They didn't speak on the way home, and Louisa glanced at his hard profile from time to time trying to decide whether he really was as calm as all that. The hospital must have told him where and how it happened.
When they pulled up outside the house, he helped her out of the car, her head on his warm shoulder, and led her inside the house.
'You'd better rest,' he said coolly, and she felt that prickle of unease again as she studied him sideways. She could feel the deep regular beat of his heart through the thin white shirt, could feel the warmth of his flesh against her cheek.
As he laid her on the bed she looked at him through her lashes. 'I hope I haven't been any trouble,' she said quietly, her gaze intent.
'No trouble,' he drawled. 'At least Radcliffe didn't get away with it. I suppose we ought to be grateful for small mercies.'
Louisa flushed hotly, drawing an unsteady breath. She had been right to think he wasn't calm. He was like a volcano, seething with unleashed fire.
'I didn't realise what he was planning to do,' she muttered unsteadily.
'Of course not,' he replied, lips tight. 'That's why you'd got so far up the motorway.'
'I couldn't stop him . . .' she began, but he broke in with a barbed smile.
'Sure. He's just too strong-minded for you, isn't he?'
She looked at him miserably, seeing the old hatred creeping back into his eyes. 'Jacey, please ‑'
'You little bitch!' he grated through his teeth. 'You were leaving me!'
Her breath caught at the burning intensity in his eyes. 'No,' she said, shaking her head, 'I tried to stop him ‑'
'After everything I said ... everything I did. My God!' His lips curled back in a snarl. 'You must have laughed yourself sick this morning!'
She flinched from the violent tone. 'I didn't...'
'Shut up!' snapped Jacey under his breath, anger leaping from his eyes. He was breathing hard now, staring down at her. 'Were you going for good? Or was it just another moonlight flit?'
'Don't be so blind!' she said angrily, sitting up. 'I love you!'
His mouth shook with rage. 'Don't ever say that to me again,' he said between his teeth, and she whitened, incredulous.
'It's true!'
He looked down at her with contempt for a long moment. 'I'd like to kill you,' he said hoarsely, and for one split second Louisa thought he might. The black rage in his eyes was unmistakable. But instead he thrust her away from him. 'But why should I moulder in prison for a little cheat like you?'
He slammed out of the room and Louisa watched him go with a sob, her eyes brimming with tears of anger and frustration. She felt an overwhelming need to hit back at the injustice of it. Why had Pete done such a thing to her? He must have realised how much damage it would do. Hadn't she told him how she felt about Jacey? She had been trying to work towards a good relationship with him, and now it lay shattered at her feet.
Just when she was on the threshold of success, Pete had ruined everything, wrecked it beyond repair with one stupid, impulsive act.
She sighed, her lips tight. He hadn't acted out of malice. He'd only wanted to help her, had been worried for her. How could she possibly lay the blame at his door? In the end, she was the one to blame for wrecking all of their lives.
But what on earth was she going to do now? Good question, she thought grimly.
CHAPTER NINE
Later that evening, Louisa heard voices from downstairs and recognised Rizzio and Elizabeth's penetrating tones as they spoke to Jacey in the hall. Their footsteps came up the stairs and advanced on her room, while Louisa waited quietly in bed until the door opened.
'Surprise!' called Rizzio, grinning as he popped his curly black head round the door.
Not quite, thought Louisa, but she smiled back all the same. They came inside, studying her closely, their eyes curious.
'Isn't she pale?' Rizzio said to Elizabeth as he looked at her. 'She looks like Nosferatu—one of the living dead!' He walked around the room like a zombie, arms stretched ahead of him, vacant expression on his face.
Louisa laughed, then clutched her head, groaning. 'Don't make me laugh, it hurts my head!'
Rizzio grinned, advancing on her, wailing hideously.
Elizabeth smacked his hand. 'Behave!' she warned, and turned to Louisa with a grimace. 'He's always like this post-Uncle Willy. It must be something contagious!'
Louisa smiled, leaning back against the pillows. She hadn't seen Jacey since he'd brought her home from the hospital. The silence had saddened her, but she knew there was little she could do about it.
'Why were you on the London road?' Elizabeth asked, sitting down on the bed, studying her with a frown. 'Was Jacey with you in the car or something?'
Louisa held her gaze directly. 'I was on my own,' she said, hoping the subject would be dropped.
'Ah-ha!' Rizzio tapped his cheek with one long finger. 'Methinks there's something funny going on. Why should you be on your own on the way to London? You weren't running off, were you?'
Louisa felt herself flush hotly, and looked away. 'I was' driving up there to visit a friend. I was coming back tomorrow,' she said, lying through her teeth on the spur of the moment. She hoped Jacey wouldn't tell them a different story.
Rizzio raised one dark brow. 'On your honeymoon?' he drawled.
Louisa fidgeted restlessly with the bedcovers. Luckily, at that moment the door opened, and Jacey came in with a tray of steaming hot coffee and four cups.
Louisa looked up. Their eyes met and she felt her mouth go dry.
'How do you feel, darling?' Jacey closed the door and came towards her with a tender smile.
She relaxed. At least he wouldn't let other people see the mess they had made of their marriage. 'Fine,' she said huskily.
He bent his head to kiss her. Louisa's hand curled over his brown throat, her pulses leaping, her mouth meeting his in a burning kiss. She drew a strained breath as he drew away, and stared into his eyes.
His gaze flickered over her body, seeing the way she strained towards him, her smooth breasts half exposed by the brief nightdress she wore. She felt his eyes burn into her flesh and shivered.
Elizabeth turned to Jacey as he set the tray down and poured coffee into the cups. 'What did the doctors say?'
Jacey handed her some coffee. 'It's nothing serious - just some cuts and bruises. I'll take her along for a check-up in a couple of weeks, see that everything's all right.'
Elizabeth nodded, and looked back at Louisa. She frowned, leaning over. 'That's a nasty cut,' she observed, scrutinising the wound on her head. 'Shouldn't you have something over that?'
Louisa shook her head. 'They said it would heal better uncovered.'
Unconsciously, she raised her fingers, running them gingerly along the jagged wound. It didn't feel as bad as she had thought it would. It was really a miracle that she had got off so easily. She could have been killed—they both could.
Rizzio and Elizabeth left after an hour, and Louisa sat in her room, listening to the sounds of their voices as they spoke to Jacey in the hall on the way out. She waited in a tense silence as she heard Jacey lock the doors, going from room to room. Then his footsteps came back upstairs, and advanced on her room. She listened and felt her whole body tense in alarm. Surely he wouldn't make love to her tonight?
The door opened, and his broad shoulders filled the doorway. Louisa's pulses drummed in her ears as their eyes met across the room.
'Goodnight,' Jacey said coldly, and she shivered at the icy expression in his eyes.
'Jacey . . .' she said huskily as he began to close the door, and he stopped, looking across at her, his eyes cold.
'Well?' he asked flatly.
She swallowed, her throat tight. 'What's happening to us?' she whispered sadly.
His mouth tightened into a hard line. 'Goodnight, Louisa,' he said, and closed the door with a firm, resounding click. She slumped back against the pillows, too hurt to even cry. Some things just went too deep for te
ars.
She felt much better when she woke up next morning. Her head no longer ached, but her body was slightly weak, although not enough to make her uncomfortable. She showered in the blue' bathroom and dressed in jeans and a white blouse before going downstairs.
Jacey . was in the living room when she got downstairs. He looked up at her in silence, his face grim, and said absolutely nothing—his eyes said it all.
Louisa read the icy hatred in his expression and felt her heart hurt. Stiffly, she went out of the room again, unable to speak. It was finally over. There was no turning back any more. She had lost.
The doorbell rang and she froze. The silence in the hall was deafening as she stood rooted to the spot, unable to answer it for fear of who it could be. Then the door of the living room opened as the bell rang again.
'I'll answer it,' Jacey said grimly, seeing her white face.
She saw every muscle in Jacey's body tense as he opened the door to see Pete standing there. There was a very long silence as the two men stared at each other, aggression pouring out of them.
'What the hell do you want?' Jacey asked icily.
Pete looked past him to Louisa, his face obstinate. 'I came to see how she was. I was worried. After the accident, I didn't know what to do.'
Jacey laughed harshly. 'A little late, don't you think? You almost killed her, you realise?'
Pete whitened, his hollow face draining of colour. He looked at Louisa. 'Are you all right?' he asked huskily. 'I rang the hospital, but you know what they're like—they just told me they'd sent you home.'
She nodded sadly, seeing the anxiety in his eyes. Poor Pete! He hadn't meant any of this to happen. How could she blame him for caring about what happened to her? That was his only crime, after all.
'All right,' Jacey said in a tight drawl, 'now you've seen her, you can get out.'
Pete looked at him sharply, then drew a deep breath. 'I know what you're thinking ‑' he began, but Jacey broke in with a cutting smile.
'Oh? A bloody mind-reader now, are you?'
Pete flushed, pushing his hands in his pockets. 'Louisa didn't want to come to London with me. I told her we were going for a drive and then just went on the motorway.'
'Really?' Jacey said through his teeth.
Pete looked at him angrily, his mouth tightening. But .he carried on regardless. 'That's how we crashed. She tried to grab the steering wheel and make me turn off the motorway, and a car smashed into us from behind.'
Jacey's face was murderous as he stared at him. 'You son of a bitch! You could have killed her!'
Pete glared at him. 'Don't you think I knew that? Don't you think I could…'
Jacey hit him. Louisa didn't see it coming. One moment they were standing snarling at each other, the next there was a sickening crack of bone as Jacey's fist shot out and slammed into Pete's jaw.
Louisa gasped, horrified, as Pete fell back against the porch door, clutching his chin and groaning. She ran to Jacey's side, not daring to comfort Pete because she knew that this was a test, a sort of milestone, and she knew that if she took Pete's side against Jacey, he would never ever forgive her.
Pete straightened, rubbing his jaw. He glared at Jacey, then looked at Louisa. 'You can't say I didn't try!' he said angrily, and ran a hand over his spiky hair. 'Goodbye, Louisa. I hope he's not as violent with you as he was with me!'
She watched Pete walk away down the path and felt very sad. She would have given anything at that moment to undo all the harm she had caused for all three of them. But what could she do?
Turning to look at Jacey, she felt her pulses leap with the crazy hope that Pete's words might have changed his mind, but studying his face, she saw no softening of his expression, no change in his eyes.
Jacey looked down at her. 'Satisfied?' he asked tightly, and walked away from her without another word.
She stared at his departing back in amazement, heard the click of the door as he went into the study and closed it behind him. Surely he didn't still think she'd been running off with Pete? Her fists clenched. It wasn't fair! What in God's name did she have to do to prove she loved him?
Enough was enough. Anger was boiling up inside her, suffocating her as she stood in the silent hall. How much more of herself did he expect her to throw in his path for him to walk over? There was only so much she could take—and she had taken it, right up to her back teeth.
She strode forward with a determination that surprised her. In all the time she had known Jacey, she had never felt so angry. How dared he push her into his shadow as though she was a piece of uninteresting silk?
Slamming the door back on its hinges, she stood in the doorway, mouth tight.
Jacey looked round, startled, then his mouth firmed. 'What do you want?' he asked curtly, pouring whisky from a decanter.
Her black eyes flashed. 'I want to smash something over your damned obstinate head!' she gritted through her teeth.
He gave her a barbed smile. 'Go ahead,' he drawled.
Her fists clenched. 'So clever, Jacey. But not clever enough to see what's right under your nose.'
He raised the glass to his lips, draining the whisky. 'Go on,' he drawled, 'I'm fascinated.'
'You'd better be,' she said tightly, 'because it's the only time you're going to hear it, so make the most of it.'
He observed her with narrowed eyes, then set his glass down on the table. 'Okay—shoot.'
She drew a deep breath. 'I've had enough. Enough of you, enough of the arguments—enough of the whole stupid business. I want it to stop— and I mean now.'
His mouth tightened. 'I'm not in the mood for hysterics ‑'
'Hysterics?' She was almost speechless, her teeth clenched as she stared at him. 'Hysterics? My God, you swine! Our marriage is clattering down around our ears and you call it hysterics?'
Anger leapt into the green eyes. 'You pushed us into this,' he bit out, 'both of us. I asked you to wait for me, trust me—but no, you couldn't even do that, that was too much to ask.'
Louisa's temper hit the roof. 'You were married!' she shouted, eyes blazing. 'A married man running around with a twenty-year-old. What does that make you?'
His face was white, his eyes burning. 'A bastard,' he said thickly. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers shaking. 'I know. Don't you think I'm ashamed of it?'
'You ought to be,' she said, breathing hard. 'I gave you everything, and you gave me sweet nothing.'
Hell blazed from his eyes. 'I loved you!' he said hoarsely. 'I couldn't let you go—but I couldn't tell you either. I was too scared of losing you altogether.'
Tears stung the back of her eyes and she blinked them back angrily, refusing to break down in front of him.
'Jacey,' she said in a broken voice, 'we have to solve this. You have to forget about me and Pete . . .'
'No!' He slammed his hand on the table, eyes blazing, and Louisa jumped at the violence in his tone. He watched her, breathing hard. 'Never on God's earth. I see the way he looks at you—do you think I'm blind? Do you think I'm inhuman?'
She started to shake with frustrated anger. 'Damn you! If you can't give me a chance, I'll leave you!'
Jacey went white. Louisa watched the colour drain from his face, leaving him as white as marble, the bones jutting out under his flesh as he stared at her in the tense silence that followed.
'You won't leave me,' he said under his breath.
She shook her head, furiously blinking back tears. 'What do you expect me to do? I don't want Pete—I want you. But you just keep on hurting me—how can you expect me to live like this?'
His mouth shook. 'You won't leave me!'
They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Louisa turned and walked to the door. She looked back, hoping he would try to stop her.
But he didn't move. He stood rigid, watching her walk out on him.
Call me back, she thought desperately, and turned once more to look at him. She searched his face, but all she saw was immovable, stony pride.
Pride, she thought bitterly, and almost laughed. Pride was the culprit all along the line. For the rest of her life, she would never hate any emotion as much as pride.
The door closed with an icy finality behind her. Over, she thought as she climbed the stairs to her room, it's all over. She knew Jacey didn't want her to go—she had seen the look on his face, seen him whiten. But she couldn't back down now.
Pride again, she thought, and viciously hurled her clothes into her suitcase. If she was prepared to let him walk all over her, take over her true self, then she would be able to make their marriage work. But she just wasn't built to be a doormat. She'd rather die than have him wipe his muddy boots all over her back.
The hall was silent as she called a taxi from the nearest town. Looking towards the closed door of the study, she felt like smashing it down and breaking something over his obstinate head. He wouldn't come out, she knew that. He was too damned proud.
Like me! she thought, and laughed, tears in her eyes.
The taxi arrived and she handed the driver her case, looking back at the house. She wasn't sorry to see it go. It would always remind her of the arguments, the bad times with Jacey. She preferred to remember him as he was when she first met him. She bit her lip, swallowing on a sob.
'Where to, miss?' asked the driver.
She looked at him with glazed eyes. 'York Station, please.'
They were both at fault, she realised as the car drove along the narrow country lanes—Jacey because of his secrecy, and she, because of her stupid pride. She could hardly believe that it had all happened because she'd wanted to win a petty argument.
God! she thought, what a lesson to be learned from that. Never let pride get in the way of your feelings.
She stopped dead, and her heart missed a beat as she sat very still. You fool!
'Turn the car around!' she said quickly, leaning forward.
The driver looked at her in the rearview mirror. 'What's that, miss?'
'Turn around,' she said breathlessly, 'I've changed my mind. I want to go home.'
He chuckled, 'Whatever you say, miss.'
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