The Unexpected Pregnancy

by Catherine George

  ‘Ready?’ he said, and took her in his arms, but she stood tense in his embrace.

  ‘Ridiculous, I know,’ she said, ‘but I’m nervous. I keep telling myself it’s just Tim.’

  James shook her gently. ‘Nothing could ever change his feelings towards you. I’m the one who should be worrying.’

  ‘Tim idolises you—’

  ‘Probably not any more, now he’s discovered my feet of clay. Let’s get it over with.’

  On the way down the winding stair Harriet tried in vain to think up something to say to Tim, but when James opened the door to the living room her mind went blank. Tim had company. He faced them proudly, his possessive arm round a strikingly beautiful woman with a mass of black curling hair, her dark eyes fixed on James in appeal.

  ‘Francesca?’ he said in astonishment.

  ‘Come stai, James?’ said the woman, because woman she was, Harriet saw with misgiving.

  ‘And this, darling, is Harriet,’ said Tim. ‘Harry, I want you to meet my fiancée, Francesca Rossi.’

  The silence that followed this announcement was deafening.

  ‘Fiancée?’ drawled James at last. ‘Is this true, Francesca?’

  The look on his face filled Harriet with foreboding. Tim had left certain important details out regarding his Francesca—not only her age, but the fact that James obviously knew her. And possibly in the biblical sense as well as the social one, thought Harriet darkly, newly sensitive to such things after the afternoon she’d just spent.

  ‘Yes, James, it is true,’ said Francesca, smiling bravely. ‘Will you not give us your blessing?’

  From the closed, hard look on James’ face the possibility of this seemed remote. ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘Last week,’ said Tim defiantly.

  James turned on Harriet, eyes blazing. ‘Did you know about this?’

  ‘No, she didn’t,’ said Tim at once.

  ‘Did you, Harriet?’ repeated James, ignoring him.

  ‘I knew about Francesca,’ she admitted reluctantly, ‘but not about the engagement.’

  The woman smiled nervously. ‘Do not discuss me as though I was not here, James. Tim and I have known each other for many years. You know that. You introduced us,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I remember. Tim was just a kid at the time. And you were a married woman,’ he added deliberately.

  Francesca gave him an imploring look. ‘But you know that Carlo is dead, James. I am vedova now.’

  ‘Not a widow for much longer, darling,’ said Tim, gazing down at her possessively. ‘You’ll soon be my wife.’

  ‘Yes, tesoro,’ she said, patting his cheek with a hand adorned with a large emerald ring.

  ‘By the way, I’ve persuaded Jeremy to exhibit some of Francesca’s paintings,’ Tim told the others triumphantly.

  Harriet held her breath as the two men stared at each other with animosity new in their relationship. Tim’s eyes were hard and defiant as he faced his brother, with no attention to spare, noted Harriet with sudden heat, for the friend who’d gone to such lengths to keep his love affair secret. James, on the other hand, looked like a volcano about to erupt, which made her decide on escape as the most sensible move.

  ‘I’d love to see your work sometime, Francesca,’ Harriet said, smiling brightly, ‘but forgive me if I rush off right now. I really must do something about dinner.’

  Harriet beat a hasty retreat to the peace of the kitchen, enveloped herself in Anna’s apron, opened two bottles of red wine and set to work. She looked up with a scowl when Tim came to join her.

  ‘You’re angry with me, I suppose,’ he said morosely.

  ‘Is it any wonder?’ she retorted. ‘You might have told me the truth about Francesca.’ She filled a large pan with water, put it to heat then turned on him. ‘You not only misled me about her age, you forgot to mention that Francesca and your brother knew each other.’

  He shrugged, unrepentant. ‘That was the reason for the secrecy. I wouldn’t have brought her tonight if I’d known James was here. My plan was to marry her first and tell him afterwards when it was too late for him to do anything about it. Why didn’t you warn me on the phone?’

  ‘James wanted to talk to you. Besides, you didn’t say a word about bringing Francesca.’

  ‘It was supposed to be a surprise for you.’

  ‘It was certainly that,’ said Harriet dryly. ‘It was to James, too.’

  Tim’s mouth twisted. ‘An unpleasant one at that. I knew he’d disapprove.’

  ‘I can see his point,’ said Harriet, lighting the gas under Anna’s sauce. ‘Marrying a woman so much older than you was hardly likely to meet with his approval.’

  Tim gave her a suspicious look. ‘Did you know Jed was coming here?’

  ‘Of course I didn’t,’ she said scornfully. ‘It was a shock when he turned up out of the blue, believe me.’

  He gave her a significant look. ‘Nothing like the shock I got when I found him in bed with you, my girl.’

  Harriet reddened, but returned to the attack. ‘He obviously doesn’t like this at all, Tim. I just hope Francesca doesn’t cause a permanent rift between you.’

  Tim took a cloth from a drawer and covered the table, his face set in lines new to Harriet. ‘You mean he might stop my allowance.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘What allowance?’

  ‘How do you think I pay for my share of the house in Chelsea? My salary isn’t exactly astronomical.’

  ‘It seems there are a lot of things I don’t know.’

  ‘No need to look down your nose.’ Tim gave her a look that brought colour rushing to her face again. ‘I found you naked in my brother’s arms, remember. You’re in no position to disapprove. Neither is he. What did Jed think he was playing at? As far as he knew, you were my property.’

  ‘I’m nobody’s property!’ Her chin lifted. ‘I told James the truth today.’

  ‘So he promptly rushes you off to bed? I thought you two disliked each other. God knows you’ve always behaved as if you did!’

  ‘When I was in Upcote I discovered a few things which changed my mind,’ said Harriet. ‘He was very kind to my grandmother, for one thing, and to the young couple I told you about. He was kind to me, too.’ And unknown to Tim, his brother was the first man in her life to fill her with lust at the mere touch of his hand.

  ‘A damn sight more than kind if he got you into bed with him!’ Tim looked suddenly embarrassed. ‘As far as I know, you don’t normally go in for that kind of thing, do you, Harry?’

  ‘Not lately! How could I when I was supposed to be marrying you sometime soon? At least my social life should improve again now the truth’s out about you and Francesca.’ She paused, eyeing him unhappily as she steeled herself to speak her mind. ‘Look, are you really sure this will work out, Tim? Francesca’s beautiful, and I know you have the art side of things in common, but she’s years older than you. Lord knows I feel like your mother sometimes and I’m only twenty-three.’

  For the first time in their relationship Tim gave her a look so coldly hostile her heart contracted. ‘Age difference didn’t keep you out of my brother’s bed, did it? And in case you’re worried, my relationship with Francesca has nothing to do with Oedipus,’ he added, in a tone she’d never heard from him before. ‘Not that it’s any business of yours, but after her husband died we became lovers in the full, normal sense of the word. If you don’t approve, tough. After all,’ he added, twisting the knife deeper, ‘it’s my brother’s approval I need, not yours.’

  Harriet stared at him, stricken, then turned away to take pasta from a cupboard. She swallowed hard, keeping her back to Tim while she poured the pasta into boiling water. She added salt and olive oil, took a look at her watch, and turned to face Tim with her feelings under control. ‘Dinner will be ready in ten minutes…’

  But Tim had already gone, and Harriet was left gazing, devastated, at the door slammed shut behind him.

  Dinner parties had never featu
red much in Harriet’s life, and she would have given much not to be part of this one. There was no dining room at La Fattoria, but the kitchen was large enough for a table and six chairs under the window looking out on the courtyard. Gleaming crystal and silverware, and candles in white pottery holders on a red cloth, gave an air of festivity very much at odds with Harriet’s frame of mind. When the kitchen door opened she pinned on a smile that died abruptly when James came in with a face like thunder.

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me Tim was involved with Francesca Rossi?’ he demanded.

  ‘Oh, so I’m to blame again!’ said Harriet furiously. ‘Tim made me promise not to tell you, of course. And now I’ve met Francesca I can see why. He deliberately gave me the impression that she was too young to marry, not too old. You were her lover at one time, too, I assume?’ she added, carrying the war into the enemy’s camp.

  James glared at her in distaste. ‘Certainly not. I met her when I bought La Fattoria from her husband. Carlo Rossi was a wealthy man with influential connections in this part of the world. He was deeply interested in my plans for the restoration here, and put me in touch with the people I needed to get things done.’

  ‘So you know Francesca well, then?’ she said, deflated.

  ‘Not as well as I knew Carlo. He was a cultured, erudite man and I was lucky enough to enjoy Rossi hospitality on several occasions.’ His eyes glittered coldly. ‘Even if I had been attracted to Francesca she was married to a man I liked and respected, therefore doubly off limits as far as I was concerned. Tim obviously doesn’t suffer from the same scruples. She was still very much married when I introduced her to him in Florence five years ago.’

  Harriet sighed. ‘I remember. He came back from Italy with stars in his eyes, saying he’d fallen madly in love.’

  ‘He was a teenager with rampant hormones. It was lust, not love.’

  Harriet shrugged. ‘Whatever they are, his feelings haven’t diminished in any way. And Lord knows he’s seen enough of Francesca over the years to know his own mind.’

  James’ eyes narrowed. ‘And how, exactly, has he managed that?’

  ‘She joins him on the trips he takes for Jeremy Blyth, including Paris recently. And when he’s supposed to be here on holiday he spends most of the time in Florence with Francesca. He asked me to come this time just so I could meet her.’ Harriet eyed him unhappily. ‘He really does love her, James.’

  His mouth twisted. ‘If it’s lasted this long I suppose he does. Though God knows what Francesca thinks she’s playing at.’

  ‘Maybe she feels the same about him.’

  ‘I doubt that, but forget Francesca for a minute,’ he commanded. ‘Let’s talk about your role in all this. I suppose you and Tim thought it was utterly hilarious to con me with your cute little double act. You most of all, Harriet, with your talk about waiting to marry before living together!’

  Harriet’s chin lifted. ‘I was actually quoting Tim, but in some ways I have similar views.’

  ‘Really?’ He smiled sardonically. ‘If so I doubt you’ll find another man to share them.’

  Feeling thoroughly fed up with the Devereux brothers by this time, she shrugged indifferently. ‘Then I’ll live alone for the rest of my life. A prospect,’ she added with sudden passion, ‘which strongly appeals to me right now. Will you call the others, please?’

  The sauce was deliciously piquant, the pasta perfectly al dente and the wine mellow, but a meal with two of the diners trying desperately to keep the conversational ball in the air, and the other pair barely civil to each other, made for a trying evening. Harriet was desperate to escape by the time she’d served Anna’s luscious berry pudding. The two glasses of Barolo downed like medicine had done nothing to make the evening more bearable. Instead the wine gave Harriet a headache which grew worse when Tim brought up the subject of sleeping arrangements.

  ‘Francesca will share with me, of course, so you two can keep to your bed in the tower room. James, I moved your things back out of my room,’ he told his brother defiantly. ‘Francesca was in such a state of nerves when I told her you’d turned up, I didn’t tell her I found you in bed with Harriet.’

  Francesca looked from Harriet to James in astonishment. ‘You are lovers? But Tim says you don’t like each other.’

  Harriet smiled sweetly. ‘Ah, but it’s unnecessary to like a man to fancy some sex with him, Francesca.’ She put the torte on the table, enjoying the various reactions on the three faces. ‘If you want coffee with this, please make some, but forgive me if I say goodnight and leave the rest of you to clear away. Anna made up the bed in the other guest room for you, James,’ she added, and walked out with her head in the air.

  Harriet’s fleeting triumph had given way to deep depression by the time she reached the tower room. She could have wept as she leaned at the open window to breathe in the cool night air. The holiday she’d been looking forward to for so long was utterly ruined. Even if James caught the next available flight back to England, as she fully expected, she hated the very thought of staying on here with the other two.

  The night was no more restful than she’d expected it to be. Harriet read determinedly until her eyes grew hot and itchy, but sleep stayed out of reach. She felt utterly miserable as she watched a beam of moonlight creep slowly over the floor. For months she’d played along with the stupid deception, just to keep James in the dark about the real love of Tim’s life. Yet now, for the first time in all the years she’d known him, Tim had turned on her in fury, just for daring to voice an opinion about his relationship. She frowned suddenly. Francesca had been wearing a very impressive ring. If Tim’s finances had to be augmented by James, where had the money come from for a rock like that?

  But it was nothing to do with her any more, James Devereux included. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. After the bliss of his lovemaking he’d cut her to pieces with his furious accusations. As though she were to blame, not Tim. But no wonder he was angry. Until recently Francesca Rossi had been the wife of a man James deeply respected and looked on as a friend. This was the pill James found too bitter to swallow, not her age. What a gullible fool I’ve been, thought Harriet wearily. But good luck to Francesca. She had a young, adoring lover who not only brought romance and travel into her life, but had even arranged a London exhibition of her paintings. What more could a woman ask?

  Next morning Anna took over the task of providing breakfast for all the guests. Harriet thanked her gratefully and took herself off to the pool before the others came down, but to her annoyance found James there before her.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said formally.

  Harriet ignored him, took off her shirt and shorts, applied sunblock and, with sunglasses firmly in place, stretched out to enjoy the early morning sun.

  ‘I’ve managed to get a cancellation on a flight out of Pisa today,’ he informed her.

  ‘Splendid.’

  ‘You’re glad to see me go?’

  ‘Euphoric.’

  ‘When do you fly back?’

  ‘Sunday. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here.’ She smiled sardonically. ‘It’s been such a memorable holiday.’

  He shot a morose look at her. ‘What the hell am I going to do, Harriet? I can see where Francesca’s coming from. She was married to a man old enough to be her father, so of course she likes having a young stud like Tim lusting after her. But that’s the problem where he’s concerned. He’s not thinking with his brain.’

  Harriet shrugged. ‘What you do about it is entirely up to you. I’m no longer involved.’

  He stared incredulously. ‘You can’t mean that. You’re too close to Tim to wash your hands of him entirely.’

  ‘Here’s a suggestion.’ She took off her sunglasses and turned cold eyes on him. ‘Tim is pretty sure you’ll cut off his allowance. Francesca might change her mind if you do.’

  James shook his head. ‘Carlo Rossi was seriously wealthy and she inherited everything. Apparently her work sells
well, too, so as far as Tim’s concerned money’s not her object.’

  ‘Why, exactly, are you so dead against the marriage?’ she asked curiously. ‘Is it just the age difference or are there a lot more things I don’t know?’

  He was silent for a moment, his face set. ‘I was married to someone older than me,’ he said eventually. ‘One of the reasons for the breakdown was Madeleine’s refusal to have children. The age gap between Francesca and Tim is a hell of a sight bigger than it was in my marriage, so she probably won’t want children, either, which Tim is bound to regret one day.’

  ‘I’m a little short on concern for Tim right now,’ Harriet said flatly. ‘I uttered one little word of caution last night and ten years of friendship went straight down the drain.’ She gave James a resentful glare. ‘You were quick to put the knife in, too. Frankly, I’ve had it up to here with both of you. As far as the Devereux brothers are concerned I don’t give a damn any more.’

  ‘Where I’m concerned, Harriet, I can well believe it, but not with Tim, surely. You’ve always been so close. Which brings me to one of the many things that kept me awake last night,’ he added, his eyes locking on hers. ‘Tell me the truth, Harriet. Was it really just friendship between you and Tim?’

  ‘Yes, it was,’ she said stonily. ‘So now you can devote all your energies to the problem of Tim and Francesca and forget about me.’

  James gave her a long, hard look, as though trying to gauge what was going on in her brain. ‘Is that a roundabout way of saying you want nothing more to do with me?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I see.’ He got to his feet. ‘It’s a longish drive. I’d better get started. Are you all right?’ he added, eyeing her closely. ‘You ate very little last night.’

  ‘How could I in that atmosphere?’ She shuddered. ‘I’ll just wait to see what Tim’s plans are, then take off in the car out of the way. No way am I playing gooseberry to a pair of lovebirds.’