Carole Mortimer - Romance of A Lifetime

by Romance of A Lifetime

  'All the more reason for me to at least talk to Brenda,' Beth said grimly.

  'I doubt she will thank you for it either,' her mother sighed knowingly. 'Young girls in love don't, you know.'

  'At least my conscience will be clear,' Beth frowned.

  'Your father and Martin don't have consciences,' her mother said hardly.

  'You don't have to tell me that,' she grated.

  'No, of course I don't.' Her mother squeezed her hand understandingly. 'Anyway, enough about them,' she dismissed with distaste. 'Tell me about your holiday.'

  Marcus Craven…

  All the beautiful and wondrous things she had seen, and yet she knew what she would remember most about the holiday was meeting Marcus Craven.

  Her mother was watching her with narrowed eyes. 'What happened to the man you met in Verona?' she probed thoughtfully.

  Colour flared in Beth's cheeks, and she avoided her mother's gaze, knowing that would instantly look suspicious but unable to do anything else.

  'I expect he's back home too now,' she answered evasively.

  'And?'

  She frowned at her mother. 'And he found the opera as moving as I did.' She shrugged her puzzlement with the question.

  God, if her mother ever learnt he had followed her to Venice and then escorted her back to England…! Her mother would be asking him his intentions by now if he had come into the flat with her!

  'Is that all he found moving?' Her mother looked disappointed. 'Didn't you see him again after that?'

  'Well… yes.' She was reluctant to lie when asked a direct question. 'But holiday friendships never come to anything, do they?'

  'A "friendship", hmm?' Her mother settled down comfortably in a chair. 'What sort of friendship was it?'

  'Purely platonic, Mother, I can assure you.' She deliberately stopped herself thinking of those nerve-shattering kisses they had shared, several of them only minutes ago.

  'Oh.' Her mother looked disappointed. 'So you aren't going to see him again?'

  'I don't even know where he lives,' Beth evaded truthfully.

  'What a waste,' her mother reproved. 'And he was—interesting, you said?'

  'Reasonably.' She deliberately 'tplayed it low-key. 'But he isn't important now, Mummy. As I said, I doubt I will ever see him again. The main thing now is to see Brenda as soon as possible.'

  'Darling, you can't just walk up to the girl and tell her she's marrying the wrong man,' she was warned.

  'It's what I feel like doing!'

  Her mother shook her head. 'It would just look like sour grapes on your part.'

  'She's welcome to him!' Beth said vehemently.

  'You see,' her mother grimaced. 'You sound like "a woman scorned".'

  'But——'

  'As the ex-wife you're bound to be viewed with suspicion, anyway,' her mother reasoned. 'Brenda will just assume you're still in love with Martin and feel jealous of their engagement.'

  Beth swallowed hard, feeling ill at the thought of that; the last thing she felt about this engagement was jealous. Just the thought of the fate in store for Brenda was enough to make her feel… 'I don't care what she thinks,' she said fiercely. 'If I can't make her see sense then I'll talk to Sean. He may be a businessman, like Charles, but there the similarity ends. And he was always very kind to me when we did meet.'

  'He could afford to be then, Beth,' her mother pointed out gently. 'You didn't pose any threat to his daughter's happiness.'

  It was starting to sound more and more as if this was going to be more complicated than she had envisaged. But she wasn't going to just leave it, no matter how nasty it might become.

  'The Trents are having a party on Saturday. I've already checked that Martin and Brenda will be there, and I've organised an invitation for both of us too,' her mother announced triumphantly.

  Beth hadn't been in long from work when she received the telephone call. Much to her mother's disgust she had insisted on returning to work in the London boutique, which she now managed for her mother again, the day after she returned from her holiday.

  She hadn't expected her mother to get back to her quite so soon!

  'Saturday?' she repeated with a yawn, having instantly tensed at the thought of seeing Martin again, something she had deliberately avoided doing. But she had one more day to get used to the idea. 'You don't have to go too if you don't want to,' she assured her mother. 'I won't be staying long.'

  'You hope,' her mother returned drily. 'And I have no intention of letting you, figuratively speaking, walk into the lion's den alone. I let you do it once before——'

  'And we both know what happened that time,' Beth finished roughly. 'But Barbara and Alec are hardly lions, and I doubt Martin would dare to make a scene at their home.'

  'I never put anything beyond that man,' her mother said grimly. 'I'll pick you up at nine o'clock on Saturday.'

  It was easier to just give in when her mother sounded this stubborn, and in truth Beth would rather not go to the party alone. She wasn't frightened of Martin, or anything else he might try to do to her, but it was a long time since she had mixed with those other people on a social level. Then she had been Charles's daughter and Martin's wife, and now she was neither of those things. Now she was her own person—at least, trying to be.

  'Unless there's someone else you would rather go with?' her mother asked almost coyly.

  Marcus… Her mother had to mean Marcus. He was the only man she had mentioned to her during the whole of the last year.

  But of course she hadn't heard from him yet; it was only a day since they had arrived back from Venice. And he was the last person she would want to meet Martin!

  'No,' she answered drily. 'Nine o'clock on Saturday it is.'

  'Beth——-'

  'Mummy, I've just walked in the door. My feet ache, and I'm hungry, and——-'

  'And you don't want to sit there talking to me any longer,' her mother finished wryly.

  Especially if it was about Marcus Craven. She was trying not to even think about him, and it was proving more difficult than she had imagined. 'Saturday, Mummy.' She rang off quickly before her mother could question her any further.

  She almost fell off the chair when the telephone began to ring again the instant she put down the receiver, snatching it up again. 'Yes?' she barked irritably. Really, after the hectic day she had had, all she wanted to do was put her feet up and eat a leisurely meal.

  'Beth?'

  All thoughts of relaxing this evening left her at the sound of Marcus's voice so soon after she had been made to think of him yet again!

  How had he got her telephone number? What could he want?

  'Yes?' Her voice sounded stilted now in her surprise.

  'Have I caught you at a bad moment?' The amusement could be heard in his voice.

  Any moment would be a bad moment; she was never quite prepared for him. 'I've just got in from work,' she admitted impatiently.

  'Alone?'

  'Yes—alone,' she snapped irritably. 'I work alone, I live alone——-'

  'Sounds as if you could do with some company, in that case,' he drawled, as usual unaffected by her curt manner. 'Would you like to go out to dinner?'

  'Tonight?' she frowned; all she wanted to do tonight was soak in a hot bath for an hour or so and then curl up in bed with a book that didn't take too much concentration.

  'Perhaps not,' Marcus derided, easily picking up on her mood. 'How about tomorrow?'

  'Tomorrow is my late night at the shop,' she refused, gently easing her shoes off, at once feeling a little less irritable. In just those few days away she had got out of the habit of being on her feet all day; strolling along at her leisure hardly constituted the same thing, especially when there had been numerous outside cafes she could relax in when she felt like a rest!

  'Saturday, then?'he persisted.

  She had just made alternative arrangements for Saturday, and she had no intention of breaking them, despite the curiosity she felt about
whether or not Marcus would seem as attractive now they were back in London, or whether it really had just been a 'holiday romance'.

  'I'm going to a party,' she had to refuse.

  'I could go with you,' he instantly offered— as she should have realised he might.

  'Er—no, I don't think so,' she grimaced. She was dreading the party enough already, without that.

  'I see,' Marcus drawled knowingly, obviously completely misunderstanding the situation. 'Perhaps it would be better if I telephoned you on Sunday some time and we could go through the list of your engagements for next week?'

  He was annoyed by her evasiveness, she could tell that. But perhaps Sunday would be a better day for them to talk; the unpleasant task ahead of her should be over by then, and maybe she could start to think of herself and the attraction she felt towards Marcus.

  'As far as I'm aware, I don't have any engagements for next week,' she replied coolly. ‘So a telephone call on Sunday sounds perfect.'

  'But not too early, hmm?' he taunted.

  'Sunday /s the traditional day for lying in.' She deliberately didn't rise to the bait of his mockery.

  'I'm not going to state the obvious,' he rasped. 'I'll speak to you again on Sunday.' He rang off with his usual curtness.

  Beth put the receiver down more slowly this time, still a little stunned that Marcus had attained her telephone number and called her at all. He had meant it about seeing her again soon!

  She wanted to see him again; she admitted it, to herself at least.

  But she certainly wasn't prepared to see him only seconds after she had entered Barbara and Alec Trent's home on Saturday evening!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As promised, Beth's mother picked her up at nine o'clock on Saturday evening, approving the black cocktail dress Beth had chosen to wear with her hair falling loosely to her shoulders as usual, her make-up attractive, although she had applied more rouge than usual, her cheeks very pale as she dreaded the ordeal ahead of her. Martin could be one of the most unpleasant people she had ever known when thwarted.

  'You look wonderful, darling,' her mother assured at her nervousness as they went down to the car, looking very attractive herself in a red sheath of a dress that complemented the tan she had acquired on her travels.

  'Ready to take on anything?' Beth derided ruefully.

  'You don't have to face him alone,' her mother told her grimly. 'It would give me great pleasure to reduce him to the worm that he is.'

  'People like him and Charles bounce back stronger than ever,' Beth sighed, resting back in her car seat with her eyes closed on the drive to the Trents' home.

  She had no sooner got in the door to the house, given her jacket to the butler, engaged in polite conversation with Barbara about some trivial matter—although she would guess that her hostess would much rather have questioned her about the divorce and Martin's new engagement —when she saw Marcus across the elegant lounge in conversation with their host!

  His devastating good looks in the black dinner suit and snowy white shirt, his air of quiet authority, would have drawn attention to him no matter where he might be, and Beth could see several of the women in the room eye him speculatively, their interest obvious.

  But Beth knew she would have seen him instantly anyway, her own attraction towards him undeniable.

  'What the hell are you doing here?'

  Beth had been so intent on Marcus that she hadn't even noticed Martin's approach until he rasped those angry words in her ear, turning to him with as much control as she could muster given the circumstances. 'Good evening, Martin,' she greeted coolly, looking up at his too-handsome face with the over-charming smile, his body elegantly slender rather than powerful. She couldn't help wondering, after looking so recently at Marqus, how she could have fallen for Martin in the first place!

  There were several years' difference in the two men's ages, Martin thirty to Marcus's mid-thirties, and yet it owed nothing to this difference in ages that in comparison with the other man Martin looked weak and affected. Beth knew to her cost that Martin was weak where money was in question.

  'I asked what you're doing here?' he bit out forcefully, fury glittering in his blue eyes.

  ‘I———‘

  'Well, hello, Martin.' Katherine joined them, her eyes hard with warning as she looked at him.

  Martin never had been quite sure how to behave with Katherine. After all, she was still Charles's wife, even if the older couple had been separated for years. And as usual he obviously felt caught between what he would really like to say to her and what he felt he could in the circumstances. 'Katherine,' he nodded an abrupt greeting.

  Green eyes glittered Katherine's contempt for him; she was well aware of his discomfort, and pleased by the situation he found himself in. 'I believe congratulations are in order for you,' she drawled contemptuously. 'And condolences for Brenda, of course,' she added hardly.

  'I believe one extends felicitations for the future bride,' Martin ground out tautly.

  'Really?' Katherine seemed to consider the suggestion for a few moments, and then she shook her head. 'No, I believe I was right the first time,' she said coldly, giving him a slow scathing look. 'Where is the poor unfortunate girl?'

  'Powdering her nose,' he grated. 'But I don't want you—- '

  'Don't try your little threatening games with me, Martin,' she warned him in a dangerously soft voice. 'I've been dealing with an expert for years, and you aren't in his league!'

  'Yet,' he challenged, in no doubt whom she alluded to.

  Katherine looked him over slowly, and Beth could only stand back and admire her mother's control; caught off guard as she had been, after seeing Marcus so unexpectedly, she hadn't been ready for Martin's appearance. Her mother had sensed her disconcertion, although she couldn't guess the reason for it, and had taken over the conversation—very successfully, Beth acknowledged with amusement.

  'Ever,' Katherine told him tauntingly. 'Oh, I'll admit you're well on your way to being a first-class bastard like he is, but you simply don't have what it takes to really be able to step into Charles's shoes. Your success depends on too many other people; Charles succeeded in spite of other people!'

  'Martin, I… Oh!'

  Quite what Martin's reply would have been to her mother's baiting Beth wasn't sure, joined at that moment as they were by Brenda Carlisle, a petite brunette who looked even tinier as she came to stand at Martin's side.

  Beth knew the other girl slightly, but she had been away at school when Beth had first joined her father in London, had then gone on to finishing school for a year, and so the two of them had never really had a chance to become friends. And now they never would! At best Brenda would dislike her for trying to interfere, at worst the other girl would hate her for ultimately proving to be correct about Martin.

  To say the younger girl was disconcerted at seeing Beth and her mother talking to Martin would be an understatement; she looked absolutely stunned. And Beth could only guess at the stories Martin had related to her about their marriage.

  'Brenda,' she greeted smoothly. 'What a beautiful dress,' she said with sincerity.

  'Thank you.' Brenda eyed her suspiciously, obviously wary of her motive for being so friendly. 'It's the same colour as—it's one of my favourite colours,' she hastily amended, her cheeks red.

  Beth guessed the young girl had chosen to wear the figure-hugging green gown because it matched the colour of the emerald in her engagement ring. She had noticed the engagement ring almost within-seconds of the younger girl joining them; her own engagement ring had also had an emerald as its central stone.

  Martin couldn't even be original in that, had probably told Brenda that the green of the emerald matched the flecks of green in her brown eyes! He had told Beth the emerald in her ring matched the colour of her eyes too…

  Her mouth tightened as she turned to Martin. 'I was about to ask you how Chloe is.' She met his furious gaze challengingly. 'But of course it's rude of me to
talk of people Brenda doesn't know. Or have you met Chloe?' She looked innocently at the younger girl.

  Brenda looked puzzled. 'No, I—um—I don't think so.' She looked completely blank at the mention of the other woman's name.

  Beth didn't doubt that she hadn't!

  She gave Martin a saccharin-sweet smile. 'You must ask Martin to introduce the two of you,'

  she told Brenda. 'Or perhaps I could—- '

  'Brenda, I think we should go and say hello to the Daniels,' Martin cut in forcefully, his gaze glacial as it swept over Beth. 'I trust you'll excuse us?'

  'Never,' Katherine answered him hardly. 'But do go and say hello to the Daniels, by all means,' she added dismissively, her expression contemptuous.

  'Who is.Chloe?' Brenda could be heard asking in a whisper as the other couple moved away.

  'I would love to hear his answer,' Beth remarked drily to her mother, taking the opportunity now they were alone to look around the room for Marcus.

  He was now in conversation with Barbara, although he was looking straight at Beth!

  She nodded acknowledgement of himt her cheeks becoming flushed as he excused himself to cross the room towards her.

  'So would I—— '

  'Mummy, someone is coming to join us,' she hastily cut into her mother's reply. 'Whatever you do, don't talk about Martin!'

  Her mother looked surprised. 'But:—'

  'Hello, Marcus,' Beth greeted softly as he stood in front of her. This is something of a surprise.' That had to be the biggest understatement…!

  'Next week seemed too far away,' he answered softly, his gaze resting briefly on her lips.

  But it was enough to make her feel as if his lips had gently touched hers! She couldn't believe the effect this man had on her.

  'You said a party,' he continued huskily. 'So I made it my business to find out which party. I took a chance on your coming alone,' he added with a curious look at her mother.

  Beth had given up wondering how this man attained the information that he did; just learning to accept that he did was easier than fighting against him!

  'This is my mother, {Catherine Palmer. Mummy, Marcus Craven.' She didn't add any more about him because she didn't know any more. Only that he kept following her, and she wasn't going to tell her mother that't