AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Yes.’
Her own voice sounded flat and dead. A whole world had been encompassed by that one small word, because having Luke’s baby would catapult her into a new life.
‘God, what a mess!’ The bitter vehemence of the words brought Genista’s head up abruptly. Luke was still pale, his jaw clenched in an anger which seemed to be directed more at himself than her.
‘The doctor wants to keep you in hospital for a few days—to run a few checks and make sure that you’re suffering from nothing more than severe bruising. Once he’s pronounced you fit to leave I’m taking you home.’ As though he anticipated her arguments he continued brusquely, ‘I know you were leaving me, Genista—and why, but I’m not letting you go back to that apartment on your own.’
His insistence that she returned home with him was merely another sop to convention; another example of his determination to do the correct thing, no matter what the cost to himself or anyone else. He couldn’t want her in his house—not now. Verity would be furious. And how could she herself endure the torture of living with Luke and yet knowing that all the time he longed to be with someone else?
‘I can manage,’ she protested. ‘It’s better this way, Luke.’ Tears filled her eyes, her voice suspended by the huge lump of pain in her throat. ‘I appreciate that you feel obliged to take care of me, but…’
‘But you’d rather go
to Bob, despite the fact that it’s my child you’re carrying, is that it?’ Luke ground out furiously, leaving the chair to pace the narrow confines of the bed. ‘No way, Genista,’ he told her brutally. ‘You’re coming home with me, otherwise I’ll tell the doctor that you’re going back to an empty flat, and you’ll find yourself staying here even longer.’
She didn’t have the strength to argue with him. It was far easier simply to lie back and let him dictate to her. And anyway, deep down inside, wasn’t there still a small spark of hope, flickering on despite the fact that it should have long ago been quenched? She was carrying Luke’s child, and although she couldn’t pretend to herself that he loved her the way he loved Verity, mightn’t he…Mightn’t he what? she derided herself, her thoughts trailing to an abrupt stop. Mightn’t he turn his back on Verity for the sake of a child he hadn’t even known he had fathered? For the thought to even cross her mind was ridiculously romantic, and surely a recipe for disaster. What had love brought her to, that she was willing to contemplate such a union just to have Luke near to her?
When the bell went, signalling the end of visiting time, Luke paused by her bed, staring enigmatically down at her, a strange expression in his eyes…almost as though he wanted to touch her but daren’t. She was imagining things again, Genista told herself, letting her own love for him trap her into seeing what she longed to see. He bent his head and his lips brushed her cheek—the sort of caress any man might give his wife in public, but it wasn’t the sort of kiss Genista wanted, and her lips trembled unhappily.
It was difficult adapting to hospital life, perhaps because she was not truly ill enough to appreciate the care. Jilly came to see her one afternoon, dropping gratefully into a chair.
‘Mm, lovely!’ she commented appreciatively, sniffing Genista’s roses. ‘No need to ask who those are from. Luke was in the office when the news came through—talk about seeing someone stripped of all their defences! He looked like a man who’s just been told he’s lost all that matters to him in life.’
Genista smiled mechanically. Poor Jilly—if only she knew the truth!
Jilly said nothing about the baby, and Genista did not mention it either. The doctor had assured her that the danger was over, but she wanted to keep the news to herself. She doubted that she would see much of Jilly once she parted from Luke. She could hardly call at the office!
Genista had another visitor later that afternoon. Jilly stayed only a few minutes and once she had gone Genista drowsed lazily, paying no attention as the click of high heels approached her bed.
‘I want to talk to you.’
The voice and the familiar smell of Opium reached her at the same time. Her eyes flew open, her heart contracting in dread as she saw Verity staring down at her. The other woman was dressed in a blue silk two-piece, looking so elegant that Genista was not surprised to see the rest of the ward watching them covertly. In contrast she felt that she had never looked worse. The accident had robbed her of her normal energy. Her skin was pale from being indoors, her hair lacking in its normal vitality. Next to Verity she felt plain and dowdy.
‘Quite the little heroine, aren’t we?’ Verity hissed contemptuously. ‘Well, it won’t work, you know. Oh, Luke will take you back out of a sense of duty—more fool him. But it won’t last. Have you no pride?’ she demanded. ‘Can you honestly contemplate sharing the bed of a man who you know wants to be with someone else? Oh, I know you love him! But if you think you have any chance of keeping him you’re a fool. You might love Luke, but he loves me, and if you had any self-respect you’d make sure he wasn’t forced into the situation of telling you so himself!’
For a long time after Verity had gone Genista lay staring into nothing.
Verity was right: she must refuse to go back with Luke. It would be better for both of them!
He had visited her every evening, and as the fingers of the clock crept round towards visiting time Genista’s tension increased. She would be firm, but cool. She would not betray by a muscle how much she longed to go home with him. She would remind him that she had not wanted to marry him, and that he had never pretended it was a proper marriage.
By the time the clock struck seven she had convinced herself that she would be able to persuade him that she was right. However, she had not bargained for the fact that he had brought Lucy with him—a Lucy who confided delightedly to Genista that her parents were flying over that evening and the three of them were to spend the rest of her half term in London, sightseeing.
It could not be purely coincidence that in Lucy’s presence Luke seemed far less austere, Genista reflected. He laughed and teased the younger girl, and at one point his fingers touched hers as he leaned across her bed. Genista withdrew from the contact immediately, but Luke’s hand covered hers, clasping it lightly and curling it into his palm. When they got up to leave he raised her fingers to his lips, kissing them briefly before telling her that the doctor had told him that she could leave the hospital in the morning.
‘You’ll have to take things easy for a few days,’ he warned her. ‘Mrs Meadows has agreed to come in full time until you’re feeling better.’
If she had any real backbone, she’d discharge herself from the hospital before Luke came back, Genista remonstrated with herself after he had gone. But would it do any good? He seemed determined to take responsibility for her, and she, weak fool that she was, badly wanted the memory of these last few days with him. In another week she would be feeling much better, far more able to do what she knew she had to do.
Luke insisted that she sit in the back of the car. Getting into it brought back memories of the accident, and for a moment she thought she was actually going to faint, but then Luke was beside her, his arms closing round her as he held her comfortingly for a moment.
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s only to be expected. The doctor warned me of the possible traumatic effect of being in the car, but it’s something you’ll have to face sooner or later.’
Luke was an excellent driver, and Genista felt quite safe, or so she told herself until they reached a junction and a careless driver shot out in front of them. Even though she was sitting in the back, she ‘braked’ automatically.
The car stopped suddenly, and through her nausea Genista heard Luke swear, before he climbed out and the door slammed.
She was shaking from head to toe, and made no attempt to resist when he opened the door and slid in beside her, taking her in his arms and cradling her as though she were a frightened child. It was heaven to be held so close to him, to feel the warmth of his body and smell its familiar sharp odour. Telling herself that she was a fool, Genista closed her eyes and clung ashamedly to the broad warmth of his shoulders, quivering under the soothing touch of his hands stroking down her spine. Burying her face in the open neck of his shirt was an automatic reaction, as was breathing deeply the clean, male smell of his skin. She wanted these moments never to end, but at last Luke put her away from him, his jaw clenching as he looked down at her.
