The Determined Husband

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The Determined Husband Page 8

by Lee Wilkinson


  ‘When did it happen?’

  ‘Just after you left for England.’

  ‘I hadn’t appreciated it was quite that long ago,’ he said slowly. ‘So where did it happen? Tell me about it.’

  ‘Long Island. We were on our way to Pine Cove to join one of Martin’s weekend house parties—’

  ‘In the limousine?’

  ‘No, it was the chauffeur’s weekend off.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘The car ran off the road on a bend and hit a tree…’ Her voice faltered to a halt.

  ‘No other vehicle was involved?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Go on,’ he urged once more.

  ‘Both Martin and I were hurt.’

  ‘How badly?’

  ‘I had a fractured skull, a cracked collarbone and several broken ribs, one of which pierced a lung.’

  Keir’s skin seemed to tighten over his strong bones, making his face into a tanned mask. Almost curtly, he asked, ‘What about Rothwell?’

  She swallowed. ‘Martin’s injuries were a great deal worse. They were to his lower spine and pelvis…’

  Seeing the look on Keir’s face, she said quickly, ‘No, it’s not what you’re thinking,’ and heard his almost imperceptible sigh of relief.

  ‘He’s going to be all right in every way,’ she went on determinedly. ‘His doctors say that he should soon be almost fully recovered and on his feet again.’

  ‘How soon?’

  ‘They suggest late September.’

  ‘And then he wants you to marry him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And will you?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll marry him,’ she said steadily.

  ‘Not if I can prevent it.’

  ‘But you can’t.’ There was a kind of anguished finality in the words.

  Keir’s jaw tightened and, his dark blue eyes holding a look that seemed to pierce her very soul, he said, ‘Tell me the truth, Sera… Do you really love Rothwell? If the answer’s yes, I’ll fade quietly away and never bother you again.’

  For everyone’s sake she struggled to frame the lie.

  ‘The truth,’ Keir insisted quietly.

  ‘The truth is, as long as Martin still wants me, I can never leave him.’

  A look of relief mingled with an almost savage satisfaction on his handsome face, Keir exclaimed jubilantly, ‘Then, you don’t love him! I couldn’t believe you did, but I had to be sure.’

  ‘I’m fond of him,’ she said quietly. And, in an odd kind of way, it was true. Though he could be ruthless and vindictive, mean and tyrannical, he could also be kind and caring, generous and easygoing.

  He had so many good points, so much about him that was likeable. If only he’d been more rational, not so obsessed with her, there might have been some way out of this mess. How many men really wanted a reluctant wife?

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought mere fondness was enough to make you marry him,’ Keir remarked. ‘And you keep assuring me it has nothing to do with money.’

  ‘It hasn’t.’

  ‘Then, why do you stay with him?’

  Wishing she’d kept silent and let him think it was to do with money, she bit her lip.

  Watching her face, he hazarded, ‘Is it because you feel trapped?’

  Seeing clearly what he was getting at, she took a deep breath and said, with what conviction she could muster, ‘Of course it isn’t.’

  It was a lie.

  Almost from the moment she had let Martin slip the ring on her finger—or, at least, after the effects of too much champagne had worn off—Sera had had serious doubts.

  But feeling she was committed, and unwilling to hurt him, she’d tried to tell herself that most brides-to-be must have some doubts, and had done her best to stifle them.

  It was after Keir had gone back to England, and with the wedding only a couple of weeks away, that she faced the truth and admitted to herself that she had made a terrible mistake.

  And with that knowledge was an affirmation of the simple fact that, though he might not want her, it was Keir she loved, and always would love.

  For Martin she felt only gratitude and affection. Not enough for a lifetime together. If she went ahead and married him, with so little real feeling, she would be short-changing them both.

  She had made several attempts to tell Martin how she felt, but he had refused to listen, saying any doubts she felt could be put down to pre-wedding nerves…

  The weekend they were due to go to Pine Cove, however, she had set out with the firm intention of ending their engagement and giving him back his ring.

  If she’d managed to do it before the accident, things might have been different. But she hadn’t…

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Keir said calmly. ‘I think you’re marrying him because you feel you can’t abandon him now he’s crippled.’

  ‘He’s not crippled,’ she flashed. ‘At the worst, he’ll have a slight limp.’

  ‘Exactly. So why sacrifice yourself?’

  He was getting much too close to the truth.

  ‘What makes you think marrying a rich man will prove to be a sacrifice?’

  The blue eyes glinted between their sooty lashes, ‘So it comes down to money after all?’

  ‘Isn’t that what you’ve always thought?’

  ‘Amongst other things. I once thought you loved me. Foolish of me, but there it is. I couldn’t believe you’d give yourself to a man you didn’t love… But perhaps it was simply sexual attraction?’ Suddenly he was on his feet, bending over her, one hand on either arm of the lounger. ‘Whatever it was, it’s still there. I discovered that when I kissed you.’

  As she began to shake her head in denial, his eyes on her mouth, he suggested, ‘If you’d like me to prove it?’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t.’ There was no mistaking her absolute panic. ‘I’d like to go now. Please, Keir… It’s getting late and Martin will be worried to death if he finds I’m missing.’

  Straightening up, Keir asked slowly, ‘Then, he doesn’t know about these morning outings?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I—I didn’t think he’d approve.’ Then, sharply, she said, ‘You used the term “morning outings”… What makes you think this morning wasn’t a one-off?’

  Keir smiled crookedly. ‘I often have a word with the night security guard… Bill, I think his name is… He takes quite a fatherly interest in you.’

  ‘So when we bumped into each other, it wasn’t just a chance meeting,’ she said accusingly. ‘You knew I went to the Park every morning, and you knew the route I took. You were lying in wait for me.’

  ‘I’m not sure I like the term “lying in wait”,’ he objected mildly.

  ‘Whether you like it or not, that’s what you were doing,’ she said hotly. ‘How long have you been watching me?’

  ‘Since I moved in here,’ he admitted, adding, with more than a touch of self-derision, ‘For quite a number of reasons, it took me a little while to unearth what I needed to know and work out my plan of campaign.’

  In spite of the almost flippant way he spoke, Sera felt sure he was deadly serious.

  But what could he do? He’d been the first to acknowledge that Martin had an almost insurmountable advantage, and if he’d known the full facts he would have omitted the word ‘almost’…

  Somewhere close at hand a clock began to chime the hour. Jumping to her feet, she cried in agitation, ‘It’s eight o’clock. I must go. Martin likes to start work by eight-thirty.’

  ‘How long has he been able to work?’

  ‘He began doing a little about four months ago.’

  ‘Does he work most days?’

  ‘Most mornings, for a few hours. Unless he’s having a bad day.’

  ‘And you work as his PA?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Sera answered Keir’s questions because it seemed quicker, but she had a feeling that he already knew the answers and was simply ticking them of
f in some mental book.

  ‘Then, I mustn’t detain you any longer,’ he said smoothly.

  Hardly daring to believe he was letting her go, she hurried to the door. Though Keir only seemed to stroll, he reached it first and opened it for her.

  As she hurried out without a backward glance, he said, ‘See you in the Park tomorrow morning.’

  The elevator didn’t come immediately and, aware that he was standing in the doorway watching her, she made an effort to hide her agitation.

  ‘As you’re in such a hurry, it might be quicker to use the stairs,’ he suggested.

  Biting her lip, she followed his mocking advice and, after hurrying down one flight, let herself into Martin’s air-conditioned apartment as quietly as possible.

  If he’d slept late, as he occasionally did, he might not have missed her and if she could only get out of this track-suit and shower…

  She was halfway across the hall when the living-room door slid open and Martin appeared in his wheelchair. He was already shaved and dressed and, with a sinking heart, she saw that his heavy face was livid with fear and anger.

  With a sudden insight, she knew he’d been afraid that she might have gone for good.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he demanded.

  ‘Walking in the Park.’ Only too aware that she’d sounded guilty, she added, ‘I needed some exercise.’

  ‘When you weren’t in your room, I couldn’t imagine where you’d got to. Why didn’t you tell me you were going out?’

  ‘I thought you’d be asleep.’

  His pale eyes taking in her track suit and trainers, he said, ‘This isn’t the first time, is it?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted.

  ‘How long have you been sneaking out like this?’

  Flushing a little, she said, ‘I’ve been going out on fine mornings for about seven or eight weeks.’

  ‘If I’d known you intended to start exercising at the crack of dawn, I might have come with you. The fresh air would have done me good.’

  She knew perfectly well that Martin had never cared either for fresh air or any form of exercise, apart from swimming.

  He tended to be an indoors man, with a preference for cars and air-conditioning, and, if he hadn’t expended so much energy when it came to business and socializing, he would have run to fat.

  ‘Why don’t you come in future?’ she suggested evenly.

  ‘A jogger and a man in a wheelchair? That should be good for a laugh!’ he said savagely.

  Wincing, she begged, ‘Please, Martin, don’t—’

  He cut through her words ruthlessly. ‘Until you’ve been confined like this, you can’t begin to know what it’s like.’

  ‘But you’ll soon be on your feet again.’

  ‘And then I’ll be able to go for a morning limp around the Park. That’s really something to look forward to!’

  ‘I wish you weren’t so bitter,’ she whispered.

  ‘What else do you expect me to be when I’m tied here and you sneak off and leave me without a word?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I—’

  ‘But I’m damned if you’ll go off and leave me again.’ It was part bluster, part plea.

  ‘No, I won’t go again if you don’t want me to,’ she promised. Then, remembering Keir’s, ‘See you in the Park tomorrow morning’, she felt a sudden, sharp regret.

  It was followed almost instantly by relief. Now Martin had laid it on the line, she couldn’t give way to the temptation to go…

  ‘So there you are, back safe and sound.’ Kathleen emerged from the living-room looking pretty and trim in her blue and white uniform. Her short curly hair was as black as Sera’s, her eyes the colour of wet violets.

  Above Martin’s sandy-gold head the eyes of the two women met in perfect understanding.

  ‘I told Himself he was getting in a tizzy over nothing,’ she added in the soft Irish brogue that she often laid on for effect. ‘But will he ever listen?’

  Though only about the same age as Martin, Kathleen treated her charge as though he was a slightly unruly small boy, telling him off in no uncertain terms when he didn’t follow his doctors’ orders, ignoring his bursts of temper, soothing his fears and his pain with an almost maternal tenderness…

  His first nurse, unable to cope, had left in tears after only a few days. The second had lasted a week before walking out.

  Kathleen, with her quiet competence, her sunny nature and unfailing sense of humour, had proved to be a godsend.

  When, in the early days, he’d been unable to sleep because of the pain and had wanted Sera, Kathleen had said firmly that Sera wasn’t in a fit state to cope, and had packed the younger girl off to bed and sat up with him herself. She still did occasionally, when he had a problem or felt restless.

  Though Martin complained that she was bossy, and grumbled when she beat him at cards or checkers, he’d come to rely on her, and Sera didn’t dare contemplate the time when, her job finally done, Kathleen would leave.

  ‘Now, I dare say you’ll be wanting to shower and change and grab a bite of breakfast?’ Kathleen suggested to Sera.

  As Sera nodded, Kathleen turned to Martin. ‘In that case, perhaps you can spare a little time to discuss the new therapy Dr Neilson suggested?’

  ‘So long as it doesn’t take too long,’ he said grudgingly.

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ Sera assured him. ‘And I’m happy to skip breakfast if you’re in a hurry to start work?’

  ‘I won’t be doing any work today.’ His announcement surprised both the women. ‘As soon as everyone’s ready I’d like to set off for Pine Cove.’

  ‘But I thought we weren’t going until tomorrow?’ Sera said.

  ‘I’ve decided Kathleen was right…’

  Widening her eyes, Kathleen exclaimed, ‘Sure and be-jabers, but aren’t I always?’

  Giving her a glance which was intended to be repressive but ended up tolerant, Martin went on, ‘She suggested we should go to Pine Cove a day early. Her idea was to give me plenty of time to rest before the party, but it makes sense for another reason. On a Friday, at this time of year, when half of New York is trying to get out of town for the weekend, the traffic on the Long Island Expressway can be bumper to bumper.

  ‘Bearing that in mind, I’ve asked Carlson to bring the car around for ten-thirty this morning.’

  ‘If that’s so,’ Kathleen said crisply, ‘then I’ve a million things to do.’ With a touch of asperity, she added, ‘Why is it men never make up their minds until the last minute?’

  Martin’s grin eased away the lines of pain from his face and made him look suddenly boyish. ‘It’s to keep women on their toes.’

  ‘Huh!’ Kathleen gave a mock indignant toss of her black curls.

  His expression one of amusement, he went on, ‘You’re entitled to a night off, so make sure you pack something pretty for the party.’

  ‘If I have time.’

  ‘Women can always find time for things like that,’ Martin said provokingly.

  ‘Only when they’re not looking after men.’

  Satisfied she’d had the last word, Kathleen manoeuvred the wheelchair back into the living-room while Sera hurried off to shower and change.

  As the hot water cascaded over her and steam misted the frosted glass of the shower cubicle, she tried not to think of Keir and of everything she had learnt that morning.

  It was all in the past, over and done with. Even he couldn’t change things. All she could hope was that, before Martin discovered he was back, Keir would realize how useless it was and go quietly away and leave them in peace.

  In peace… How funny. How terribly funny. Her laugh was more like a sob.

  Though what they had at the moment was peace compared to what it had been. Both Martin’s sniping and his violent fits of rage had eased considerably of late and that, Sera knew quite well, was mainly because of Kathleen.

  But if he found out that his old rival was back on the scene, even she
might find it impossible to keep things on an even keel.

  And there seemed little chance of his not finding out…

  Despite the hot steamy air, Sera shivered. Common sense told her that any hope of Keir going quietly away was almost certainly a vain hope.

  He wasn’t the kind of man to give up without a struggle. As well as being a brilliant strategist, he was tough and determined. The bigger the odds against him, the harder he’d fight.

  Only, though he didn’t know it, circumstances had made these odds insurmountable.

  If the accident had never happened…

  But it had…

  Towelling herself dry, Sera wondered yet again if this trip to Long Island was wise. Would it bring everything back too vividly?

  As she’d lain unconscious she had no memory of the accident, but Martin had been trapped in the car, fully conscious and in terrible pain, for more than an hour.

  It would be the first time they had travelled that stretch of road since the accident; the first time he had allowed friends and colleagues to see him in the wheelchair he detested so much.

  But, please God, everything would work out…

  ‘Think of it as a form of therapy,’ Kathleen had said when Sera had mentioned her fears. ‘Once he’s been over the road where the accident took place, and once he’s realized that being in a wheelchair doesn’t make him any less of a man, we’ll have routed a couple of bogeys, and be getting somewhere.’

  Having great faith in Kathleen’s experience, her calm, down-to-earth practicality, Sera had tried to stifle her fears. But now, completely thrown by the trauma of the morning, and with the trip about to get underway, they had returned in full force.

  By the Saturday evening, realizing her fears had proved groundless, Sera gave thanks.

  Earlier in the day there had been one or two tense moments when Martin’s house guests had begun to arrive. But apparently pre-warned by Cheryl, no one had offered any undue sympathy or treated him in any way differently, so things had passed off without any harm being done.

  Most of the guests were now here, apart from an old college friend who’d called to say he’d been delayed, and Cheryl and her husband who, with a cottage of their own in the Hamptons, were only coming for the actual party.

 

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