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Second Chance with the Millionaire(24)

By:Penny Jordan


'Saul? Saul's here with you?' Instantly she was thrown into a panic.

'He's with the doctor,' Margaret told her. 'Lucy, have you thought  seriously about his offer of marriage?' she asked anxiously. 'Please  don't think Leo and I are backtracking on our offer to have you with us,  but from what your doctor has been telling us I'm really very concerned  about anything happening to you. The house is rather remote, and if Leo  and I weren't there and something happened …  We do go out rather a lot,  and we're due to go on holiday with some friends later in the month. I'm  not trying to put you off, my dear, but for your sake and the baby's,  wouldn't you be better off with Saul? After all, it is his child …  and  you do love him.'                       
       
           



       

Yes, she did, and that was the problem. If she didn't love him it would  be much easier for her to come to a decision, to decide cold-bloodedly  and without emotion that Saul owed it to both her and the baby to take  care of them; but loving him as she did, it was agonising to contemplate  living in some degree of intimacy with him, while knowing that he  disliked and despised her, and cared only for their child. Did she have  the strength to endure that?

When visiting time came to an end without Saul coming in to see her she  was dismayed to discover how disappointed she felt. She told herself it  was only because she wanted to discover what he had learned from her  doctor, but she knew that wasn't completely true. She wanted to see him,  craved the sight of him like a junkie hooked on drugs, even while she  knew it destroyed her.

∗ ∗ ∗

Taking her completely off guard he arrived the next morning, just as she  was being discharged. His expression was grim and uncommunicative as he  led her to his car.

She had expected her aunt and uncle to come for her, and tiny prickles  of apprehension iced up and down her spine as he opened the door for  her.

He didn't speak at all as they drove back, only addressing her when,  instead of stopping at the Dower House, he swept past it, down the drive  towards the Manor.

'Don't worry,' he told her laconically, 'I'm not kidnapping you. I just  wanted to have a little talk before I restored you to the bosom of your  family.'

Lucy could guess what he wanted to talk about and, drained by the sudden  surge of weakness flooding her body, she said tiredly, 'There's no need  for us to talk, Saul. You've won. I'll marry you. But please …  all I  want to do right now is lie down … '

Her voice wobbled betrayingly, the car screeching to a halt as he almost stood on the brakes halfway down the drive.

At first she thought he was angry with her, and then she realised the  tension round his mouth and in his eyes was caused by fear-fear not for  her, but for their child, she realised hazily as he leaned towards her,  his voice urgent as he called her name, dragging her back from that  black place that waited for her.

'Damn, you, Lucy,' he swore thickly, as her faintness receded. 'You take  years off my life every time you do that. Is it any wonder your aunt  and uncle are anxious about you? Have you thought about what might  happen if you blacked out like that when you were alone?'

Of course she had; almost constantly since being admitted to hospital;  and that was one of the main reasons she had agreed to marry him. It was  unfair to expect her aunt and uncle to give up their normal routine  simply to be with her twenty-four hours a day, and that was what the  doctor had warned her was necessary, especially in these early crucial  weeks. But Saul was wealthy enough to provide round the clock  care-something neither she nor her aunt and uncle could afford-and, for  the sake of her child, she knew she must accept his proposal.

'Don't nag me, Saul,' she heard herself saying breathlessly. 'I really  can't take it at the moment. You've got what you wanted; I've agreed to  marry you. Now please take me home.'

Without another word he turned the car round and drove back to the Dower House.

Of course, he insisted on coming in with her, and, of course, he had to  tell her aunt and uncle what had happened. Her aunt made no attempt to  hide her delight, although her uncle was more restrained, more anxiously  aware that she looked both drained and ill.

'You'll stay here until we can be married,' Saul told Lucy before he  left. 'I'll also arrange for a nurse to stay, to keep an eye on you.' He  saw her expression and added curtly. 'Don't argue with me, Lucy, it  isn't good for you. And if you won't think of yourself and our child,'  his mouth tightened a little over the words, 'then think of your aunt.  It isn't fair to expect her to keep an eye on you twenty-four hours a  day, and that's what you need right now.'

She was too exhausted to argue. It was far simpler to give in, to allow  her aunt to guide her upstairs and help her into bed. To let sleep claim  her and open up an escape route from reality. Saul had taken charge and  for once in her life she did not have the strength to object to someone  else making her decisions for her.                       
       
           



       

At the back of her mind lurked the suspicion that this was after all  what she wanted. She had wanted to marry Saul all along and, despite  discovering that he didn't love her, that desire was still there, and  that was partially why she was giving in so easily. Of course she  dismissed the thought. The reason she was marrying Saul was because she  was being pressured into it, as much by her own fear for the safety of  her baby as by her relatives and Saul himself.





CHAPTER NINE


THEY were married very quietly a week later in the small village church.  Her aunt and uncle, and Fanny, Tom and the children were their only  witnesses.

The only two people who seemed unaware of the undercurrents surrounding  the ceremony were Oliver and Tara. The only blot on Tara's blissful  delight was the fact that Lucy was not getting married in a traditional  white dress and would not therefore require a bridesmaid.

In fact Lucy wore a soft pink silk suit that her aunt bought in London  for her; she was too exhausted and emotionally shattered herself to care  what she wore.

'At least Neville has had the grace to stay away,' Saul commented curtly  as they left the church. 'Or was he motivated more by cowardice than  compassion?'

Lucy pressed her lips together, not deigning to answer him. If it  pleased him to taunt her about Neville, then let him. It was better by  far that he should believe she loved her cousin than that he should  guess the truth.

The excuse Saul gave for his parents' non-attendance at the wedding was  that his stepfather was still unwell. Lucy hadn't even asked him if his  mother knew of their marriage.

In the days leading up to the wedding she had decided that the only way  she could cope with their marriage was for her to distance herself from  Saul as much as she could, and that meant not asking him any questions  that were in the least personal.

After the ceremony she had to endure the ordeal of the small reception  her aunt and uncle had arranged at a local hotel. Her aunt had been  shocked by Lucy's suggestion that it was unnecessary, and it was true  that although Fanny had glanced rather speculatively at her once or  twice, everyone else did seem to be enjoying themselves.

They were due to fly to Florida in the morning. His business  responsibilities meant that they would have to live in the States, Saul  had told Fanny in response to her surprise.

Lucy shivered faintly, anticipating the loneliness of her new life so  far away from everyone she knew. It was true that Saul's mother was her  aunt, but that did not alter the fact that they were complete strangers  to one another. Would Saul's mother welcome her as a wife for her son?  And how would she feel when she discovered that she was carrying Saul's  child? Lucy's chin tilted firmly. That was something over which she was  determined to allow no deceit. If Saul did not choose to tell his mother  that she was pregnant, then she would.

* * *

'If those tears are for Summers, you're wasting them.'

The cold incisive voice against her ear made Lucy sit up straighter in  her seat, her head turned defiantly towards the small window of the  jumbo jet.

They had been airborne for about twenty minutes now, and she felt so  battered and numbed by the speed of recent events that even now she  could barely comprehend that she was on her way to a new life in a new  country.

Fanny, Tom, the two children, and her aunt and uncle had all come to the  airport to see them off, and strangely she had managed to remain  dry-eyed during that ordeal, pinning a bright smile to a mouth that  seemed permanently stretched in false gaiety. She had hugged and kissed  Tara, promised Oliver that she would write to him, suffered Fanny's  tearful embrace with perfect calm and equanimity; but now, when she was  virtually alone with Saul, with no means of hiding her panic and despair  from him, her self-control had chosen to desert her, causing tears of  shock and misery to slide slowly from her eyes.