Sara Craven - Marriage Reclaimed

His smile was tight-lipped. ‘Of course,’ he drawled. ‘The perfect daughter.’ He paused, then added softly, ‘In-law.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I think.’

He seated himself opposite her on one of the big chintz-covered sofas which flanked the fireplace. The dogs, who’d followed him into the room, lay down on the rug between them.

For the first time Joanna was able to take a real look at him, studying him covertly from under her lashes.

He’d changed, she thought. The lines beside his mouth had deepened, and his features had lost any last trace of boyishness. He looked not just older, but harder.

He glanced up, meeting her gaze meditatively, and she hurried into speech.

‘You were a long time coming down from the hill.’

His brows lifted. ‘Did you miss me?’ he drawled. ‘I’m flattered.’

She bit her lip. ‘That isn’t what I meant.’

His mouth twisted. ‘I didn’t really think it would be.’ He drank some coffee. ‘I went down the other way—to pick up my car. I’d left it in the lay-by at Combe Gate.’

‘Oh,’ Joanna said rather blankly. ‘I see.’

‘No,’ he said gently. ‘I don’t think you do. I wasn’t sure in my own mind whether I was ready to come back to this house yet, or if I preferred to spend the night in Midhampton. I went up onto the hill to spy out the lie of the land, and then you came along and the dogs recognised me. That seemed to make the decision for me.’

She said slowly, ‘If I’d been alone would you have said anything? Let me know you were there?’

‘Ah,’ he said lightly. ‘That we shall never know.’

‘Well—I think your decision was the right one.’ She paused. ‘Your room will be ready by now. I—I expect after all that travelling you’d appreciate an early night.’

‘Not particularly,’ he said. ‘I think, don’t you, that we should talk? Settle a few things?’

‘Yes,’ she said, her heart sinking. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘Gabriel, you may not want to hear this from me, but I really loved your father, and I—I’m devastated by what’s happened.’

He stared down at the cup and saucer he was holding. ‘Well, at least we agree on something.’

‘I had no idea he had any kind of heart trouble.’

Gabriel shrugged a shoulder. ‘I presume he didn’t want to worry you.’

She stared at him. ‘Then—you knew?’ she asked incredulously.

‘Yes.’ His voice was even. His tawny gaze met hers in direct challenge. ‘I’ve been seeing him quite regularly in London. The last time was a couple of weeks ago, when he came up to consult a specialist who recommended a by-pass operation.’ He paused. ‘But unfortunately fate intervened.’

He gave her a speculative look. ‘Our meetings have clearly come as an unpleasant shock to you. If you’d hoped the breach between us was total, and I’d be cut off with the proverbial shilling, you’re going to be disappointed.’

She stood up, spilling coffee down her skirt. ‘How dare you say that?’ Her voice shook. ‘I never thought—never wanted you to be apart from him. I’ve been blaming myself terribly…’

‘And scalding yourself as penance, it seems,’ Gabriel said grimly. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No, of course not.’ She dabbed crossly at her damp skirt with a hankie. ‘God, how stupid.’

‘Sit down,’ he said more gently. ‘And calm down.’

‘I was perfectly calm,’ she said, off the edge of her voice, ‘until you started your—rotten insinuations.’

‘Mea culpa.’ His tone was almost casual. ‘Consider yourself absolved—of that particular crime anyway. And don’t throw any more coffee about,’ he added, as her head lifted in shock and she glared at him.

‘Is this your idea of preserving the decencies?’ she demanded.

‘That’s in public,’ he said. ‘This is private—just between the two of us. Husband to wife.’

‘Is that how you still regard us?’ Joanna perched tensely on the edge of the sofa.

He shrugged. ‘It happens to remain a legal reality, however regrettable.’

‘But not for much longer.’ Joanna swallowed. ‘Gabriel, we married each other for all the wrong reasons, but it doesn’t have to be a life sentence. Not any more.’

‘What do you suggest?’

‘A quick divorce,’ she said. ‘Then we can both get on with our lives.’ She paused. ‘Actually, I—I wrote you a letter with my proposals. It’s on the desk in the study.’

‘How very efficient of you,’ he said slowly. ‘You certainly didn’t waste any time.’

‘It seemed to me we’d wasted enough already.’ She forced a smile. ‘And there’s nothing—no one—to keep us together any more.’

He said coldly. ‘I do not need to be reminded of that, thank you.’

She winced. ‘I’m sorry. But you know it’s true.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘We married each other because it was what Lionel wanted, and we made a wretched mess of it all.’ She hesitated. ‘I think he regretted it too.’

‘I know he did.’ Gabriel’s tone was dry.

‘Well, then,’ she prompted.

He got up and went over to the table to pour himself some more coffee.

‘I don’t think we should file for divorce before the funeral,’ he said, without turning. ‘It might look rather pointed.’

She stiffened. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that. And it’s not a joke.’

‘Bloody right, it isn’t,’ he said with sudden violence, and she jumped.

‘You were the one who wanted to talk,’ she said defensively.

‘I did not, however, choose this particular topic of conversation,’ he retorted, returning to his seat. ‘Maybe we should postpone it until we’re both feeling a little less raw.’

Her voice was uncertain. ‘But you said there were things to settle.’

‘About the funeral, mainly.’ His firm lips tightened. ‘One of the reasons I came back today was so that you wouldn’t have to handle things all by yourself.’

‘That was thoughtful of you,’ she said stiffly. ‘I made a list this morning of everything there was to do. Perhaps you’d better look through it and see what I’ve forgotten.’

‘I don’t think I dare,’ he murmured.

‘Gabriel—this isn’t easy for me. Lionel wasn’t just my father-in-law. He was my dearest friend. Whatever our personal feelings, we should—respect his memory and try to work together.’

‘That’s a good speech,’ he approved. ‘Did you think of it all by yourself?’

She got to her feet in one swift, angry movement. ‘Oh, this is impossible. Maybe I’m the one who should move to Midhampton.’

‘No.’ He rose too. ‘No—I apologise. You’re right. We’ve got to shelve our own problems and unite this last time for him. We both owe him that.’

‘Yes.’ Joanna bent her head. ‘It’s been rather a long day. I think I’ll go to bed.’

‘I’ll come up as well, once I’ve seen to the dogs. Do they still sleep in the rear hall?’

Joanna nodded. She’d pleaded tiredness, but she knew she would not sleep. Her stomach was in knots and her pulse-rate was going haywire.

She took the coffee tray back to the kitchen and then went upstairs. Gabriel caught up with her as she reached the gallery.

‘Where have you put me?’ His mouth curled slightly. ‘Not in your room, I’m sure.’

‘That’s hardly likely.’ She felt defensive colour invade her face.

But Gabriel wasn’t looking at her. He’d turned to stare down the length of the gallery to the door which led to the master suite. His voice sounded abrupt—almost remote. ‘And not in there, I hope.’

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I thought for the time being—your old room.’

He was very still, his gaze fixed on the closed door as if nothing else existed in that moment. His face was haggard, suddenly, and the tawny eyes were filled with a pain too deep for words.