Highland Fling (21 page)

By Saturday night, he was trying to get so drunk, that he could forget the married woman had only used him – and he’d just seen her in someone else’s arms, possibly her husband’s; his fiancée had been in a car crash and there was no way in hell he could now call off the wedding.

As the clock struck midnight and the whisky was having no effect whatsoever, Jack realised that, two weeks from now, he’d be married to a woman he didn’t really love, a woman whom, in less than eight months time would give birth to a child, his child and he’d be tied to her for the rest of his miserable life.

Lizzie woke early, the pain in her ankle a little less piercing this morning and she swung her legs from the bed, carefully putting her feet to the floor. So far, so good.

Gingerly, she pulled herself upright. Arrows of pain shot up her leg and she buckled under the onslaught. Gasping, she dropped back down on the bed. She was going to have to go to the hospital.

Max knocked on the door. ‘Lizzie, are you awake? May I come in?’

‘Yes, Max. Come in.’

He saw her perched on the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sides. ‘You okay?’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘Afraid not. I thought my foot was better but when I put weight on it, the pain was excruciating.’

A concerned expression hovered over his face but he made light of it. ‘You shouldn’t have had those Amaretto pancakes last night.’

She grinned, in spite of her throbbing ankle. ‘Your fault,’ she said.

‘As usual. C’mon then, let’s get you to A&E. Shall I carry you? I think my back can just about support your weight.’

Lizzie threw him a quelling glare; she’d like to have thrown a pillow. ‘I think I’d better get dressed first,’ she said.

‘Oh yes.’ He realised she had a long T-shirt nightdress on. ‘Would you like me to help you with that? I’m generally better at taking them off but I’m willing to give it a go.’

This time she did throw the pillow.

Half an hour later, Max had carried her down to the waiting cab and they were on their way to St. Thomas’. He carried her in and sat her down in the waiting room which was surprisingly empty for a Sunday morning.

‘Must all be in church,’ he joked.

‘Or dead,’ she hissed. Lizzie hated hospitals.

He was told they’d have at least two hour’s wait but Max wasn’t used to waiting. He pulled out his iphone and touched the screen. Fifteen minutes later a nurse called Lizzie’s name.

‘How did you do that?’ she asked.

‘Contacts,’ he said and smiled.             

The receptionist glared at him and he wished her a good day.

‘Well, I’m pretty sure nothing’s broken and it’s just a sprain,’ the doctor said after examining her swollen ankle. ‘A few days rest should help but I’m afraid you won’t be dancing on it anytime soon and it could take several weeks to heal properly. I’ll send you for x-rays just to be sure and then we’ll bandage it up and give you some crutches.’

‘Thanks,’ Lizzie said. ‘Will I be able to travel? I’m down from Scotland and my return flight’s on Tuesday.’

The doctor shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t, but I suppose if you’ve got someone with you, you’d be able to manage. You won’t be able to put weight on it for some time though.’

‘Oh,’ Lizzie said, casting her eyes to the floor. Either she was going to have to stay with Max for the next few days – or he was going to have to take her back to Scotland.

‘No broken bones,’ the doctor confirmed half an hour later after her foot had been x-rayed. He bandaged it up and organised crutches, checking she could manage to get about with them, adjusting the hand holds to allow for her five feet two height.

Lizzie had to hand it to Max. She’d had first class treatment all the way. St. Thomas', she knew had one of the best A&E departments in London but even she knew she’d had special treatment because of Max. A thought suddenly hit her. This was the hospital Ross or Phil or one of them had said that
that woman
was in and the temptation to go and try to find her, to get one look at this nemesis of hers, was almost overwhelming.

When she’d found Max and
that woman
in bed together she hadn’t really focused on the woman, hadn’t really focused on anything, all she’d seen was her husband naked and very obviously making love to someone else. It could have been an inflatable doll for all the impression she’d left. Another vision, another inflatable doll. Oh god. She needed a drink.

But just one look. One real look. She’d fled to Scotland the day after the discovery and although she’d asked Max once or twice – actually more like thirty or forty times – to describe her because all Lizzie could remember was her long blond hair, he’d refused. “It doesn’t matter and it wouldn’t help to know” was all he’d say, which to Lizzie meant “She’s absolutely stunning in every way and you’d feel like an ugly duckling in comparison.”

Lizzie was tempted to tell Max about the accident and who Jack’s fiancée was but she had a feeling that if she did, everything else would come out too and that was better left where it was, so she quashed her curiosity, limped out of the hospital and got into the waiting cab, with a little help from Max.

The minute they got back from the hospital, Lizzie called Jane to tell her what had happened and to ask how things were going.

‘Hey Lizzie! You must have read my mind. I was just about to call you. Things are pretty damned good, actually.’

Lizzie adjusted the position of her raised ankle on the footstool and took the glass of wine Max held out to her. ‘Anything you want to tell me – or is Iain there?’

‘Yes to both!’ Jane couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice. ‘You’ll never believe this Lizzie – I’m engaged!’

Lizzie almost spilt her wine. Max spotted her astonished look and gave her a quizzical glance. She smiled up at him.

‘Jane’s engaged to Iain Hamilton,’ she said to Max. Then to Jane, ‘Congratulations! I assume it is to Iain and that you haven’t run off with someone else.’

‘Very funny. Who’re you with? Max?’

‘Yeah. I’m staying at his place. He says Congratulations too.’

Jane hesitated for a moment. ‘Is that wise?’

Lizzie watched Max as he set the table for lunch. He was a good cook and liked to eat meals at the table, none of this on your lap stuff for him.

‘Actually, yes, but there is a bit of a problem and I need to ask yet another favour, sorry.’

‘What’s wrong?’ Jane’s voice echoed her concern.

‘I’ve sprained my ankle and the doctor says I’ve got to rest it, so Max has kindly said I can stay here. Do you mind keeping Alastair and feeding the animals for a bit longer? Shouldn’t be more than a week.’

‘I bet he did!’ Jane said. ‘Are you okay though? You know there’s no problem about Alastair etc but are you really sure it’s sensible to spend a week with Max? I could come and get you if that helps.’

Lizzie waited till Max had gone back into the kitchen. ‘No. It’s fine. We had it all out last night and we are going to see the solicitor tomorrow; although with my ankle, I’m not sure that’ll be happening. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. Bit difficult now. But anyway, tell me all about the proposal. Did he get down on one knee? Set a date?’

‘Oh Lizzie! It was soooooo romantic. He’d bought a hamper and champagne and he set it all out on a blanket in front of the fire and ... oh, hold on, I think he’s getting embarrassed. Go and do something darling, I want to tell Lizzie all the details.’

‘Not all of them, I hope,’ Lizzie heard Iain say and she heard him give Jane a kiss.

Jane giggled. ‘I’ll spare your modesty, don’t worry, now go – but not too far, I’ll need more kisses in about five minutes. Ouch!’ Iain had smacked Jane’s bottom.

‘You sound really happy Jane, I’m so pleased for you,’ Lizzie said and meant it.

‘Oh God Lizzie, I am! He’s just so unbelievable – and I don’t just mean the sex – I mean in every way. I fall more in love with him by the minute. We haven’t set a date yet but I don’t think it’ll be too far away. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Hamilton.’

‘I bet he can’t wait for you to be Mrs. Hamilton either. I’m so happy for you both and thanks for Alastair and everything. I’ll be back by next weekend at the latest and we can have a proper celebration then but tell me about the proposal and the ring.’

Jane told Lizzie all about it.

‘So, Jane and Iain Hamilton eh?’ Max said when Lizzie eventually hung up the phone, twenty minutes later. ‘Didn’t see that coming. Have they been dating long? Can’t remember them being a couple at Christmas.’

Lizzie held her glass up for the refill Max was offering and shook her head. ‘Neither did I, which doesn’t say much for my powers of observation. I only found out this week that they’ve been crazy about one another for years. They sort of got together on Valentine’s Night but it only really came to anything on Friday. I can’t believe he’s proposed so soon.’

Max sat opposite her and stretched out his long, lithe body in the chair. His green eyes were studying her in a way she found a little unsettling, like she used to not so very long ago. He ran a finger round the rim of his glass, then took a slug of wine.

‘It doesn’t take long if it’s the right woman Lizzie. I knew within a week of meeting you that I was going to ask you to marry me.’

Lizzie didn’t try to hide her surprise. ‘Seriously?’

Max smirked. ‘Seriously.’

‘Then ... how come it took you over a year?’

Max’s eyes held hers, then he shrugged and looked away. ‘I didn’t think there was any rush and, I guess, I wanted to be sure.’

Lizzie felt an urge to say something sarcastic, like, ‘that worked well’, or something but there really didn’t seem any point. Instead she said, ‘That’s strange, I hadn’t even thought about marrying you, until you proposed.’

Max’s eyes formed tiny slits. ‘Even then, you weren’t sure; it took you about ten minutes to say yes.’

Lizzie’s eyes shot to his face. ‘It didn’t!’ she said, but as soon as she said it, she realised it had.

Max saw from her subdued expression that she was remembering too. ‘Oh well, water under the bridge now,’ he said. ‘Which reminds me, you obviously won’t be able to make it to the solicitor’s tomorrow, shall I arrange for him to come here, it’s all pretty straightforward, just a matter of going through the motions really so we could probably just do it all over the phone.’

‘Yeah, it’s so amazingly simple these days. Family Law wasn’t my field but I could do it and save some money, I just thought it’s ... less emotional if someone else handles it.’

‘I’ll pay for it anyway, so don’t worry about that. No! Don’t argue Lizzie. I’m the one who broke it, I’m the one who should pay to clear up the mess – in a manner of speaking.’

Lizzie knew there was no point in arguing over this so she just said, ‘Thanks Max.’

‘Okay, I’ll get him to come here at say five-ish tomorrow. I’ll leave the office early.’

‘Okay but he may not be free at five.’

Max looked at her as if she was being ridiculous. ‘Of course he’ll be free,’ he said.

And Lizzie knew, for Max, he would.

Chapter Thirteen

There was no time like the present, Ross told himself. When he left Kim’s bedside last night he should have gone straight back to the pub, hauled Jack outside and told him the truth but as usual, he’d put it off.

Telling your best friend outside a pub that you’ve slept with his fiancée is not a good idea. Telling your best friend in his own apartment that, at least he’ll get to have the place back to himself as his fiancée would be moving out, was much better – wasn’t it?

Ross summoned all his courage. It wasn’t that he was frightened of what Jack might do to him – he’d actually feel better if Jack beat him to a pulp, not that he thought for one minute that he would, Jack just wasn’t a violent man – it was that he was worried about what he might do to Jack.

Ross, Phil and Jack had been best friends since they were five and the knowledge that Ross had betrayed him would hit Jack hard. Two things were important to Jack, friendship and fidelity and Ross had torn them both to shreds then set fire to them for good measure.

When Kim had announced the engagement and Jack had to choose his best man, Phil and Ross had drawn straws because Jack wasn’t prepared to pick one over the other, even though Ross had said it should be Phil and he was happy to stand aside. When Jack discovered it was because Ross hadn’t wanted to be the one standing beside him as Kim walked down the aisle, he would feel doubly betrayed.

There was no way to sugar coat it. Ross loved Kim, Kim loved Ross and although they both loved Jack, they loved each other more, so Jack had to go. Ross now wished he’d had the courage to tell Jack two weeks ago, things would have been so much easier then. Now there was a baby involved and that brought a whole new pram load of problems.

Kim assumed the baby was Jack’s but Ross thought there was a slight chance it might be his, so that meant waiting for the results of a paternity test, and then what? How would they cope if Ross wasn’t the father and Jack was? Jack wasn’t the sort of man who would just walk away and let someone else raise his child. He’d want to be involved.

Ross had gone from being a jealous bachelor to a possible husband and part time father of another man’s child in a matter of five minutes last night. Once he’d recovered from the initial shock of Kim’s pregnancy – and it had been one hell of a shock – he realised very quickly that even if the child wasn’t his, he still wanted to marry Kim.

He’d taken off his signet ring, got down on one knee beside Kim’s hospital bed and asked her to marry him. It was an odd scenario as she was already engaged to Jack, but her ring had been removed by the nurses in accident and emergency and was now safely wrapped in tissue in her mum’s handbag. When Kim said yes, Ross slipped his signet ring on the third finger of her left hand and promptly kissed her full on the lips.

‘Well thank heavens that’s one thing sorted out at least,’ Mrs. Mentor had said as she got back just in time to witness the proposal. ‘Now all you’ve got to do is tell the other fiancé, move out of his flat, reorganise the wedding, and find out who’s baby it is and it’ll all be plain sailing from there on in!’ Mrs. Mentor always looked on the bright side of life.