They were silent as they walked to the house, their heels crunching on the gravel path, the tiny stones damp, the early morning chorus of birds welcoming them.
Jacey closed the study door behind him with a click that made her whole body tense in alarm.
They faced each -other across the silence, their eyes locked together in a battle for supremacy.
'Well?' the question was clipped from his mouth.
Moistening her lips, Louisa forced control into her voice as she said, 'I need more time. I can't give you my answer yet.'
'You can,' he said coolly, his dark face unreadable, 'and you will.'
Louisa drew a deep breath. He had no right to force her into this position. She didn't want to marry this hostile man; she wanted to marry the Jacey she had met and fallen in love with so long ago.
'You can't force me,' she told him in a tense voice, raising her head with a mixture of self-defence and attack. No one had ever affected her like this before. No man, woman or child. Jacey had burst into her life and crashed through her defences leaving her indecisive, weak and confused. She had once been so strong. Now she felt like a fool, and she didn't like that feeling one little bit.
His mouth indented sardonically. 'Can't I?' he drawled.
Her face tightened angrily. 'I can't make a snap decision. There's too much to take into account for that.' It was the rest of her life that was being decided, and that meant a lot to her.
Jacey came closer and she found herself backing nervously. 'Your back is against the wall, Louisa,' he said tightly. 'You're marrying Radcliffe in three weeks. Do you think he'll thank you for jilting him at the altar? Wouldn't he prefer some advance warning?'
She swallowed, shutting her eyes to the words. She didn't want to hurt Peter—«she owed him more than that. But if she went ahead with the marriage, wouldn't she be hurting him more than ever? Hurting myself, too, she thought bitterly.
'Don't you think I know that?' she said in a low painful voice. 'Do you think I want to hurt him?'
Jacey gave a harsh crack of laughter. 'Why not?' he said bitingly. 'You hurt me.'
Her heart hurt, and she raised her head jerkily to look at him, feeling her pulses drum crazily at her throat and temples.
'I didn't mean to hurt you, Jacey,' she said softly, frowning.
His jaw clamped. 'Don't give it a thought,' he said tightly. 'It was too long ago.' He thrust his hands into the pockets of the superbly cut black trousers, and she watched him, biting her lip, wishing there was something she could say to eradicate everything that had happened in the past.
But it was hopeless. Rage had made her say things she had made herself believe were true. Circumstances, she thought with a bitter smile, circumstances made me react that way.
'Besides,' Jacey was watching her, seeing the gamut of emotions on her face, 'you won't be marrying Jacey. You'll be Mrs Jason Knight.'
She gave a hollow laugh. 'Where's the difference? You can change your name, change your surroundings—but you can never change who you are inside.' Her eyes held his intensely. 'No one can ever do that.'
His mouth crooked cynically. 'That's where you're wrong,' he said, his voice sardonic, laced with bitterness. 'Jacey was naive. He fell for a mercenary bitch.' He took a step towards her, his face hardening. 'That's what you are, my darling— a mercenary, greedy little bitch.'
Her lips were tight. 'How kind!' she snapped, eyes flashing.
He smiled, making her blood run cold. 'Don't mention it,' he drawled, and her fists clenched uselessly at her sides. 'So,' Jacey tilted his black head to one side, raising one dark brow in enquiry, 'what's it to be? My money? Or Radcliffe's?'
Her heart was thudding a deadly rhythm, her eyes pained. 'I think I preferred you as you were,' she said in a low voice.
His eyes blazed with an emotion which she found alarming. 'Too bad,' he snapped. 'You forced me back into this way of life, now you're going to have to live with it.'
Louisa stared at him for a long moment, her pulses throbbing with anger. 'That's where you're wrong,' she said angrily, 'because my answer is no.'
He stared at her, his body rigid. Louisa watched as rage fought emotion on his dark face, feelings she couldn't comprehend raging in his brilliant green eyes.
Then she moved. Jacey followed. They both ran for the door at the same time, and he reached her just as her hand touched the handle.
'Not so fast,' he muttered between his teeth. His fingers bit into her wrist. 'I want your reasons before you leave.'
She turned angry eyes on him, her face taut. 'Why the hell do you think?' she snapped.
He looked at her for a long intense moment. 'Love?' he clipped out eventually, the word forced between his white teeth.
More lies? Louisa asked herself bitterly, and was suddenly sick of the whole charade. Fight pain with pain and it doubles back on you, she realised wearily.
'No,' she said on a heavy sigh, raising her eyes to his, giving in at last to the need for him which had been fighting her common sense. 'No, I don't love him any more than I'd love a friend.'
He considered her in silence for a second. 'Then you'll marry me?' he asked tautly.
She nodded, bending her head in defeat. Fighting him was draining. There were two men in her life, and she knew damned well which one of them she loved. Jacey was hers; she had known it from the beginning and she knew it now. There was no point in any more lies.
'Good.' His voice was crisp, businesslike. 'Break it off with Radcliffe, wind up your flat and your job as quickly as possible.' His face was no longer scarred with emotion—it was the face of a hostile stranger who had won. 'We'll get married in three weeks.'
She raised her head, uneasily. What have I done? she thought intensely, and her pulses throbbed with a premonition of danger.
CHAPTER FOUR
Louisa could hear the air vibrating with the heavy bass thud of Pete's rock group. The dark brick alleyway that led to the rehearsal studios was damp and grey. Her footsteps rang out as she made her way to the door.
The noise grew louder. Guitars whined against heavy pounding bass rhythms, the harsh crash of drums and cymbals reaching her ears. She pushed open the second door and walked into the studio.
Pete looked up, his eyes brightening for a second. The rest of the band continued playing, greeting her with silent nods as they crashed and pounded out the last few bars of the song.
Pete stepped away from the mike, pulling his guitar over his head and resting it on a chair. He came towards her, his face serious. 'What happened last night? You didn't say goodbye.'
Steve, the noisy belligerent drummer, carried on drumming, making a terrible racket.
'Pack it in!' Pete bellowed, and Steve raised his scruffy head, grinning through weeks of unshaven beard, giving a last defiant roll on the drums before stopping. Pete turned back to Louisa, frowning. 'Why didn't you call me at work today? You must have known I was waiting to hear from you.'
She avoided his eyes, shrugging. 'I was too busy,' she said, and looked back at him. 'Listen, I have to talk to you. Is there anywhere we can go?' Her eyes darted around the hollow white studio, the smoky air, stray beer cans scattered around it.
Pete studied her for a long moment, then nodded. 'Okay,' he said slowly, and his eyes narrowed as though he suspected what was on her mind. 'Hold on a minute.'
Steve was restlessly tapping his fingers on the cymbals. 'How you doing, Louisa?' he called cheerfully. 'Like the party last night? It really wiped me out—all those nice people in that nice hice.' He shook his shaggy head and gave a roll on the drums. 'Wow!' he intoned in a mock swoon.
Pete came back with his jacket and gave him a speaking glance. 'Steve, if you don't cut that out I swear I'll brain you!' he told him, taking Louisa's arm and leading her to the door. They stepped outside into the cool clean night and Louisa bit her lip, wondering how to tell him. 'Well?' Pete asked as they stood in the alleyway facing each other. 'Is it about last night? The party?'
&nbs
p; She looked away from him anxiously. 'In a way,' she said, her voice husky. She sighed. 'It's difficult to know where to start.'
Pete raised one thin brow, his face serious. 'Try the beginning,' he suggested drily.
Louisa sighed again, then took a deep breath and haltingly began to tell him about her life before she met him. She told him everything. It was difficult at first, knowing how to phrase her meeting with Jacey, the arguments they had had. But although she stumbled once or twice, she told him everything that she could.
He deserves to know, she thought sadly. She watched his face, seeing it set without expression as he listened. When she had finished, she was silent, watching him.
'That's quite a story,' Pete said coolly, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looked back at her, his eyes masked. 'Sure you've told me everything?'
She nodded, her body still with anxiety as she studied him.
Pete nodded, considering this. He scuffed his worn trainers against the dark wall. 'And you've said you'll do it? Marry him?'
Louisa bit her lip, seeing the control he was exerting over himself. 'I've hurt him a great deal,' she said quietly, 'I have to make up for it.'
Pete gave a short laugh. 'Oh, poor old Jacey!' he said with bitter sarcasm. 'My heart bleeds for him!' He looked at her, his eyes no longer masked, bitter anger in their depths. 'I suppose I don't matter? I was just someone to pass the time with?'
Louisa winced. 'I'm sorry, Peter,' she said, her throat tight with guilt.
His eyes flared. 'So thanks, but no, thanks?' he said angrily. 'Is that it? Playing musical wedding rings, are we? And Jacey was the lucky winner?'
She went scarlet, then white, her eyes widening with a sense of helpless guilt. She had caused so much trouble, and she wished she could do or say something to make up for it.
She looked at him sadly. 'I'm sorry,' she repeated in a husky voice, 'I wish there was something I could do to help you understand.' She raked a hand through her hair. 'I've made such a mess of things!'
'Oh, please—spare me!' said Pete in a tight, bitter voice, his eyes flaring with anger. 'You really take the biscuit, you know that? How you have the nerve to come out with rubbish like that, I don't know. You've been playing some kind of bizarre game with both of us, haven't you? Ditch him, marry me—ditch me, marry him. What next, I wonder? Are you going to come up with some other lucky challenger?'
She winced, her face as white as chalk. 'It isn't like that!' she protested in an agonised whisper. 'I do care for you—I care very much. I just feel more for Jacey.' She bit her lip anxiously. 'It doesn't mean I didn't feel anything for you.'
'Where's my sick bag?' Pete asked bitingly. 'I think I'm going to throw up.' He considered her for a moment in a tense silence, then he said in a low, angry voice, 'I think you must be some kind of sadist. But whatever you are, I don't want any part of you. Jacey can keep you, and good luck to the poor bastard!'
He turned to push blindly past her, and she stumbled, falling against the wall. Her hand went out quickly, catching hold of his sleeve and pulling him back, her face tight with anguish.
'Don't you think I've been hurt as much as anyone else?' she whispered, tears burning the back of her eyes.
He smiled tightly. 'Frankly, my dear,' he said with biting sarcasm as he quoted the book through his teeth, 'I don't give a damn.' He looked at her stricken face and his eyes were hard. 'In my opinion, you deserve everything you get!'
Louisa slumped against the wall, watching him go. She closed her eyes as tears threatened to fight their way through. He was right: she deserved everything she was getting. It had been her own pride which had forced her into Peter's arms, and now she was paying for it.
I should have listened to Scotty, she thought with a bitter smile of grudging respect. He knew what he was talking about. Storing up trouble for yourself, he had told her, and he had been right.
She straightened, her face strained and tense. She couldn't go home to her lonely, quiet flat just yet. She needed to talk to someone. Scotty, she thought, walking along the alleyway towards the bus station; Scotty will listen.
Her reflection wavered and doubled in the night-darkened window of the bus. Louisa felt a strange sense of isolation. The top deck was deserted, the only sound that of the engine chugging, the sides rattling. She stared into space, her eyes blank. Two girls clambered up the stairs, smoking cigarettes and giggling, although they looked far too young to be smoking. They eyed Louisa with angry defiance as she looked at the cigarettes in their hands, then clattered on high heels to the back of the bus, still giggling.
Louisa got off at the next stop.
'So you haven't been kidnapped?' Scotty exclaimed with relief as he opened the front door to see her standing there.
She smiled. 'Not quite,' she admitted, following him into the quiet, rather musty-smelling house, glad of its warmth and comfort as she sat in one of the gaily patterned chairs.
She told him everything that had happened; first with Jacey, then with Pete. Scotty listened broodingly, his old mouth clenched around his pipe, his grey brows drawn in a frown of concern.
As she spoke, thoughts whirled in her head, pushing through the confused mist that seemed to surround her mind. But nothing became clearer, although she began to feel more calm about it. Scotty's presence always calmed her. She was right to have come to him.
'Don't say I told you so!' she warned after she had finished.
'Me?' said Scotty, tapping his old brown pipe against the hearth. He smiled, 'Now where would be the point in that, lassie? You knew as well as I did that this would happen. No,' he sighed, shaking his grey head, 'I won't make you look back. You've got to look forward now, try to make him forgive you. It'll be hard, but if you can do it ‑' he paused, eyeing her, then smiled slowly, 'well, it'll be worth it.'
Louisa folded her hands in her lap and sighed. It would 'certainly be worth it, because she loved Jacey deeply. But would he ever forgive her? There was a violent darkness in him that frightened her, made her worried that perhaps forgiveness wasn't in his nature.
She looked up. 'So what now?' she asked wearily.
'Well,' Scotty stood up, his muscles groaning protestingly, and rested one withered elbow on the mantelpiece, 'you've said you'll marry him, and I take it you won't change your mind?' He glanced at her, straggly brows raised. At her agreement he continued, 'So you'll have to give up your life here, and do as he says.'
Louisa's eyes were grave as they met Scotty's wise watery blue gaze. Do as he says, she thought slowly. But just how far will he push me? She wondered. Until I crack? She shivered.
He'll come back with his teeth bared, Scotty had said. And he had.
Jacey rang her the next day. She was working in the bookshop, her mind distracted and confused. Handing in her notice officially to Scotty had made everything seem more real.
Cutting ties was always painful, but it brought everything home to her with a bang. She was really leaving. Everything she had built up for herself was gradually shattering around her ears.
'Telephone!' Scotty waved the receiver at her with a grim smile, and she took it, feeling her pulses race furiously, knowing too well who was on the line.
'You told him?' Jacey's voice was cool, impersonal.
She sighed. 'Yes, Jacey, I told him.'
There was a pause. 'You sound like death,' he commented flatly. 'What's wrong? Not sleeping properly?' There was a trace of mockery in his tone that angered her.
She felt her pale mouth compress. 'The last few days have been rather hectic,' she admitted, 'to say the least.'
'The very least,' Jacey agreed in a lazy drawl, and Louisa tensed with irritation. He was laughing at her. 'I'm going away for a few days. But 'don't let it worry you,' he laughed unpleasantly. 'I shan't miss the wedding.'
'I'm sure you won't,' she said tightly.
'You can count on me,' he returned, mocking laughter in his voice. 'I'll let you know when I get back.'
'How
thoughtful!' she said through pale, strained lips.
Laughter again. 'I try to please,' he agreed, then paused for a moment before 'saying coolly, 'Oh, and I shouldn't pay any visits to friend Radcliffe— you wouldn't like it 'if I found out you'd seen him.'
Her body tensed angrily. 'Resorting to threats, Jacey?' she asked in a soft, deliberately taunting voice.
'Who's Jacey?' he said tightly, and hung up.
Louisa looked at the buzzing receiver with bitter eyes for a long moment. Replacing it, she noticed her hand shake. He's going to destroy me, she thought angrily.
Later that day, she put Pete's ring into an envelope and posted it to him. He wouldn't accept it if she took it to him, she knew that. But she couldn't keep it. Especially after the way her engagement had been broken off. She hoped that one day he would be able to understand why it had happened at all. But she wasn't sure if he would. She sighed, wishing she could turn time back. Impossible, she realised grimly.
She saw very little of Jacey. The days passed slowly, but when she looked back, she couldn't understand where they had gone. She spent her time working during the day, and sitting at home alone in the evenings. Sometimes she went round to see Scotty, who she thought of now as her only friend in a nightmare world. But even he couldn't help her now. She was trapped of her own volition.
A week before the wedding, Jacey turned up on her doorstep. She had had a tiring day, shifting new deliveries of books in the shop, and hadn't bothered to change when she had arrived home.
The sharp peremptory ring at the door told her who it was. In her mind's eye, she could picture him jabbing the bell with one long finger. Going downstairs, she opened the 'door, feeling her heart pound faster.
'You look washed out,' Jacey drawled, his panther-green eyes travelling over her face, noting the pallor of her skin, the shadows beneath her eyes. 'Too much Scotch and late nights?'
She gave him a tight smile. 'Of course.'
One dark brow rose with sardonic amusement. 'Been living it up at nightclubs in my absence?' he asked lazily, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black trousers.
Fever Pitch Page 6
