Roberta Leigh - In Name Only

by Roberta Leigh

  The rest of her words died away and she swayed and put her hand to her face. The room was revolving around her, the chandelier above her head zooming down and threatening to hit her. She put out her hands to clutch at a chair and Nicholas caught them, his hold tightening as she went completely limp.

  With an exclamation he carried her to the bed and set her down on it. Even in the dim light he could see she was deathly pale and his anxiety stirred sharply. He had never noticed before how thin she was. But then she barely ate anything, always seeming to toy with her food as though the very sight of it made her ill. Gently he chafed her icy hands, glancing at the telephone as he did so and wondering whether or not to call the doctor. But as he watched her, slight colour came back into her face and though she still remained inert, her breathing was less shallow.

  "Jane," he said urgently. "Jane, are you all right?"

  She nodded and went to draw her hand away, making him realise he was still holding it tightly.

  "I don't know why I said what I did," he went on. "I've no right to tell you what to do when my own behaviour's been so disgusting!"

  His words were so unexpected that she was afraid to believe she had heard them. Too often in the past she had wanted to read her own wishes into what Nicholas had said and too often she had been disappointed.

  "Don't look so surprised," he said ruefully. "I mean it. While you were out tonight I took a good long look at myself." He gave a short, unamused laugh. "What I saw wasn't very inspiring. I've behaved like a fool. A blind, stupid fool!"

  "Don't say that," she whispered. "You were angry at being forced to marry me and it made you bitter. I don't blame you for that. I might have acted in exactly the same way. I stopped you from marrying Carole and -"

  "Thank heavens you did!"

  She looked at him incredulously.

  "It's true," he added. "Marrying you was the best thing I ever did."

  "But Carole - what about Carole?"

  Unexpected colour stained his cheekbones, but he kept his eyes steadily on hers. "What words can a man use to describe stupid infatuation without appearing either a cad or a fool?" Unexpectedly he straightened and moved away from the bed, half disappearing into the shadows. "When I think of all the things I said to you, Jane, how bitter I was… I must have been crazy not to realise what I felt for you a year ago."

  "You were afraid," she whispered, even now hardly daring to believe in the happiness that seemed within her grasp.

  "I suppose I was." He came to stand beside her again. "I must have known that loving you would be a total commitment and I was afraid of it."

  "And now?"

  "My only fear is of losing you - that I may even have lost you already."

  "That's one fear you needn't have." She sat up and made a move towards him, but he forestalled her, his arms strong and warm around her.

  "Do you mean it, Jane?" he said huskily. "Do you mean it?"

  "I love you," she whispered. "I always have and I always will."

  Silently he gathered her in his arms, stroking her hair arid planting soft quick kisses against her closed eyelids. "I'll make up to you for everything," he said passionately. "We'll go away together - have a long honeymoon, just the two of us." He sensed rather than felt the shake of her head and he drew back and looked at her, puzzled. "What is it? Have I said anything wrong ? "

  Laughter bubbled inside her. "Not wrong, darling. Just bad arithmetic." She pulled him back close and twined her hands around his neck. "There won't be just two of us," she said slowly. "I'm expecting a baby."

  "You're what?" He gave her a look of disbelief. "But I -but we——-"

  "A very fertile couple," she said, and giggled unexpectedly.

  The sound acted as a catalyst, dissolving the tension and guilt that had built up between them, so that now as he drew her into his arms it was with a feeling of thankfulness for the knowledge of a secure future. "Dearest heart," he said thickly. "I love you so much."

  Jane slept later than usual the next morning and awoke to find that Nicholas had already left for the office. But on the breakfast tray which the maid brought in for her there lay a single red rose and she picked it up and held it against her cheek. The memory of the night before was still warm within her, making her forget the lonely nights when she had cried herself to sleep. From now on there would be no more loneliness. It was all she could do not to rush out of bed and dance around the room. Nicholas loved her. He had said so and she believed him.

  Contentedly she lay back against the pillows, savouring the pleasure of telling Aunt Agatha what had happened. But hard on this thought came memory of Carole, dampening her newfound joy. The difficulties were over for herself, but Nicholas was still faced with the unpleasant task of telling Carole he no longer loved her. Yet surely the girl must have realised it for herself? Must have known his infatuation for her was at an end ?

  Unexpectedly a vision of Carole in Nicholas's arms came into her mind and with an effort she pushed it away; no bitter memories should be allowed to mar her future. But it was not easy to forget Carole, and knowing that the longer she lay in bed, the more full of self-pity she would get, Jane swung her feet to the ground and stood up. As she did so, the telephone rang. It was Nicholas calling to wish her good morning and to say he loved her.

  "Will you have lunch with me?" he asked.

  "I can't," she said regretfully. "There's a charity meeting at the Duchess of Banster's; I'll be there the whole afternoon."

  "I'll see you tonight, then."

  "Until tonight," she whispered, and put down the receiver.

  But Nicholas still kept the telephone in his own hand, knowing he should ring Carole, yet wishing there was some way he could avoid it. But he would not feel completely free until he had spoken to her, and quickly he dialled her number, sweat marking his brow as her husky voice came across the line. "It's Nicholas," he said. "Are you free this afternoon?"

  Sensing the urgency in his tone, she did not follow her usual ploy of pretending she had another engagement. "Of course, Nicky. Will you come to the flat?"

  "No. I want to talk to you privately." He hesitated, trying to think of a place where they could go. Suddenly he remembered that Jane would be out that afternoon; perhaps being on his own territory would give him more courage. "Can you come to Orme Square ? " he asked.

  "Of course." There was surprise in Carole's voice. "Am I seeing you for lunch first?"

  "I'm afraid I can't. I've got a meeting. But I'll be with you at three-thirty."

  Carole reached Orme Square before Nicholas and waited for him in the library. It was the first time she had seen the house since it had been redecorated and she glanced around appraisingly. Jane had done a good job. She would at least be saved the bother of having to do it herself. Moving over to the Adam fireplace, she studied her reflection in the mirror, pleased with the dove-grey silk dress that set off her vivid loveliness and made her look like a Quaker girl. Only her slanting green eyes belied the simplicity of her appearance, making her look dangerous as well as disarming, and it was this danger that was apparent to Nicholas as he entered the room and saw her.

  Little pictures flashed across his mind like lantern slides, each one showing a facet of Carole's character: petulant when he had not brought her a present every time they met; angry when he had not opened accounts for her at every store in London; passionately demonstrative when she caught another woman looking at him and wilfully tantalizing when she felt his ardour cooling. But now there was nothing she could do to rekindle the flame, and knowing it gave him strength.

  "Nicky darling," Carole said as she saw his reflection in the mirror. "I didn't hear you come in."

  He gave her a brief smile and avoided her eyes. "I've got to talk to you."

  "So you said when you rang up." She composed herself on the settee and folded her hands on her lap like a little girl. "Well, darling?"

  Looking at her, he knew instinctively that she had guessed what he was going to say an
d would make it as difficult for him as possible. He straightened his shoulders. Well, he had not expected it to be easy - did not deserve it either.

  "I think you know what I want to say, Carole. You're too clever - too sensitive not to have known it already. Perhaps it mightn't have happened if I had been able to marry you when I wanted to, but trying to live a double life, trying to avoid gossip and yet wanting to see you at the same time——-It didn't work out the way I thought it would."

  He glanced at her and she met his gaze with wide, innocent eyes. He bit his lip and dug his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers. "It's over, Carole," he said abruptly, "We've had a lot of fun and a lot of laughs together, but I -but I realise now that it wasn't love."

  At last the words were out and he gave a sigh of relief. But Carole still remained silent, and afraid that she would start to cry, he said in a more gentle tone: "Believe me, my dear, I'd have given anything not to have said all this, but it wouldn't have been fair to you. I love Jane."

  "Last week you loved me," her voice was expressionless’ "How do you know that next week you won't love me again?"

  He was at a loss how to answer, but she was obviously expecting one. "I can't tell you how I know," he said at last, "but believe me I do. Perhaps what I felt for you wasn't love. You're beautiful enough to turn any man's head, but…"

  "But it was just infatuation." Her voice was mocking now. "How do you know that what you feel for Jane isn't infatuation too? My God, Nicky, how stupid you are! She was determined to catch you and she has."

  "Don't." It was such a sharp command that it startled her into silence and he took advantage of it. "You won't help by venting your anger on Jane. I can't give you answers to the questions you've asked and I don't intend to try. I've been a fool. Not only because I've hurt myself but because I've also hurt you. If there's anything I can do to help you, I-"

  "Help me?" she burst out. "Do you think I want any help from you? I love you, Nicholas! I love you and I'm going to marry you the moment you're free."

  "No," he said, his voice thin with the effort not to shout. "It's over, Carole. Don't make it any harder for yourself or for me. I don't love you and I don't want to marry you."

  She looked down at her hands, her hair falling in a golden web around her face, making it impossible for him to see her expression. But her small white hands were moving convulsively one against the other and he waited, tense and anxious, wondering what she might do.

  The moments ticked away and at last she lifted her head, her eyes glittering with tears but her expression more gentle than he had ever seen it before. "Poor Nicky, how difficult it must have been for you to tell me all this. But at least it's better you found out - we both found out - before it was too late." She stood up and smoothed down her skirts. "It will be funny trying to think of a future without you. I built everything around you Nicholas. Everything."

  "My dear." He was moved with pity. "If there's anything you need-"

  "No," she said. "If you say that again you'll make me cross. You were the only thing I needed, and now I can't have you." Her voice broke on a sob and she put her hand on his arm. "I suppose I won't be seeing you after today. Somehow I can't believe it."

  "It wouldn't be fair to you if we met. You're young and beautiful and -"

  "Don't say I'll fall in love again. That would be more than I could bear."

  "Dear Carole." Relief that she had taken her dismissal so well made him feel unexpectedly tender towards her and he lifted up her hand and placed it against his lips.

  At his touch, she rested against him, her body trembling. "Do you think you could kiss me good-bye," she whispered, "just for old times' sake ? "

  Put like that it seemed churlish to refuse and he bent and kissed her forehead.

  "Not like that," she said, and before he knew what was happening, her arms came round his neck and she pulled his head down so that his mouth touched hers.

  He clasped her shoulders in an effort to pull away, but she dung to him tightly and, short of using brute force, he was powerless to move.

  "Carole," he gasped. "Carole!"

  In front of him the. door opened and Jane came in, the colour draining from her face as she saw Carole wrapped in his arms.

  Knowing what Jane was thinking, Nicholas no longer cared if he hurt Carole. Roughly he unclasped her hands from behind his neck and pushed her away from him.

  "Don't let me interrupt you," Jane said.

  "You weren't! It wasn't what you think."

  But Jane was no longer listening, for as he made a move towards her she dropped her handbag and ran across the hall to the front door.

  "Jane!" he cried. "Jane, you've got to listen to me." As she fumbled with the handle he reached her side and caught her arm. "For heaven's sake, Jane, listen to me."

  "No! Leave me be." With unexpected strength, she wrenched herself away and pulling open the door, raced down the steps to the street, intent only on hiding herself in the sanctuary of the park opposite - hiding herself from Nicholas, from everybody.

  Looking neither to left nor right she ran across the road, unaware of the car bearing down on her. As she saw it she tried to draw back, but even as she did so the bumper caught against her side and sent her flying against the kerb. Heavily she fell, her cry of fear ending in one of agonising pain before she lapsed into unconsciousness.

  The next half an hour was a nightmare that Nicholas knew he would remember for the rest of his life. Carrying Jane unconscious back into the house he shouted for Devons to call the doctor, and waited by Jane's side for what seemed an eternity before the man eventually arrived. When he did, his examination was brief, and wasting no time to explain anything to Nicholas, be telephoned for an ambulance.

  It seemed an eternity before it arrived, although it was barely moments, and Nicholas watched, still numb with shock, as Jane, white and unconscious, was earned out on a stretcher.

  "I'll follow in my car," he said to the doctor.

  "There's no rush. We'll be taking your wife straight up to the operating theatre." Seeing the stricken look on Nicholas's face the doctor patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hamilton, but there's no hope of saving the baby."

  "But Jane ? Will she be all right ?"

  "I can promise you that," the doctor replied, and hurried down the steps to get into the ambulance before it drove away.

  Not until the sound of the rough engine had disappeared completely did Carole speak, her voice tight with anger. "Would I be right in assuming that Jane's expecting a baby?"

  "Yes."

  "Whose?"

  Nicholas looked at her blankly. "What do you mean?"

  "Whose baby ? Yours or John's ?"

  "Mine," His voice was cold. "I would prefer to forget the last part of your question."

  "I'm sure you would."

  The words were mocking and he reacted to them. "Don't waste your breath in implying anything about Jane," he said. "Nothing you say will make me stop loving her, but it could make me hate you."

  The very quietness of his voice gave his words force, and though tempted to goad him further, she knew that what he said was true. "You might have told me before," she said softly. "If Jane was pregnant, then you must have——-"

  "It happened before she went to Para," he interrupted "In fact, that's why she west. Learning about the baby was a shock to both of us."

  "But I suppose it made you realise you loved her?"

  He rubbed his hand across his face in a gesture of pain. "I knew before," he confessed, and abruptly turned away. "Do you think you could go, Carole? I'd like to be alone."

  "Very well. But remember, Nicky, I'll always be ready to take you back."

  He did not answer, and only as the door dosed behind her did he let his shoulders slump as he leaned against the desk, his head bowed in his hands.

  What bitter fate had brought Jane back at the exact moment that Carole was kissing him good-bye? Briefly he wondered whether Carole had heard Jane
come in and had kissed him deliberately, but since he would never know the answer he pushed it from his mind. All he must think about now was Jane, who meant more to him than life itself.

  CHAPTER X

  Jane lay in her room in the clinic, hearing the West End traffic rumbling four storeys below. Although the day outside was dull and grey, the room itself was a mass of colour with baskets of flowers, exotic fruits and a mass of dark red roses which came - fresh each morning - from Nicholas. Nicholas! Even the sound of his name was more than she could bear. What a blind fool she had been to believe he loved her. Remembering all he had said - the hopes he had raised for their future together - it was unbelievable to think that barely twelve hours later she had come in and found Carole in his arms.

  Yet what had been his reason for pretending to love her? No matter how many times she asked herself the question she could not find an answer, and although one part of her longed to ask Nicholas himself, she could not bear the thought of seeing him. Had he decided that since they could not obtain an annulment he would make the best of the three years they would be forced to stay together? But even this did not ring true, for on her return from Paris he had been talking of going to live abroad with Carole.

  No, Jane decided, there must be some other reason why he had decided to tell her he loved her. Again she was back to the same question, but again she could find no answer.

  "Let things ride for the moment," her parents had advised when they had come to see her and she had stumblingly told them of the real reason Nicholas had married her. "Wait until you're well again and can talk things over with him."

  "I have nothing to say to him." Her voice had been resolute. "I never want to see him again."