His Untouched Bride

by Penny Jordan

  ‘All right,’ she agreed, ‘but then we’ll have to rush back down.’

  ‘Look…they’re getting off now,’ David called out, ‘but I can’t see Uncle Jon.’

  As Sophy had guessed, Jon was the last off the plane, a clutch of dark suited business men in front of him, the whole party impeded by the slow progress of an old lady who was having difficulty walking.

  One of them, obviously growing impatient, pushed past her. His companions followed suit, and Sophy felt an impotent cry of warning rise in her throat as she saw the old lady lose her balance.

  What happened next was so out of character that for a moment or two she actually doubted the evidence of her own eyes.

  Jon who never seemed to be aware of what was going on around him…Jon who could often be so clumsy and awkward, moved forward so quickly that Sophy blinked. He caught the old lady before she could fall, supporting her with one arm while he held on to his briefcase with the other. She had never seen anyone move so quickly, Sophy reflected, nor move with such controlled reflexes, unless it was on the sports field.

  ‘Gosh, did you see the way Uncle Jon saved that lady?’ Alex asked, round-eyed. ‘It was really fast, wasn’t it?’

  ‘That’s because of playing rugger,’ David informed her loftily. ‘He used to play when he was at Cambridge.’

  ‘And he did rowing as well,’ Alex chipped in, as Sophy drew them away from the viewing windows and towards the arrivals lounge.

  She had known about the rugby but it had never occurred to her to think of Jon as an athletic man. Chris who prided himself on his physical fitness spent at least three evenings per week in the gym, jogged and played amateur football but, as far as she knew, Jon did none of these things. There were of course those totally unexpected muscles shaping his shoulders and chest though. Irritated with herself without knowing why, Sophy tried to redirect her thoughts.

  For once, Jon managed to negotiate the hazards of passport control and baggage checks without any mishaps.

  As he came through the gate Alex slipped her hand from Sophy’s and ran towards him. Watching him field her as easily as any rugby ball and transfer his baggage to his other hand, Sophy was forced to admit that there were obviously still some aspects of her future husband that she was not familiar with. The knowledge was a little unsettling. Up until now she had thought she knew Jon very well indeed and had been quite content with the slightly exasperated toleration which was the normal feeling he aroused within her. Indeed she liked feeling faintly motherly and superior to him, she realised. Thoroughly startled by this sudden discovery about herself, she was the last of the trio to step forward and greet him.

  ‘That was really good how you saved that old lady from falling, Uncle Jon,’ David was saying. ‘We watched you from the gallery, didn’t we, Sophy?’

  Over David’s head the navy blue eyes fixed rather myopically and vaguely on her own.

  Alex piped up, ‘Yes, Sophy was so surprised that her mouth was open—like this.’ She demonstrated Sophy’s stunned surprise far too well, the latter thought uncomfortably, feeling the slow crawl of embarrassed colour seeping up under her skin as Jon continued to look at her.

  Her embarrassment heightened when David asked suddenly, ‘Aren’t you going to kiss Sophy, Uncle Jon? You can do now that you’re going to get married.’

  ‘I don’t think I will right now, old son, if you don’t mind.’ Watching Jon ruffle David’s hair and listening to the mild, even tone of his voice as he sidetracked his nephew away from such a potentially embarrassing subject, Sophy knew she should be grateful to Jon for what he had done but for some strange reason, what she was really feeling, if she was honest, was a sense of genuine pique. Jon couldn’t have made it more plain that the thought of kissing her held absolutely no appeal for him, she thought irrationally. Was she really so unattractive to him that…? She stopped abruptly, stunned by the train of her own thoughts. Of course Jon did not want to kiss her—her or anyone else…indeed that was the reason she had felt able to agree to marry him. So why…?

  It must be something to do with all the reunited couples and families freely embracing around them that had aroused that momentary and totally unnecessary fit of pique inside her. Feeling much better now that she had found a logical explanation for her irrational feelings, Sophy hurried to catch up with the others and led the way to where she had parked the car.

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT WAS GONE ten o’clock, the silence in the study as they both worked a companionable one and then Jon got up and walked over to the window, his back to her as he stared out into the garden. His hair had grown slightly while he was away, Sophy noticed absently and it looked better, even curling faintly into his nape.

  ‘Will you have to fly out to Nassau immediately?’ she asked him suddenly, uneasy with the silence she had found so relaxing only seconds before.

  He turned round and smiled mildly. ‘No, not straight away. Not until Sunday.’

  ‘So…’ All at once her throat was dry. ‘So you’ll still be here for the wedding, then?’ Fool, idiot, she derided herself mentally; without him there wouldn’t be a wedding and she had made him sound like one of the guests.

  ‘Oh, yes…I’ve made all the arrangements. Got the special licence organised through someone I know in Brussels.’

  ‘You’re not having second thoughts, then’

  Good heavens, what was the matter with her? What was she asking him for? She was behaving like a total fool.

  ‘No. Are you?’

  It was unusual for Jon to ask such a direct question and in such a crisp tone. She shook her head without looking at him, suddenly too restless to stay in her seat. She got up and paced a few steps.

  ‘There is one thing though.’ She tensed. ‘When we were discussing the…er…style of our marriage I neglected to mention one point.’

  ‘Yes?’ Her mouth felt frozen and stiff, so much so that it was difficult to shape the word.

  ‘We have discussed my reasons for our marriage, Sophy, but I don’t think we’ve fully discussed yours. I know you care deeply for the children,’ he went on before she could speak, ‘but—and please correct me if I am wrong—you could always have children of your own. No, please,’ he stopped her when she would have spoken. ‘You are, in addition, a very attractive woman.’ He saw her expression and his mouth twisted slightly. ‘I assure you, Sophy, that even my shortsightedness is not sufficient to blind me to that fact. A woman whom I am sure very many members of my sex would be only too pleased to marry. Men who would want to share with you a far more intimate relationship than the one I am offering.’

  It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed but she was.

  ‘I don’t want that kind of relationship,’ she managed to say thickly, turning away from him.

  ‘I see. This is, I presume, because of the romantic involvement you once had with someone else. You did tell me some such thing the first time we met,’ he reminded her.

  Her face flamed. She had had so much to drink that night she could not remember what she had told him, but it embarrassed her now to think that she had probably poured out to him all her maudlin misery over what had once been her love for Chris.

  ‘I take it there is no question of this, er…relationship—’

  ‘None at all,’ Sophy managed to interrupt huskily.

  ‘I see. Having suffered the pangs of love once and been hurt by it you have no wish to risk yourself with such an emotion again, is that it?’

  It wasn’t because she was frightened of loving that she was marrying him, Sophy reflected, but it was much simpler and easier to let him believe that than to tell him the truth.

  She lifted her head and looked at him, forcing a cool smile. ‘Yes, Jon, that is it. The relationship you are offering me, the chance to take over the role of mother to the children, is exa
ctly what I want.’

  ‘Very well…but I must tell you, Sophy, that, er…that there can be no question of me tolerating a sexual relationship which you might form outside our marriage.’

  ‘You mean you wouldn’t want me to take a lover?’

  ‘Yes, that is exactly what I mean.’

  It was getting dark and in the dusk she could barely see across the room.

  The aura that Jon projected when she was not able to see him clearly was unnervingly at odds with the man she knew him to be. Even his voice seemed to have changed, become slightly silky and somehow subtly menacing.

  ‘You have my word that there will be no question of that, Jon,’ she told him quietly and truthfully. Not wanting him to ask any more questions she gave a small shrug and added lightly, ‘Perhaps, like yourself, I am one of those humans whose sex drive is so low as to be almost nonexistent.’

  She thought for a moment he seemed to tense, as though about to say something and wondered uncertainly if she had perhaps hurt or offended him by being so frank. No man would enjoy hearing himself described as virtually sexless, she thought guiltily.

  ‘And this man…the one you loved, Sophy?’

  ‘He’s married now. It would never have worked. He didn’t…’ she swallowed and told what was in effect merely a half lie. ‘He didn’t care in the way that I did.’

  Suddenly and inexplicably she felt quite exhausted. ‘It’s been a long day, Jon,’ she told him quietly. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed.’

  She knew it would be a long time before Jon came upstairs and, although he smiled vaguely at her as she went out of the room, she sensed that his mind was already on other things.

  It had never occurred to her that he might question her motives in agreeing to marry him and was relieved that he had assumed that it was her non-existent love for Chris that had motivated her. It rather surprised her that he should remember her wine-induced confidences on the night of the party when they first met. She had been feeling particularly down at the time otherwise she would never have said a word.

  * * *

  ‘SO ARE YOU REALLY and truly married now?’

  Sophy nodded her head, and smiled at Alex. She was still quite amazed that Jon had managed to arrange the details without any hitch.

  She had also been a little surprised at his insistence on a religious ceremony but had said nothing. In all honesty she had to admit there had been something comforting and right about the familiar Church service that had soothed away a lot of her last minute doubts. Now it was too late. They were married, Jon looking exceedingly uncomfortable in a suit he must surely have had since he came down from university and so heavy that it was totally unsuitable for a hot July day, she thought exasperatedly.

  ‘I’m going to have to do something about your clothes,’ she told him wryly. ‘They’re atrocious.’

  ‘Are they?’ He stared vaguely at her, frowningly perplexed, and yet as he turned his head slightly to answer a question David had asked him, Sophy was sure she saw his mouth curl faintly in amusement. What had she said to amuse him? Nothing, surely?

  There was no question of a honeymoon of course. Jon was flying to Nassau in the morning and following the early morning wedding ceremony Sophy intended to spend the afternoon checking that everything was in order for his trip. ‘I’ll have to give my mother a ring and tell her the news,’ she murmured, blenching a little at the thought of that ordeal.

  ‘Er, no. I think it would be better if we drove over there now and I told her.’

  She stared at Jon unable to believe her ears. Jon was terrified of her mother.

  ‘Jon, there’s really no need,’ she began.

  ‘I think there’s every need.’ The cool firmness in his voice silenced her protests and even David and Alex stopped what they were doing to look at him. Probably because they were so unused to hearing their uncle speak in such decisive tones.

  ‘But you don’t have time. Your flight—’

  ‘Is all perfectly organised, thanks to my wife. And we have plenty of time. We’ll have a quick snack lunch and leave straight away. All of us.’

  And so it was that at three o’clock in the afternoon Sophy found herself drawing up outside her parents’ front door. Once she had stopped the car Jon clambered out, knocking his head as he did so. The front passenger seat of her car was far too small for him. It was easy to overlook how big a man he really was, Sophy reflected, watching him help the children out.

  ‘You’re going to need a larger car.’

  ‘Only when you’re travelling in it,’ Sophy told him wryly, leading the way through the garden to the back of her house, knowing that on such a lovely day her parents would be in the garden.

  They were, but they weren’t alone and Sophy came to an abrupt halt as the ring of her high-heeled sandals on the crazy paving path caused the tall blonde man lazing in a deckchair to turn his head and look at her.

  ‘Sophy…good heavens.’

  He hadn’t changed, Sophy thought, registering the lazy insolence in his voice, the mockery with which his glance slid over her body, as though reminding her that he knew how lacking in femininity it really was.

  ‘Sophy?’ Her mother suddenly appeared through the french windows, carrying a tray of tea things, her mouth rounding in astonishment. ‘You didn’t say you were coming over this afternoon.’ There was just a touch of reproof in her mother’s light voice, and Sophy suppressed a faint sigh. Her mother liked everything done by the book, arrangements properly made… She should have thought about that.

  ‘It’s my fault, I’m afraid, Mrs Marley.’

  For the first time since seeing Chris she became conscious of Jon standing beside her.

  ‘Your… Oh!’ There was no mistaking the displeasure in her mother’s voice and Sophy felt her guilt turn into quiet despair.

  ‘Where’s Father?’ she asked, scanning the garden.

  ‘He’s showing Felicity, my wife, the new rose arbour he’s building,’ Chris answered easily. ‘I rather think I shall have to watch my wife, Mrs Marley,’ he added charmingly to Sophy’s mother, ‘I do believe she’s falling rather hard for your husband.’

  Listening to her mother’s girlish trill of laughter, Sophy was overwhelmed by a familiar feeling of alienation. She didn’t fit in here in this neat overtidy garden…in this peaceful English family scene. Chris was more at home here than she was, she thought bitterly, and her mother more pleased by his company than she ever was by hers.

  ‘Nonsense, you foolish boy,’ she chided Chris. ‘Anyone can see that Felicity only has eyes for you. She’s so much in love with you.’

  She could almost see Chris preening himself under her mother’s flattery and suddenly Sophy felt the most acute dislike for him. She had fallen out of love with him a long time ago but this dislike was a new and gloriously freeing thing, giving her the courage to say calmly, ‘Mother, there’s something I—’

  ‘I think I should be the one to break our news to your parents, Sophy.’

  The deep and commanding tones of Jon’s voice broke through her own, silencing her. She blinked and turned round to study him, wondering at this sudden assumption of masculine authority, half expecting to see someone else standing behind her. But no, it was still Jon, looking thoroughly hot and uncomfortable in his baggy cords and thick woollen shirt, his glasses catching the sunlight and obscuring his eyes from her.

  Their voices had obviously carried down the garden, and Sophy watched her father walking towards them accompanied by Chris’s wife. She was every bit as pretty as her mother had said but Sophy felt no envy for her, only a certain wry sympathy. Unless he had changed dramatically, Chris did not have it in him to be loyal and loving to one woman, even one as lovely as this. Her pregnancy barely showed, her light summer dress showing off her summer tan.

&nbs
p; ‘Darling, let me introduce you to an old friend of mine.’ Irritatingly it was Chris who took charge of the proceedings, drawing his wife towards him.

  ‘Oh, not another old flame, darling….’ The fluttery voice was unexpectedly hard, and instantly Sophy revised her opinion. Chris’s wife was not the delicate little flower she looked. On the contrary, she was every bit as hard as Chris himself, she thought inwardly, taking the hand the other girl extended.

  ‘Heavens, aren’t you tall!’ Innocent blue eyes slid upwards over Sophy’s body. ‘You must be almost six foot.’

  ‘Five-ten actually.’ From somewhere Sophy managed to summon a cool smile. Six foot made her sound like a giantess—a freak almost.

  ‘And this,’ Chris was looking past Sophy now to Jon and the children. His mouth curled in a dazzling smile, laughter lighting his eyes as he looked at Jon. ‘You can only be Sophy’s boss!’ His glance swept derisively over Jon’s appearance, and Sophy could almost see him comparing it with his own. The immaculate white cotton jeans, the cotton knit jumper in blues and greens banded with white…the elegantly cool casualness of his appearance in comparison to Jon’s.

  Chris’s rudeness did not surprise her, but the blindingly fierce stab of mingled anger and protectiveness she felt, did. She reached out instinctively to take Jon’s hand in her own, unaware of the deeply gold glitter in her eyes as she said firmly, ‘And my husband. That’s what we came to tell you… Jon and I were married this morning.’

  ‘Married!’ Her mother looked shocked and disbelieving, and Sophy was furious with her when she cried out, ‘Oh, Sophy…no…how could you do this to us?’ her eyes dropping immediately to her daughter’s tautly flat stomach.