Marriage by Deception (14 page)

‘I know I’ve nothing much to offer. You’re a high income lady, with a beautiful house, and I can’t match that. The salary’s a fraction of what I was earning on the
Echo
, and the house is made of grey stone, with a garden and a view. I know you’d be making a terrible sacrifice.’

His voice deepened, became passionate. ‘But it’s a real place to live, with real people, and it’s offering me a life with some quality—some integrity. But even that won’t mean anything if you’re not there to share it with me.’

She said huskily, ‘Why did you say none of this before?’

‘Because I didn’t know about the job then—just that I had to leave the
Echo
. Get out before I was destroyed. And I couldn’t ask you to marry me if I was going to be out of work.

‘I’m not a New Man, Ros. I want to be able to support my woman—and my children. And I want our baby to be born with my name, and my ring on your finger, however old-fashioned that is.

‘And I needed my pride back—and my sense of humour—before I could come to you.’

He went down on one knee in front of her, his eyes urgently searching her face. ‘Let’s face it, darling. If tonight’s prizes were for admirable behaviour, neither
of us would qualify. But we don’t have to let past mistakes poison the future.’

She looked down at her clasped hands. ‘What about Janie?’ she said in a low voice. ‘You were—seeing her.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘To collect material for my lonely hearts piece. But she was staying with her friend Pam, not me.’

‘Was that her choice?’

‘I don’t think I gave her the option,’ he said carefully. ‘Your stepsister is very pretty, but she’s not irresistible, and I think she found that a shock. She’s clearly been riding roughshod over some poor bastard. Maybe the next man along will find her easier to deal with.’

Ros looked at him open-mouthed. ‘You turned her down.’

‘Of course.’ His tongue was matter-of-fact. ‘I belong to you, and no one else will do for me. And I shall maintain that stance until you prove to me I haven’t a hope—and probably long afterwards.’

‘But you let me think that you wanted her.’

‘I’d just found you next door to naked with another man,’ he retorted. ‘I was jealous and hurting, and I wanted to hit back. I’m not proud of it.’

He took her hands in his, and she let a soft ripple of excitement tremble through her body.

She said hurriedly, ‘How—how did you hear about the job?’

‘From Alec Norton, who used to run the
Echo
.’ His thumbs were stroking her palms. ‘He’s up there convalescing, and he called to say that the editor was retiring and they were looking for someone to take his place.’ He smiled. ‘Locally, it’s regarded as a job for
life. They like stability. So I went up for an interview and they offered me the job.’

‘You left your flat…’ Her voice died into silence as Sam lifted her hands to his lips.

‘A colleague on the
Echo
is taking over the tenancy. When I’ve not been in Yorkshire, I’ve been staying at my parents’ house.’

He shook his head. ‘And that’s been a total nightmare. Everywhere I looked there were all these memories of you, and it was driving me crazy, especially at night.

‘I told myself you’d probably never want to see me again—but I had to try.’ He put his cheek against her black-stockinged knee. ‘Have mercy on me, Ros. Tell me that “Lonely in London” hasn’t ruined everything for us both. At least it brought us together.’

He looked up at her, the turquoise eyes pleading. ‘Is it too much to ask? Does your life in Chelsea mean too much to you?’

She slid off the chair and knelt beside him, her arms going round his neck. She said, ‘I’ve sold my house. I was going away somewhere—anywhere—because I couldn’t bear being without you. And I’d love a house in Yorkshire, with children—and a view. As long as you’re there.’

For a moment he held her closely. He whispered, “‘Live with me and be my love”,’ then he began to kiss her, his warm, questing mouth banishing the chill of loneliness for ever. And Ros surrendered gladly, her body aglow with a happiness she had not dreamed was possible.

When she could speak, she said, ‘But there isn’t going to be a baby, Sam. Not yet. I know that definitely now.’

He lifted her to her feet. He said softly, ‘Then let’s go home and practise.’ And kissed her again.

Ros removed the final page from the printer and put it neatly with the rest of the manuscript. She moved her shoulders, putting a testing hand to the small of her back.

She was glad that she’d finished the new book before the baby came, although she suspected it was going to be a closer finish than she’d realised.

Vivien, she thought happily, had better start packing her godmother’s outfit.

She went over to the window and looked out. The small first-floor room she’d commandeered as a study at the back of the house overlooked the vegetable patch where Sam was digging, vigorously assisted by their golden retriever puppy.

As if he sensed her presence at the window, Sam looked up, shading his eyes, and blew her a kiss.

Ros smiled, resting her fingertips lightly against the glass, feeling her love for him open like a flower within her.

Her case was packed and waiting in the freshly decorated nursery next door. But she wouldn’t tell Sam about the slight contractions she was having. Not quite yet. In case he panicked and started phoning their respective parents, and insisting she go into hospital immediately.

Because she’d rather spend her waiting time here, quietly, with him, in this home they’d made together.

In the end they’d combined their cheques from
Life Today
to provide the deposit, while, at Sam’s suggestion, the money from the Chelsea house had been set aside as a trust fund for their children.

She’d go downstairs, she thought, and make some coffee, and they would sit on their verandah and drink it, and look at their view with a contentment that went too deep for words.

Sam was walking up the path towards the house, his spade on his shoulder, the dog leaping excitedly beside him.

My family, she thought, placing an exultant hand on her abdomen. My life.

Then, moving slowly, with the dignity befitting a heavily pregnant lady, Rosamund Hunter went down to join her husband.

ISBN: 978-1-4592-0459-1

MARRIAGE BY DECEPTION

First North American Publication 2001.

Copyright © 2000 by Sara Craven.

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