Resisting Mr Rochester

by Sharon Booth

  Ethan and I had checked into a hotel, as he needed to be around for the investigation and was determined to stay close by to oversee repairs, while I was equally determined to stay with him, wherever he was. As the car pulled up outside the house, we climbed out and stood staring up at the blackened roof and shattered windows.

  "I'm so sorry," I said. "If it hadn't been for me, Seth would never have—"

  "It's just a house," he said firmly. "It's the people that make it a home, and we're all safe, thank God." He took my hand. "You came back."

  "I know I did." I smiled. "You don't get rid of me that easily."

  He turned to face me. "But why? What made you change your mind?"

  "Because," I said, "whatever I heard, however bad things look—and I've got to say, Mr Rochester, they look pretty bad—I trust you."

  His face lit up. "You do?"

  "I do. I believe you love me, and I know for a fact that I love you. The simple fact is, I can't live without you, so you'd just better have a bloody good explanation for everything that's happened, mister."

  "I have." He hooked his arm over my shoulders. "Let's go to our place, shall we? It's time I told you everything."

  The secret garden was as magical as ever—perhaps more so. With the house so blackened and damaged, it felt like a miracle that, in there, the roses still bloomed, and the air was still scented with their beautiful perfume. We wandered through the archway and settled ourselves on the swing.

  "So," Ethan said, "where do you want me to start?"

  "How about," I said slowly, "you tell me about these twins you've allegedly fathered with your wife?"

  "It's not true," he said. "They're not mine."

  "But Faith said …" I shook my head. "How are they, anyway? I feel awful. I haven't really had chance to ask."

  "They're going to be okay. They were quite a good weight, considering they were six weeks early, and the doctors seem very optimistic."

  "And Antonia?"

  "Absolutely shattered, scared to death, but over the moon." He grinned. "Faith was with her for the birth. I waited outside, pacing up and down like some Victorian father-to-be." He looked stricken. "But I'm not," he added hastily. "A father-to-be, I mean. Or a father, come to that." He took a deep breath. "Let me start at the beginning."

  "I think you should."

  "Antonia and I have been friends since childhood. She was a good pal. One of the boys. I had no romantic feelings towards her, but we always got on, and she understood my situation, as I understood hers. When she turned eighteen, she got a pretty nasty shock. It seemed her father had, more or less, promised her in marriage to the son of a business associate. It wasn't about her, or what she wanted. The two of them had apparently cooked up the deal when Antonia was little more than thirteen."

  "What? But that's mediaeval." I gaped. "No one does that in real life, surely?"

  "You don't know Simon," Ethan said grimly. "Oh, he couldn't force her, of course, but he's always been exceptionally good at making Antonia feel guilty. She adores him, and she's always wanted to please him, even when she was a little girl. That time, though, he'd made a huge mistake. He had no idea. She came to me for help. She didn't want to hurt him, or fall out with him, but she simply couldn't marry that man, and she was desperately afraid that he'd convince her to do so. So, we decided, there and then, to stop that from happening, and to solve my own problems at the same time."

  "What problems were you having?" I asked.

  "The same problem that keeps cropping up, even now," he said with a sigh. "There were girls. Girls like Jodie Palmerston and Briony. Girls who saw me as a walking cash register, and were determined to get a ring on their finger, one way, or the other."

  "I'm sure there were plenty of girls who just wanted to be with you, whether you had money, or not," I protested. "I hate to say it, but you are rather gorgeous, you know."

  He grinned at me. "Really? I wondered if you fancied me. You've never actually said."

  I blushed. "I know, I just assumed it was obvious." I nudged him. "Oh, okay. You're absolutely delicious, and I fancy you like mad."

  "Thank you," he said. "That's very reassuring."

  I laughed. "Go on, then. About these girls."

  "Oh, yeah. Well, anyway, the point is, I didn't trust them. I'd seen it with my own father. I'd watched women flirt with him for years—to no effect, I might add. My father adored my mother, and besides, he knew perfectly well what they were after. He always warned me to be careful. Said some women had no self-respect, and would go all out to trap me. He said, not all women were like that, and that I had to wait until I found someone who would love me, even if I went bankrupt tomorrow."

  "That's me," I said. "I don't care if you have money, or not. You do believe that, don't you?"

  "If I didn't, I wouldn't have let myself fall for you so utterly and completely," he said. "But you have to remember, I was just a kid back then, and I didn't know how to tell the difference. I didn't want to end up with a broken heart and a stack of maxed-out credit cards, so it seemed to Antonia and me that the best thing to do to help both of us was to get married. To each other, I mean. That way, her father couldn't force her to marry his associate's son, and women wouldn't be able to get their hands on me. So, that's what we did." He sighed, and I reached for his hand, studying it while I tried to make sense of their marriage of convenience.

  "So, it was never about love?" I said eventually. "You and Antonia, you got married to protect yourselves. That's what you meant when you said it wasn't a real marriage?"

  "We were friends," he said. "Good friends, but nothing more."

  "And—and was the marriage ever consummated?"

  He squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Never. I'm not Antonia's type, for one thing."

  "Don't be so naive," I said. "You're every woman's type. I can't imagine how she could keep her hands off you."

  "Now who's being naive?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "When I said, I'm not her type, I mean I'm the wrong gender. Faith," he added, "is much more her type."

  "Faith!" I let out a long breath. "Ah, I see. But surely, if she'd told her father the reason she couldn't marry a man, he'd have understood?"

  "Like I said earlier, you don't know Simon." Ethan's eyes glinted with contempt. "It's hard to believe that men like him still walk the earth, but it's true. He would despise her, if he knew the truth, no doubt about it."

  "In this day and age?"

  "Honestly. And it would break her heart. She struggled for a long time to accept herself the way she was. She really doesn't need to have her already low self-esteem completely crushed by that man. Antonia and I made vows when we got married. Not the ones we said in the registry office, but to each other in private. We promised that we wouldn't reveal the nature of our relationship to anyone until we both felt the time was right. I vowed to protect her. You rather put a spanner in the works."

  "She's not ready to come out?"

  "She's terrified. Scared stiff that he won't have anything more to do with her."

  "But surely her relationship is more important than her inheritance?"

  "It's not about money," he assured me. "Antonia's wealthy in her own right, due to an inheritance from her grandfather. She doesn't actually need what she'll get from her father. The simple fact is, as bigoted as he is, she loves him. She doesn't want to disappoint him. She doesn't want to see that look of disgust in his eye."

  Oh, I could relate to that. There was absolutely nothing worse than believing you'd made your parents ashamed of you, however unfair that might be. "Poor Antonia," I murmured.

  "So, her solution was to go off travelling. She and Faith have seen the world. It was all so easy at first. We'd meet up now and then, and attend some family function, or other, to keep the gossip at bay. We'd spin the story that I had to be in London for work, and she loved to travel, and we'd put on a show of togetherness to convince everyone that, as unconventional as our marriage was, it worked for us. Then she'd go back
to Faith, and no one was any the wiser. Simon wasn't happy about our marriage at first. In fact, he was furious. But I think my fortune eased his pain somewhat, and he accepted it eventually. Things ticked along nicely for ages, but it's all changed now. Things are tricky."

  "Because of me?" I whispered.

  "You're the reason I wanted to break my promise," he admitted. "But things got tricky even before then."

  "Christmas? In Paris?"

  He shook his head. "Devon, last July. It got messy."

  "What happened?"

  "She invited me to spend her birthday with them. I thought, perhaps she wanted to ask if we could end the marriage. I knew she and Faith were keen to get married, themselves, and I thought, maybe they'd found the courage to be honest. I went over there, expecting to be told that the need for pretence was over. Instead .... Well, let's just say I got a shock. Faith and Antonia had decided they wanted a baby. More than that. They were desperate for one. Time, they felt, was running out for them. Faith couldn't have children, so it would have to be Antonia who carried the baby, and their idea was that I should father it."

  "You're kidding!" I bit my lip. Of course he wasn't kidding! I already knew that part, didn't I? "So, it's true? The twins are—"

  "No, no." He shook his head and gripped my hand even tighter. "Please believe me. No matter what you heard, the twins aren't mine. Faith was just panicking. Making idle threats. The babies were fathered by an anonymous donor at an expensive clinic. Antonia and Faith spent Antonia's entire birthday weekend trying to persuade me to be their donor, but I refused. I could see too many problems. For one thing, I couldn't bear not to be part of any child of mine's life, and I knew that wasn't in their plans. Faith wouldn't have stood it, for a start, so I told them they'd have to find some other way. We argued quite seriously, and parted on bad terms. Then, out of the blue, they invited me to spend Christmas with them in Paris. I wanted to make it up with them, so I went. They'd wanted to patch things up, too, but they also had some news they couldn't wait to share. After our row, they'd gone back to Plan B, which was the clinic, and Antonia had been lucky. She got pregnant the first time they tried, and it was twins. She was thrilled to bits, but, boy she's been ill. Sick all the way through it. She ended up in hospital at one point, it was so bad. I should think she's terribly relieved it's all over."

  "So, what happened after that?" I said.

  "Obviously, she knew that everyone would assume I’m the father, and I could hardly deny it without causing problems for her, could I? It was all such a mess that, in the end, I told my mother everything. She was appalled. Said I'd got myself into a real tangle, and I needed to force Antonia to come clean. But how could I do that to her, especially with how sick she'd been? She was hiding away, keeping the pregnancy secret as long as she could to avoid questions. Her own family don't know even now. She was so fragile, I just couldn't put any more pressure on her. Then I met you, Cara."

  He put his arm around me. "I tried so hard to resist falling in love with you. It was the last thing I wanted, or expected. I didn't know who to trust, and I've always kept women at arm's length, for that reason. Being married made things so much easier, although it didn't put them all off. Jodie, for a start, and Briony, of course. I can't pretend I've been a saint, but I've always avoided relationships. When I met you, though, everything felt different.

  "Before long, I knew I would have to make a choice. I knew it was either break my promise to Antonia, or lose you. I desperately wanted to tell you the truth, because I knew I couldn't get involved with you with all this hanging over my head. I told Antonia about you, but she didn't want to know. She insisted that you were probably a gold digger, just like all the others. She was too unwell for me to press her, so I left it for a while.

  "Then Marcus came and told me about her father. I rang Faith, as you know, and told her Antonia needed to make her peace with him before it was too late. I talked to Antonia the other night, and I tried—I really tried—to convince her that she should tell him about her and Faith before it was too late. I explained that I had to be free to end the marriage, because I needed to be with you, but she got really upset and slammed the phone down on me. I was so worried about her, that I travelled down to see her, to talk things through with her. Unfortunately for me, she'd decided to come up to Yorkshire to confront me, which is why you heard what you heard. I'm so sorry, Cara. I never meant for you to find out that way. You must have hated me."

  "Hating you would have been easy," I said. "It was loving you that made it so difficult." I leaned over and kissed him softly. "I'm sorry I left you without giving you the chance to explain."

  "I understand," he said. "I'm just glad you changed your mind."

  "And I'm sorry my ex-boyfriend tried to burn your house down."

  "Hmm. Well, we've both got skeletons in the closet," he said, smiling.

  "So, what about Antonia? What has she decided to do?"

  "She's going to see her father, as soon as she's well enough. Tell him about his grandsons. He's not got long, and she'll continue spinning the lie. He'll assume they're my children, and she'll let him assume. When he's gone, she'll go through a tough time of it. Guilt, regret …. I can see it happening, but I just can't make her understand. Still, at least she'll finally be able to live an honest life with the woman she loves." He stood up and faced me, his expression nervous. "I'm sorry, Cara, I really am, but I don't think she'll ever tell her father the truth, and I can't force her to do it. I don't want her to stress about anything, not when she's just given birth and she's got those two little boys to worry about. I can't annul the marriage just yet. I know what I said, but—"

  I smiled. "Of course you can't annul it yet! She's got enough to deal with. Anyway, what does it matter? We have the rest of our lives together. We can wait a bit longer."

  "As long as it takes?"

  "Forever, if necessary. I'm going nowhere, Mr Rochester. I'll never leave you again."

  "Promise?"

  I stood up and kissed him gently on the forehead. He closed his eyes, but not before I'd seen the relief in them.

  "As soon as we're able, we'll be married," he promised me.

  "I'll hold you to that."

  "No need." He wrapped his arms around me, and it was like coming home. "I know a good thing when I see it. This Mr Rochester has finally found his Truelove."

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  One year later. Paddington, London.

  Michael opened the door of the Daimler for me, smiling broadly. I guess my emotions were written all over my face. "It went well, then, Mrs Rochester?"

  "Brilliantly," I said, as I climbed into the backseat. "Ethan won't be a moment, then we'll have something to show you." I straightened the hem of my Stella McCartney dress, dropped my Jenny Kingston bag on the floor, and kicked off my Louboutin shoes, sighing with relief. I couldn't wait to change into my comfy jeans, pull my hair into a ponytail, and get back to normal.

  "Excellent. I can't wait." He closed the door after me, then took his own seat at the front.

  "Have you heard from Mrs F?" I asked, as he adjusted the rear-view mirror. I noticed the amused expression in his reflection, and tutted at my mistake. "Sorry, Michael. I can't get used to her new name. I mean, have you heard from Mrs Lawson?"

  He grinned. "Of course. My good lady wife has only just put down the phone, as it happens. She sends her love. She can't wait to see you."

  "And everything's okay?"

  "Marvellous. She says the house looks wonderful, better than ever, and Mr Rochester's new art studio is amazing. He's going to love it."

  "And Adele?"

  "Currently installed in her new playroom and having afternoon tea with some of her schoolfriends."

  Smiling, I took out my phone, delighted to see a message from Tamsin.

  Redmond's invited us all to Baby Freddie's christening. Hope you're up for a trip to Lewis? We've just been to an ice cream parlour. I'm completely stuffed. Fabulous ice creams, though
, worth every calorie. Brad sends his love and the kids are dying to see you. How's it going? Mum and Dad said today's the big day. Any news yet?

  A trip to Lewis. I was desperate to see my gorgeous, red-haired nephew again, and I knew my husband would be keen to go with me. He'd really taken to my family, even Redmond, in spite of the pompous man-to-man chat he'd insisted on having with Ethan at our wedding. At least Kitty had tactfully cut it short in a very loving and gentle way. Adele would enjoy the trip, too. Alice and Robyn had quite taken her under their wings at the wedding, and I knew she'd be glad to see them again.

  As the car door opened and Ethan jumped in beside me, my smile spread even wider, if that were possible. "You got it?"

  "Of course. It's perfect, darling. Look."

  I peered at the photograph he held in his hand, hardly able to believe what I was seeing. "Oh, gosh," I said, "how can such a grainy picture be so wonderful?"

  He laughed. "It is a bit grainy," he admitted. "Nevertheless, it's the best photograph I've ever seen. I'm going to frame it. Look, Michael," he said, leaning forward and waving the picture in an amused Michael's face.

  "Wonderful," Michael said, gruffly. "I'm very happy for you both."

  I suspected he was being kind. It was very difficult to make it out clearly, to be honest. Those things usually were, weren't they?

  As Ethan and Michael cooed over the picture, I picked up my phone and sent a text to Tamsin, Mum, Dad and Redmond.

  Just left St Mary's hospital. First scan. All well. Baby Rochester is thriving. I'm very happy xx

  Ethan leaned back and put his arm around me, as Michael started the car. "I'm very happy, too," he murmured, nodding at my phone. "In fact, I've never been happier in my life."

  "Home, sir?" Michael enquired.

  "Home, Michael," Ethan confirmed, then kissed the top of my head, as I curled up against him, and we began the long journey, back to our house on the moors.