by Penny Jordan
'Not personally,' Tom told her. 'We're an old fashioned firm, Lindsay, and we don't handle divorce work, but I was able to recommend to Lucas an old friend of mine in London who specialises in marital law . . . But let's talk about pleasanter things,' he suggested. 'What are your plans for the future.'
Here was her chance to talk to him about her marriage to Jeremy, to tell him how difficult and contrary Lucas was being, and yet as she sat there watching motes of dust dance in the sunlight that shafted through the square paned windows, she
now knew that no matter what the future held she could not marry Jeremy. Admitting as much to herself lifted a great weight of guilt and uncertainty from her heart. No matter how suitable Jeremy might have been from her father's point of view, Lindsay knew that she could not marry him, or anyone like him. If she couldn't have Lucas, then she didn't want anyone. Half of her mocked her for her feelings and yet the other half applauded her. Better to settle for nothing than to marry a man whom in her heart of hearts she knew she did not love. Sooner or later she would begin to resent Jeremy because he was not Lucas ... and he would sense it and resent her. For years she had told herself that she owed it to her father to try and please him and yet suddenly she knew that for all that time she had been tryingto mould herself into a pattern that wasn't her. Jeremy was nice enough ... she enjoyed his company . . . but she didn't like his parents, and she didn't care either for their values—values which she would be expected to pass on to her own children. All her life she had tried to be what her father wanted, and now suddenly she knew that she had been wrong. She should have had the to stand up to him during his lifetime—to tell him that she could not live out his dreams for
him.
Watching the expressions chase one another across her face, Tom sighed inwardly. One could not practise his profession and not become something of a student of human nature. He loved Lindsay almost as though she were his own child, and on many occasions he had had to bite on his tongue to stop himself from criticising what her
father had done to her, albeit with the best motives in the world. He had truly sympathised with his old friend, sharing his grief at the loss of his young wife; resenting on his behalf the family which had cut themselves off from their only child when she chose to marry outside their social circle. But times changed, and it had been wrong of Charles to want to use Lindsay as he had.
'No plans,' Lindsay said at last, answering his question. 'I have a good job which I enjoy and that's enough for me at the moment.' She bit her lip and stared out of the window before saying softly. 'Tom ... would you think me very disloyal if I said that I'm not going to be able to do what daddy wanted me to?'
'You mean you're not going to be able to many a man your father would have approved of?'
'Something like that,' Lindsay admitted wryly. 'Oh, I did think I could. In fact I was all set to announce my engagement, but . . .'
'But you discovered you loved Lucas instead Tom supplied mildly for her.
Lindsay went white and then red, staring at him without being able to formulate a single word, until she managed to stammer. 'How . . . how did you know?'
'You forget how long I've known you Lindsay.' Tom told her gently. 'I guessed a long time how you felt about Lucas, but I think I'm right saying you've only just discovered yourself how you feel?'
'This weekend,' Lindsay admitted. 'I came to tell him I was planning to get engaged. We had the most awful row about it, and then Lucas became ill . . .'
'And you realised how you really feel about him?' Tom supplemented quietly. 'My dear girl what can I say? I've always thought your father was wrong to bring you up as he did—that's not to say I didn't sympathise with him. He adored your mother you know, and it angered and hurt him that she should die just when he was in a position to give her all the things she'd given up lor him.'
'Hut Mummy didn't care about that. She loved him for what he was.'
'I know that my dear, but grief does weird things to people. It made your father yearn to be revenged on those who, in his eyes, had helped to cause your mother's death by rejecting her. And I'm afraid he used you as an instrument of that revenge.'
'Partially my own fault. I wanted to please him so much ... I should have stood up to him more, told him . .. Lucas was the only person he would ever really listen to. In fact I used to think that Lucas was on my side, but after Daddy died. . . .
'He was in a very difficult position my dear. Try to remember that at the time he was struggling to your father's business empire going. When your father died the city panicked a little . . . there was talk of the company folding without your father there to run it. Of course Lucas has proved since then how admirably he was able to step into your father's shoes. Your father himself knew that. He had the highest regard for Lucas you know.
'Yes I do,' Lindsay acknowledged. 'In fact there were times in my early teens when I was almost jelous of Lucas. He seemed to get on so well with Daddy . . . to share things with him that I
couldn't. I often used to think that Daddy wished Lucas had been his son and not just his stepson.'
'Yes, I think possibly you're right, although that doesn't detract from the love your father had for you. You were always very special to him Lindsay, and he loved you very much.
'I think in Lucas he saw himself as a young man, but with the rough corners smoothed off. And Lucas cared very deeply for your father too ... as he does for you.'
'No.' Lindsay shook her head firmly. 'No . . . you're wrong there . .. Why he couldn't wait to try and marry me off once Daddy had died and then when he married Gwen . .. Well let's just say neither of them went out of their way to make me feel exactly welcome.'
Tom sighed a little at the bitterness in her voice. 'My dear, try to understand,' he appealed to her. 'Try to see it as an outsider might. You and Lucas were virtually living alone together. . . Oh I know! you're going to tell me that he is your stepbrother . . . but there was no blood tie ... no real relationship that Lucas could hold up to the world to stop it from gossiping, and people did gossip. There were plenty of people locally who were ready to suspect the worst of Lucas. After all, in their eyes at least, there was nothing to stop him from marrying you himself and thus safeguarding your father's wealth for his own use.'
'But I was barely seventeen . . . I . . .'
'And Lucas was a good deal older. Looking back it's difficult to know what alternative he had other than to marry and provide you chaperon, so to speak.'
'Gwen couldn't wait to get me out of the house.'
Lindsay laughed bitterly, 'she even accused me of wanting Lucas for myself.' A shadow crossed her faace. 'I used to think that she was wrong, but now . . One thing I do know now is that if I do ever marry it will be because I'm so much in love that I can't bear not to—not for any other reason.'
'Good, I'm very glad to hear of it. Don't ever think that you mustn't marry because your choice of husband might not have been your father's Lindsay. People change and adapt. Who's to say that your father's views would not have mellowed in time? I'm sure that at heart he would have wanted your happiness more than he wanted his own revenge. He would never really have wanted you to marry simply to please him, not after the happiness he had shared with your mother, and you must always remember that.'
'I will.' Lindsay stood up and kissed his cheek. 'Thanks for listening to me . . . but somehow I don't think I shall be marrying now.' She frowned a little. 'At least Lucas will be pleased to hear my engagement's off ... He wasn't at all keen on the idea. I don't know why. Time was when he couldn't wait to marry me off.'
'Perhaps you should try asking him,' Tom suggested mildly. 'People who ask questions have been known occasionally to get answers.'
Lindsay grimaced. 'Not this time. In fact the mood Lucas has been in with me these last few days, I should think he'd take great pleasure in not answering me. I can't understand why I should feel about him the way I do. It's not as if my love is ever likely to be returned. I never realised
how much he cared for Gwen ... I can't understand why she left him either . .
'Try not to worry so much,' Tom advised her. 'Things have a way of working out if you just let them.'
'The mills of God?' Lindsay murmured wryly. 'Perhaps you're right. After all I haven't exactly had a roaring success doing things my way.'
After she had left the solicitor's office Lindsay went into the hairdressers she used to patronise when she lived at home. The girl who owned the salon remembered her, and assured her that they were able to fit her in.
'I've always envied you being a natural blonde,' she confided to Lindsay when she had been shampooed and was seated in front of a mirror, is it for a special occasion or just a pick-me-up?'
'I'm going out to dinner tonight,' Lindsay told her, 'Nothing too fancy though.'
'Umm, very nice. Where are you going? Anywhere local?'
They chatted easily while she worked on Lindsay's hair, and sitting in the familiar surroundings Lindsay succumbed to a wave of nostalgia. How she had hated London when she first moved there. She had ached to run back home, but her pride would not let her. Even then she must have known she loved Lucas, but she had hidden the truth from herself, too proud and frightened to admit it. Jeremy wasn't going to be pleased when she gave him the news that their engagement was off. She sighed faintly. What was wrong with her. Why couldn't she be like countless hundreds of other women and settle quite for second best? She didn't know the answer to her own question, only that she was sure that for her it would not work out. Her body and her heart would always ache for Lucas, and she would never be able to make anyone else an even halfway satisfactory wife while that was the case.
She got back to the house ten minutes or so before Lucas and Don returned. She witnessed their arrival from her bedroom window, for some reason stepping back automatically as Lucas chanced to glance upwards. He couldn't have been looking for her and therefore it was ridiculous to feel her heart pounding in this quite adolescent way. He still looked grimly angry and she thought wryly that the evening ahead did not promise to be a particularly pleasant one.
She went downstairs to join the two men, producing tea and scones for Don who told her that he was thinking of importing the tradition of English four o'clock tea into his own life-style.
'In fact, if she wasn't already your wife, I'd be trying to persuade this lovely lady to come back with me,' he told Lucas. 'She is very definitely one of a kind.'
'That she is,' Lindsay heard Lucas mutter, and she had to stop herself from crying out in pain at the bitterness in his voice. If he couldn't love her, surely he could like her instead of treating her with this bitter hostility. What had she ever done to make him react to her like this unless it was simply she wasn't Gwen?
At six o'clock she excused herself to go upstairs changed. She had already decided what to wear, a simple black sheath of a dress in matt jersey, which she knew suited her. It was very plain with a round neck and long sleeves, but the fluid jersey clung to her body, embracing every curve; it was a dress that was sensual without being showily
sexy, and knowing that she looked good in it, lent her the confidence she so desperately needed.
She arrived downstairs on the dot of seven to find Lucas already in the drawing room, nursing a tumbler of amber liquid.
'Oh it's all right,' he told her with the savagery she was now coming to recognise. 'I don't intend to get drunk. I'll be driving for one thing.'
'And for another?' Lindsay prompted, aware of his hostility and determined not to be unnerved by it.
'Well let's just say a masochistic streak in me urges me to deny myself its anaesthetic properties in favour of suffering pain in the hope that the exercise might prove ultimately beneficial.'
Lindsay wasn't quite sure what he meant. Was it the pain of losing Gwen that he wanted to anaesthetise himself against? If so what good could forcing himself to endure it do?
She was saved from having to reply by Don's entrance. 'Say that's a real attractive gown you're wearing,' he complimented Lindsay sincerely, 'but not as attractive as the lady inside it. Your wife sure has good taste,' he told Lucas admiringly.
'She certainly does.'
She was so surprised by the warmth inLucas' voice that she turned to stare at him. 'After all she chose to marry me,' Lucas added with a brief smile. 'Proof positive that you're right.'
Both men laughed and Lindsay forced herself to join in. She was dreading the evening ahead, and already had the beginnings of a headache.
Coward, she condemned herself, grimly following the men out to the car.
The hotel Lucas had recommended to Don was
one Lindsay was not particularly familiar with. Her father had always preferred to eat at home, and on the rare occasions when dates had taken her out it had always been to more local and less exclusive places. She had dined in expensive restaurants in London of course—Jeremy liked to be seen in the right places. Jeremy! Guilt stabbed her. How furious he would be when she told him her decision, and who could blame him. After all lie had not rushed her, she had known when she agreed to marry him that she did not love him. But she had not known that she did love Lucas. And that was something she could never tell Jeremy. t The small, elegant dining room was half full when they were shown in. They had been given a table by the window, overlooking the gardens which were illuminated with Japanese flares.
'Very nice,' Don approved, as they sat down. 'I suppose this place was once a private house.'
While the two men were talking Lindsay looked round, tensing suddenly as she recognised the foursome sitting at a nearby table.
'Something wrong?'
She was surprised that Lucas had noticed her tension. She had thought she had herself well under control.
'No . . . no, everything's fine,' but even as she spoke her eyes were drawn once more to the quartet nearby. She had recognised them instantly. The older pair were neighbours of Jeremy's parents; the young man she didn't recognise, but the girl was their daughter, and Jeremy's mother had made little secret of the fact that Amelia Rhodes was everything she had always hoped for in a daughter-in-law. Amelia saw
her and gave her a distant little smile. Lindsay's heart sank. She and Amelia had never managed to get on. Lindsay was all too conscious of the fact that until she came along Amelia had considered Jeremy her property. A year or two younger than Lindsay, she tended to react like a spoilt little girl whenever she couldn't get her own way. Her parents were wealthy and part of the set in which Jeremy's parents moved. All in all marriage to Amelia was exactly what they had planned for their son. Until she came along . . . Whoever the young man with them was, it was obvious to Lindsay that Amelia wasn't paying him too much attention. After looking at and then dismissing Lindsay her eyes had remained fixed on Lucas' tall, broad shouldered frame, with a look in them that Lindsay had instantly recognised. She felt acutely sick with jealousy and nerves. How dare Amelia look at Lucas like that her emotions raged, even while she knew she was being ridiculous. What right did she have to feel jealous? None! None at all.
She gave her order to the waiter mechanically, trying to force some enthusiastic response to Don's conversation, but all the time her attention was really focused on Amelia Rhodes.
'You're looking like someone who's just discovered they've lost a fortune on the stock exchange,' Lucas told her tersely between courses while Don was chatting earnestly to their waiter 'What the hell's the matter.'
'Nothing . . .'
The word had barely left her lips when she saw Amelia swaying towards them on heels that were too high, and which were teamed with a dress that
was far too tight for her plumpish five-foot- nothing frame, Lindsay thought waspishly.
As she had known she would the other girl stopped by their table, avid blue eyes darting from Lindsay's pale face to Lucas' remote one.
'Lindsay darling, what a surprise,' she exclaimed with false sweetness, 'Aren't you going to introduce me?'
Stifling th
e cold feeling of doom spreading through her stomach Lindsay performed the introductions, trying to stem the wild tide of jealousy searing her as Lucas openly assessed Amelia's feminine curves. He was a free man and could do whatever he chose, she reminded herself Inn it didn't make the pain abate one little bit. Are you enjoying your stay here in our country Mr Carter,' Amelia cooed at Don. The girl was impossible Lindsay thought angrily. She couldn't resist flirting with any male,
'I sure am,' responded Don genially. 'Lucas here and his pretty wife have made me more than welcomc.'
'His wile?' Pencilled eyebrows shot upwards as Amelia stared at Lindsay. 'My dear, I had no idea. Poor Jeremy . . . When . . .' Amelia, your dinner is going cold.' Mrs Rhodes' frosty inclination of her head in Lindsay's direction recalled Amelia's attention to her waiting parents and boyfriend. With another openly inviting look at Lucas, she drifted back to her own table.
Even though she had gone, Lindsay couldn't recover her equilibrium. Her hands shook when she picked up her knife and fork and she laid themback down again, her appetite completely gone.
Dear God, why on earth did the Rhodes' have to be dining here of all places, and tonight?
Amelia would lose no time in telling her mother of her supposed marriage to Lucas, and Mrs Rhodes was bound to mention it to Jeremy's mother. Her body went cold as she thought through the complications that would then ensue. Tomorrow morning she would have to return to London and speak to Jeremy. Telling him that their engagement was off was not something she could do over the telephone.