SARA WOOD - Amber's Wedding

‘I think I would,’ she admitted.

Jake seemed inordinately relieved. ‘And so would your innocent child. This is why many fostered or adopted children aren’t told of their background,’ he said gently.

‘Perhaps,’ she agreed, surprised at his perception. And she thought of the future—telling her child about Enzo and trying to explain how she’d been stupidly infatuated with a philanderer. It was a horrible image. Jake was right; her child would surely turn from her.

‘Then we’re agreed. Your baby must be accepted as my own, without question,’ he said with an easy smoothness, as if he’d rehearsed those very words.

But by marrying her and taking on her child as his own Jake would have an heir without Cavendish blood. And that wasn’t what he wanted, surely? She struggled to understand and wished that she felt more alert. The answer was all bound up in her child somehow, but she couldn’t for the life of her work it out.

‘You weren’t exactly on the shelf,’ she declared. ‘Given time, you could have found someone you loved.’

‘In my job?’ He lifted his shoulders in a dismissive shrug. ‘I’m always on the move. It doesn’t give any relationship a fighting chance. And of the dozens of women I have met I’ve loved none. I can’t let go, you see. And women want me to. They like emotional commitment. I don’t have it in me. And don’t ask me about my past,’ he said, when she opened her mouth to do just that.

There was a wounded look to his eyes which stopped her from pursuing the mystery. Instead she remained silent, keeping to herself the knowledge that something traumatic in his background had made him determined to protect his emotions.

She remembered his reaction whenever she’d touched on her happy home life and wondered if his parents had been repressive or cold. But he’d spoken of them with love earlier. And Mrs Cavendish had sounded warm and affectionate on the telephone.

It was as she’d thought; it must have been a romance that had gone sour. Surprisingly, that disturbed her.

‘What about it, Amber?’ he asked persuasively. ‘I’d prefer not to disillusion my parents about their grandchild at this time—or about you.’ She winced. His parents would be appalled if they knew the truth. ‘Nor,’ he continued with a winning smile, ‘do we want any family member pronouncing our son or daughter illegitimate and claiming the Cavendish fortune when I die, do we?’

‘Or the Fraser fortune!’ she said wryly.

Jake flashed her a suspicious look then relaxed when he saw that she was mocking her own lack of funds. ‘That’s settled,’ he said decisively. ‘As far as everyone’s concerned, your child is mine. It’s for the best, Amber. Enzo won’t care, will he?’

She winced again, shame flooding her face with colour as she remembered the humiliating rejection scene. ‘He washed his hands of his responsibilities.’

Jake nodded sympathetically. ‘It’s over. Life will begin again for you.’

But Amber felt like crying. The future seemed bleak without the prospect of a man she could love in her life. Desperate to stay calm, she turned away, walked over to the window and stared into the darkness. ‘I wish I could believe that.’

‘You can’t shut yourself off for ever,’ he murmured softly.

Hearing the coaxing message in his tone, she whirled around, half-blind with the film of tears. ‘You don’t understand how badly I feel about myself! I mean to keep my head below the parapet in future! I’ll never forget what it’s been like to feel disgusted with myself for abandoning my self-respect.’

Jake made a consoling gesture. ‘You were the victim of an expert seducer—’

‘I succumbed. He didn’t force me,’ she admitted honestly. ‘It’s been a nightmare, Jake—one I’ve deserved. I blame myself for being stupid.’ She felt herself drooping with exhaustion. ‘Don’t expect anything of me, other than the friendship I’m sure we can share. I’ll be a good wife and a good mother and a good companion. Please don’t ask any more of me—I can’t give it. Mary Smith thinks the world of you and I respect her judgement. I’m trusting you to leave me alone. In return, I’ll agree to keep my child’s origin a secret for the time you suggest. You have my word.’

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘And I’ll do my best to be a good father whenever I’m around. I know that you’ll more than compensate for my absences. You have a natural way with children, Amber. The refugee kids loved you. And you gave them a great deal: laughter, comfort, love...’

His voice was husky but unthreatening and she warmed to Jake, the man she admired, who’d spoken gently to her when she was so hurt and who’d made her begin her life again. He’d given her a way out of her hell, some hope, some dignity.

Her spirits rose a little. The future would be better than the past, she told herself. It had to be. She had no reserves of strength to cope with any more distress.

‘The children had lost everything,’ she said pensively. ‘And I’ve had such a loving family. I know how awful I felt when each of my parents died. A gap opened in my life that’ll never be filled. Stuart did his best, but it wasn’t the same as having my father around. Dad was part of me, you see—my flesh and blood.’

‘And you adored your mother, you said.’ Jake sounded as if he understood her emptiness.

‘I miss her dreadfully,’ she admitted. ‘That’s why I could empathise with the displaced children. That’s why I worked so hard to find their parents for them. My parents were everything to me. Loyal, truthful, totally straight—’

‘Yes, yes...’ Jake wouldn’t look at her. He shifted uncomfortably, as if her confidences embarrassed him. ‘Don’t build up your parents to be gods in your mind, Amber,’ he said in warning. ‘Don’t put them on a pedestal. It’s a mistake—’

‘Not in their case.’ Her eyes shone softly. ‘They were special and I’m proud to be their daughter.’

‘No one is perfect,’ he persisted, much to her annoyance. ‘Even they might have had failings or secrets they’d have preferred kept hidden.’

‘I won’t hear a word against them!’ she declared indignantly, a little uneasy with the solemn, almost pitying way he was looking at her. Tiredness swept over her and she sighed. ‘I feel drained.’

‘Poor Amber. You’re shaking like a leaf. It’s all become too much for you to handle, hasn’t it? Why don’t you lie down for a while?’

The bed looked welcoming. But, strangely, so did he. Her urge to throw herself into his arms was rather unnerving. ‘I think I’d better keep going,’ she said thinly. ‘I’ll spend a little time with our guests and then perhaps we can leave.’ She took a few unwilling steps towards the door.

‘Wait a minute. You can’t go like that,’ Jake said in a kindly tone. ‘Your veil is crooked and you look very wan with no make-up on your face.’

‘Oh!’ Amber heaved a sigh. ‘I am a bit of a mess. I forgot. Thanks.’

‘You’re not a mess. You’re very beautiful. Rather fragile and ethereal,’ he said quietly.

She blinked in surprise, at a loss for an answer. Nervously she picked up her skirts, rustling her way to the dressing table, and sat down to make the adjustments. Her hands were stiff and awkward and she couldn’t make them do what she wanted them to.

While she fumbled in her make-up bag for a lipstick, her attention kept straying to Jake, who was reflected in the mirror. The warm slide of his encouraging smile made her drop the lipstick on the floor. She bent down for it and knew the minute it was in her shaking hands that she’d never be able to use it. She’d end up looking like a clown.