“You know why I'm here, Grandfather.”
Aaron cleared his throat. “Have you spoken with your parents lately?”
“I spoke with Mother before I left Boston.” Jonah didn't often speak with his parents in recent years, their relationship having suffered from the distance that plagued him as a child. The conversation went as usual, filled with generalities and a promise to visit when he could, which was usually about once a year out of duty and respect.
“Then she's had a chance to fill you in on her plans.”
“A reception for Maggie and I. She told me. But under the circumstances I don't think it's appropriate. And since Maggie stayed home, it's no longer possible.”
“Ridiculous. A marriage in the family is cause for celebration. And now that there is a baby on the way, we'll have to make doubly sure to celebrate.”
Jonah's eyebrows knitted. He leaned back in his seat, suddenly peeved. “Grandfather, let's not pretend this marriage is anything more than what it really is. You and I both know I didn't have a choice in the matter.”
Aaron sliced his hand through the cloud of cigar smoke. “Rubbish. I gave you a choice and you made it. If you hadn't wanted to marry Maggie you could easily have walked away from Wiltshire.”
“I couldn't do that anymore more than you could.”
Sitting ramrod straight, Aaron leveled Jonah with the intensity of his gaze. In his eyes, Jonah saw the same concern he'd seen as a child.
“If I'd have known things would turn out as they had, I would have. This house wouldn't have become so bloody important to you,” he said, his tone filled with regret. “It’s nothing but a chain weighing you down. Your father was never happy here. Unfortunately, he wasn't happy being a father, either.”
“Was having me his stipulation for inheriting Wiltshire?”
Aaron's eyes widened. Easing back in the wide leather chair, he sighed heavily before taking a long drag from the cigar. The tip's angry glow seemed to answer his question.
Jonah had always wondered, especially during the last few months since Aaron had informed him he'd need to marry before inheriting Wiltshire. His family was so remote, even during the brief time they'd all lived under the same roof. No one had uttered a word, but Jonah had wondered why two people would bring a child into the world only to make him feel so utterly alone. Now he had the answer.
“That was your great grandfather's doing, I'm afraid. My mistake was thinking that if I moved away from Wiltshire, your parents would finally take responsibility and settle down to some sort of family existence. Unfortunately, that plan backfired. Your father had already inherited his money, but he refused ownership of Wiltshire rather than be tied to it.”
And me, Jonah thought, a bitter slice of pain he hadn't felt in a long time stabbing him.
“Your parents are much too selfish. I'll always regret there aren't a whole lot of warm childhood memories for you here.”
Jonah gritted his teeth, trying to strike the painful images that crept into his mind. The memories Aaron spoke of were light-years away. He averted his eyes, staring instead at the priceless antiques that were bought by members of his family he barely knew long before he was born.
Jonah swallowed a mammoth lump of emotion. “That's all in the past.”
A slow grin creased the old man's mouth, and he nodded. “That's what I keep telling myself. But for some strange reason you still want to keep this stuffy old castle.”
“Despite what happened, it belongs to the family. This home will one day belong to my children. I can't just let that go.”
“Wiltshire hasn't been a home to anyone in a long time. And keeping it isn't going to change anything that happened. You're married now, and have a family of your own back in America. Does Maggie want to live here?”
Jonah shook his head. “Her mother is in Boston. She doesn't want to leave her.”
“I don't blame her. Life can be awfully cold without family around.”
His eyes locked with the weary eyes of his grandfather. What passed between them were unspoken words of regret, and Jonah was painfully aware they were no longer talking about Maggie.
Abruptly, Aaron drew in a deep breath. “I'm a man of my word. Wiltshire is yours to do with what you please. I've had my attorney file all the necessary papers to immediately transfer ownership. I see no reason to wait the full year.”
“Thank you, Grandfather.”
“I want you to know one thing, and you're free to do what you want with this bit of information. I'd fully intended to give Wiltshire to you whether or not you'd married Maggie.”
Jonah stared at his grandfather in disbelief. “What?”
“I release you from any conditions I placed on you regarding your marriage. For the record, I have to say how truly pleased I am Maggie is in your life now. If she makes you half as happy as Mary says she does, filling your house in Boston with the life that was never here, I don't regret any trouble my little plan caused you initially.”
Jonah leaned forward in his chair with his chin resting on his tented fingers, unable to meet his grandfather in the eyes. He'd never snapped at his grandfather, had never uttered one word of disrespect in all his thirty-three years. But the anger building in him, a frustration born not only of the worry over Wiltshire, but his unending worry over Maggie, threatened to spill over the edges of his sanity.
He wrenched himself out of the chair, fists shoved deep in the pockets of his charcoal trousers, and circled the deep pile area rug in the center of the room.
He never had to marry Maggie. He never had to marry anyone!
“You orchestrated all this just to con me into marrying? How could you do this? And to what end?”
“I should think it's obvious. You may only be thirty-three, Jonah. But you’ve been alone too long.”
Forcing a deep gulp of oxygen into his lungs to steady himself, Jonah's mind reeled in a furious state. He never had to marry Maggie. And now his grandfather was telling him that he didn't need to stay married to her, either.
Aaron lifted to his feet. “Like I said, do with the information what you please. It's your choice. You have a castle and you have a beautiful wife. I just hope through your anger you're smart enough to realize which one is the real prize.”
* * *
Maggie tiptoed across the wide hallway and eased Jonah's bedroom door open. She felt like a cat burglar prowling in his room...for what? She wanted something. It nagged at her all night, but she couldn't put her finger on just what that was.
He'd called tonight. Jonah had called and her heart pumped furiously, hearing the deep timbre of his sexy voice in her ear, telling her he was coming home early. He was coming home. She'd actually felt herself get giddy and had to contain her excitement while she was on the phone to keep Jonah from suspecting.
She missed him, dammit. And being bedridden in this huge house without him only made it worse. It gave her much too much time to think about everything about Jonah. Every time she sat on the sofa in the library, she expected to see him walk through the door, his briefcase in his hand or a box of chocolates because he thought she might be having a craving.
Yeah, she missed him. In more ways than she dared to admit.
The staff had all gone home and Mary had long since gone to bed. Maggie knew she should, too, but she couldn't sleep, thinking of Jonah, and she was too uncomfortable in her nightgown to boot. It didn't fit right anymore. In fact, nothing in her wardrobe fit her that the baby had grown so big.
So what was she doing now, lurking around Jonah's bedroom in the dark searching for something? She knew in an instant she flicked on the bed lamp. She was looking for Jonah, some connection to him that she'd been missing since he'd flown to England. It had only been a few days, but it seemed like so much longer.
She glanced around his room. In all the months she'd lived at the mansion, she'd never once seen the inside of Jonah's bedroom. It was much different than she'd imagined it would be. His king-size bed was snug ag
ainst the wall by the door. A few pillows were piled up against the tall iron headboard, almost calling her to fall into them. There was a denim blue wing-back chair with matching sofa tucked into the corner by bookshelves on the far side of the room. The bedroom was more casual than the stiff front Jonah sometimes put out for the world to see. She guessed this room, more than all the others in the house, was more of Jonah than she'd ever seen.
Maggie pulled at the middle of her nightgown and groaned, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the dresser mirror. She had always known it was inevitable she'd become as big as a house, but how had she managed to get this big without noticing? Instinctively, she padded to Jonah's walk-in closet and swung open the door, snapping the light on. Inside it was huge, about the size of the baby nursery in her room. A sense of warmth cascaded over her, making her weak, as she sifted through the clothes on the rack. Jonah's clothes. It seemed so intimate to be in his room looking through his closet.
Intimate. And sneaky. She was his wife, and yet the most intimate part of him was foreign to her.
Footsteps in the hallway startled her, causing her to fall back against a row of business suits. It was probably Mary walking through the hall, she decided as she waited. Maggie's pulse pounded in her ear long after the sound of Mary's bedroom door closing had subsided, and it was quiet again.
She clutched her chest. She shouldn't be here. She had absolutely no right to be invading Jonah's private space like this. But she couldn't help it. So much of Jonah was locked away inside him. There was so much she wanted to know about the man she'd married.
Most married couples shared everything, including a bed. But she and Jonah were not married in the traditional sense that allowed them that intimacy. Jonah had married her simply to make sure his family home would not be sold to strangers. None of that had changed. No matter how much her crazy mind kept wandering to future days when she and her baby would be more to Jonah than just a business agreement. When she could share this room, Jonah's bed.
But that wasn't going to happen. And the sooner she rid her mind of that fantasy, the better off she'd be.
Jonah was coming home. The longing that knowledge evoked in her was colossal. If Maggie missed him this much now, how would she possibly be able to handle walking away from him when the year was over?
She didn't want to need him. But somehow, no matter how hard she tried to tell herself otherwise, deep down she knew she really did. And it scared her to death.
Maggie yanked one of Jonah's crisp white shirts from a hanger and lifted it to her face. The cotton was cool and soft against her cheek and the fabric smelled of fabric softener...and of Jonah. He'd be home tomorrow around noon, he had informed her on the phone. She couldn't wait.
She lifted her nightgown over her swollen belly and then over her head, tossing it to the carpeted floor in a heap. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she eased into Jonah's shirt and fastened the buttons. Swimming inside Jonah's shirt felt like a great big hug. It was exactly what she'd longed for. What she wouldn't do to really have his strong arms wrapped tightly around her now.
Tonight, just for tonight, she would stay in his room and allow herself to dream that she was living here in this home, in this room, as Jonah's wife out of love. Tomorrow, she'd wake early, make the bed, remove any evidence that she'd been here, and creep back to her own room unnoticed. Tomorrow she'd go back to being his wife out of convenience.
Fatigue had more of a hold on her than she'd realized when she pulled down the bedspread and crawled across the big mattress. As Maggie lay down on the cool sheets, the scent of Jonah filled her head. Tucking the blankets under her chin, she curled onto her side and fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
Due to sheer luck, Jonah managed to snag a seat on an earlier flight back to the States at the last minute. The plane made the trip from London to New York in what felt like record time. A quick jump on a shuttle flight back to Logan and he was home.
He should have just kept his plans as they were and gotten a decent night's rest. By the time he was due to arrive home, Maggie would be asleep anyway. But instead of listening to reason, he'd charged through Heathrow like a madman to make his flight before the last boarding call. He'd barely managed more than an hour or two of fitful rest on the plane and couldn't wait to fall into the comfort of his own bed.
By the time he finally climbed the stairs to his bedroom in the early morning hours, Jonah didn't care anymore. He was home and that was all that mattered.
He couldn't get the sweet sound of Maggie's voice on the phone earlier out of his head. She'd been tired, but the slight laughter in her voice as she spoke about her day stole his breath away. He could almost see her smiling as she spoke, pulling at a lock of hair and twirling it around her finger as gripped the phone.
Good Lord, he missed her. He didn't want to, but he did. And the fact that their marriage never had to be was burning a hole in his mind.
He stopped in front of her bedroom door with his hand on the doorknob and sighed heavily, not thinking about the sound it would make or if it would wake anyone in the house. It was nearly four-thirty in the morning. Maggie was sure to be sound asleep. What right did he have to wake her just because he couldn't wait to see her again?
She'd been overly tired lately, and the scare she'd had before he'd left for England still worried him immensely. She shouldn't have to push herself so strong. They may have married for practical means, but he was there for her if she needed to lean on him occasionally. She wouldn't let him take care of her even a little. He was more than willing to be there for her and would always be, long after this marriage was dissolved. He wanted to be there. The feeling was stronger than anything he'd ever known.
Forcing his hand from her doorknob, he dragged himself away and walked across the hall to his room. He had no right to wake Maggie for his own selfish reasons.
Leaning over the nightstand Jonah flicked on the light. A soft glow illuminated the room around him. It was like a mirage appeared before him just because he'd willed it so.
Maggie wasn't in her room sleeping soundly. She was here in his room, his bed, sleeping like an angel. He stretched across the width of the bed, unable to keep himself from stroking her freckled cheek with his fingers.
Now that she was here with him, he realized just how much he'd been missing her since he'd been gone. He had the overwhelming urge to curl up next to her, cradling her body against his, and lay awake just memorizing how it felt to hold her. But in doing so, he knew he'd wake her and the chance to have her in his arms without reservation or care would be gone.
He eased himself on the side of the bed and gazed at her for a long while, watching as her dreams took hold of her.
What the hell was he doing? There wasn't going to be a future with him and Maggie, no matter how much he loved her.
Loved her?
Yes, his feelings for Maggie were overwhelming at times, but just because he missed her beyond distraction didn't make him in love with her.
Dragging himself away from the bed, Jonah turned out the light, unbuttoned his shirt and strode to the bathroom, being careful not to make too much noise and rouse Maggie.
He'd sleep on the sofa tonight, he decided. He couldn't bring himself to leave her in here alone. And quite honestly, he didn't want to. He'd much prefer to curl up next to her and hold her. But the sofa would do.
In the morning they'd talk. He needed to tell her about his meeting with his grandfather. The baby would be coming long before the year was up. Maggie had a right to make the decision to stay the full year or leave once he'd fulfilled his part of their arrangement and claimed Maggie's baby as his own.
He quickly brushed his teeth, took care of business and flicked off the bathroom light. He eased across the thick pile carpet toward the closet and his foot kicked something soft on the floor. Reaching down he picked up what felt like a garment of some kind, but in the dark he couldn't figure out what it was.
He discarded i
t in the hamper and after rummaging in the dark for an extra blanket, he stepped into the room and abruptly stopped.
The moonlight stretching in from the window painting colorful fingers against the walls of the bedroom. Jonah's eyes quickly adjusted to the darkened room and zeroed in on Maggie. She was sitting up in bed now, fully awake and staring at him wide-eyed, much like she had the first day they'd met at the diner.
# # #
Chapter Twelve
“Jonah?” Maggie's voice was just a breath above a whisper, sheer music to his ears.
“Yes, Maggie, it's me.”
Her hands flew to her eyes and she rubbed them with the heels of her palms before looking up at him again. “For a minute I thought I was dreaming.”
Jonah couldn't help but smile, and wondered what kind of dreams she was having to make her look so peaceful and angelic when he'd first come into the room. Was she dreaming of him? Of the baby? Of the life she'd have once she and the baby had left him?
A fire began to brew deep in his gut. He wanted to think she'd been dreaming about him. Just as he'd spent all his time doing lately.
“I'm sorry I woke you,” he said, absorbing the space between the closet and the bed.
He was by her side in an instant, sitting beside her on the bed. He wasn't quite sure how he'd gotten from point A to B, but there he was, reaching out to her because he couldn't help himself. He needed to touch her. Now that she was awake, it was like an invitation. One he couldn't refuse.
“No, don't apologize. I...” She buried her face in her hands.
On impulse, he saddled up beside her in the middle of the big bed, gently pulling her hands away from her face.
“Maggie? What is it?”
She shook her head. “I shouldn't be here.”
The Knight and Maggie's Baby Page 14
