His Inconvenient Wife

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘What about the press?’ Damien asked. ‘How are we to keep this private? Doctors and nurses are meant to maintain a confidential silence, but what about the other ward staff? One whiff of your name and someone stands to make a fortune out of it.’

  Emily didn’t know where to look. Damien’s comments seemed to be directed towards her, as if he didn’t trust her not to rush out and release a press statement immediately.

  ‘Of course I’d like to keep things quiet for as long as possible,’ Rose said. ‘But it’s a large teaching hospital and this procedure will attract a lot of attention. I’m prepared for that.’ She looked at Damien directly, her dark eyes, so like his, bright with courage and conviction. ‘I must do this, Damien. It’s my last chance. Surely you must see that?’

  Damien sighed and, putting down his drink, gave his aunt another warm hug. ‘I see that you’re a very determined woman who wants another grab at centre stage.’

  ‘And why shouldn’t I?’ Rose smiled up at him when he released her. ‘With you married now I feel I’ve got something to live for. God willing, there’ll be great-nephews and nieces, and I want to be in good health to enjoy them.’

  ‘Don’t rush the poor darlings, Rose.’ Linda laughed. ‘They’ve only been married a few weeks.’

  Emily wanted the sofa to open up and swallow her. She felt the heat of Damien’s gaze on her but resolutely kept her eyes averted. She didn’t know what to make of Linda. She seemed to be very fond of Rose, and didn’t appear to be uncomfortable at all at being in the same room as Damien’s new wife. Was she so brazen, and he so without shame, that they would openly flaunt their clandestine relationship in such a way? There was certainly an intimacy about them both. Emily could see it in the way they looked at each other occasionally. A little smile, a knowing glance, the comfort and ease with which they greeted each other, usually with a kiss to both cheeks or a gentle squeeze of the hand.

  Emily sipped at her drink and tried to stop looking at them. It was like a form of torture and she couldn’t imagine why Rose encouraged it.

  The conversation moved to other things, and soon after Rose directed them to the elegantly laid table in the dining room.

  ‘Of course, I’m not much of a cook,’ she confessed. ‘I organised for Charlie to pick me up some take-away earlier.’

  ‘And not just any old take-away.’ Linda smiled knowingly at Damien and Emily’s heart gave another tight squeeze of pain. ‘Knowing Rose, it will be no less than some five-star restaurant she’s found in the telephone book.’

  Damien grinned and poured Emily another glass of soda water while they waited for Rose to bring in the first course.

  ‘Should I help her?’ Emily half rose in her chair but Damien’s hand settled on hers, stalling her.

  ‘No, sit down. She hasn’t played hostess for years. Let her have her fun.’

  Emily sat back down and wished she could think of something to say to contribute to the lively conversation Linda was having with Damien, but her mind kept wandering, going off at useless tangents to where her heart wasn’t breaking and her dreams weren’t being smashed by the hard heels of reality.

  ‘What do you think, Emily?’ Linda asked some time later, looking at her intently.

  ‘Sorry?’ Emily blinked, dragging her attention back. ‘Did you say something?’

  Linda smiled patiently. ‘I asked if you thought Danny should be told about Rose’s surgery?’

  Emily looked at Damien, but his expression was closed.

  ‘He…well, he is her nephew too,’ she said cautiously. ‘But isn’t that up to Rose?’

  ‘What’s up to me?’ Rose came in at that point, balancing a tray of oysters topped with sour cream and caviare.

  ‘We were discussing whether or not you wanted Danny to know about your operation,’ Linda said.

  Rose handed round the entrées and waited until she’d sat down before replying.

  ‘I’d like to keep Danny out of this, if you don’t mind. I realise blood is thicker than water and all that, but Danny has rather a tainted sense of family loyalty, don’t you agree?’

  Emily bent her head to her oysters and hoped her face wasn’t as hot and flushed as it felt. The very mention of Danny’s name caused her to feel guilt-stricken, and with Damien sitting beside her, and his opinion on the paternity of the child she was carrying, she knew it only made her reaction all the more damning.

  ‘Danny has quite a lot of responsibilities he has yet to accept,’ Damien said after a slight pause. ‘And I, for one, am going to make certain he faces up to them.’

  ‘Don’t tell me he’s got another girl into trouble?’ Rose asked, reaching for her wine. ‘After that last one I would’ve thought he’d have learnt his lesson.’

  Emily was sure she was going to be sick. The oysters on her plate seemed to be staring at her, taunting her with their grotesque little deformed shapes, the caviare swirling into a red globule that looked just like blood.

  ‘Excuse me…’ She pushed herself from the table, stumbling over the edge of Damien’s chair.

  ‘Emily! Are you all right?’ Rose and Linda spoke in concerned unison.

  Damien was on his feet, and his hand came around her so quickly that Emily didn’t have time to fall. She pushed out of his hold to get to the bathroom, her face as white as a sheet. She could hear Linda’s sympathetic tones trailing after her as she left.

  ‘Andre was the same. Sick as a dog. It’s this wretched bug that’s going around. Poor Emily.’

  Emily heaved into Rose’s pink shell-like basin, too far gone to care that Damien was at her shoulder, witnessing her distress.

  He handed her a face cloth, his other arm stroking the clammy skin under the back of her hair.

  ‘I shouldn’t have made you come out tonight,’ he said. ‘You really needed a quiet night at home.’

  Emily washed her face and steadied herself against the basin.

  ‘Yes, well, given a choice I would’ve preferred my own company to that of your mistress, charming as she is.’

  Damien met her shadowed eyes in the mirror.

  ‘Emily, there’s something you need to know about Linda,’ he began awkwardly.

  Emily turned and faced him, their bodies so close they were almost touching. Damien stepped back to give her more room.

  ‘You love her, don’t you?’ she said in a flat tone.

  Damien’s eyes gave nothing away.

  ‘I saw you,’ she continued bitterly before he could respond. ‘In town yesterday. I was coming to have lunch with you. You were outside your office; quite touching it was. She was blocking the traffic and you were leaning down to talk to her. Probably telling her your wife doesn’t understand you and asking could you meet her later.’

  ‘Emily—’ He frowned heavily. ‘You don’t understand. It’s not—’

  ‘I don’t understand?’ she flared at him, uncaring that their voices were probably carrying. ‘You know what I don’t understand? I don’t understand why I’m part of all this.’ She waved her hand around to encompass their surroundings. ‘I planned to write a book—against my better judgement, I might add, but I was desperate to make ends meet. Suddenly I find myself married to one of the key characters, who happens to be embroiled in an affair with one of his partner’s wives. I find myself becoming overly attached to the subject of my book, who then decides to come out of hiding after years of seclusion. I’m forced to sit through an evening with your mistress casting loving looks your way across the table, and on top of that I’m expected to eat oysters as if nothing is wrong.’

  ‘I realise how difficult this has been for you—’

  ‘Difficult?’ she railed at him. ‘You have no idea of what this is like for me.’

  ‘I understand, believe me. As soon as Danny’s name was mentioned I knew you’d find it awkward. But the sooner you get used to the idea that Danny is not going to stand by you, the better. He’s just not capable of it.’

  ‘This is not about Danny!�
�� she cried. ‘This is about you and me.’

  ‘I’ve already told you I’ll accept the child as mine,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘No one need know other than us.’

  Emily turned back to the basin, her hands clenched as if hanging on to a lifeline.

  ‘Damien.’ Her tone was bleak. ‘I need to tell you something. Something important.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I need to tell you something first. It’s about Linda.’

  Emily turned back to face him, her eyes widening in panic. He wanted to leave her for Linda; she was sure of it.

  ‘Linda is—’

  ‘Emily? Are you all right?’ Rose’s voice was just outside the door. ‘Damien? Shall I call the doctor?’

  Damien sighed and, leaving Emily to wash her face, opened the bathroom door to his aunt.

  ‘That won’t be necessary, Aunt Rose,’ he said reassuringly. ‘We spent the day at the beach. Emily’s had a little too much sun. I’ll take her home shortly.’

  His aunt murmured something Emily didn’t catch as she rinsed her face one more.

  He turned back to her once his aunt had gone. ‘Do you want me to take you home?’

  Emily shook her head. ‘This is your aunt’s first dinner party in fifteen years or so. I don’t want to be the one to spoil it.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ he said. ‘I can always come back once I’ve taken you home.’

  Yes, Emily thought. And continue where you left off with Linda Janssen.

  ‘Do what you like,’ she said defeatedly. ‘It’s all the same to me.’

  Damien sighed. ‘Come on,’ he said heavily. ‘I’ll take you home.’

  He helped her into the house and hovered around as she made preparations for going to bed.

  ‘Shouldn’t you have something to eat?’ he asked as she pulled the bed covers back.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘That seems to be your stock phrase,’ he commented drily. ‘But it’s hardly one that will ensure the health and well-being of your expected infant.’

  ‘I can’t see that it can be any concern of yours,’ she said, brushing past him to reach for her wrap.

  ‘Someone has to be concerned,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t trouble yourself.’ She tied the ends of her wrap viciously. ‘Anyway, I find your hypocrisy nauseating.’

  ‘And my presence as well, I take it?’

  She flashed him a malevolent glance. ‘Go figure.’

  He turned and left her without another word. Emily stared at the empty space he’d so recently occupied and bit her lip. She didn’t like herself in this mood, but what did he expect? How could he expect her to tolerate an evening in the company of his latest fling and not complain?

  She threw herself across the huge bed and sobbed until there were very few tears left. She felt exhausted. Physically and mentally drained. As if all her energy had been tapped.

  She must have slept. She woke to the sounds of someone moving about the house downstairs and sat up, brushing the hair out of her face and listening intently.

  She heard Damien’s tread on the stairs. She’d become aware of every sound he made, her senses on full alert to his every move. He opened the bedroom door but she didn’t have time to slip down beneath the covers again and pretend to be asleep.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, turning on the lamp by the bedside.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ she said honestly, blinking at the increase in light.

  ‘I’ll get you something,’ he offered. ‘Aunt Rose sent a doggy bag for you in case you were feeling better.’

  ‘Not oysters, I hope?’

  He gave a wry half-smile. ‘No, not oysters.’

  He came back with a dainty portion of lemon chicken with spinach-flecked wild rice and a shell-like bread roll, all laid out on a tray, complete with damask napkin and silver cutlery.

  Emily picked up her fork and nibbled at the food, conscious of his silent watchful gaze.

  ‘I hope Rose wasn’t too disappointed about me leaving,’ she said between mouthfuls.

  ‘She wasn’t disappointed, just concerned.’ He sat on the end of the bed and undid his black shoes. ‘I had to promise I wouldn’t upset you. She was most insistent.’

  ‘And did you promise?’

  He swung his legs around to face her. She could see the tired lines etched in his face, his broad shoulders slightly slumped. He undid his tie and tossed it carelessly to the wing chair in the corner.

  ‘It has never been my intention to upset you,’ he said wearily. He lay down across the end of the bed, one of his shoulders just near her feet. He put one arm over his eyes, as if the light from the shielded globe above him was too bright for his tired eyes. ‘But I seem to have got us both into a God-awful mess, all the same.’

  Emily wasn’t sure what to say. Her appetite had waned and she crumbled the bread roll with restless fingers as she sat there watching him.

  ‘The truth is, you caught me off-guard,’ he said.

  ‘I…I did?’

  He still lay with his eyes closed against the light.

  ‘Your interest in Rose was too close for comfort. I had to do something to stop you writing about her. Marrying you was taking it to extremes, I know, but I didn’t really stop to think. I had to protect Rose and Linda, no matter what.’

  ‘Linda?’ Emily straightened in agitation at the mention of that name. ‘Why protect Linda? What has she got to do with Rose?’

  Damien levered himself up off the bed, his gaze meshing with her questioning one.

  ‘Because,’ he said slowly and deliberately, ‘Linda is Rose’s illegitimate daughter.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘LINDA’S your cousin?’ Emily stared at him, her mouth dropping open. ‘You’re having an affair with your cousin?’

  Damien shook his head, giving her a world-weary look.

  ‘I’ve said this so many times I’m sick of saying it. Linda Janssen and I are not having, have never had, nor will ever have an affair. However, I do care for her, very deeply. Both she and Rose have suffered greatly in the years they’ve been apart and I promised myself I’d do anything I could to protect them from any further pain, as you’ve more or less gathered.’

  Emily pushed the tray to one side with unsteady hands.

  ‘Does…does Danny know?’

  ‘I think he suspects something, but so far we’ve been able to keep him out of it. Linda and Rose have only recently been reunited. Rose told me tonight she’s been wanting to tell you for weeks but Linda had sworn her to secrecy. She didn’t want the press to get wind of it and blow it all up in their faces. Linda’s adoptive parents needed time to adjust to their daughter activating the search for her mother. It was fraught with legal difficulties, and then you came in, informing the public of your plans to release a biography on Rose. It was a potential minefield and I had to act quickly.’

  Emily needed time to absorb his words. They’d impacted on her deeply. She didn’t know how to deal with the fact that she’d been so wrong about him; that she’d been so blind. She’d accused him of having an affair when all the time he’d been trying to protect the two people he loved deeply. She’d planned to write about the family as if they were characters in a play of her own devising, not real people at all, with real emotions, real pain. She felt so ashamed.

  She knew her silence was condemning her, but she couldn’t engage her mind and mouth to say the words she needed to say. To ask for the forgiveness she silently craved, to tell him of her own doubts and fears that had driven her from her unhappy childhood headlong into the deep, dark, secretive pool of his, stirring up secrets and adding to the speculation that had dogged him most.

  ‘I’ll leave you to get some rest.’ He spoke across her jumbled thoughts. ‘I’m flying to Brisbane tomorrow with Linda. I’m going to meet her adoptive parents, encourage them to meet Rose. They’ve resisted so far, but Linda feels it might help if I talk to them.’

  ‘Because of your own experiences?
’ she managed to ask.

  He gave her a long studied look.

  ‘Rose told you, didn’t she?’

  Emily nodded, unable to speak, emotion clogging her throat, but he’d already turned away and didn’t see the glitter of tears welling in her eyes.

  ‘I want Linda to have what I missed out on. A proper and loving relationship with her natural mother.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said once she had control of her voice, but when she looked up he’d already gone.

  When Monday finally came around, after one of the longest Sundays in Emily’s life, she changed her mind about visiting Danny at the address he’d given her. Instead, she called him on his mobile and left a message for him to meet her at Damien’s house. She felt safer that way, not trusting him to fulfil his side of the deal.

  Emily looked at her watch. She had five minutes. Everything she owned was contained in the single bank cheque that lay in between the pages of her appointment diary on the sideboard. She’d sold her apartment within hours of releasing it. The real estate agent had at first questioned her haste, but he’d had an anxious buyer in the wings and the deal had been signed and with the lawyers before lunchtime.

  She checked her watch. Three minutes.

  She opened the door on his second knock and felt instantly nauseated as his greedy eyes ran over her.

  ‘I’m on time, Emily,’ he said suavely.

  ‘Let’s get this over with.’ Her tone was dark. ‘Where’s the diary?’

  His cold blue eyes chilled her to the marrow but she held his gaze.

  ‘Where’s the money?’ he asked.

  ‘We never did discuss how much you want.’

  ‘You know me, Em.’ His eyes ran over her. ‘I’ve got expensive tastes.’

  ‘I can’t—won’t negotiate on this,’ she said. ‘Like you, I have limited funds.’

  His lip curled. ‘Isn’t my brother paying his way?’

  Her eyes glittered with anger. ‘I can’t imagine what you mean by that.’

  ‘Can’t you?’ He laughed.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Hasn’t he bribed his way into your bed yet?’