Sinful Nights(51)

CHAPTER SEVEN


LISSA!'

The shrill voice of her niece dragged Lissa from sleep. She opened her  eyes tiredly to find Louise and Emma both next to her on the bed, still  in their dressing gowns. Thin February sunlight streamed in through the  windows, Joel's side of the bed empty. Her heart thudded in a mingling  fear and delight. She shivered slightly wondering if last night had  actually happened or if it had all been a dream, and then she glanced at  her watch, stunned to discover that it was gone ten. Why hadn't Joel  woken her? Her skin grew warm as she pictured him waking up and watching  her sleeping  …  while she was so vulnerable. It was just as well it was  Saturday and that Joel did not have to go over to the factory.

Uncle Joel is making breakfast,' Louise told her importantly. He said we were to let you sleep.'

Yes, I did, didn't I?' Joel agreed wryly, walking in carrying a tray  and putting it down on her bedside table. The rich aroma of the freshly  made coffee was mouthwatering. He had also made some toast and the tray  was set with a crisp white cloth and a small vase with some snowdrops.  Lissa touched their pale fragile petals gently with the tip of her  finger, tears stinging her eyes as she did so. She bent her head so that  Joel wouldn't see them, but he lifted her chin with warm fingers and  their eyes met. The warmth and tenderness in his held her. For a moment  the earth seemed to tilt on its axis, her heart lurching, knocking  against her ribs, and then he bent his head and kissed her lingeringly. A  tremendous surge of joy welled up inside her, a happiness so intense  that she shook with it. Louise clamoured for attention, Joel released  her and the moment of intimacy between them was gone, but Lissa thought  she would never forget that even though he might not love her he had  cared enough to make that special gesture  …  to let her know in the cold  light of morning that he still remembered the night and that he wanted  her to remember it too.    

 



 

Her mood of light-heartedness lasted all through the day. In the  afternoon they took the girls shopping. Louise needed new shoes and of  course Emma had to have some too. Once on she refused to be parted from  them, and they left the shop amidst smiles from the assistants.

Because Joel had missed so many bedtimes during the week, Lissa  organised a family tea, allowing the girls to stay up beyond their  normal bedtime. While they were eating Joel talked about his plans to  improve the bloodstock carried on one of the estate farms. His suave air  of sophistication could be misleading, Lissa reflected, remembering how  awe-inspiring she had once found it. At heart he was very much a man  who felt passionately about the land and everything connected with it.  He was also extremely well read and interested in various aspects of the  arts, especially music. All in all a complex, intelligent man with a  hidden streak of sensitivity that would always endear him to the female  sex. Fear brushed her heart leaving it thumping. Joel would always be  attractive to other women. Had he loved her she had little doubt that he  would remain faithful, but he didn't. What would happen if he ever met a  woman that he did? How he would resent then his commitment to her  …  She  couldn't bear it if that should happen. Stop it  …  stop it, she warned  herself. She was crossing bridges she hadn't yet come to, dealing with  problems before they arose.

They bathed the girls together, Louise clinging wetly to Lissa while she  dried her, snuggling up to her and whispering, I love you, Lissa, do  you love me  … ?'

Hugging her back, Lissa reassured her, suddenly aware that Joel was watching her.

What is it?' she asked him, conscious of some slight withdrawal within him, some coolness that threatened her.

Nothing.' He got up, picking Emma up. I'll put this one to bed, shall I?'

What had she done to make him withdraw from her like that? Lissa  wondered. Had he perhaps thought looking at her of another woman  …  one  whom he might love as he did not love her?

As they prepared for bed Joel said casually, You know we're going to  have to start doing some socialising shortly. People have left us alone  knowing about John and Amanda's deaths, but I've had a couple of  invitations recently to dinner, drinks, that sort of thing.'

He didn't say any more, but nor did he make any attempt to touch her  once they were in bed, and although Lissa tried to reassure herself that  there could be any number of reasons for the coolness she sensed within  him she was filled with fear, experiencing for the first time in her  life the full vulnerability that comes with love.

On Monday morning Mrs Fuller arrived, and it was soon quite obvious that  the girls were going to take to her. Lissa was in Joel's study going  through the post for him when the phone rang. She picked up the receiver  automatically, not recognising the cool feminine voice on the other end  of the line, explaining that Joel was out.

Oh, I see. You must be John's sister-in-law then, Lisa  … '

Lissa,' Lissa corrected, feeling an inexplicable tug of antagonism  towards the unknown caller. And actually I'm now Joel's wife.'

Oh yes, of course, I'd forgotten he'd got married.' The excuse was  smoothly bland, but Lissa was not deceived. Her caller had known all  right and apprehension started to trickle down her spine. Joel is an  old friend of my husband's,' the other woman continued. I was ringing  to invite him round for dinner, but of course both of you must come. We  normally get together once a month or so, but obviously because of the  tragedy  … '

They eventually fixed a date, Lissa's caller introducing herself as Marisa Andrews before she rang off.

Lissa knew little of Joel's friends apart from odd remarks he had made,  and although common sense told her it was ridiculous to feel that the  other woman had deliberately set out to unnerve her, she still retained a  distinct feeling that she had.

When Joel returned she told him about the phone call. He turned to look  at the post, his back to her as he said, Marisa and Peter are old  friends of mine. Peter and I were at university together. I was actually  dating Marisa at the time and I introduced her to Peter.'

He didn't say anything else, but Lissa was conscious of an icy ache of  depression that stayed with her all evening. When they eventually went  to bed she deliberately turned her back to Joel, keeping well to her own  side of the mattress. She thought she felt him touch her hair but she  refused to turn round, and eventually the mattress shift as he turned  out his lamp. It was hours before she managed to fall asleep her mind  churning sickly. Perhaps she was making a mountain out of a molehill  …   after all just because Joel had once dated this Marisa, it didn't mean  she was the love of his life. Try to keep a sense of proportion, she  told herself, but the fear would not go away and neither would the  feeling that Joel had cooled towards her. He was still pleasant, but  there was no warmth, no hint of teasing intimacy in the occasional duty  kisses he gave her when he went out, and by Friday, Lissa was dreading  the coming ordeal of Saturday's dinner party.    

 



 

On impulse on Friday afternoon she asked Mrs Fuller if she would keep an  eye on the girls, explaining that she wanted to buy a new dress. The  housekeeper had already promised to look after them on the Saturday  evening and Lissa had no qualms about leaving her with them. They  enjoyed her company as much as she enjoyed theirs.

She had already been through her wardrobe and had found nothing there  that would give her the confidence she felt she so badly needed, and so  she decided she would go up to London. She arrived just after two and  headed straight for Knightsbridge, determined to find herself a dress  that would show the as yet unknown Marisa Andrews that she was no  insignificant dreary little mouse. Joel had left the house that morning  after breakfast saying that he had some business to conduct and not to  expect him back until early evening. He hadn't said exactly where he was  going and Lissa had found his unusual reticence chilling.

Trying to concentrate on the task in hand she hurried into Harvey  Nicholls. Two hours later she emerged feeling light-headed with success  and slightly guilty over the amount of money she had spent.

Her dress was very plain, long sleeved and high necked in fine wool  crepe, fitting snugly over her waist and hips and then flaring out into a  slightly bias cut skirt, but the simplicity of the design was more than  compensated for in the rich dense blue colour of the fabric. It was a  dress cut by a master hand for a woman who enjoyed being a woman and in  it Lissa felt confidently sure of her femininity and appeal.

She had been lucky enough to get shoes to go with it, black suede with  blue heels and satin ribbons, a touch of frivolity to offset the  plainness of the dress.

She had just emerged into the street when she felt someone touch her shoulder. Swinging round, she saw Simon Greaves.

Good heavens  …  what a coincidence!'