Second Chance with the Millionaire(23)

There was a strange expression in his eyes for a moment.

'Did you think I'd gone for ever as well, Lucy?' he asked her, his voice oddly husky.

She turned her head away, unable to bear looking at him any longer. If  she did, she was bound to betray her pain, to cry out to him that,  despite everything that had happened, she had somehow clung to the hope  that he had genuinely cared about her, and that, once his anger had  cooled, he would regret their quarrel as much as she had herself.

'I didn't really give it much thought,' she said coolly, punishing herself with her denial of her love.

'No, I suppose you were too busy telling Summers why his little plan  wasn't going to come off,' he said harshly. 'By the way,' he added as he  walked over to the door, 'I've decided to keep this place after all-my  mother says she'd like to come back and see it. She did grow up here  when all's said and done, and now that I'm to be a father-who knows,  maybe my son or daughter might inherit your father's obsession with the  place. Think about it, Lucy,' he said softly from the door. 'Think about  all you'll be denying our child, simply for the pleasure of getting at  me. Are you really that selfish?'                       
       
           



       

It was a low blow, and one it took her several seconds to assimilate.  Had he really been offering to keep the Manor as a form of bribery, or  had she simply allowed her fevered imagination to run away with her?

Marriage to Saul! Once she would have asked nothing more from life, but  how could she marry him knowing that he didn't love her; that he was  simply marrying her because they had conceived a child?

'You can't want to marry me.'

She said it so quietly, she thought he couldn't have heard, but he must  have done, because he turned in the doorway and said softly, 'Can't I?  Maybe not. But I promise you I'll do anything, and everything, that's  necessary to keep my child away from Summers' influence.'

As he left her his words sank into her mind, leaving her shaken and  trembling from head to foot. She was only just beginning to realise how  deep the vein of antipathy between the two men ran. As a child she had  known it was there, of course, but now as an adult she saw that the  schism was much greater than she had perceived. To say they hated one  another was perhaps an exaggeration, but it was no exaggeration to say  that Neville loathed and detested Saul; and Saul, it seemed, more than  returned his feelings-to the extent that he would marry her himself  rather than allow his child to be 'contaminated' by any relationship she  had with Neville.

Once married to Saul she could see that he would soon put a stop to any  relationship between Neville and herself-even a cousinly one. But it was  all so futile. She cared nothing for Neville-she didn't even  particularly like him. She had told Saul as much.

But she had also told him that she had plotted against him behind his  back with Neville, she reminded herself; she had unwittingly fed the  resentment Saul felt towards her maternal cousin, not realising how  intensely Saul felt about him.

It was perhaps feasible that Saul should think she cared far more for  Neville than she actually did, in view of the crush she had had on him  when she was twelve.

Her reverie was broken as the door opened to admit her aunt, her plump face creased into worried anxiety.

'Lucy, my dear. How are you feeling? Dr Ellis called at the Dower House and told us … '

Saul apparently had opted to stay downstairs.

'He's talking to your uncle,' Margaret told her when Lucy enquired. 'So you're quite safe if you want a private chat.'

As always her aunt's shrewdness caught her off guard. Margaret always  looked so naïve that it was a surprise to discover just how on the ball  she really was.

'Did Dr Ellis tell you about this vitamin deficiency he thinks I have?'

'He did mention it briefly, yes,' Margaret agreed, frowning again. 'He  wants you to go into hospital for some tests, apparently.'

'Yes. He's coming back this afternoon to tell me what arrangements he's made.'

It was plain to Margaret that her niece's mind was on something else,  and she looked at her thoughtfully for a second before saying quietly,  'What's really worrying you, Lucy?'

Her aunt's perception brought a vagrant smile to her lips. 'Saul wants  us to get married,' she said bluntly. 'He knows about the baby.'

'My dear, you must be so pleased!'

Margaret's reaction was so different from her own that it was several  seconds before Lucy could assimilate it. When she had, she smiled a  little wryly. Perhaps it was unfair of her after all to expect her aunt  to be anything other than a product of her generation and upbringing. To  Margaret, the fact that Saul wanted to marry her obviously represented a  happy ending to the little saga.

'He doesn't love me, Margaret,' she felt bound to say. 'He simply wants  to marry me because … ' She could hardly tell her aunt of Saul's dislike  of Neville, she realised.

'Because he feels it is the right thing to do,' her aunt finished  approvingly for her. 'And so it is, Lucy. A child needs two parents,'  she reminded her niece, unwittingly echoing Saul's own words. 'I know  you must be feeling very muddled and confused, but, my dear, I do urge  you to give Saul's proposal proper consideration. Of course your uncle  and I would support you in whatever you decide to do, but I really  think … '                       
       
           



       

'That I should accept Saul's proposal?'

Suddenly she felt unutterably depressed …  betrayed almost. She wanted to  cry out that she didn't want to marry a man who didn't love her, but  somehow she simply did not have the strength, and wouldn't Aunt Margaret  perhaps just think her actions selfish? Was she being selfish, in  denying her child the opportunity to grow up in the secured, moneyed  background Saul could provide for them?

What was the matter with her? she asked herself crossly. How on earth  had she become so irresolute and weak? She was behaving more like Fanny  than herself; Fanny the clinging vine who was only too happy to entrust  her responsibilities to others.

Suddenly she thought of Oliver, growing up under the burden of not  knowing the truth about his parentage. Would she honestly want that for  her child?

* * *

What on earth should she do?

It was a question which worried at her almost constantly over the next  two days, wholly taking over that part of her brain which was not  occupied with the hospital tests that were being carried out on her.

The private room she had found waiting for her on her arrival at the  local hospital had been something of a surprise, and she had queried it,  only to discover that she had been given a private room on Saul's  instructions.

Already he seemed to be taking over her life, staking a claim in the future of their child.

So far the tests had been very reassuring, and the doctor attending her  was convinced that the vitamin deficiency was relatively minor.

'That does not mean of course that it can be ignored,' he told her on  the second afternoon of her stay. 'But it does mean that initially we  can compensate for it with very small doses of vitamin.

'Mr Bradford informs us that it's more than likely that you and he will  be returning to Florida very shortly. That's good. The Americans are  very on the ball with their ante-natal care. The sunshine should help as  well-it will make you relax a little. You're very tense and on edge.  Too much so. It won't do the baby any good, you know.'

'Are you trying to tell me I could have a miscarriage?' Lucy asked frantically, alarmed by the grave expression in his eyes.

'There is always that possibility,' he agreed. 'Not so much due to the  vitamin problem as to your own mental state. You need to relax more.  You're not sleeping, so the nurses tell me. These first months are often  an anxious time, especially with a first baby. Some women can sail  through pregnancy, others aren't as lucky. Your health will need to be  carefully monitored.'

After he had gone, Lucy lay with her eyes closed, but sleep had never  been further away. Did she have the right to risk the life of her baby,  simply because she could not endure that thought of Saul marrying her  merely out of necessity? Because she wanted love and not duty?

She was told that she could go home the following morning, but that she  ought to stay in the area for a few days until all the results of the  tests had come through.

In the evening Margaret and Leo both visited her, Leo looking faintly  apprehensive and Margaret openly admiring the luxury of her room.

'Goodness, it's more like a luxury hotel bedroom than a hospital,' she  commented as she sat down in the chair the nurse provided.

'How are you feeling?' she added, studying Lucy's pale face. 'We saw  your doctor on our way in and he says that the vitamin problem isn't too  desperate. He is worried about you though, Lucy. He was telling Saul … '