The Guilty Wife (8 page)

'Well, a boy would be absolutely marvellous too— and maybe the next time it will be a girl.'

'The next time!' Lucie exclaimed, and punched him on the shoulder. 'Just how many times are we going to try for this daughter?'

'As long as it takes, of course,' Seton said with a grin. 'And anyway I hike you pregnant; you look so beautiful and so happy, as if someone had lit a light inside you.'

She laughed. 'Well, I suppose you have, in a way.'

He went on stroking her gently. Lucie turned her head and kissed his throat, letting herself sink in the warm, masculine smell of him, in his closeness, hi the strength of his arms. Then she said, her voice muffled, 'Sometimes I miss you so much.'

Raising his hand, he turned her face towards him and stroked her hair, then bent to kiss her. 'Why, darling, you're crying.'

'No, not really. It was just—just love, that's all.'

Smiling tenderly, he kissed her eyes. 'My sweet girl.' Moving over her, he took her gently, moving slowly so that their pleasure was prolonged into a wonderful voyage of discovery, culminating in a golden burst of fulfilled delight that left Lucie physically exhausted. Still held in his arms, she fell immediately asleep. When Seton left to go away again on Monday Lucie was almost restored to happiness. And determined to stay that way. The incident was over; she could forget Rick and get back to living a normal life again. Her peace of mind lasted for just two more days. Coming home after taking Sam to his nursery class, she picked the post up from the mat and found a letter addressed to herself, the address handwritten. There were other letters so she got herself a coffee and went into the garden to read them hi the sun. The handwritten letter was quite short. It said:

Why bother to change your phone number, Lucie? You should know I'll always find you. Remember the last time we met? In court? I'll never forget it—and I'D make sure you don't either. She should have realised that he would find out her address. With trembling hands Lucie put the letter back into the envelope. The address was clearly and accurately written. He had found out the number of the house as well as the name of the street, and it had been posted two days ago.

Going inside, Lucie put the letter in the empty grate and burnt it, pushing the poker viciously into the embers. Now what was she going to do? But there was only one thing she could do, and that was ignore it. Sensibly, Lucie told herself that if Rick got no satisfaction from baiting her then he would eventually give up and leave her alone. She tried very hard to convince herself of that, but she began to dread picking up the post or answering the doorbell as she waited with inner terror for the next communication.

But for the next two days there was nothing. Everything was back to normal and Lucie began to feel a little more confident and to look forward to Seton's coming home for the weekend. She was giving a dinner party on Saturday night for some members of the local selection committee—a sort of thank-you for having chosen Seton—so on Friday she was busy shopping and preparing, as well as looking after Sam and sprucing up the house. The phone in Seton's study gave a couple of rings, then stopped, and she knew it was a fax coming through on its dedicated line. Lucie finished the pavlova she was making, pleased with the way it had turned out, popped it in the fridge, then washed her hands and went to look at what had come through. She tore the sheet off the fax machine, read it, and nearly died. 'Don't think you can escape me. I'll always be able to reach you. By the way, I like your car.'

When Seton came home hi the early evening Lucie tried to pretend that nothing had happened, that her nerves weren't shot to pieces, but she was unable to hide it completely, and after kissing her Seton looked at her hi concern.

'That wasn't much of a kiss! Is anything the matter?'

'It's been a hectic day, that's all, and I've got a bit of a headache. Do you think you could give Sam his bath while I get dinner?'

'Bath this brat?' Seton swung Sam under his arm, the boy giving a shriek of pleasure. 'I suppose I could manage that.'

He took him upstairs and by the time he came down an hour later, after putting Sam to bed, Lucie had dinner all ready. Usually this time was very precious, when they caught up on all the news while he'd been away, when they would talk and laugh across the table, pledging then-love for each other hi every glance, in every smile. But tonight, when they sat opposite each other, Lucie felt almost like a stranger. The terrible secret she was hiding somehow set her apart, and she found it difficult even to talk naturally. She managed to ask him how his week had gone, and Seton began to tell her about the hotel where he'd stayed with a couple of other barristers, two of whom Lucie knew. 'Peter Brent has invited us to join them for a weekend at then: cottage in Wales,' he told her. 'Evidently there's a lake nearby where they go sailing. It sounds fun. What do you think?'

But Lucie was gazing down at her plate, her fork poised over it, and her thoughts right here instead of in Wales.

'Lucie?' Seton leaned forward and touched her hand. 'Hey, come back to me.'

'What? Oh, sorry.' Lucie managed to laugh. 'I was miles away.'

'So I noticed. What were you thinking about?'

She hastily invented an excuse.

'The—er—the dinner party tomorrow night. I've never cooked for so many people before.'

'You're not nervous about it, are you?'

'A bit, yes.'

'Darling, you have no cause to be. You're a great cook.'

'Thanks, but I don't really know these people, and they're so important.'

'Nonsense. They're just medium fish in a small pond, that's all. Now, wait till I get elected and invite the Prime Minister to dinner,' he joked. 'Only then will you be entitled to feel nervous.'

Lucie gave him the smile he wanted. 'Do people ever really invite the Prime Minister to dinner?'

'I imagine so, but you needn't worry too much; it will probably be a very long time, if ever, before I get on those sorts of terms.'

'You'll be a minister in no time,' Lucie said loyally.

Seton grinned, picked up her hand and kissed it. 'Such optimism—when I haven't even been elected yet.'

'You will be.'

Lucie tried to be cheerful and attentive for the rest of the meal, but a couple of times found herself gazing into space again. She caught herself up guiltily and glanced at Seton. He'd noticed, of course, but didn't say anything until they'd finished the meal. 'Go and sit down and rest,' he suggested. I’ll clear away and get the coffee.'

'Oh, but you've been working all day and—'

'So have you. Just looking after Sam is a job and a half. Now, do as you're told or I'll put you across my knee.'

Lucie laughed, knowing it to be an empty threat. 'Mmm, I just love it when you get macho.' She hesitated, then said, 'Would you mind if I skipped coffee? I think I'd like to go and have a bath, relax.'

'Of course not. Is your head very bad?'

'It will go.'

'I hope so.' Putting his arms round her waist, Seton drew her to him. 'Because I have been away for a whole week.'

'Missing your oats, huh?'

'But definitely.' He lowered his hands to her hips and held her against his body, moving so that she felt his growing arousal. He had closed his eyes and now let out his breath in an open-mouthed sigh. 'You are the sexiest woman I have ever met.'

'Good.' But instead of kissing him Lucie leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes on the ground. Releasing her, Seton said, 'Go on; go and have your bath. I'll be up after I've had a coffee.'

She didn't know how long she had been in the bath, her thoughts full of despondency, but she was still there when Seton came up and had his shower. Afterwards he put on a robe and came over to kneel down beside the bath, where Lucie was staring up at the ceiling.

'Darling, this water is almost cold.'

'Is it? Yes, I suppose I'd better get out.'

She made a half-hearted attempt to rise, but Seton said, 'No, wait. Here.' He turned on the hot tap, then took up the soap and began to wash her. It was something he had done often before and they had both taken delight in it, especially as they knew that it always led to love. Tonight Lucie just lay back and let him do what he wanted, her eyes fixed on his face, trying to fight the misery inside herself.

He glanced at her from time to time and she managed to smile at him, but mostly he was intent on what he was doing, on running his soapy hand along her arms and legs, making patterns where his fingers had lingered. The bubbles gradually disappeared so that he could see her body more clearly. He soaped and caressed her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, and on down, delighting in the beauty of her slim figure, in every curve of her body, taking extreme pleasure in his task and knowing that she shared it. At length Seton helped her to stand so that he could dry her off. There were a few bubbles on his face where he had been unable to resist bending to kiss her. Lifting a hand to wipe away the bubbles gently, Lucie said in a voice husky with emotion, 'I love you. I love you so much.'

'Darling!' Wrapping a huge bath sheet round her, Seton scooped her up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom, laid her on the bed. Opening the towel, he began to dry her, but Lucie put her hands on his shoulders, her voice suddenly urgent. 'No. I want you to take me now. Now!' And she tore open the belt of his robe and pulled him on top of her.

Seton gave a gasp of surprise, and his gasps increased in amazement as Lucie almost forced him into her, taking control, taking his love with ferocious hunger, with an abandoned savagery that she had never shown before and which was completely selfish. That it excited Seton beyond control was by the way; Lucie needed him desperately, needed to be as much a part of him as she could possibly be, because only that way could she shut out the fears and the pictures in her mind.

Afterwards, when Seton's hammering heart allowed him to speak, he took her in his arms and said, 'Well! I certainly didn't expect anything like that tonight. If this is what you've like when you have a headache... Wow!' She gave a perfunctory smite but didn't speak. Stroking her face, he said, 'Was there any reason for it?'

Lucie gave a small shrug. 'I don't know.' She turned her head to look at him, her eyes large and vulnerable in her pale face. 'If I were to lose you I couldn't bear it. I'd want to die.'

He frowned and, because he was so secure in their love, completely mistook her meaning. 'Hey, what's this?

Nothing is going to happen to me. Or to you. We're going to grow old and crabby together. We both agreed on that. Now, what's happened to make you afraid?'

She had to give him some excuse, Lucie realised, so she said, 'On the television...' She didn't have to go on; there was always some item on the television about people dying or being killed. Tightening his hold, Seton drew her against him. 'You must be feeling tired to let it get to you. Come on, let me finish drying you, then get some sleep.'

But she was already dry so he helped her put on her nightdress and get into bed. 'Would you like a hot drink?'

'No, thanks.' Lucie shook her head and lay back, dosing her eyes.

He soon joined her and turned off the lamp, holding her in the way they always slept. Presently, Lucie felt him relax and his breathing become even with sleep. But she didn't sleep herself. With a sick feeling in her heart she was realising how selfish she was being in having another child when all these threats were hanging over her. It was neither right nor fair. The child would be just another victim of her past. The daughter that Seton so wanted might have her whole life blighted by the scandal. For a moment Lucie even wished that she wasn't pregnant. Then, completely appalled by such a terrible thought, she lay and cried silent tears while Seton slept beside her. The dinner party the following evening wasn't a failure but it wasn't as perfect as Lucie had hoped it would be. She was terribly tired, having hardly slept the night before, and was on tenterhooks all day in case another fax came through.

Whenever the phone rang she rushed into Seton's study, but it was always the ordinary phone not the fax. By the evening she felt a nervous wreck, and of course, today of all days, Sam must have sensed her nervousness and played up when it was time to put him to bed. For the first time in his life, Lucie shouted at him to go to sleep. Seton came rushing into the nursery, his shirt half on. 'What's happening?' Taking in the situation, he picked up a weeping Sam from his bed and said to Lucie, 'Calm down. It's only a few people to dinner. Look, I'll see to Sam while you go and get ready. Is there anything to do downstairs?'

She shook her head, hating herself. 'Sorry, Sam.' Lucie kissed her son, then ran to the bedroom and began to change hurriedly into the clothes she'd decided to wear. When Seton joined her ten minutes later she was almost ready, wearing a simple black dress, her hair drawn back from her head, and the pearl necklace that Seton had given her when Sam was born round her neck. She looked cool, sophisticated and lovely, the perfect wife for a budding MP. Certainly no one looking at her could possibly imagine that only a short time ago she had almost lost control with Sam, or that last night she had taken and given love that was almost savage in its intensity.

'You look fantastic,' Seton reassured her. 'Just relax. They're just ordinary people. If you fed intimidated by them just think of them with no clothes on; that's what my mother used to do when she was first married and had to meet the bosses of Dad's firm.'

Despite herself Lucie laughed. 'How shocking! She never told me that.'

'Hardly surprising. But she assures me it works.'

That incredible idea helped Lucie a great deal during the first part of the evening, when they were all sitting round the dining table, but afterwards the women seemed to go to one side of the room, and the men to the other where they talked politics. All their guests were quite a lot older than her and presumably the women thought that a good enough excuse to ask her questions that Lucie herself would never have asked of anyone, let alone a virtual stranger. After exclaiming over a photograph of Sam, one woman said, 'And do you intend to have many more children, Lucie, my dear? An only child gets so lonely, I always think.'