All of a sudden, Robert's recovery halted and the days were filled with a new anxiety as Deborah finally reached her decision.
Despite his weak protests, she married him at his bedside two weeks later. Frances's grateful face almost made her cry, and when she looked at Robert she knew she was doing the right thing.
The doctor now gave him only a few months. His injuries were too severe and he was still very weak. It was heartbreaking news, but Robert was happy, and in a strange way Deborah could share that.
She would sit by his bed all day, her eyes full of affection and they would talk for hours, holding hands. She felt glad that she'd married him because it obviously meant so much to him.
Three months later, he died peacefully in his sleep. Deborah felt numb. It seemed as though everyone she had ever cared for had been taken away from her.
Back in London, a month or two after the funeral, she was buying some fruit, and absent-mindedly walked out of the shop without her change.
The assistant, who she knew quite well, called after her. 'Mrs Stevens, your change.'
Deborah turned, smiling and found herself face to face with Jake. She hadn't seen him for months and now he had come from nowhere. He was staring down at her with a bleak bitter anger burning in his eyes.
Her smile died on her lips and she stared back, unable to break the eye contact.
He did not say a word, his silence trapping her. She gazed up into his familiar hard-boned face, and felt herself shaking inside. She couldn't stop looking at him.
Jake finally broke the silence, his glance dropping to her left hand, where a thin gold band circled her wedding finger. She had not bothered to remove it after Robert died. She had forgotten she was still wearing it.
'Mrs Stevens,' he repeated and the words sounded curious on his lips, harsh and contemptuous. Deborah realised with a tiny flash of shock, that he had not known about her marriage.
'Yes,' she replied shakily, his obvious derision cutting her to ribbons, and forcing her to pull herself together, to lie for self-protection. 'You didn't know?'
Jake's mouth hardened into a cruel line. He looked at her, as though he wanted to kill her. 'That poor fool you were seeing, I suppose,' he drawled, with a smile that came nowhere near the ice in his eyes.
It was too close to the truth and Deborah flinched.
'Drop dead,' she muttered, turning away, unable to bear any more. She almost ran from him, tears suddenly scalding her eyes. But she couldn't miss his cynical 'good luck,' as she rushed blindly into the street. . .
The telephone was ringing, bringing her back to the present to notice that the room had darkened around her. There was only the orange glare of the street lights, softening the furniture into unknown shadows.
She picked up the receiver, still lost in memory, her hand shaking in case it was Jake. It wasn't.
'How about dinner tonight?' Cole's voice travelled down the line, making her jump.
'Cole. ..' She was confused for a moment, as the invitation sank in.
'Deborah, are you okay?'
'Yes, yes, of course.' She snapped on the lamp that stood on the desk, blinking in the glare. 'Dinner? No, I'm sorry, I can't make it tonight.'
'Date?' Cole asked casually.
'No, a party. An old friend—it's her twenty-first,' Deborah explained. 'I'm sorry'
'Hey, don't apologise.' Cole sounded relieved.
Because she didn't have a date? She remembered Corfu and frowned. That was something else she would have to sort out. 'Okay, I won't.' She made her voice sound bright and easy. 'But you'll have to find someone else to keep you company. Has Janetta gone back to New York?'
Cole snorted expressively. 'Yes, thank God. That woman is like an alligator, she's after my blood. Why the hell do you think I'm back in London?'
'Don't be mean!' Deborah protested, but she was laughing, because she could see what he meant.
'You weren't married to her,' Cole said, laughing too. 'Anyway, enjoy yourself tonight, sweetheart. And don't forget, you're seeing that client in Kendal tomorrow—so lay off the booze.'
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dark betrayal
'Yes, sir!' She had forgotten about driving up to Kendal. It had completely slipped her mind. She wasn't looking forward to the long drive up north.
As she replaced the receiver, the smile faded from her lips. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was well after seven. The party was an hour away and she felt like crying her eyes out.
CHAPTER FIVE
They were leaving for Tess's party at eight-thirty, which left Deborah just under an hour to get ready.
She ran a bath quickly, her party mood nonexistent. She felt miserable, heavy with memories of the past, and the thought of coming face to face with Jake again didn't improve her mood.
She lay in the scented water, trying to tell herself that she would cope. She wasn't a naive, unsophisticated teenager any more. Three years ago, Jake had smiled and demanded everything, and she had handed it all to him on a plate. She would have done anything for him.
Grimacing with self-derision she shampooed her hair. Once made, such mistakes could never be undone. There was no chance to wipe the slate clean and begin again. Foolishly she had expected fidelity from Jake, when he had never promised it. When she had realised that Leila was his mistress, she had hated him, burning for revenge.
She rinsed her hair, tugging her fingers through the wet weight of it. How did she feel about him now? The need for revenge had faded, but she still hated him, feared him, mistrusted him. And she didn't want to see him again.
She stepped out of the bath, gazing at her naked body as she reached for a towel. No man had touched her since Jake. He had been her first and only lover. Unbidden, the memory of his hands against her skin, his mouth touching her breasts, rose in her mind. She shivered, her body aching with sudden need. She bit her lip hard, turning from the mirror. Perhaps tonight she would meet a lover, someone to exorcise Jake from her body and from her mind. Perhaps.
She dressed with care after drying her hair and brushing it until it shone like a golden halo around her face. She applied her make-up with all the skill she could muster. She needed a mask of confidence, something to hide behind. When she was finally ready, she knew she looked good.
The black dress was perfect, well worth the extravagance, and as a final touch, she clipped back her golden hair at the nape of her neck with an ebony comb. With one last look in the mirror, she left the bedroom and collected her fur cape, her handbag and the slim gold bracelet she had bought for Tess.
She wandered round the flat, switching off lights and closing doors and was ready when Oliver arrived. He whistled under his breath as she opened the door. 'You look fantastic. Pulled out all the stops, eh?'
'Very perceptive,' she retorted with a smile, but she locked the door with fingers that wouldn't stop shaking.
Oliver watched her, frowning slightly as though he had only just realised how much courage it was going to take for her to attend this party.
'Don't worry,' he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders as they walked downstairs. 'I'll stick close by you.'
Deborah turned to look at him, taking in the gleaming smoothness of his hair and the immaculate darkness of his dinner jacket and trousers. 'Does it show that much?'
'Only to me.'
Stepping out into the cold night air, Deborah knew that if Oliver could see her nervousness, then Jake certainly would.
'You won't leave me alone, will you?' she begged, knowing she was being foolish.
Oliver promised but as they sped out of London towards Jake's house, the promise held little consolation or comfort.
They arrived too soon, even though the house was some distance from London.
Oliver pulled off the road through high wrought iron gates, flanked by huge stone lions, and down a rhododendron-lined drive.
Deborah looked at the house as they approached it, her heart turning over. It was still exactly the same, t
hough she hadn't been here for three years—a huge late Georgian house, half covered with climbing ivy.
Oliver parked next to a grey Rolls Royce, smiling wryly as he pulled to a halt. The front of the house was lined with rows of cars. The imposing front door was wide open, the warmth of light and music spilling out into the silent night.
Deborah slid out of the car, pulling her cape tighter round her body. It was colder here in the country, the sky that thick impenetrable black that is never seen in the city. She stood looking round, not wanting to go inside, glad that Oliver was still locking the car. He might not be here, she kept telling herself, trying to hold her fear at bay. Somewhere far away an owl hooted and the trees whispered in the cold wind.
'Ready?' Oliver was beside her, taking her arm. He was smiling and she knew why. Those expensive cars spoke of money and influence, perhaps a commission. A lot of Oliver's work came out of social introductions.
'You mercenery,' she said under her breath, as they walked towards the house.
Oliver laughed, about to reply when Tess appeared, framed in the glowing light from the doorway.
'Deborah! I thought it was you when the car drew up. I've been waiting for you. And Oliver, how are you? Oh, it's so lovely to see you both again. Come in.' She rushed forward, not pausing for breath, pulling them inside, enclosing them in warmth and welcome.
'It's lovely to see you, too,' Deborah found herself smiling despite her shaking nerves. 'You look beautiful,' she added, leaning forward to kiss the younger girl's cheek. She meant it. Tess looked stunning in a candy-striped ball dress. Tightly ruched from breast to hip, leaving her shoulders bare, it flared out to her knees. Her dark hair was scraped back into a shining knot on the top of her head, leaving the delicate bone structure of her face exposed. Around her throat lay a glittering diamond necklace.
She saw Deborah looking at it, and reached up to touch it. 'Jake's present,' she explained with excited eyes. 'Isn't it fantastic?'
'Mmm, gorgeous.' The mention of Jake's name made Deborah's heart miss a beat. Was he here? Tess had given her an opportunity to voice the casual question but she couldn't bring herself to ask it, and the moment passed.
'Shall I take your coat? Come upstairs, you can freshen up in my room.' Tess turned to Oliver. 'Will you be?'
He cut her off mid-sentence. 'Run along children, and talk,' he laughed, already moving towards the music.
Tess giggled and whisked Deborah up the wide staircase to her bedroom.
'I was so afraid you wouldn't come,' she confided, watching as Deborah discarded her cape and began fiddling with her hair.
'We weren't planning to come back from Corfu until next week,' Deborah replied, staring at her reflection in a large mahogany-framed mirror.
'So I dragged you away from all that sunshine,' Tess said laughingly, not sounding at all repentant.
'I did want to come,' Deborah admitted. 'But...'
'I know. I said some terrible things to you,' Tess cut in, misunderstanding.
Deborah pushed her hair behind her ears and turned to the younger girl. She felt embarrassed.
'That's all in the past. Let's forget it.' As she said it, she knew that neither of them could.
Over a year after she and Jake had parted, long after Robert's death, she and Tess had bumped into each other in town. Tess had snubbed her with obvious and deliberate anger.
Hurt at such hostility when they had been such friends, Deborah had caught up with her and demanded to know what was wrong.
Tess had been very forthright and Deborah remembered every word.
'Are you trying to tell me that you really don't know?' Tess had said coldly. And when Deborah had protested, she had continued, 'Look, I don't want anything to do with you. I can't forgive you for what you've done to Jake. You're a cold two-timing bitch!'
'What I've done to Jake?' Deborah had echoed, but she had been talking to herself. Tess had already walked away.
It had hurt at lot at the time. Tess had obviously not known about Jake's affair with Leila. Perhaps that had been good thing, she idolised Jake after all, fiercely loyal to him. There was no reason why she should be hurt as well.
'Oh, Deborah, I can't forget it,' Tess said now. 'I felt awful about it afterwards. I meant to ring you— but somehow I never plucked up the courage.'
Deborah took Tess's hand. 'I understand how you must have felt. You were only sticking up for Jake.'
'It was awful after you left,' Tess burst out, her eyes shadowed. 'Jake started drinking heavily. He was hell to live with, so angry all the time—we all kept out of his way. Then I heard that you'd got married, and I thought, well, you know.'
'Yes, I do know. Please, let's forget it and start again. I always wanted us to stay friends,' Deborah said quickly, unable to explain her feelings or the situation fully. She held out her arms and the two girls embraced.
'Let's go down and join the party,' Deborah said, laughing. 'Everyone will be wondering where you are.'
She checked her face again, so glad that everything was back to normal with Tess. 'Oh,' she remembered, rummaging in her handbag. 'I've bought you a present. Happy birthday.' She watched as Tess tore the paper off the long flat package.
'Oh, Deborah, it's beautiful!' Tess gasped, pulling the bracelet from the satin-lined box. 'I'll wear it now, it goes with my necklace perfectly. Thank you so much.'
As they walked downstairs together, Deborah was going over in her mind what Tess had said about Jake. She found it very hard to believe that he had ever cared enough to turn to drink. Unless—an uncharacteristically cynical smile touched her lips— unless it was just that he couldn't bear to lose.
Music and chatter spilled out of all the rooms downstairs. Tess was waylaid almost immediately by a tall handsome young man in a white dinner jacket, and whisked away to dance.
Deborah grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and wandered towards the room where the band was playing, in search of Oliver.
It was a large high room, crowded with people. Along one wall, linen covered tables groaned under the weight of food, the centrepiece a huge white birthday cake. As she lingered a little uncertainly near the door, a hand touched her shoulder and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Turning, she saw it was Daisy, Jake's housekeeper.
'Miss Deborah, I thought it was you. How nice to see you again.' Daisy had been housekeeper for Jake's grandfather. She was very old-fashioned in her ways and nobody knew how old she was. She seemed perpetually stuck in her fifties, a small rounded women with a tight knot of grey hair above her lined face. The family were often in fear of her, especially Tess. She was strict, with a sharp tongue but she had always been kind to Deborah, and she was smiling now.
'How are you?' Deborah asked, smiling back.
'I'm getting along,' the housekeeper replied with a faintly martyred air.
'It's a lovely party.' Deborah looked around, and her heart suddenly stopped beating. A few feet away stood Jake, his back to her as he chatted to the knot of people gathered around him.
'More work than pleasure for some of us,' Daisy grumbled on. 'You'll excuse me, dear, I can't stand here talking. I have to check the food. You can't trust these catering companies although, of course, Mr Jake got the very best...'
Deborah nodded, hardly listening as the housekeeper bustled importantly away.
She was staring at Jake. He was taller than most of the men in the room, his black hair gleaming in the light. He had not seen her yet, so she could watch him undetected, unable to drag her eyes away. The rest of the room disappeared.
He wore a black dinner jacket, superbly tailored to his wide shoulders. The group around him were attentive, respectful, trying to impress him, as people always did. She couldn't see his face, but she could imagine his expression, the grey eyes amused, his mouth straight. He was used to this sort of treatment. He was a man who commanded respect. He wore his strength and power easily.
Deborah watched, hating herself but unable to stop, a
s a woman joined the group around Jake. A tall slender woman with rich chestnut hair that fell about her face and shoulders in studied disarray. She was very pretty, with sharp vivacious features and sparkling brown eyes. Her dress was buttercup satin, sexy and expensive, and she slid her arm through Jake's with confidence, smiling up into his face, as though she knew her attention was wanted.
Deborah turned away then, a sharp pain stabbing at her inside. Jake's latest lover? she wondered, not examining the pain too closely. What did it matter to her? She didn't want him, did she? Somehow none of her thoughts rang true.
Oliver appeared at her side. 'How about some food? I don't know about you, but I'm starving,' he admitted with a smile.
Deborah could not have eaten a thing, but she allowed him to steer her towards the laden tables, praying that Jake wouldn't see her. As she half-heartedly nibbled on a small piece of Brie, Oliver said, 'He's here, I see.' His voice was casual but he was watching her carefully.
'Yes.' She threw the cheese away, suddenly hating the taste of it.
'Not as bad as you thought?'
'It doesn't bother me at all,' she said airily, but she was lying through her teeth, trying to hide the cracks. 'How was it with Beatrice?' she asked, changing the subject.
Oliver shrugged, not meeting her eyes. 'I don't want to talk about it.'
'Okay.' She immediately wished she hadn't mentioned Beatrice's name.
Tess's voice came over her shoulder. 'Secrets, Oliver?'
Oliver smiled warmly, his mask firmly back in place. 'It all adds to my air of mysterious charm,' he said flippantly, and Tess giggled. Deborah turned smiling, but the smile died on her lips. Around Tess's waist lay Jake's arm. He was standing with his sister and he was only a few inches away from Deborah.
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