His Pregnancy Bargain (8 page)

M
ALCOLM
,
wearing silk pyjamas and a dressing gown, looked relieved when he saw Megan.

‘I thought for a second you were your mother. I've been outside to have a couple of puffs on a cigar. You couldn't sleep either, huh?' He looked sympathetically at Megan, who was seated at the long scrubbed table in the cavernous kitchen.

Megan shook her head and nursed her mug of tea, which had gone cold while she'd sat there. She summoned up a weak smile and hoped her face had recovered from the worst of the tear damage. ‘Bad night, Uncle Mal?'

‘I never sleep in the country. Quite frankly I don't see how anyone does. It's so darned noisy,' he complained, dragging himself up a chair.

Despite her bleak frame of mind Megan was amused by his comment. As a country girl born and bred she couldn't let this comment go unchallenged.

‘What about London traffic?' Even she, a sound sleeper—
normally
—found that hard to cope with sometimes.

‘You can tune out traffic noises—wild animals making all sorts of unearthly noises through the entire night you cannot. Frankly, it gives me the creeps. Mind you, it's not as bad here as where Luc lives.' He gave a shudder. ‘You have the sound of the sea to cope with there as well. God, the sound of the sea has to be the loneliest sound in the world.'

‘That's really quite poetic, Uncle Mal.'

‘Yes, I thought so too,' he agreed, looking pleased. ‘Is there any tea in the pot?'

She shook her head. ‘No, it's cold,' she said. ‘I thought Luc said he lived in London.'

‘Told you that, did he? Not like Luc to tell you anything beyond name, rank and serial number. He must have taken a shine to you.'

Megan laughed uncomfortably and said lightly. ‘I doubt it.'

‘No, the London place is a new thing. When he isn't traveling—a bit of a gypsy, our Luc is. You never know when he'll have the urge to take off. It's in his blood.'

Megan, who had heard the Land Rover revving up at three in the morning, lowered her gaze to the cold depths of her mug. She had seen the note on the hall stand addressed to her mother in a strong scrawl. It wouldn't be long before Malcolm discovered that Luc had taken off again…and good riddance!

‘Normally he buries himself out in the wilds of the country, some place with a name I can't pronounce…Welsh. Not big on his fellow man, is Luc, but then,' he reflected, ‘who can blame him under the circumstances?'

‘What circumstances would those be?' Megan enquired.

‘Said too much,' said Malcolm, looking alarmed.

‘No, you've not said enough,' Megan corrected forcefully. She was sick to the back teeth with all this secrecy.

Malcolm sighed heavily. ‘You're very like your mother sometimes,' he said. ‘Now you must promise that what I tell you stays between us…?'

Megan gravely nodded.

‘Luc had a successful business, engineering, he had a partner and, to cut a long story short, the partner had been draining the firm of funds for ages. The chap finally did a runner and left Luc to face the music.'

‘Music…but I thought you said it was the partner…?'

‘True, the only thing he had done wrong was trusting the wrong man. The police were very good, he said.'

‘The police were involved!' she exclaimed.

‘Sure, there was a full investigation and Luc was totally vindicated. It might have stopped there but one of the investors killed himself when he realised his life savings were down the toilet. Apparently the guy was pretty unstable to begin with, but when someone leaves a couple of kids and a pretty widow the press are not going to mention that. The press did a real job on Luc.'

The information was a lot for Megan to take in at once. ‘Why don't I know about any of this?'

‘It happened during your dad's last illness. Luc has changed a lot since then too; he doesn't look much like he did…short hair, sharp suits…people forget.'

‘But Luc doesn't,' she said quietly.

‘God, no!' exclaimed Malcolm. ‘Luc isn't the forgiving and forgetting type.'

‘Him and me both,' Megan gritted. No matter what had happened to Luc in the past, nothing made what he had done to her excusable.

 

‘Relocation?' Megan repeated blankly. She had been finding it pretty hard to concentrate all day. It hadn't quite sunk in yet even though she had done the test twice—to be sure. It hadn't really been necessary—deep down she had already known, even before the little blue line had appeared.

There hadn't been symptoms as such, just a
feeling
. She had told herself that she was worrying unnecessarily, dates meant nothing, her cycle had always been pretty erratic.

She was still in denial. Of course she knew it happened, but not to her! The situation had been complicated by the fact that an old school friend was staying with her that week. Sophie was just about her best friend in the world, but confiding in her wasn't an option. Sophie had been married five years and had just completed her second lot of IVF treatment—how could you tell someone who was desperate to have a baby that you'd got pregnant accidentally?

‘The quotes to bring the building in line with health and safety regulations have proved prohibitive.'

Megan struggled to concentrate on what her boss was saying.

‘This a prime site for development and, apparently, it's economically more viable to sell and move out of the city.' He sighed. ‘It's a charming part of the world, not far from a village called Underwood. I don't suppose you know the area…?'

‘Actually I was brought up not far from there,' Megan admitted.

‘Excellent. Well, you don't have to make any decision now, but we're very keen not to lose key staff like yourself. I think that once you've had a chance to examine the details, you'll find that the relocation package we're offering is generous—very generous indeed.'

For two days afterwards she pretended nothing had happened. On the third she took some of the leave she had accumulated and went home, it seemed the natural thing to do.

Her mother was away when Megan arrived at the house. The housekeeper, Elspeth, whom Megan had known since she was a child, explained that she had gone to Paris for a break.

‘Do you know when she'll be back?' Megan asked.

‘I couldn't say,' came the less-than-forthcoming response.

Another time Megan might have pressed the subject, but she had other things to think about. Maybe she was reading too much into the way Elspeth spoiled and fussed over her during the weekend, or maybe the older woman had inherited some intuitive powers from her Celtic forebears; either way Megan wasn't allowed to lift a finger. It was actually rather comforting to be fussed over.

The ancient walls of her childhood home had a strangely soothing effect upon her; the moment she walked through the door she experienced a strange sense of peace. Was it
her condition that made her look at the beauty of her surroundings with different eyes? While she was walking in the woods one morning she came to a decision: she wanted her child to be brought up here where she had.

Laura returned on Sunday.

‘You look incredible,' Megan told her as they took tea together in the pretty morning room. ‘I really like your hair that way.'

‘You don't think it's too…young…?'

‘You are young, Mum.' Normally Megan would have picked up on her mother's tension immediately, but on this occasion she herself was distracted. Should she just come out with it, or would it be better to let her mother have a good night's sleep before she broke her news?

She took a deep breath…there was no good putting it off.

‘Mum…'

‘Megan, there's something I have to tell you…'

‘Same here,' Megan said with a strained smile. ‘After you…'

Laura got up and walked over to the low mullioned window. For the first time Megan registered her parent's unease. ‘You know I went to Paris?'

Megan nodded. ‘Yes?'

‘I stayed with a friend.'

Her mother, her discomfort evident, was looking anywhere but at her. A knot of cold fear tightened in her stomach.

‘That was nice,' she said, clenching and unclenching her white-knuckled hands as she worked up the courage to ask what she had to. ‘You're not…ill, are you, Mum? If you are,' she added quickly, ‘you mustn't panic. We can cope with whatever it is.'

When Laura turned and saw her daughter's face a grimace of self-recrimination crossed her own. The fear that lurked behind Megan's composed expression, she had seen before. At her lowest ebb, during her husband's illness and after his
death, Megan had been a constant source of strength and comfort to them both, but sometimes Laura had seen that look…a shadow, really… It had made her feel guilty for relying so heavily on Megan.

‘Gracious, no, I'm fine,' she assured Megan quickly.

Megan released a sigh of relief; nothing her mother had to say could be worse than what she had been imagining.

‘Well, that's all right then. Who did you stay with? Anyone I know?'

Laura came and sat on the sofa beside her daughter. ‘Jean Paul Legrand, you remember him…?'

‘Tall, silver-haired, sexy French accent.' Laura gave a strained smile as her daughter reeled off the Frenchman's distinguishing characteristics. ‘The dishy lawyer whose wife Dad went to college with.' Her brow creased. ‘Didn't she die?'

‘Yes, three years ago.'

‘How is he?' She only had the vaguest recollections of how he'd looked that weekend a few weeks earlier. A few weeks…it felt like a lifetime ago.

‘He's fine. Actually…' Laura sighed and caught Megan's hands. ‘The thing is, darling, this isn't the first time I've stayed with Jean Paul and actually what I'm trying to tell you… Oh, my, this is very difficult.'

‘Whatever it is it can't be as difficult as what I have to tell you,' Megan promised, her fingers tightening encouragingly around her mother's.

‘Jean Paul has asked me to marry him and I've said yes.'

Megan's jaw dropped. Her mother getting remarried—it had been the last thing she had expected to hear. It was the last thing she had expected to happen! For the first time for a week she stopped thinking about her own situation.

‘Marry…I didn't even know you were
seeing
him!' she exclaimed. Belatedly aware of her mother's anxious expression, she expelled a gusty sigh and pinned a suitably pleased
smile on her face. ‘But it's marvellous!' she cried, enfolding her mother in a bear-like hug.

Megan felt helpless when her mother began to cry.

‘You mean that?'

Megan nodded. ‘Of course I do.'

Laura released a shuddering sigh. ‘I was so worried that you'd think I was being disloyal to your father's memory…I always said I would never get married again.' She lifted her head from her daughter's shoulder and accepted the tissue that Megan offered with a watery smile.

‘Dad wouldn't have wanted you to be alone, Mum,' she said quietly. ‘He was the last person who would have wanted you to live in the past.'

Laura sniffed and searched her daughter's face. ‘You
really
don't mind?'

Megan shook her head. ‘Of course I don't mind. I just want you to be happy. You love Jean Paul…?' It felt incredibly strange to be quizzing her mother on her romantic life. She noticed her mother looked as awkward as she felt.

‘He's a lovely man—' Laura's self-conscious smile faded as her manner became solemn ‘—but he knows…' She shook her head. ‘I made it quite clear to him that I wouldn't marry him if it upsets you.'

‘So you want my blessing—? There's a bit of role reversal for you,' Megan teased, but her mother didn't smile.

‘Yes, I do.'

‘Then you have it.'

‘Thank you, darling. It isn't the same as it was with your father…but, yes, I am very fond of him and he makes me laugh and feel young again.'

‘Then I already love him,' Megan said fondly. ‘Have you set a date?'

‘We thought…well, there doesn't seem much point waiting under the circumstances.' She met her daughter's eyes and blushed. ‘Neither of us are getting any younger…' she added quickly.

‘So when…?'

‘Next month.'

Megan let out a soundless whistle. ‘Wow, you two don't let the grass grow, do you?' Despite her light-hearted tone Megan was beginning to be concerned that her mother was rushing into this.

‘The thing is, Megan, Jean Paul's practice is in Paris. I'll be moving there. This place…it's such an enormous responsibility for you with your busy life.'

‘Paris isn't very far, you mustn't worry about this place,' Megan said firmly. ‘Actually, I might be around a lot more. The company is relocating to nine miles from here, of all places. So I'll be on hand to keep an eye on the old place.' Head tilted to one side, she scanned her mother's face. ‘There's something else, isn't there?'

Laura nodded. ‘Yes, there is.'

Megan's brows lifted. ‘Well, go on,' she prompted, kicking off her shoes and drawing her knees up as she curled up cosily on the sofa. ‘It can hardly be any more shocking than learning I'm about to have a new stepfather.'

Laura sighed and placed her interlinked hands on her lap. ‘This is very embarrassing,' she groaned, closing her eyes. ‘I'll just have to say it.'

‘I wish you would,' Megan remarked. ‘My imagination has gone into overdrive.'

‘The thing is, Megan, I'm pregnant.'

A bubble of laughter escaped from Megan's throat. ‘So what's really up?'

Her mother bit her lip and looked hurt. ‘I'm not joking, Megan.'

Megan's jaw sagged. Her imagination, even in overdrive, had not produced this possible explanation.