Reluctant Wife Page 8

  ‘I … I’ll go home today,’ said Roz uncomfortably. ‘I’m sorry and I … I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.’

  Mrs Howard pursed her lips, then motioned her to sit down and poured her a cup of tea. ‘Sorry is as sorry does, Roz, but I’m very angry, and I can’t deny that. Not with you, though.’

  ‘Who?’ Roz whispered.

  ‘Men.’

  ‘Mike?’

  ‘Mike’s not a man.’ Mrs Howard put the teapot down with a snap. ‘He’s a boy and he happens to be my only child, and I can’t believe his father—I just can’t believe him! To make such a fuss, such a dreadful issue of all this. I …I’m really so angry I don’t know what to do!’

  ‘Mrs Howard——’ Roz began tremulously, but was interrupted.

  ‘As if … as if it’s not perfectly natural for a nineteen-year-old boy to think the love of his life has come upon him—why not try to ride it out? Why go through this hell …’ She stopped and sighed. ‘Sorry, Roz. I suppose you think the love of your life has come upon you, but …’

  She shrugged.

  ‘Mrs Howard,’ Roz began after a moment, then hesitated painfully.

  ‘Go on.’

  Roz twisted her hands. ‘I can understand—well, that you think we’re too young. But he said I’m not the right one for Mike and never will be. Is it because he’s afraid I’ll be like my grandfather? Have some sort of a character flaw, like Grandad’s gambling?’

  Mrs Howard stared at her, then said wearily. ‘My dear child, no. That’s ridiculous, because we know you so well and you’re so sane and sweet and a good girl, you really are. But …’ She broke off.

  ‘Please tell me,’ Roz whispered.

  Mrs Howard turned away and stared out of the window. ‘It’s … she turned back. ‘It is something about you. Something that men find——well, let’s say it wreaks havoc with their peace of mind. It’s a sort of reserve and maturity together with your looks, your lovely body. It’s … not going to be easy for you, Roz, nor perhaps for the man you marry. That’s what Mike’s dad is afraid of. You see, he’s not—entirely unmoved by it himself.’

  Roz’s lips parted.

  Mrs Howard watched her carefully. ‘Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Roz?’ she said after a moment.

  ‘No … oh!’ Roz’s eyes widened with shock and she went pale.

  ‘I see that you do,’ Mrs Howard said quietly.

  ‘But I had no idea! I—oh, please believe me, I …’

  ‘Roz, Roz,’ Mrs Howard said gently, ‘don’t upset yourself. Of course you had no idea. I don’t want you thinking Mr Howard is something of a monster either. It only proves that he’s a very human, middle-aged man—and sometimes it’s a relief to know he is human,’ she added with a grimace.

  ‘But …’

  ‘Unfortunately,’ Mrs Howard continued, ‘it’s been very difficult for him to cope with this, as you can imagine, perhaps. He has a very strong moral streak and likes to take pride in his integrity. What,’ she paused thoughtfully, ‘never ceases to amaze me is how often people like that fall into a terrible trap. On top of which,’ she said drily, ‘men don’t need much encouragement to shift the blame when it comes to women anyway, I’ve found.’

  Roz stared at her. ‘I don’t understand,’ she whispered.

  ‘He blames you, Roz.’

  ‘You mean …’ Roz’s mouth fell open and her eyes were wide with disbelief and then appalled. ‘But I’ve never …’

  ‘I know that, Roz.’

  ‘I feel terrible. I feel … do you really mean he thinks I … encourage men to … to …’ Roz stopped and licked her lips. ‘Has he told you this?’

  ‘Not in so many words, but I can read him like a book,’ Mrs Howard said sadly. ‘Nor did the fact that Adam Milroy spent the night, or what that other man threatened you with, help.’

  ‘He didn’t spend the night with me!’ cried Roz.

  ‘Sorry,’ Mrs Howard closed her eyes briefly. ‘Roz, how can I explain it better‘? It’s … like a defence mechanism Mr Howard is using against you—you can understand that? Oh, Roz, I’m sorry I ever had to tell you this, but circumstances have conspired against us and,’ she sighed and looked considerably older suddenly, ‘while I can’t help but feel indignant about the way men treat us sometimes I … at the moment I’m facing the prospect of a very real rift developing in this family.’ She stared at Roz helplessly.

  ‘What can we do?’ Roz whispered after an age. ‘I—I don’t seem to be able to think too clearly. I mean, of course I’ll go home, but Mike … and …’ She blinked away some tears, her face white and distraught.

  Mrs Howard stared at the tea pot, then visibly gathered herself. ‘l’ll think of something,’ she said but with only a shadow of her normal decisive air. ‘Why don’t you have some breakfast and then change into something smarter—don’t forget Adam Milroy is coming to see you this moming. I must say I’m very curious about that, aren’t you?’

  Roz stared.

  ‘Had you forgotten?’ Mrs Howard asked gently.

  ‘I … yes. But I don’t feel hungry,’ Roz said distractedly.

  Mrs Howard took a dim view of that, however, and chivvied her into having toast and tea at least, then sent her off to get changed, but appeared moments later to help her choose her clothes. They settled, at least Mrs Howard settled, on a blue blouse that matched Roz’s eyes and a full white cotton skirt. Then she suggested that Roz put her hair up and helped her to do it, remarking that it made her look very chic.

  Later, over the next days and months, Roz was to wonder if Mrs Howard had had any inkling of what was on Adam’s mind or any idea of what her revelations would do to Roz’s state of mind, and seen a solution to their problems. But on the whole she rejected this thought. The years over which Mike’s mother had treated her almost as a daughter made it difficult to believe … No, it had all been a coincidence, she decided each time.

  But as she stared at herself in the mirror that morning it was the furthest thought from her mind. Because what she saw was a stranger, a girl she didn’t seem to recognise, quite tall and slim about the waist, a girl men saw as a seductress and worse. A girl with a cloud of guilt and shame upon her mind and blue eyes that seemed to have gone beyond shock—something she was shortly to disprove.

  ‘Why don’t you take Mr Milroy down to see the foal, Roz?’

  ‘He’s seen her—’

  ‘It would be no penance to see her again,’ Adam Milroy said with a smile. ‘It’s also a lovely day.’ He was casually dressed in khaki twill trousers, rather dusty leather boots and a plain white shirt open at the throat.

  But Roz was having trouble concentrating on anything but trivia—such as why Mrs Howard should suggest she should change out of her jeans, only then to suggest she go for a hike across a paddock to find Nimmitabel and the old mare.

  And not long out of the house her overburdened mind grasped some more trivia. It was a nice day, with the sky blue and clear and the hailstorm only a memory now. There was a gentle breeze stirring the peppercorns around the shed—and she rather wished she was dead.

  She stopped walking abruptly out of sight of the house and said jerkily. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go any further. C-could you tell me what you wanted to see me about now?’

  Adam stopped beside her and looked down at her with a frown between his eyes. ‘What’s happened? Has Stan Hawkins …’

  ‘No! I haven’t seen him again.’

  ‘Then something’s gone wrong here.’

  Roz looked up at him in agitation. ‘Please, if you could just …’ But she couldn’t go on.

  They’d come to a fence, one of Mr Howard’s neat, white painted fences, and Adam leant one elbow on the top rail and propped a dusty boot on the bottom one. Then he looked at her directly and said, ‘All right, I’ve come to suggest that you and I get married, Roz.’

  For a heart-stopping moment Roz thought the world had stopped and sent her spinning into s
pace. What actually happened was that she stepped backwards in her utter amazement, tripped on a stone and all but fell before he caught her in his arms.

  Then she realised he was laughing and she tried to twist herself free but couldn’t, so she glared up at him and spluttered, ‘If you think it’s funny to make jokes about something like that, I don’t!’

  ‘Oh, I wasn’t joking,’ he drawled, but with his dark eyes still glinting with amusement. ‘Nor was I laughing at you so much as myself. Well,’ he added with a shrug, ‘something like that.’

  She stared up at him and could feel her heart beating wildly with shock; she didn’t seem capable of leaving the protection of his arms. ‘But it doesn’t make sense! Why would you want to marry m-me?’ she stammered. ‘Especially if you find it so amusing, whatever the reason.’

  ‘Roz,’ he searched her troubled, totally bewildered face, drew her closer briefly, then let her go but took her hand and looked around, ‘there’s a bench over there. Come and sit down and discuss this with me.’

  The bench was beneath an old willow tree and in some places the green leafy fronds nearly touched the ground, so it was a cool private spot. He kept hold of her hand as they sat down on the bench and stretched his free arm along the back of it.

  ‘First of all,’ he said presently, ‘what I found amusing was that since I’ve made a lot of money I’ve had rather a lot of women … indicate to me that they’d be very happy for me to pop the question. Whereas you nearly fell down with shock. I found it refreshing and, I guess, ironic.’

  ‘It shouldn’t be ironic,’ Roz said quietly. ‘We barely know each other. It would be ironic if among all those women who’ve wanted to marry you, you found someone you desperately wanted but couldn’t have.’

  He smiled faintly. ‘Point taken, my wise young friend.’

  ‘I wasn’t trying to be nasty or clever,’ she said quickly.

  Adam threaded his fingers through hers in silence. Then he said, ‘I know. Another plus in your favour, Roz, but the fact remains I did find it so, even if all for the wrong reasons.’

  She stirred restlessly, but her hand stayed in his. She said urgently. ‘That’s still no reason to want to marry me. Should … shouldn’t people fall in love to want to marry?’ She waited, then said anxiously, ‘Don’t you believe in love?’

  ‘I believe,’ he said meditatively, ‘that a lot of people get married because they think they’ve fallen in love and then find it’s not so. I believe it’s very hard to differentiate between a physical attraction and that elusive thing they call love. I know that marriage is a dicey proposition at the best of times and that a cool, sane, level-headed approach could have a lot to recommend it.’

  Roz shivered. ‘I think that means you don’t believe in love,’ she whispered. ‘And perhaps being so very rich hasn’t helped, but I don’t think it’s a—well, a very good way to be.’

  He released her hand and sat forward. ‘Roz,’ he said levelly, ‘when I was twenty I fell madly in love with a beautiful girl called Louise. We got married. Twelve months later we got divorced and she remarried an older, very rich man. It was possibly the best thing that could have happened. We … thought we loved each other passionately, but in fact we just couldn’t live together. I,’ he paused, ‘wasn’t in the position then to give her much; she wasn’t the kind of girl you could bury in a welter of overwork and all sorts of petty economies. She …’ He stopped and stared through the willow fronds. ‘Yes, I am cynical about love,’ he said eventually. ‘It wouldn’t be fair to tell you any otherwise. Not, though, because I still fancy I’m in love with Louise. But because of it and what’s happened since. I think it might be a will-o’-the-wisp that people pursue endlessly and don’t understand is only a fickle sort of thing, whereas an honest commitment of a practical nature … serves one better.’

  Roz opened her mouth, then shut it.

  ‘For example,’ Adam went on, ‘and I apologise for being rather brutally honest on both counts—what I’ve said and what I’m about to say—Michael Howard is not for you, Roz. He’s a kid, a nice kid probably, and I can’t quarrel with his taste, but he’s …’ he shrugged, ‘like I was. Dazzled.’

  ‘No,’ she breathed, ‘don’t say that!’

  He turned to her with suddenly narrowed eyes. ‘Has he had any other girlfriends?’

  ‘No—well, no, but …’ She managed to get her hand free.

  ‘So you’re the first for him and he’s the first for you?’

  ‘I … yes, but … you sound just like his father,’ Roz said bitterly.

  He took her hand again. ‘If I were his father I’d be very concerned,’ he said, and added, ‘also. Even though it was such a brief meeting yesterday, Roz, I could see the tensions barely beneath the surface.’

  She turned her face to his. ‘What tensions?’

  ‘A father contemplating his son rushing into a marriage with his childhood sweetheart because circumstances have made her so vulnerable. A St George and the Dragon kind of situation, which is notoriously appealing to young men who are often more romantic at heart than they get credit for.’

  Roz blinked and stilled at the echo his words evoked in her mind because, after all, hadn’t she wondered the same thing?

  ‘Was that all you saw?’ she queried huskily after a moment.

  Adam shrugged. ‘His mother was valiantly trying to make the best of it, but I think that even fond as she is of you, she has her doubts too.’

  ‘Everyone,’ Roz said slowly, ‘is more concerned that Mike’s too young. I mean, you can’t believe I’m too young to be married or you wouldn’t be asking me, would you?’

  He was silent.

  ‘And the other thing is, we barely know each other!’

  He smiled. ‘Sometimes it’s how you’ve got to know someone, not how long you’ve known them, that counts. I feel I know you rather well, as a matter of fact. I thought the same might have happened for you, but perhaps the last thing on earth you could imagine is us… being married?’

  Roz closed her eyes and tried to banish all her girlish fancies which chose to rise up and taunt her then most treacherously. And she had to think that if it wasn’t all so impossible it was like a dream coming true—would have been, she amended, years ago. And she couldn’t help the shaky laugh that rose to her lips, although she bit it off.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Adam asked. ‘Yes or no? If you find me in the same league as Dracula, I’ll go away now.’

  ‘No, no, it’s not that,’ she said agitatedly. ‘I … I don’t know what to say. I’m …’ She got up and away a few paces, then turned to him. ‘Thank you, because I think you mean well, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘Roz,’ he said abruptly, ‘let me tell you what could be achieved if we got married. You’d have no problems with your grandfather’s debts. You’d be able to keep ‘Nimmitabel…’

  ‘No!’ she broke in incredulously. ‘Is that what all this is about?’

  ‘You could say, in part,’ he replied drily, but there was a mocking look in his dark eyes as he added, ‘But I can always get her when she comes up for sale. Being very rich does have its, advantages.’

  He waited and watched, and Roz wondered why she should feel guilty about what she’d said.

  Adam went on when she could only stare at him confusedly, ‘There’d be other advantages for you: you’d have security and a home—you mentioned that you’d like to have lots of children, and so, I find now, would I. Some, anyway!’ He grinned, then sobered. ‘And you’d also have a husband with your best interests at heart, and that I give you my word on, Roz. I may be an elderly cynic, but my word has always been my bond.’

  ‘I… ‘she began helplessly.

  ‘So far as the horse goes,’ he said, ‘I can’t deny my interest in her, what I’d like best is for you to be able to keep her. Perhaps’ he shrugged. ‘I’m superstitious, but the two of you seem to go together—and before I live to regret saying that, if I didn’t find
you … desirable l wouldn’t be asking you to marry me if you came with six Nimmitabels.’

  Roz blushed vividly.

  ‘Perhaps you don’t realise how lovely you are, Roz,’ Adam told her quietly. ‘Or how much I’d be gaining. A wife, admittedly young but with, I think, the intelligence and wisdom and grace to allow it to work. Someone I respect enough to want to have as the mother of my children—and before you ask me how I can know that I think its probably because I’ve met you and known you when the chips are really down for you. That’s generally a good test of character, and you, my dear, have come through with flying colours in my estimation.’

  Roz opened her mouth, then closed it again. For the life of her she couldn’t stop herself from thinking of the alternatives, of the damage she had so unwittingly wrought among the Howards, of Mrs Howard’s pale, grim face and how she had been so kind over the years. Of Mike and how, until now, he had always got along so well with his father, of the curious fact that while she knew she was quite innocent she couldn’t help feeling tainted by Mrs Howard’s revelations.

  ‘I…’ She stopped and bit her lip, glancing at Adam to see that he watching her almost idly. As if he’d stated his case and was prepared for the outcome to go either way. And she thought suddenly how clean-cut and safe it sounded, with none of the dark secrets and pitfalls that apparently existed between men and women, as she had discovered this morning and found so shameful and frightening…

  She thought of having to part with the foal, her home, she thought of Mike again and finally of Adam Milroy himself who had told her he respected her—also desired her, yes, she mused, but not in a way that made her feel degraded.

  ‘I…’ She looked up at last and he was still watching her carefully. ‘All right. Yes. Thank you every much.’

  Adam, said nothing, just held out his hand to her and she hesitated, then went back to the bench and sat down beside him. He put his arm around her shoulders because she’d started to shake and, was horrified to find tears rolling down her cheeks that she couldn’t control.