Substitute Bride

by Margaret Pargeter

  'Emma!' Miles refused to take any notice of her distress, believing he knew the cause of it. He was so rapidly losing control that her alarm grew and showed in the helpless widening of her eyes as he raced on. 'Emma, I want you— but for my wife. Get a divorce—God knows it's easy enough these days. I love you. I want to marry you, to be able to look after you for the rest of your life.'

  Dear heavens, were all the men on the island going mad? No—Emma tried firmly to calm down. It was only Ben and Miles who persisted in going to such foolish lengths. It must be another of fate's cruel jokes that Ben happened to be Rick's stepbrother while Miles was Veronica's family. Rick would be furious if anything of this ever reached his ears. Emma shivered. What a perfect fool she had been!

  'Say something, Emma, please!' His voice thickening, Miles grasped her stiff shoulders. 'You must have guessed how I felt. I wasn't sure how you did, not until you accepted my bracelet.'

  'Let go of her Ray!'

  Horrified, Emma twisted in Miles's grasp. Ben stood over them, his face white with temper. 'She belongs to me!' he shouted at Miles, despite Emma's efforts to silence him. 'You'd better get out of here!'

  Miles retaliated grimly, although he obviously had no ambition to create a scene. 'Don't be a fool, Ben,' he snapped. 'Use your sense. You couldn't hope to give her what I can, and I don't believe she even cares for you.'

  For Emma it was like a nightmare after that. Ben, faced with indisputable facts, sought to relieve his frustration in the best way he knew. Instinctively, as rage overwhelmed his common sense, he lashed out. Emma, terrified something like this was going to happen, tried to come between the two men, but received the glancing impact of Ben's fist on the side of her face.

  Ben, amazingly, didn't appear to hear her cry of pain, or if he did it failed to penetrate the mounting violence of his emotions. He had always disliked Miles Ray and this opportunity to avenge himself of past slights, if nothing else, seemed too good to miss. Blindly he thrust Emma aside, so she fell against a thorny bush, doing more damage to her already bruised features.

  Dazed, Emma opened her eyes to stare, in a kind of fascinated horror, at the ensuing fight. Miles and Ben were evenly matched, although Ben was the younger and heavier. Miles might have more of the world's wealth, but it became apparent that Ben was superior in strength. His fist hit Miles squarely and he went down with a thump.

  Not so easily defeated, he shot up again and battled on, while Emma, scrambling hysterically to her own two feet, tried in vain to part them. She never knew whose elbow caught her as she attempted to stop the fight, but, half fainting from a blow which made her feel sick, she toppled over, tears of helpless mortification running down her face. Huddled in a heap, she heard the fight continuing, feeling so weak that she wasn't even able to run and seek help.

  Then suddenly, from the darkness, completely unexpected, another man appeared, one taller and broader, with lean, well disciplined muscles of steel. Within seconds he had sized up the situation and torn the two other men apart. He shook them like rats, while the language he used was far from refined. In the light from the rising moon, his face was illuminated with an anger that far surpassed that of either of the men he was holding.

  Terrified, Emma shrank back, covering her sore, tear-drenched face with her hands as she tried to pretend Rick wasn't there. In vain she hoped he didn't know she was. Surely he didn't? Otherwise he couldn't possibly be uttering such terrible things, none of which were designed for the ears of a lady!

  It soon became obvious he did know she was there, as he turned on her almost immediately, his voice still full of barely controlled fury. 'What the hell do you think you've been playing at, Emma? The minute my back's turned…'

  He had been gone nearly seven weeks! Emma would have liked to have accused him, but was too choked with sobs and shock to be able to manage even a single word in her own defence.

  'Look here, Conway, let me explain.' Miles's face was bright red as he strove to recover both his dignity and breath.

  'Shut up!' Rick snarled, turning his back to him.

  Ben gasped and spluttered, staring with hatred at Miles. Miles could hit hard, but he was certain he would have been the winner. If Rick hadn't interfered. Swiftly he transferred his sullen indignation to his stepbrother.

  'He thinks he owns Emma,' he snapped, 'just because she's been going out with him.'

  Rick, as if suddenly finding the distraught, huddled figure of his wife particularly deplorable, ordered her grimly back to the house. 'Get out of my sight—and stay there!'

  Emma couldn't look at him, she felt too apprehensive at what she might see in his face to try. She would like to have said something on behalf of Miles and Ben, but her bewilderment at what had happened was so great it left her mind a complete blank. All she could think of was Rick's hate. After this he would surely hate her more than ever, and she felt lacerated more by this than by the pain of the blows she had received.

  Upstairs, in her room, she crouched on her bed as though the strength of Rick's wrath had already fallen on her. Clumsily she managed to dispose of her dress and huddle into the old woollen dressing-gown she had brought from the farm in England. It was the one thing she hadn't liked to leave home without, and now she felt oddly comforted by its familiar warmth. The semi-tropical night was warm, but she shivered with fear, which affected her like cold.

  When Rick arrived she was still in a huddle. Her face was a mess from Ben's accidental blows and tears, so she kept it hidden against her pillows. Feverishly she hoped that Rick's anger might have abated, but she judged from the sound of his voice as he spoke that it had not.

  'I can't leave you five minutes,' he said harshly, 'and you revert to what you were before I married you.'

  'What was that?' she whispered.

  'A slut!' he exclaimed emphatically.

  Shrinking away from his contempt, Emma sobbed afresh. 'It wasn't my fault, what you saw,' she gulped incoherently.

  'Whose fault was it, then?' She could feel his glance piercing the back of her head. 'You must have led them on and then said something to set them against each other!'

  'I haven't encouraged either of them.' She knew suddenly she could say this quite honestly. 'I don't know what they expected from me. They had a lot of silly ideas…'

  'About what?' he prompted sharply, as her voice trailed off.

  'Oh, nothing.' She couldn't bring herself to mention how both Ben and Miles had asked her to marry them. Quite probably by now they had both changed their minds. Anyway, Rick would never believe their intentions had been honourable.

  She knew she was right when Rick snarled, 'Men don't fight over a woman for nothing, and from you they could only look for one thing. As you've neither beauty or breeding it couldn't be anything else.'

  Desperately hurt, she tried to stifle anguished sobs. 'You're being completely unfair!'

  'Unfair!' he exploded on a tightening breath. 'Don't you realise I might have done murder tonight, if someone hadn't warned me what you were up to in time?'

  'Someone warned you?' Emma heard herself asking in bewilderment.

  'Someone kindly told me you'd accepted a valuable piece of jewellery from Miles Ray.'

  'But I didn't!' alarm made Emma's voice hoarse, 'He— I admit he wanted to give me something. He even brought it with him to the car, but I still refused.'

  'I don't want to hear any more lies!' She heard Rick's teeth snap and the sharp twist of his body as he grasped the handle of one of her dressing table drawers, pulling it open. As she removed her hands from her horrified eyes, she saw him lift out Miles's bracelet. 'As you've been showing it off to other people, why not me?' Rick rasped. 'What am I to suppose this is?'

  Completely stunned, Emma stared at it, unconscious now of her bruised and blotched face. The last time she had seen the bracelet it had been still in Miles's car. He had stopped insisting she should have it, as he eventually came to understand her point of view, and had left it in the car when they had
gone into his house for tea. Afterwards, when he had driven her home, it had gone, but she hadn't mentioned it. She had concluded, she recalled, that he had remembered and collected it and locked it away, when he had gone to the kitchen to order their tea.

  Someone must have put it in her drawer, but who? Blankly she continued staring at the sparkling stones in Rick's hand. 'I—I just don't know what to say,' she stammered. 'I haven't any idea how it got there, and that's the truth.'

  'Would you know the meaning of the word?' he asked insultingly, thrusting the bracelet in his pocket as he came to jerk her ruthlessly upright on the bed. He was so close his breath seemed to scorch her bruised skin and she closed her eyes against the picture he must be seeing. All her newly acquired beauty had gone, and her figure, wrapped in the old shapeless dressing-gown, must be exactly as he remembered it.

  Because she could feel tremors running through her from where his hands gripped, she swallowed, saying less than convincingly, 'If I'd taken the stupid thing why wasn't I wearing it tonight? Wouldn't you have expected a girl of my disreputable character to be showing it off?'

  'You might have been.'

  'Why don't you check?'

  'Be quiet!' His voice was icy cold and his fingers bit deeper. 'I've had just about enough of your lies and deceit. Your family have a rare gift for it. And you—you've caused nothing but trouble since I first met you, and it seems you aren't satisfied yet.'

  'You despised me, but it didn't stop you from using me,' she retorted.

  'If you served a purpose I'm certainly paying for it,' he exclaimed, his eyes grimly examining her hurt face. 'Now, on top of everything else, I find I'll have to take you to St Lusanda, otherwise everyone will imagine I've been beating you up.'

  'It was Ben and Miles,' tears overflowed again and she sniffed hastily, 'but it wasn't their fault I got in the way.'

  'And how would I explain that, exactly?' Rick's voice was loaded with sarcasm, his eyes scornful. 'Do I say— You must excuse my wife. Her two lovers happened to be fighting over her?'

  'No!' Emma's flush did nothing to improve her appearance. 'They weren't—aren't…'

  'Then stop arguing,' he cut her off tersely. 'You'll go to St Lusanda and stay there until I allow you to return. A few weeks on the island with only myself for company might straighten you out, if nothing else does. If I feel like it I might even teach you a lesson you won't forget in a hurry!'

  If Rick had loved her and asked her to go to St Lusanda with him Emma would have been delighted. Now such a prospect held little joy. She was terrified that, alone together on the island, she might betray how much she had come to love him, while he felt nothing for her but hate.

  'I'd rather go back to England,' she begged huskily, as he continued to study her face.

  His eyes, moving darkly over her, narrowed. 'If you did people would only believe the same as they would here. And I have no wish to supply Blanche, yet, with such irrefutable proof of my broken marriage.'

  Emma flinched, repeating miserably, 'I've told you it was Ben and Miles…'

  'And they'll pay for it,' he assured her, between his teeth, his eyes of a sudden glittering diabolically. 'You can take it from me they'll suffer, much more than you're doing.'

  'Rick,' she gasped, 'you—you won't do anything foolish? I'm—I'm not worth it,' she added, fearful that he might be letting himself in for a lot of trouble and thinking that might deter him.

  'I realise,' he replied grimly, 'but I can look after myself—as well as other people. I'll get Belasco to take you to St Lusanda in the morning. I'll follow later.'

  He sounded so adamant Emma huddled deeper in the old worn robe. 'Please, Rick, don't make me go,' she protested weakly. 'I promise I haven't done anything to justify being sent away like this.'

  'That's not the story I've heard,' he snapped, as if her insistence infuriated him. 'You've been behaving shamelessly. Dogs don't fight over a bone that isn't available.'

  'I won't go,' she cried, while dully realising the futility of protesting further. Rick would never believe she was innocent. Perhaps it suited him to think her guilty of the worst possible things?

  'You'll go!' For a moment his eyes smouldered fiercely and to her dismay he suddenly pulled her to him, holding her powerless as his mouth descended to silence her protesting cry.

  As his mouth brutally crushed hers, she hated him, but as she slumped against him and took fire she was again reminded that the state of her mind bore little relation to the reactions of her traitorous body.

  His kiss was harsh but brief, but before he lifted his head he muttered darkly against her shaking lips, 'Every woman I've taken to the island, so far, has hated it. The isolation upsets them and they're glad to return to what they call civilisation. For you there won't be any such chance, but I promise not to deprive you for ever of that which you obviously can't do without.'

  Belasco took her to the island next morning in Rick's powerful motor launch. It was fitted out with special seats and harness and Belasco told her proudly that the boss used it when he went fishing for barracuda. The powerful diesel engines cut through the water, soon leaving Barbados behind. At first Emma wondered that Rick dared entrust such an expensive boat to anyone else but himself. When she was younger, however, she had done a lot of sailing with her father and his friends and she soon saw that Belasco was an expert. There was nothing for her to worry about and, not knowing whether this was good or bad, she settled down against the bulkhead, alone with her thoughts.

  Last night, after issuing what seemed very like a savage threat, Rick had left her. A few minutes later he returned with hot milk and brandy, standing over her until she drank every drop. Before leaving her this time he had told her to lock the door behind him and not to open it to anyone. She had been too nervous to do anything else but obey, but she had been relieved that no one had even tried to see her. After bathing her face and using the ointment he brought her, she had gone to bed and tried to sleep.

  Rick hadn't been around this morning. It had been Belasco who had knocked and asked gently if she was ready to leave. In the early morning, before the other servants had been up, they had slipped away unseen. Had Rick been watching from some hidden vantage point? Emma was so sure he must have been that she had gone with Belasco quietly, refusing to give Rick the undoubted satisfaction of an undignified struggle.

  Now, as she gazed across the blue waters of the Caribbean, she wondered what lay in store for her. No matter how she tried she couldn't forget the hard fury on Rick's face when he had talked to her the previous evening. What did he intend doing? He might not intend carrying out his veiled threats. He might only mean to keep her on St Lusanda until it was time to get rid of her altogether. Wearily she closed sore eyes against the growing dazzle of the sun. She had longed to see his island, but not in this way! Occasionally, throughout the morning, she was aware of Belasco gazing at her curiously and she hoped, with a kind of morbid amusement, that he didn't imagine Rick was responsible for the state of her face.

  'I bumped into a tree in the garden,' she at last said uncomfortably. She hadn't meant to offer any explanation, but a tree had been part of it, and that might satisfy him.

  'Yes, miss,' he returned, so poker-faced she was sure he doubted her story. 'Sure looks nasty.'

  'My husband,' she stressed the latter word as Belasco had called her 'miss', and while she felt she must be mistaken, his tones seemed to question she was properly married. 'My husband,' she repeated severely, 'gave me something to put on it, so it will soon be all right.'

  'Everything soon be all right,' Belasco said earnestly, suddenly nodding his dark head.

  Emma merely shrugged, turning away, unable, just then, to care whether it would be or not.

  St Lusanda was certainly different from Barbados. Emma saw this immediately. She had lost count of the hours it took to get there. Part of the way she dozed, tired from her almost sleepless night and the drama which had led up, to it. At other times she had drunk the co
ffee Belasco kept her endlessly supplied with and stared sightlessly out to sea, trying hopelessly to visualise the future— the endless, empty stretches of it.

  The island was larger than she had thought it would be. Belasco appeared to confirm this when he told her that a lot of people lived there, many of whom went about their own business when they weren't engaged on the sugar plantations. They anchored by a jetty set in a beautiful greeny-blue lagoon and the few islanders who were gathered there glanced at her without too much curiosity. As she regarded them, Emma was very conscious of her discoloured face. She had done her best with a heavy make-up, but she had nothing that would completely disguise the ravages of her recent ordeal.

  None of the islanders seemed to realise she was Rick Conway's new wife, and Belasco didn't tell them. Emma was grateful to him for preserving her anonymity even while she was aware they would soon discover who she was. On an island this size it would be impossible to keep such a secret for ever.

  A driver was there for them as they came in. Again Belasco handled her gently as he helped her from the boat to the jetty and then to the waiting truck. He took particular care to see she was comfortable before he sat himself protectively beside her and instructed the driver to move off.

  The road was rough but by no means unbearably so and the island was so beautiful Emma didn't think she would have noticed if it had been. St Lusanda appeared to be encircled by pale silvery sands and blue seas which lapped coves which in turn were sheltered by the green mountains behind them. Over all lay a perfect peace, but she also sensed something of the isolation Rick had hinted at. Yet it wasn't this, so much, that made her suppress a sudden shiver. It was the frightening premonition that when she left she would be a vastly different girl from the one she was now.

  CHAPTER EIGHT