THE RELUCTANT BRIDE (3 page)

“
It's
no use, dear. Dr Hancock checked again yesterday. The waiting list
for surgery is so long in this area. He couldn't get any indication
at all.”

“
It's
not right,” Gabriella raged. “No one should have to
suffer pain for as long as you have. I wish you'd let me take out a
loan. We could probably get you into a private hospital within a
week.”

“
No,
dear. The mortgage on the house is enough to pay. Oh yes, I know how
difficult it is for you. I won't have you getting into more debt.”

Gabriella
sighed. Her mother could be stubborn but she was right. The mortgage
had proved to be an almost intolerable burden. And then there was the
car. She had to have one but at seven years old its upkeep was
increasingly expensive. And her mother's prescriptions, and Mrs
Greenwood's wages – any more debt, she thought with despair,
and she would sink without trace.

The
park was emptying now and the first breeze of evening ruffled the
skirts of the willows that fringed the small lake. She saw her mother
shiver and draw her scarf closer to her throat.

“
It's
getting cold. I'll take you back.”

When
dinner was prepared she found herself without appetite. Absently she
toyed with the food on her place, making nests of creamed potato
filled with peas. She wished she could avoid tonight's meeting with
Rod, knowing that if he was really determined on this crazy marriage
he would use every means in his power to get her agreement. And she
was familiar with them all.

But
if anyone could resist Rod's steamroller techniques, she could. And
if he resorted to more underhand methods, such as the blandishments
she had seen him employ on girls in the office, he would find she was
quite immune, thank you very much. Oh, there'd been a time during his
first days at Englands when his charm and good looks had had a
disturbing effect on her, but she'd soon overcome that weakness. No,
if Rod expected an easy fight he was in for a surprise. She took up
her fork and flattened a nest of peas with more force than was
necessary.

“
You're
very quiet, Gabriella,” said Mrs Stevens. “Is anything
wrong?”

“
No,
just work problems.”

“
You
must learn to switch off, my dear.”

Gabriella
rose and began to collect the used plates. “I'm all right,
really.”

“
I've
been watching you. You've hardly eaten and you've been frowning and
grinding your teeth.”

“
Grinding
my teeth!” Gabriella laughed.

“
Yes,
dear. You've always done it, whenever you're upset or worried. I
always knew when something had gone wrong at school or you'd had a
quarrel with a friend.”

Gabriella
laughed again, avoiding the other woman's observant eyes. “Then
it must have become a habit. I can assure you I'm not worried about
anything.”

“
You
haven't quarrelled with Bernard?” Mrs Stevens persisted.

Bernard.
Of course, there was her defence. Even Rod must accept defeat if she
told him she and Bernard were about to become engaged. And it
wouldn't exactly be a lie. They had been seeing each other for nearly
two years and although neither had raised the subject of marriage it
was half understood that one day they would settle down together.

“
Bernard
and I never quarrel,” she said.

“
Sometimes,”
her mother said drily, “I wonder if you and Bernard ever do
anything.”

“
Mum!”

“
Well,
he's such a dull earnest young man.”

“
We
have a lot in common. Music, books, the countryside. And he's kind.
Reliable.”

Her
mother sighed. “You're too young to set such store by those
qualities, Gabriella. Not to the exclusion of everything else. You
should be looking for someone to bring some excitement into your
life.”

“
Like
you had?” Gabriella retorted, then could have bitten out her
tongue. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be cruel. Forgive me.”

“
It's
all right. I do know how you feel about your father. But he wasn't
all bad, you know.” For a moment, her eyes soft, Mrs Stevens
was elsewhere. She came back, it seemed to Gabriella, with some
reluctance. “Will you be in tonight? There's quite a good
programme at nine.”

“
Actually,
I'm going out at eight thirty.”

“
Bernard?”

“
No,
someone from the office.”

“
A
man? Then there
is
someone
else?”

“
No,
Mum, of course not! We just need to talk. About business.”

“
Just
the same, put on a nice dress, dear, you never know.”

Not
likely, Gabriella thought. She wasn't going to give Rod Nicholson any
wrong impressions.

Upstairs
she showered, dragged a brush through damp hair, leaving it loose
around her shoulders, and pulled on a navy sweater and a pair of
jeans that had seen better days. She nodded with satisfaction at her
reflection in the wardrobe mirror. Yes, that was good enough for Rod
Nicholson.

The
doorbell rang. It was two minutes to eight thirty. She grabbed her
handbag and ran down the stairs.

CHAPTER
TWO

“
Punctual
as always,” she started to say as she opened the door. The
words trailed into silence. Rod had also changed into jeans and a
sweater. They emphasized the breadth of shoulder, the narrow hips and
long muscular legs. The deep crimson of the sweater brought out the
dark, almost gypsy cast of his skin.

She
stared at him, speechless. Why hadn't he worn a suit? She was used to
seeing him in a suit. This unfamiliar image was disconcerting. No,
more than that. Devastating. The barriers she had erected against him
at the office were being breached and a flood of disturbing emotions
swirled through her mind.

He
was taking an unfair advantage, she thought with growing resentment.
She might have known.

He
looked down at her, his dark eyes taking in the pale hair that
cascaded around her shoulders, the baggy sweater, the faded jeans,
and a smile chased the sombreness from his face.

“
You
look different,” he said. “You look about sixteen.”

“
So
-” she croaked. “So do you. I mean – not sixteen.
Different.” She took a deep breath. “You'd better come
in. Meet my mother.”

She
turned to lead the way, then, a thought occurring to her, turned
back. Rod was following so closely that she bumped her nose against
his chest and automatically his hands came up to steady her.
Startled, she shied away but his fingers tightened on her arms,
seeming to burn through the soft wool to the flesh beneath. She had
never been so close to the man before. Usually she kept at least a
desk width between them but now, just a few more inches and she would
be in his embrace. With horror she felt herself swaying towards him
and fought the urge to lay her cheek against that broad chest.

“
I
was going to say -” Her breath came with difficulty. “I
don't want my mother worried. I'd rather you didn't mention –
about the inheritance. About -”

Rod
nodded. “I won't say a word.” Releasing his grip he
glanced casually around the narrow hall as if nothing had happened
between them.

Indeed,
Gabriella told herself, nothing had. The encounter which had seemed
to stretch to an eternity could in reality have lasted only a few
seconds.

“
Mum,
this is Rod Nicholson.”

“
How
d'you do, Mrs Stevens. Gabriella has told me so much about you.”

Gabriella's
lip curled. She had told him nothing. Rod was simply putting his
charm to work as usual, even on a woman of her mother's age.
Listening to the chatter between the two, seeing her mother's eyes
brighten, hearing her laugh almost coquettishly, Gabriella marvelled
that a grown woman who had lived for so long with her father could be
taken in so easily by such an obvious womaniser as Rod.

“
We're
going out for a drink now,” she interrupted, staring hard at
him.

“
Drink?
Oh yes.” He turned to Mrs Stevens. “I thought I'd take
Gabriella to the Poachers Arms. Nice little pub out in the country.
Of course, if you'd like to come with us -?”

“
Oh
no, Mr Nicholson, I wouldn't dream of it,” trilled Mrs Stevens.
“I do know when three's a crowd.”

Gabriella
could have hit her. Instead, she bent to peck her cheek.

“
Bring
him back for coffee,” hissed her mother.

****