Imogen was rocking to and fro in the car seat.
‘Yes, but words are dangerous things. Once said they can’t be taken back. He’s expecting a wedding.’
‘So we’ll give him one.’
She could feel her jaw dropping.
‘You’re not serious!’
‘I’ve already explained once that I don’t say things I don’t mean.’
‘I think I’m going to faint,’ she said weakly.
Blair laughed. ‘No, you’re not. But I’ll tell you what you are going to do. You’re going to tell me if you want to go ahead with this marriage of convenience. If you don’t, then, yes, I will tell your father that I was stringing him along. If you do, then we let matters rest and make our plans. So what do you say, Imogen?’
Still in a state of complete shock, she fixed him with her wide hazel gaze and thought that she was half in love with him already. It wouldn’t take much to make her go all the way. But did she want a loveless marriage? Pity from a man who if he wanted could pick and choose when it came to her sex and might come to regret having made the gesture?
‘I say yes,’ she said slowly. ‘On one condition. That we each leave the other free to go their own way in the future if they want to.’
For a moment she thought he was startled, but it passed and he said smoothly, ‘Right. Agreed. Tomorrow we’ll buy you a ring and then we’ll have a look at some four-bedroomed houses. Simon will be delighted to find that he’s going to have my apartment all to himself.’
‘Why four-bedroomed houses?’ she asked, still in the same slow tone of bemusement.
‘One for me, one for you, one for the baby and a guest room.’
‘Yes, I see,’ she said flatly. He couldn’t have put it any plainer than that.
When they reached her apartment Blair stayed in the car. ‘Don’t lie awake all night, thinking about it,’ he said, winding down the window. ‘If you have any concerns, we’ll discuss them tomorrow.’
She nodded and, still dazed and unbelieving, went inside.
If Blair had been relaxed while he’d been with Imogen, he was in a more sombre mood after he’d left her. He’d told her that he’d misled Brian on impulse. But if he was honest he had to admit that claiming to be the father of Imogen’s child had already been a half-formed idea in his mind before she’d told the older couple her news. And once she’d done so, the chief constable’s reaction had turned it into reality.
But was Imogen falling in with the idea willingly? he asked himself. She’d been quick to stipulate that they should each have an escape route, which he supposed was on a par with his allocation of the bedrooms. It was a pretty loveless arrangement all round.
Yet he’d known that he wanted to take care of her the previous day when she’d wept in his arms. Suddenly it hadn’t mattered that another man had made her pregnant. She was young and impetuous…and beautiful. And if she wanted to mourn the other guy, it would be only natural.
He accepted that the idea of them getting married was crazy. They barely knew each other. But it hadn’t stopped him from suggesting it. A smile tugged at his lips. If he was willing to put up with old Rossiter for a father-in-law, he really must be insane.
Imogen was no doormat, far from it, but dealing with her father was like stumbling into a chamber of horrors. In future the autocratic policeman would have himself to deal with first when he wanted to get heavy-handed with his daughter.
And now, as he paused outside Simon’s door, he was about to contradict what he’d told his brother the night before. From assuring him that there was nothing between Imogen and himself, he was about to go to the other extreme by telling him that he was marrying her. And when Simon heard about the pregnancy he would jump to the same conclusion as everyone else.
‘I’m not surprised,’ Lauren said after Blair had made a brief announcement about the forthcoming wedding to the staff the following morning. ‘Dr Nesbitt hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you from the first day you came here.’
Imogen managed a smile.
‘That wasn’t love. It was because he wasn’t sure about me. He’d taken me on against his better judgement.’
‘Well, whatever it was, you’ve obviously passed the test,’ the other woman said laughingly, ‘and I’m sure that you’ll be very happy together.’
Fighting off the feeling of unreality that was covering her like a cloak, Imogen gave her a squeeze and said, ‘It will only be a quiet wedding as I’m pregnant, but will you be my bridesmaid?’
‘Of course,’ Lauren said enthusiastically, and with a meaningful glance out of the window at Simon, who had just pulled up outside, continued, ‘I’ve never been a bridesmaid or a bride, but I’m working on it and what better set-up than to have a husband who’s a chef? Simon comes in here frequently for one thing or another and we have a lot in common.’
Imogen laughed. ‘If that’s the way your mind’s working, we’ll be ending up related.’
‘Can you spare a minute?’ Simon asked her when he came through the door.
Lauren excused herself and Imogen observed him warily. The look on his face told her that Blair had put him in the picture.
‘I don’t know what your game is, Dr Rossiter,’ he said in a low voice, ‘but don’t mess Blair about. They don’t come any better than my older brother, and I can’t believe that he’s made you pregnant. He doesn’t sleep around and he’s a doctor, for goodness’ sake. But, then, so are you, I suppose. If you’re foisting some other man’s child off on to him, you have some nerve.’
She wanted to defend herself against the accusation, but how could she because she was doing exactly that? Would he believe her if she told him that the whole idea had been Blair’s? He might, but Simon could still come back at her by telling her she could have said no.
Instead, she told him coolly. ‘I think the circumstances of our marriage are our affair. I would have thought you’d be pleased as Blair says he’s going to leave you in the apartment.’
‘I am pleased about that, but not to the extent that I want to see him sacrifice himself for some streetwise woman who has taken his fancy.’
Anger was surfacing now. It was bad enough, her father passing judgement on her, but now it was the turn of Blair’s nearest and dearest to say their piece.
‘You’re very insulting,’ she said, hiding her distress. ‘Have you said all this to Blair?’
‘Yes.’
‘I see. And what did he say?’
‘Not a lot. But, then, he wouldn’t. He prefers to keep his affairs to himself. Though as the wedding is going to be soon, I suppose he thought it best to tell me the full story.’
Not exactly the full story, she thought. The last thing Blair would want would be for anyone to know that he was marrying her to protect her. Her brother-in-law-to-be wouldn’t be surmising if he’d told him that. But he was dangerously close to the truth.
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me,’ she told him. ‘It would be better if you made any comments that you might have to Blair. And I think that Lauren would like a word with you before you leave. Why don’t you keep out of my affairs and see to your own?’
‘Huh?’ he questioned, finding himself neatly sidetracked, but Imogen had gone, closing the door of her consulting room behind her with a decisive click.
Blair had been closeted with a salesman from one of the big pharmaceutical companies while this had been going on, and when he surfaced he said, ‘Did I hear Simon’s voice earlier?’
‘Yes,’ Imogen told him, raking her dark mop with an agitated hand. ‘He came in to give me the third degree. He’s not far off guessing the truth, Blair. Your brother thinks that if the baby is yours I’m guilty of entrapment, and if it isn’t I have a cheek foisting it off on you. Either way, I suppose he has justification for not being too keen about what we’re planning.’
‘Forget about Simon,’ he said calmly. ‘It’s usually me looking out for him. It will do him no harm to think about someone oth
er than himself for once. And now, about that ring.’
‘You’re intending going ahead with it, then, in spite of what Simon said?’
‘He’ll calm down once he’s adjusted. Earlier this morning I told the staff here that we’re going to be married and I meant it. You heard me, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, I heard you.’
‘So we’ll meet up when we’ve finished our calls and visit the nearest jeweller’s.’
‘Does it matter about a ring when it’s all a sham?’ she asked flatly.
‘Even if I didn’t think it necessary, your father would expect it,’ he said blandly. ‘So let’s consider it settled.’
‘Yes, but—’ she protested.
He placed a finger on her lips. ‘Stop making difficulties, Imogen. Start rehearsing the role of the happy bride-to-be.’
CHAPTER FIVE
ACT the happy bride-to-be, Imogen thought dismally as she turned away. She’d never been less happy about anything in her life. If Blair had asked her to marry him because they were madly in love, she would have been walking on air. But it was far from that.
He’d described it as a marriage of convenience, and she had to admit it would be very convenient for her. A protective husband and a father for her child as part of the package, as well as a comfortable lifestyle as Blair’s wife.
But it would only be comfortable in a material sense. For the rest of it she would feel far from easy, knowing the circumstances that had brought it about.
What was he going to gain from it? she wondered. On the face of it…nothing. She’d been in his arms twice in recent days. The first time melting at his touch, aching for him to make love to her, but too guilt-ridden to let it proceed. And on the second occasion, what had she been like then? Sobbing out her misery.
Were either or both of those incidents connected with his sudden willingness to marry her? She doubted it. After the first time he’d held her he’d backed off as if he’d been burnt when she’d told him what was going on in her life, even though the next morning he’d had a change of heart. So why was he doing this?
She was the first to arrive at the jeweller’s they’d chosen in the main shopping area of the city, and as she waited outside the shop Imogen was even more acutely aware that under normal circumstances this would be a happy occasion. A man and woman in love, picking out a ring that would tell the world they’d chosen to spend the rest of their lives together.
But in their case it was a farce, and the more she thought about it the more she knew she couldn’t go through with it. They had ended up in this situation because of her father’s intimidating ways and Blair’s misguided concern.
He’d said that she needed looking after and she’d let him take over. But where had her independence gone? She was used to fending for herself. Had she fallen in with his plans because she wanted the man himself, on any terms?
Her face warmed as she admitted to herself there was something in that, but how could she be contemplating entering into something so important in so casual a manner?
And in the matter of her father, she’d faced up to him before on many things and she would do it again. He would have to be told the truth, and if he didn’t like it…
At that moment she saw Blair striding towards her through the lunchtime crowds and he was something to see. Head and shoulders above most of them, with cool purpose in the deep brown eyes that went so oddly with the fair pelt of his hair, the sight of him was making her blood warm, but it wasn’t wiping out her uncertainties.
Some people would say she was a fool, turning down the kind of life that Blair could give her. But a big house in the suburbs and a handsome husband would be heaven-sent only if there was love between them, instead of a fatherless baby.
‘So,’ he said with a smile for the sombre figure waiting for him, ‘what kind of stones do you like? Something warm and fiery like you, maybe. I feel that diamonds are cold stones. How about rubies or emeralds?’
Imogen shook her head. He was making it even harder than she’d expected.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I can’t go through with it, Blair. I know what you’re trying to do and I bless you for it, but I’ve got myself into this mess and it’s up to me to face up to it.’
As his face tightened with disbelief she went on, ‘I’m going to tell my father the truth. I’ve never lied to him before and I’m not going to start now. Whatever he thinks of me, at least it will improve your standing with him when he hears what I have to say as he wasn’t all that impressed when he thought you’d made me pregnant.’
‘I don’t care a damn what the old tyrant thinks of me,’ he said abruptly. ‘So that’s it, then. The shortest engagement ever. Well, there’s one person who will be pleased. Simon wasn’t too happy about it from the start.’
‘I’m not bothered about Simon,’ she said quickly. ‘How do you feel about it?’
He shrugged. ‘Does it matter? But you’d better come up with a convincing story for the staff at the practice when we get back. Like I said, it must have been the shortest engagement on record.’
‘I’ll tell them that we’ve decided to wait until the baby’s born before doing anything about getting married.’
‘Tell them what you like,’ he said in the same brusque tone. ‘But don’t expect me to go with you the next time you visit your father. And now, as I have some unexpected time on my hands, I’m going to do a home visit to the widow of an old friend who seems to be going down with something or other. I’ll see you back at the practice.’
After coping with the astonishment of Lauren and the rest of them at the sudden change of plans, Imogen settled down to face the late afternoon surgery, having decided that once it was over she was going to visit her father, this time unannounced.
She’d heard Blair come back from the home visit that he’d mentioned and had kept out of his way. She sensed that he wasn’t pleased at the way she’d backed out of the engagement and wasn’t sure why.
He probably thought it was in keeping with her lack of common sense, she thought wryly. But surely he must be relieved to some degree. It had been on impulse that he’d offered to marry her and now she’d let him off the hook.
Her own feelings she was keeping bottled up. Time to bring them out into the open when she was alone in the privacy of her own place. And as the first patient of the afternoon came into her consulting room, she tuned in to someone else’s needs instead of her own.
Michael Sullivan was a retired solicitor. Extremely fit for his age, he led an active social life and his records showed that it had been years since he’d consulted his GP. But today he was seating himself opposite and telling her, ‘One of my eyelids keeps drooping, and apart from the fact that it’s very irritating I would like to know the reason.’
When Imogen went round to the other side of the desk and examined his eye with an ophthalmoscope there was no sign of anything amiss, but it was a fact that patients suffering from ptosis, the medical term for drooping of the eyelid, could be at risk of a brain tumour or cerebral aneurysm, so it was up to their GP to have those possibilities checked out.
‘You’ve not had a blow to the eye or any other kind of injury to that part of your face?’ she questioned.
He shook his head.
‘No. Nothing like that. It just came from nowhere.’
‘This kind of thing does sometimes happen for no obvious reason,’ she told him. ‘But to be on the safe side I’m going to send you for a brain scan.’
‘Good,’ he said briskly. ‘I’m not the sort of man to waste time in any area of my life, and if there is something amiss I want to know.’
Imogen smiled.
‘That’s good. You’d be surprised how many patients don’t want to know.’
He was eyeing her appreciatively.
‘How long have you been with the practice?’
‘A matter of weeks. I was with a practice in the Midlands before.’
‘I see. Well,
nice to have met you, Dr Rossiter,’ he said. ‘Although I would have preferred it to be under happier circumstances.’
He got to his feet and, still observing her keenly, said, ‘Rossiter. The name’s familiar. Not related to Brian Rossiter, the chief constable, are you?’
Here we go again, she thought glumly. Would she ever be allowed to forget it?
‘He’s my father.’
‘Well, I never! Stalwart chap. A force to be reckoned with…which is what the county needs.’
‘Yes. I’m sure it is,’ she agreed stiffly, with the thought of the ‘force’ in question saying his piece that evening when he heard what she had to say.
Michael Sullivan was followed by two young women who’d come to arrange for the injections that would keep them safe while backpacking round the world.
They were of a similar age to herself, and she couldn’t help thinking how different their lives were to her own. They were free and she was…what?
A mother-to-be, she told herself, and in spite of the complications that it brought with it her eyes sparkled at the thought.
But it was still all a long way off. Before anything else she had to talk to Blair, find out how he really felt about her decision not to marry him, while at the same time not letting him see how hard it had been to call off the wedding.
And when she’d done that and had told her father the truth, hopefully she would be able to put her mind to just two things—her pregnancy and the job.
‘So you’re still determined to tell your father that the wedding’s off,’ Blair said as they met briefly on the practice forecourt at the end of the day.
Imogen nodded.
‘Yes, I’m going there now. And, Blair…?’
‘What?’
‘Can we talk?’
‘What about?’
‘Us.’
‘Us!’ he exclaimed. ‘There isn’t an us, Imogen. I know what was in your mind when you said you couldn’t go through with the wedding. You want to prove that you can go it alone, don’t you? Well, that’s fine by me. I was merely trying to help.’
The Pregnant Police Surgeon Page 7
