PENNY JORDAN - Blackmail

Gilles laughed mirthlessly. ‘If you’re comparing her fate with yours then don’t. My foolish relative made the cardinal error of falling deeply in love with his captive bride, and the story goes that upon learning that he loved her enough to send her back to her parents, the girl relented and came to love him in turn. What is more like it is that she discovered that languishing alone in a tower can be dull and lonely, and decided to make the best of matters. Whatever the truth, she bore my ancestor three sons and two daughters.’

‘She must have been very lonely and frightened.’

As she was frightened, Lee admitted, although not for the same reasons. How could she keep this temporary marriage a secret from Drew? She would have to tell him. If only she had told him about the letter, this would never have happened. But she had seen no reason—or perhaps suspected that he would not understand; that he too would condemn her for something for which she was not to blame. For the first time Lee wondered exactly how much value she put upon Drew’s trust, if she was already doubting that it existed, and wasn’t mutual trust, after all, a very important cornerstone for any marriage?

‘Do not try to pretend that you are frightened,’ Gilles taunted. ‘Or is that why you hid from me in the shadows of the courtyard?’

So he had seen her! Lee turned, her eyes already darkening angrily, and found herself trapped against the banister, the warm, male smell of him invading her nostrils; his chest darkly shadowed beneath the thin silk shirt. She ought to have been repelled by such maleness. She preferred fair-haired men, men whose bodies were not so openly masculine, and yet some deeply buried nerve responded to the sight of his bared chest and long tanned throat in a way that made her lips part in soft dismay, her eyes clouding in disgust at her own reaction. Had Gilles been right after all? Was she the sort of woman who responded only to the savage maleness of men?

‘Come, I have not yet had your answer; not yet heard from those sweet untouched lips that you will be my bride,’ Gilles jeered. ‘But then we both know that you will, don’t we, Lee?’

‘I don’t have any choice in the matter. If I don’t …’

‘I will acquaint your fiancé with exactly what sort of female he is introducing to his correct Puritan family. Does he not care about all the men who have passed through your life, Lee, or is he so besotted that he has convinced himself that none of them matter?’

‘Why should they?’ Lee lashed back furiously. ‘Not all men think it essential to find themselves an untouched virgin for a wife. Would you respect the academic whose chooses only to debate with those of inferior intellect? Or perhaps that’s why men like virgins; it prevents women from discovering their shortcomings!’

‘You wouldn’t by any chance be issuing me a challenge, would you, Lee?’ Gilles probed softly. ‘Your body is very desirable—more desirable than I remember.’ He studied her with insulting thoroughness; her soft breasts, outlined by the creamy fabric of her blouse; her narrow hips and long, slim legs. ‘But no, I have no wish to be landed with you permanently, although any allegations you might make would hardly stand up in a court of law. Still, it might be as well were you to sign a document stipulating that this marriage will last only so long as I decree.’

His arrogance took Lee’s breath away.

‘You can’t believe I would want to prolong it?’ she exclaimed bitterly. ‘I can see no means of escaping from it, and much as it goes against the grain I shall have to agree, but make no mistake about it, Gilles. I’m not sixteen years old any longer. I’m not impressed by your chauvinistic machismo …’

‘Marriage is a very intimate undertaking, and who is to say what you will and will not feel?’

‘I love Drew, and I hate you. This farce of a marriage can’t be over soon enough for me. And I should like my engagement ring back.’

‘You shall have it—when our marriage is dissolved. For now, you will wear this.’

Lee gaped at the emerald ring he was sliding on to her finger. It was huge, glittering green fire through the darkness of the hallway, and as he slid it on to her finger Lee heard Gilles exclaim triumphantly, ‘As I thought! It matches your eyes exactly. So, now we are betrothed.’ And before Lee could stop him, his hands had left the banister to grasp the soft flesh of her upper arms, his dark head blotting out what little light there was as his lips grazed hers in a kiss which was more a stamp of possession than any tender gesture.

THEY were married three days later in Paris. Michael went with them and attended the brief ceremony. Lee knew it was irrational to feel so bereft of family and friends. After all, it was not a ‘real’ marriage. She could scarcely have asked her parents to be present, but it would have been nice to have Barbara and Pat there for moral support. The other two girls, in addition to being her flatmates, also worked for Westbury’s, but in different departments, and the three of them got on exceptionally well. The Personnel Officer had suggested that Lee might like to share with them, when she explained that she had no accommodation in London. The previous member of the trio whom Lee was replacing had gone to work abroad, and the arrangement had worked out very well. She would have to write to them and let them know that it would be some time before she returned, and also to warn them about sending on her mail. They were good friends, but Lee couldn’t help wondering what they would make of the situation. She could hardly not tell them about the marriage when Michael had witnessed it, but she could ask them to be discreet.

After the ceremony Gilles dismissed Michael with promises to think carefully about supplying Westbury’s with wine, and as Lee saw Michael’s taxi disappearing towards the airport, she felt as though she were saying goodbye to her last friend.

Why Gilles had chosen Paris for their marriage Lee did not know, unless it was merely that he wished to avoid the speculation of a local wedding, although there was bound to be that, surely, when he returned to the château with his bride?

They had been married in the morning, and now it was afternoon and she was a wife of three hours, although Lee reflected that she doubted that she would ever be able to think of Gilles as her husband. Her enemy and tormentor perhaps; but her husband—never!

They had a palatial suite of rooms in an exclusive hotel, and when they returned there after the ceremony, Lee took the precaution of checking that the communicating door between the bedrooms was locked, before stepping out of the suit she had been married in, and having a brief shower.

The blue linen suit was attractive enough, but it was a far cry from the virginal white she had every right—and desire—to wear, although of course she would wear that for Drew. But somehow it wouldn’t feel the same; the ceremony would be besmirched by the memory of today; of the curt words in French; the touch of Gilles’ hand as he guided hers in the register before tears had blinded her when she tried to write her name.

‘Lee, open this door!’

The cold voice demanded admittance. She dressed hurriedly, staring at the locked door.

‘Open it, Lee, or I shall ask the maid to come up with the pass-key.’

The threat decided her. She crossed the dove-grey carpet and unlocked the door. Gilles stood there, wearing the suit he had worn for the marriage ceremony, a soft, pale grey wool, impeccably tailored, and as he strode into her bedroom and removed the jacket, dropping it carelessly on her bed, she saw the name ‘Pierre Cardin’ stitched neatly inside.