His Untamed Innocent

by Sara Craven

  Jake had arranged for her to visit the medical practice he used, where she’d been received kindly and cheerfully by Dr Gresham, one of the female partners. Her examination had been gently reassuring, and she’d been told her general health was excellent.

  ‘Although I’d be happier if you were less tense,’ the doctor had said at last. She’d given Marin a searching look. ‘You do want this baby, Miss Wade?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Marin. ‘Oh, yes, I do. It’s—very precious.’

  And she knew that in spite of everything it was the truth, because it was all of the man she loved that she would ever have, or that she would be allowed to love and cherish openly without evoking ridicule or pity.

  It’s you and me against the world, little one, she thought, placing a protective hand on her stomach. Although from tomorrow, when your father transfers me to Harborne, that world may become slightly more bearable. And certainly more real.

  Because the bedroom she’d been occupying was just like an ivory tower, she thought. Everything was in that same pale colour—the walls, the furniture, the bathroom tiles and fixtures and even the fabrics, apart from the vivid band of colour supplied by the crisply folded turquoise-and-gold coverlet making its own style statement from the foot of the bed.

  And I, Marin told herself, make the place look untidy simply by being here.

  Her mother, who’d been staying at Danborough Gate since her arrival from Portugal with Derek five days ago, had much the same thoughts.

  ‘It’s absolutely stunning, of course,’ she’d said cautiously. ‘Like a picture spread from some hideously expensive magazine. But it’s not exactly home-like, certainly not somewhere you could leave a used cup or a newspaper lying around. And I can’t imagine the kind of havoc a baby would wreak. Although I would never say so to dear Jake,’ she added hurriedly.

  ‘He wouldn’t be too disturbed,’ Lynne had said, registering ‘dear Jake’ with an amused lift of an eyebrow. ‘He calls it “the annexe”—a convenient extension to the office with great entertaining space.’ She’d given Marin a mischievous look. ‘A treat in store for you, honey, playing hostess.’

  Marin had bitten her lip. ‘I suppose so.’

  Except it will never happen, she thought. Once the baby’s born my duty’s done, as far as Jake’s concerned, and he won’t want me back in London.

  However, in the cause of neatness, she should really get up from the bed and put away her discarded wedding-dress, still lying where she’d thrown it in a sprawl of filmy, shell-pink lawn on the dressing stool.

  It was a lovely dress and deserved better treatment, although it wasn’t the kind of thing she’d ever intended to buy.

  But Barbara had had her own ideas. She’d immediately vetoed Marin’s half-hearted plan to buy a skirt and jacket which would have some indeterminate future use, and with Lynne’s support had set off with her protesting daughter to trawl the boutiques.

  She had tried in vain to persuade Marin into one of the enchanting creations in bridal white produced for their inspection but, when the soft cloud of high-waisted and ankle-length pink had emerged from its protective cover, she and Lynne had looked at each other and smiled in triumph.

  So, even before the matching silk slip had slid over her head and down her still-slender body, Marin had known the decision was made.

  It was far too romantic, she’d told herself with disquiet as she stared into the changing-room mirror, but that, of course, was what Barbara would expect.

  After all, she’d been told that her shy daughter had been swept off her sensible feet into a passionate affair.

  And her initial meeting with her future son-in-law, at his most charming, had totally confirmed that belief.

  But then Jake’s performance had been flawless throughout, Marin thought with a pang. He’d been warm, attentive and caring, with the occasional discreet hint of passion forcibly reined back.

  And at the wedding this morning he’d produced a master stroke. It had been exactly the private, family occasion he’d promised, with Lynne and Mike acting as witnesses.

  As Marin went to stand at Jake’s side, she met his faintly questioning look with composure, agreeing to take James Anthony Radley-Smith as her lawful wedded husband in the steady tone which gave no hint of the hard knot forming in her chest.

  But she faltered when she caught sight of the pair of gold wedding-rings lying on the cushion in front of them instead of just the single band she’d been expecting.

  I thought it would be hypocritical to get married in church, she thought numbly. Yet now he does this. This…

  Her hand was shaking as Jake took the smaller ring, sliding it on to her finger. When it was her turn, she fumbled it, and his hand closed on hers, guiding her, pushing the gold band firmly over his knuckle and into place.

  He looked down into her stormy eyes, his smile faintly crooked, then he bent and kissed her lightly and sensuously on the mouth.

  It was over in an instant, but Marin felt the pressure of his lips curling in her bones and singing through her bloodstream.

  Then, as she stood half-dazed, she heard laughter and applause and Barbara was hurrying forward, dabbing at her eyes, with Elizabeth, serene in lavender at her side, wanting to be the first to offer their own kisses and congratulations.

  And throughout it all, Marin stood forcing herself to smile, while the words, ‘What have I done? Oh God, what have I done?’ whispered through her brain.

  And they continued to prey on her mind while she picked at the magnificent poached salmon and accompanying array of salads Mrs Connell had prepared for the celebration lunch. She sipped at the half glass of champagne, which was all she was allowed, and listened to Derek’s affectionate praise for her as he welcomed Jake to the family and proposed the health of the bride and groom. She tried not to notice the concern in Lynne’s eyes, and Elizabeth Radley-Smith’s faint frown.

  It’s a rite of passage, she told herself. A formality, like Jake saying just now how beautiful I looked today, and asking them all to drink to his wonderful wife. It’s the done thing, and it will soon be over.

  Lynne and Mike were the first to depart, then Elizabeth came to say goodbye. ‘Although it should really be au revoir.’ She paused. ‘Sadie and the staff have gone into overdrive, making sure everything is perfection for your homecoming.’ She added quietly, ‘You’re arriving on a wave of goodwill, Marin.’

  Not I, thought Marin, but this tiny thing, barely a squiggle inside me. That’s what really matters to everyone, and to Jake most of all, or this wedding would never have happened.

  Barbara was tearful when the car arrived to take them to the airport. ‘As soon as it’s safe for you to fly, you’re both coming out to stay; Jake’s promised me. I’m so happy for you, darling,’ she added huskily. ‘It may have been rather quick, but I know you’re in safe hands.’

  ‘I wish I was coming to see you off.’

  ‘Well, Jake’s doing it for you.’ Her mother paused. ‘Besides, you’re looking a little tired, my love. Why not have a nice rest while you wait for him to come home?’

  An excellent notion, Marin thought drily, but impossible to carry out. She was too much on edge.

  It was very quiet now. Mrs Connell had probably finished restoring the place to its usual pristine condition as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place there. And maybe it hadn’t. Perhaps all today represented was a signature on a dotted line.

  Look at it like that, she told herself. And deal with it.

  The sudden rap on her door lifted her, startled, on to an elbow. Before she could speak, the door opened and Jake walked in, carrying a bowl of flowers—the cream roses, flushed with pink at their hearts, that he’d given her to carry at the ceremony.

  ‘Jean thought you might like to have these,’ he said without preamble. ‘And she’ll wrap the stems in damp cotton-wool tomorrow, if you want to take them with you.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘That’s—good of her. They’re lovely.’
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  He set the bowl down on the dressing table and lifted the folds of pink lawn from the stool, letting them drift through his fingers. He said quietly, ‘And so was this. You took my breath away.’

  She was desperately conscious that she was wearing little more than a layer of silk. She said hurriedly, ‘It wasn’t really my choice—rather too Jane Austen.’

  His brows lifted. ‘You have a problem with Jane Austen?’ he asked with faint amusement.

  ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘In normal circumstances.’ She paused. ‘Did Mummy and Derek get away all right?’

  ‘Their flight was absolutely on time.’

  ‘It was very kind of you to go with them, and to have them stay here.’

  ‘It’s been my pleasure,’ Jake returned. ‘Derek’s a great bloke, and your mother’s a honey.’

  ‘And she seems to like you too.’ Marin bit her lip. ‘Which will make it all the harder for her when she realises that this marriage is a total fraud.’

  ‘On the contrary, it was legally contracted before witnesses.’ He held up his hand where the ring gleamed. ‘Want extra proof?’

  ‘An empty gesture,’ she dismissed curtly.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘More a public statement that I’m off the market.’ He added mockingly, ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘You didn’t.’

  He shrugged. ‘Then call it a whim.’

  ‘And something else that you may live to regret.’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’ His mouth twisting, he dropped the dress back on the stool. ‘Now, may we call a temporary truce and discuss supper? And, before you tell me you’re not hungry, I saw how little you ate at lunch.’ He paused. ‘So, put something on and I’ll make some scrambled eggs.’

  ‘You will?’ she queried incredulously.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I—I didn’t know you could cook,’ she returned lamely.

  ‘Something else I picked up at university, where I was famous for my curried beetroot. However, I’m making the offer to feed you because Jean has made a tactical and tactful withdrawal for the rest of the day, leaving us quite alone to enjoy our wedding night.’

  He paused, studying her reflectively, making her aware all over again of how little she was wearing. ‘She probably thinks it’s time my patience was rewarded.’

  Her throat tightened. ‘I hope that isn’t a viewpoint you share.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Sadly, it is not.’ The mockery was back in his voice, soft, insidious. ‘So supper is quite safe, darling. You will not form part of the meal.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we say twenty minutes?’

  He’d just started to beat the eggs when she arrived in the kitchen, punctual to the minute. He turned, his face expressionless as he surveyed the neutral sand-colour trousers and shirt she’d changed into.

  Well, what was he expecting? she asked herself defensively. A black lace negligee?

  ‘Do you want to eat here or in the dining room?’

  ‘Here, I suppose,’ Marin said, remembering ten days of stilted conversations across the other room’s over-large table.

  ‘As the lesser of two evils, by the sound of it.’ Jake poured the eggs into a pan. ‘You’ll find cutlery and mats in that unit over there—second drawer.’

  The eggs were perfect, served with rolls of crisply grilled bacon and a mound of buttered toast, and Marin discovered she was hungry after all.

  ‘That was wonderful,’ she told him when she’d eaten every scrap. ‘You really can cook.’ She gave him a mischievous look. ‘But I’d rather not sample your curried beetroot.’

  He grinned back at her. ‘Nor would I, not again. It’s a miracle I survived.

  ‘I’ve also made coffee,’ he went on as he put their plates in the dishwasher. ‘Will you have some with me, or shall I fix you Ma’s peppermint concoction?’

  ‘I’ll make myself some tea,’ she said quickly. ‘And take it to my room.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Have it here. I want to talk to you.’

  ‘Talk about what?’

  ‘I think marriage might qualify as a major topic.’ Jake dropped a tea bag into a beaker and added boiling water, before pouring his own coffee. ‘Don’t you?’

  Marin stared down at the cork mat in front of her. ‘I think we’ve said all that’s necessary already.’

  ‘Then you wouldn’t be prepared to reconsider the terms of our agreement?’ he asked as he brought the drinks to the table.

  She stiffened. ‘What do you mean?’

  He resumed his seat, looked down at his coffee. He said slowly, ‘It’s really quite simple. I want you to sleep with me tonight.’

  ‘No.’ Heart hammering unevenly, she pushed her beaker away, spilling some of the tea. ‘No, of course not.’

  His brows lifted. ‘You speak with great conviction.’

  ‘Because that’s how I feel,’ she said hoarsely. ‘You have no right to ask that.’

  ‘Then give me that right,’ Jake said urgently. ‘Darling, you’re my wife, and we should at least try to make something of our life together.’ He reached for her hand, which she snatched away. ‘Come to bed with me and just let me hold you. I won’t ask for more than that, I promise.’

  ‘You think I’d believe any promise of yours—now?’ She got to her feet, trembling. ‘Yes, I made a fool of myself with you once, but that’s over. As you agreed.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘I have your baby. In return, you leave me alone. That will never change. It can’t.’

  ‘Marin,’ he said. ‘Whatever regrets we had afterwards, we were happy together that night. I believe I could make you happy again—if you’d let me try.’

  ‘Then keep to our agreement,’ she said. ‘And I’ll be jubilant. But I won’t sleep with you tonight or any other. I—I couldn’t bear it.’

  His chair scraped noisily across the tiles as he pushed it back from the table and rose. She flinched and saw the bitterness in his face turn to shock, and then a great weariness.

  He said, ‘Oh God, do you think—do you honestly imagine—that I’d…force you?’ He shook his head. ‘I simply hoped we might salvage something from this mess. Give this ludicrous marriage a chance. So I asked you a question. Now I’ve had my answer, and that’s the end of it.’

  He paused, the blue eyes cold. ‘All the same, maybe you’d be wiser to take your tea to your room.’

  He went on flatly, ‘I’ll be here tomorrow at midday to take you to Harborne. And you’ll have the master suite there entirely to yourself. When I visit, I’ll use my old room. That should put enough distance between us to reassure you.’

  He added curtly, ‘Now, goodnight.’

  Marin left the beaker where it was and fled.

  The bedroom ceiling hadn’t changed much in the half-hour she’d been absent, she thought as she lay staring up at it once again.

  No cracks had suddenly appeared in its smooth surface, threatening to bring the whole thing crashing down around her.

  No, it was her life that lay in that kind of ruin, and she had brought it entirely on herself.

  Oh God, she thought, shivering. Just for a moment, when we were laughing together in the kitchen, it felt so close, so right, like that other night all over again. And if he’d taken me in his arms then I’d have gone with him, given him anything—everything—that he asked.

  But I need him to give in return. Because sex, however wonderful, can never be a substitute for the love I want from him. That I can’t live without.

  Let me hold you…

  She turned over, burying her flushed face in the pillow, remembering what it was like to lie wrapped in his arms. To feel the strength of bone and muscle under her cheek, and breathe the scent of his skin.

  There hasn’t been a night, she thought with anguish, when I haven’t remembered—haven’t longed for him.

  So why did I turn him away? Why couldn’t I simply accept what was on offer and allow myself a little warmth to balance against a
ll the chill to come? To armour me against the loneliness, when eventually he turns to someone else.

  And, even if it’s merely kindness again rather than passion, isn’t that better than nothing, which is all I have now?

  In a drawer she found a white silk-chiffon nightdress, still un-worn, that Lynne had persuaded her to buy for Queens Barton.

  She slipped it over her head, feeling the caress of the delicate fabric as it slid down her body.

  In the shadows of the room, she looked as insubstantial as a ghost. But she was warm, living flesh and blood. A bride—a woman going to the man she loved.

  Everywhere was in darkness as she went barefoot out into the passage, making her way to the room at the end.

  She wouldn’t say anything, she thought. She’d just slide into bed beside him, letting her presence speak for her. Offering him her willing surrender.

  As she opened his door and slipped inside, she wondered if he’d be awake, finding sleep as elusive as she had herself.

  The curtains were apart and the glow of the city lights outside illumined the room, revealing without mercy to her stunned gaze that the wide bed was empty, its covers undisturbed.

  Telling her silently that the man who’d become her husband only that morning was spending his wedding night elsewhere—in all probability not alone.

  And that their marriage was over even before it had begun.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘OF COURSE THERE’S going to be a party,’ Elizabeth Radley-Smith declared firmly. ‘Everyone in the locality is dying to meet you.’

  ‘I’m not exactly a party person.’ Marin bit her lip. ‘Besides, is it really a good idea—under the circumstances?’

  ‘You are Jake’s wife,’ Elizabeth returned. ‘That’s the only circumstance that matters.’ She paused. ‘Is he coming down this weekend?’

  ‘No,’ Marin said. ‘Apparently not.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Her mother-in-law’s tone was austere. ‘And what reason did he give this time?’

  ‘I didn’t actually speak to him. His new PA called to give me the message.’ And I’m beginning to hate the sound of her voice.