, we should start heading home. Want a hand packing up here?”

  “No,” she said. At that moment, she didn’t want a thing from him because it struck her suddenly that although he could be generous to a fault, in the end, he exacted a price for everything he gave, whether it was material comfort or emotional support.

  One of the reasons he’d mentioned having Molly stay in town with them had been to give Adrienne a break from looking after her. As soon as he’d achieved that objective, though, the whole tenor of the visit had changed and taken on subversive undertones that made Jenna part of a conspiracy which left a very bad taste in her mouth.

  He seemed able to read the doubts churning in her mind. “Don’t look at me as if I’ve just sprouted horns,” he said teasingly. “I don’t have any diabolical plans up my sleeve. Nothing’s changed since the day I proposed we get married.”

  “Yes, it has,” she said coldly. “You led me to believe that Molly needed rescuing from an untenable situation with your ex-wife when, in fact, no such situation exists and what you really want to do is punish Adrienne for daring to make a life without you.”

  His gaze went flat and inscrutable. “I don’t have to prove myself to you, Jenna, not where Molly’s concerned. But I will remind you that you are now my wife, so regardless of what you think you know, you owe loyalty to me, not Adrienne.”

  “Your wife?” she echoed bitterly. “Oh, please! I’m no more than a necessary accessory. Once I’ve served my purpose, you’ll probably discard me like an old shoe.”

  “Dream on, my dear. I don’t part willingly with what I consider to be mine. And you can bet your last dollar that, regardless of the outcome of Molly’s living arrangements, I’m not about to be shunted out of my second child’s life. Whether or not you like it, we’re married. For better or for worse.”

  For all that the day was brilliant with September sunshine, a cold chill ran over her at his words. Once she’d found comfort in knowing she was married to a man with the courage of his convictions. Now, it struck a disturbingly ominous note.

  CHAPTER TEN

  EVERY evening before she went to bed, Molly phoned home to say good-night to her mother. Usually, Edmund took her into the den to make the call while Jenna cleaned up the kitchen.

  The day they’d taken her to see the specialist though, Molly came skipping down the hall with her funny little lopsided gait, looking for Jenna who was loading dinner plates into the dishwasher. “I’ve finished on the phone but Mommy wants to talk to you now, Jenna.”

  “What’s all this about Molly seeing a doctor?” Adrienne asked, coming straight to the point when Jenna picked up the extension in the kitchen. “Has something happened? Is she ill?”

  Hearing the anxiety in the other woman’s voice, Jenna hastened to reassure her. “She’s perfectly fine, Adrienne.”

  “But you did take her to some doctor?”

  “Well…yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I think,” Jenna said, more uncomfortable by the second at being the one having to field such pertinent questions, “you should be asking Edmund that.”

  “I’m asking you, Jenna,” Adrienne said tensely. “What’s going on out there? What’s Edmund up to?”

  “Nothing. He just…wanted to make sure he was doing everything possible to speed up Molly’s recovery.”

  “Then why not ask me, since I’m the one who’s in constant touch with her regular doctor? It doesn’t add up that he’d call in someone else, unless she’s had some sort of relapse.”

  “I promise you that’s not the case,” Jenna insisted. “Really, Adrienne, Molly’s just fine.”

  “
Why don’t I quite believe this is all as innocent as you’re making it out to be?”

  Quite possibly because lying through my teeth makes me owly, Jenna thought frantically.

  “Jenna? Are you still there?”

  “Yes,” she said miserably. “Adrienne, I wish you’d talk to Edmund about this. It really isn’t up to me to be explaining…things.”

  “So there is something to explain! I thought as much. Well, put him on the line then, because I’m not hanging up until I’ve got to the bottom of whatever scheme he’s hatching.”

  “He’s trying to be a good father, that’s all.”

  “Hah! Edmund’s idea of being a good father is to treat his daughter as if she were part of his expensive inventory. She’s just another commodity to him.”

  “You’re not being fair, Adrienne!”

  “No? You’ll change your tune once your own child is born. I’m warning you, Jenna, he’ll try to take over every aspect of that baby’s life unless you put your foot down at the start. It’s the chief reason our marriage broke up, though I don’t suppose he’s told you that. Edmund collects people the way others collect china, a piece at a time. And heaven help anyone who comes between him and his next acquisition. He’s a control freak, pure and simple.”

  Shockingly, Edmund’s voice responded to that, filtering down the line from the phone still off the hook in the den. “Thanks for the endorsement, Adrienne. I’m sure my wife feels a whole lot better now that she’s heard your version of what being married to me is all about. Just what the hell do you think you’re trying to do—sabotage this relationship, too?”

  “Never mind taking umbrage at me,” she snapped back. “You’re the one with some explaining to do. What’s behind this mysterious visit to a doctor and why wasn’t I informed about it beforehand?”

  “For the same reason that you waited nearly twelve hours before you let me know that Molly had been almost crushed to death under the wheels of a tractor—there was nothing you could have done about it. I decided I wanted a second opinion on her condition and I was well within my rights to seek one without asking your permission first.”

  “The only reason it took me so long to get in touch with you when she was hurt,” Adrienne said bitterly, “is that, despite all your carrying on about what a dedicated father you are and how you always have Molly’s welfare in mind, you left town without letting me know where you were, and I had to wait until somebody answered the phone in the warehouse the next morning, to find out how to get in touch with you.”

  Too sick at heart to listen to any more, Jenna quietly hung up the kitchen phone. Adrienne had struck a disconcerting chord with her assessment of Edmund, reinforcing suspicions which, for all that she tried to deny them, had been flourishing at the back of Jenna’s mind for some time and which, after that afternoon’s confrontation, had burst into full bloom.

  Sadly, Edmund’s regard for Molly did spring from something more than fatherly concern. It had to do with winning, with proving himself an unbeatable opponent. It had to do with punishing Adrienne because she was the primary parent and he had been relegated to a less prominent role. What was best for Molly, or where she would be happiest, had become lost in a game of one-upmanship in which that poor little girl was nothing but a pawn, a trophy to be won.

  A tug at her skirt made Jenna look down to find Molly leaning against the counter. “Why is Daddy mad?” she inquired anxiously. “Why is he saying bad things to Mommy?”

  “Grown-ups sometimes say things they don’t mean, darling,” she said, kneeling down and scooping the child into her arms. “Daddy has been worried about you, that’s all.”

  “Is he going to make me leave Mommy and stay here?”

  Dear God in heaven, what was she supposed to do? Tell the truth and say that might very well be the case? She couldn’t, not if her life depended on it! “No, darling. You’ll be going home to Mommy in a few days.”

  Molly popped her thumb into her mouth and regarded her seriously. Then, she leaned her head against Jenna’s shoulder and gave a heartfelt little sigh. “I want to go home now,” she quavered. “I miss Mommy and Poppa Bud.”

  Jenna’s heart ached for her. “It’s too late to drive such a long way tonight, Molly. How about if I read you a story after your bath, instead, then tomorrow, if you still want to go home, we’ll talk to Daddy about it?”

  “There won’t be any need because it’s not going to happen,” Edmund said from the doorway. “And I’ll thank you, Jenna, not to go making promises you can’t keep.”

  Struggling to her feet with Molly hanging on like a barnacle clinging to a rock, Jenna said warningly, “Now isn’t the time or place to discuss it, Edmund. This child’s had enough for one day.”

  “Then hand her to me and I’ll put her to bed.”

  Though every instinct screamed for her to thwart him, to hold Molly close and rock her to sleep in her arms if that’s what it would take to soothe the little thing, Jenna did as she was told. Poor Molly was already being pulled in two different directions, without her adding a third.

  Too discouraged to care that there were still things needing to be cleaned up in the kitchen, she went out to the patio and lowered herself into a chair. Her back ached and her ankles were puffy, but they were minor discomforts and quickly remedied with a warm bath and a good night’s sleep.

  But the real hurting—that great load of pain that started somewhere in the region of her heart and spread until it consumed every inch of her—that, she could do nothing to ease. Propping her elbow on the table, she leaned her head wearily in her hand and wondered yet again what spark of madness had ever led her to believe two people could base a marriage on total unfamiliarity, and expect to make it work. She didn’t feel like a wife; she felt like a mouse desperately racing down blind alleys as it tried to find its way out of a maze.

  “Is she asleep?” she asked, when Edmund finally reappeared.

  “She is. No thanks to you, though.” He flung himself down opposite her. “And what’s with this business of her sucking her thumb? She stopped that over a year ago.”

  “It’s her way of showing us she’s upset. Children her age are apt to revert to earlier habits when their security’s threatened. She heard you and Adrienne arguing.”

  “Because you made it your business to tell her mother we’d been to see a specialist,” he said bitterly. “What were you thinking of, tipping my hand like that?”

  “Adrienne heard the news from Molly. It wouldn’t have come as such a shock though, if you’d done the decent thing and discussed it with her first.”

  “And what else did you see fit to let drop? That you thought I was being sneaky and let’s see…how did you put it earlier this afternoon?” He tapped one finger against his front teeth and pretended to look thoughtful. “Ah, yes. Now I remember—‘that my motivation wasn’t quite as selfless as I made it out to be’?”

  “I didn’t have to,” she said. “Adrienne’s already figured out that much for herself. She thinks you’re overly possessive about Molly, and she’s right. But you don’t care about that child nearly as much as you think you do. You’ve got an imagined score to settle with Adrienne and her husband, and you’re using Molly to do it.”

  “What a charming thing to say—and this from the woman who only hours ago was chirping on about falling in love!”

  “I see now that I was merely deluding myself. All these weeks—” her voice broke, and she gulped, furious to find herself on the brink of tears “—I thought we were forging something worth hanging on to. I thought we were growing closer, that we were learning to trust each other. But how can I trust a man I no longer believe in?”

  “No longer believe in?” he exploded. “What the devil do you mean by that?”

  Tears pooled along her lower eyelids, blurring his image and turning him into a mirage in much the same way that the inner man was showing himself to be. “You aren’t who I thought you were,” she whispered, a deep and painful sorrow
ripping her apart. “I don’t know you. I never did.”

  “Don’t give me that! I was up-front with you from the very first. You got exactly what you were looking for when you married me, and so, I thought, did I.”

  “Then it appears we were both mistaken.”

  “Why? Because we happen to disagree over one little thing?” He slapped the flat of his hands on the tabletop, so hard the sound ricocheted over the patio like a rifle shot. “For God’s sake, Jenna, where’s your sense of proportion?”

  “Right where it should be,” she cried, the tears falling fast and furious. “Because this isn’t ‘one little thing.’ A child’s future is at stake, and I won’t help you perpetuate the myth that you’re doing her a favor by taking her away from her mother. I will not be part of any scheme that removes that little girl from the only home she knows or cares about.”

  “You will do,” he said, with chilling emphasis, “exactly what you agreed to do when you married me. You saved face by producing a respectable husband just when you needed one, and in return I got a wife ably qualified to help me win court approval to bring my daughter to live with me, instead of with some hayseed farmer who damn near killed her.”

  “When are you going to stop laying blame and accept that what happened was an accident? What’s it going to—?”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want to call it, my dear. Accident, negligence, stupidity—they all add up to the same thing in the end. My daughter almost lost her life, and I’ll see you in hell before I let you stand in the way of my preventing that from ever happening again.”

  “How do you propose to do that, Edmund?” she said, her chin quivering uncontrollably. “By gagging me before I take the witness stand? Because that’s about the only way you’re going to keep me from speaking my mind.”

  “You owe me your allegiance.”

  “Allegiance?” She choked back a bitter laugh. “Is that what this marriage is all about—me bending the knee to you? What happened to respect for the other person’s point of view? What happened to honesty?”