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‘Yes I know. He came to see me this morning after he talked to Simon. He had a terrible shock, Philippa, and he’s justifiably angry.… I know you acted for what you thought was the best, my dear, but Scott suffered terribly when he thought you’d preferred another man. The discovery that you’d deprived him of his child… well.…’
‘I can’t understand why he wants Simon so much. If he’d wanted children he could have married long before now.…’
‘Perhaps he never met the right person,’ Eve said quietly, adding, ‘Surely my dear you must have guessed that he would want Simon.…’
‘To the extent of threatening to take him from me legally if I don’t marry him?’
Eve sighed. ‘Philippa, my dear, Scott changed dramatically after you left him and his grandfather disinherited him, and he’s been carrying the burden of your rejection for too many years to lay it down lightly now. Oh, I know outwardly he seems to have changed, but inwardly.… He was in his twenties when he met you, and very immature, you hurt him badly you know. You told me when you came here that you still loved him, surely.…’ She broke off and looked at Philippa expectantly. ‘Simon is my grandson after all, the only grandchild I’m likely to have.’
How could she tell Eve the truth? That her son had changed out of all recognition? That he simply didn’t love her any more and that for her—loving him as she did—marriage to him would be the very worst form of torture?
But in the end it was Simon who decided her. His needs, which had to be placed above her own. Her bruises were more painful the day after the accident than they had been when they were caused, and on Dr Forbes’ instructions she had to remain in bed. Simon came to see her just after breakfast, looking pale and just a little defiant. Her heart sank when she saw the wary way he was watching her.
‘Are you going to get married then?’ he asked her without preamble.
‘Is that what you want?’
‘Yes.’ He bent his head and refused to look at her, and then added on an excited burst. ‘We could stay here for ever then with Sc… with Dad.…’
His cheeks were flushed. ‘Oh, Mum, can we? Can we stay?’
What could she do? Scott knew how vulnerable she was where Simon was concerned and he would not hesitate to use that as a weapon against her, but she would have to make it clear to Scott that any marriage between them would be a purely business arrangement and nothing more, there would be no more nights when he took her in his arms and used the mastery of his body to wring from her an admission of how much she wanted him. Not ever, ever again.
CHAPTER TEN
THEY were married a week later. In the end there had been no need for Philippa to advise Scott of her conditions for marrying him. He had informed her that they would retain their separate rooms and that their marriage would be strictly platonic. His cool assumption of the role she had intended for herself still smarted. What had he feared? That she might have read too much into that last evening they had spent together? He had been so withdrawn ever since that it might not have occurred, and only by preserving the utmost distance between them was she going to be able to prevent him from discovering the truth.
Simon was over the moon, attaching himself to Scott at every opportunity he got. The sight of their two dark heads bent over something, Simon listening while Scott talked, pierced her with a sharp loneliness that almost bordered on envy of her son. He and Scott had formed a tight exclusive circle she would never be invited to join.
Eve too was pleased, and had confessed herself glad to hand over the reins of the house to Philippa. Scott had told her that she could change whatever she liked in their wing, and she had already made one or two tentative plans. She had expected to find time weighing heavily on her hands with no job to occupy her, but instead she found her days were easily filled.
For one thing there was the garden, which she was coming to enjoy, and for another Scott had asked her to arrange a series of business lunches, which needed careful menu planning and a good deal of ancillary work. They were asked out to dinner a fortnight after the wedding by Geoff and Mary Rivers, who extended the invitation to include Eve.
She declined, eyeing Philippa with a brief smile. ‘You two go alone,’ she suggested, ‘I’ll spend the evening with Simon, he’s teaching me to play draughts.’
Philippa heard the door to Scott’s room open as she was applying her make-up. Scott gave her a generous allowance and she had been to York shopping for the sort of clothes she would need to wear as his wife and hostess. Even though she had entered the marriage reluctantly, having done so, she was prepared to do all she could to make it successful, in the business sense. The
y were married and for Simon’s sake, they must be seen to get along well together in public at least.
Tonight she was wearing a new Jean Muir dress, in soft lavender with a dropped waistline and soft flowing pleats. It suited her fair colouring, and she Was able to disguise the faint shadows under her eyes with a discreet use of cosmetics. She had lost a little weight since their marriage, and frowned over the narrowness of her waist. If she lost any more people might start asking questions. Happy brides tended to grow slightly plump rather than skinny. She was ready when she heard Scott’s brief tap on the communicating door. He too had changed and was wearing a dark, formal suit, and a white silk shirt. He looked tired, lines of strain etched into his skin, and it occurred to her that this marriage which was no marriage was perhaps difficult for him as well.
‘Ready?’
His eyebrow arched when she nodded her confirmation. ‘I thought you might like to wear these.’ He handed her a small velvet box, and she opened it slowly, surprise darkening her eyes as she saw the diamond stud earrings inside it. ‘I noticed you don’t have any, and I thought these would make a suitable gift—I didn’t buy you anything when we got married.’
‘They’re lovely.’ Even to her own ears her voice sounded stilted, but surely that wasn’t really disappointment and pain she saw in his eyes? He had bought the gift because he thought it was expected of him. As his wife she would be expected to possess a certain amount of jewellery.
They drove in silence to the Rivers house, which Philippa remembered from the time she had worked there. Their hosts greeted them warmly, Geoff producing a magnum of champagne with which he laughingly toasted the newlyweds. ‘Of course, we weren’t entirely surprised,’ he confided over dinner. ‘After all it was obvious that Simon was Scott’s son.’
Philippa felt herself blush, and was unexpectedly grateful for the warmth of Scott’s fingers curling round her own. ‘We would have married eleven years ago, if it hadn’t been for the interference of my grandfather.…’
‘Umm. He was a horror wasn’t he?’ Mary agreed, wrinkling her nose. ‘I seem to remember at one time he suggested to Daddy that you and I marry, Scott?’
She said it so teasingly that Philippa knew that Mary had no idea that that marriage was the reason that she and Scott had parted, but she was conscious of Scott’s eyes on her heated cheeks and of the warm pressure of his hand on hers. Weak tears stung her eyes. If only.… Surely the saddest words in the English language? How often had she told herself there was no going back; that she and Scott weren’t the people they had been, and yet for a moment, with the comfort of his hand on hers she had almost believed it was possible to go back, that.… What on earth was she thinking? She knew they could not go back. Shaking off her unhappy mood, Philippa tried to concentrate on the dinner-table conversation, but she was not sorry when the evening came to a close and they were able to leave.
Scott did not talk on the return journey, and it was only when they were both inside the large panelled hall that she saw the tired way he rubbed the muscles at the back of his head.
‘Tension,’ he told her briefly, as she followed the movement. ‘I’ve been worried about the company’s lack of orders, but the Qu’har contract is a good one and it will make all the difference. Fancy a nightcap?’
