The Right Bride? (30 page)

Naked honesty shone from the shimmering blue of her irises. She wasn’t playing games with him, Rafe thought. She wasn’t like that. “Give me time,” he said in a voice he scarcely recognized as his own. “Let me prove I can give you all the freedom you need, and that I trust you utterly. But don’t send me away.”

“I have to.” Her voice wavered. “I’m sorry, Rafe, I hate hurting you like this. But I can’t love you the way you want me to. Far better to end this now than drag it out and cause you more pain. Please—don’t come to Heddingley with me. Go back to England and forget about me. Please.”

He had his answer, and it was no. Finally and irrefutably no. His one need to get out of the lounge and away from her without revealing the raw agony clamped around his heart, Rafe pushed himself upright and said with formal politeness, “I’ll speak to the pilot. He’ll take you to the Charlottetown airport. I’ll stay in London, I have some business I can do there.”

She’d won. Exhaustion settling on her shoulders like a dead weight, Karyn said with answering formality, “Thank you. Goodbye, Rafe.” She didn’t hold out her hand or try to kiss him; to touch him would have undercut the last remnants of her control.

He said, “Wait here, the pilot will come for you shortly.” Looking around like a man unsure of his bearings, he picked up his leather briefcase from the marble table
and marched out of the lounge. The door swished shut behind him.

Karyn sat down hard on the nearest chair. She couldn’t cry now, not when an employee of Rafe’s could walk in at any moment. She concentrated fiercely on her breathing, trying to loosen the tight bands of tension around her chest.

She was going home. Home was where she needed to be. Until then, all she had to do was concentrate on holding herself together.

Her little house, the birch trees, the weed-ridden garden…that was where she belonged.

H
OME
had subtly shifted while Karyn was in Greece with Rafe. It echoed with silence and with her self-imposed solitude. Rafe wasn’t there with her to share her jokes, to argue about a political situation, to describe a painting he’d seen in Moscow or a sculpture in Florence. To offset this, she put the TV on for white noise, played a lot of raucous rock music and did her best to root out the weeds in her mother’s garden.

He wasn’t there in bed with her, either. Not when she lay down, or when she woke in the night reaching for him, or when her body tormented her with hungers only he could feed.

He didn’t contact her, by e-mail, phone or letter. It was as though he’d dropped off the planet.

She’d told him, more or less, to do just that. She had no cause to complain.

At the clinic she worked like a woman possessed, taking on extra shifts and staying after office hours, ostensibly to bring her records up to date, in actuality because she didn’t want to go home. At least there were other people at the clinic; and when they got too much, there were dogs and cats who didn’t require intelligent conversation of her.

Her second evening home, Liz phoned. “You got back yesterday, didn’t you? Tell me all about your holiday—was it wonderful?”

“I’m not seeing Rafe again,” Karyn blurted. “Except at Fiona’s wedding.” Which now loomed as ominous as a herd of sick elephants.

“Whatever happened?”

Her tongue falling over the words, Karyn found herself pouring out an abbreviated version of her marriage. “We can talk more about it some other time,” she finished, her voice jagged. “But you do understand why I can’t keep on seeing Rafe.”

Liz said carefully, “So you didn’t enjoy yourself in Greece?”

“Of course I did, it was fantastic. But it was totally divorced from reality…Rafe and I are worlds apart and that’s the way I’m going to keep it. I’ll bring back your dress tomorrow, Liz. Just don’t ask any questions, okay?”

Liz would have had to be stone-deaf not to hear the misery in her friend’s voice; she changed the subject, invited Karyn for dinner and didn’t mention Greece, Rafe or the pretty sea-green dress. That same day, Karyn boxed up the diamond pendant Rafe had given her and sent it by registered mail to Stoneriggs.

Lacking the courage to talk to Fiona by telephone, Karyn e-mailed her. It was a brief and chirpy note, saying she’d had an incredible holiday but she was back to her real life now.

Three days passed without a reply, Karyn each morning searching in vain among her new messages for one from her sister. On the fourth day she fired off another e-mail, chatting about the dogs and cats she’d been tending, and asking about John. Again, there was no response.

Surely, Karyn thought in despair, focusing on the screen as though she could conjure up the reply she sought, her breakup with Rafe wouldn’t cause her to lose Fiona’s love. Life couldn’t be that cruel.

The next day was Saturday, Karyn’s day off. She slept in, had a luxurious soak in the tub and made a fruit salad
and pancakes for breakfast. The sun was shining; she could work in the garden all day. She should have been happy.

She wasn’t.

She was upstairs cleaning her teeth when the doorbell rang. She glanced out of the window; a taxi was reversing from the driveway. Her heart gave a great lurch in her chest. Rafe, she thought. Who else would arrive by taxi other than him?

Oh, God, what would she say to him?

She looked down at herself: denim cutoffs, an old tank top and bare feet. She sure wasn’t dressed for the Attica Resort. Taking a deep breath, she walked downstairs and pulled open the door.

Fiona was standing on the step, a small overnight bag in her hand.

Karyn’s jaw dropped. “Fiona,” she cried, “I—come in, I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

Then, in a jolt of pure terror, she realized Fiona didn’t look at all happy to be here. Her sister looked—grim was the only word that came to mind. “Rafe,” Karyn said faintly, the color draining from her face, “something’s happened to Rafe.” She grabbed Fiona by the wrist. “What’s wrong? Is he okay?”

Fiona said coldly, “What do you care?”

“Don’t, Fiona! Just tell me if he’s all right—you’ve got to tell me!”

“Except for a broken heart, he’s fine.”

Karyn leaned back against the nearest wall, her breath escaping in a big whoosh. “You just took ten years off my life.”

Fiona said slowly, “So you do love him…”

“I do not!”

“We’ll see about that. In the meantime, lead me to your
kitchen and make me a very strong cup of tea along with two fried eggs and a mountain of toast.”

Fiona looked, minimally, less unfriendly. Karyn said crisply, “You’d think England was just down the road the way you and Rafe zip back and forth. Without even bothering to phone. You don’t get the tea unless I get a hug first.”

“Huh,” said Fiona. But she opened her arms, and Karyn fell into them.

Burying her nose in Fiona’s shoulder, Karyn gulped, “You didn’t answer my e-mails.”

“I had no intention of answering them. You look awful—shadows under your eyes and you’ve lost five pounds.”

“Six, actually. You look great…you’ve had your hair cut.”

Fiona’s hair now fell in soft waves to her shoulders. “I did. Mother’s in a perpetual snit anyway, so what does one more thing matter?”

“It suits you. You look different somehow.”

“More grown up, you mean.”

There was indeed a new maturity in Fiona’s bearing. “Here, sit down at the table,” Karyn said, “and I’ll put the kettle on. Did you sleep on the plane?”

“Like a baby.” Fiona gave a smug smile. “I only have to think of John, and I forget all about being five miles high over a very large ocean.”

Karyn took out the tea pot and the frying pan. As she cracked two eggs into the pan, she said, “I’m so happy to see you. But I don’t understand why you’re here.”

“Breakfast first,” Fiona said with impressive authority, and leaned over to undo her bag. “I brought swatches of the bridesmaid’s fabrics with me, you can choose which color you’d prefer.”

So as Fiona ate her way steadily through eggs, toast and jam, washed down with liberal quantities of inky tea, they talked fabrics, flowers, cake and the etiquette of a wedding where one set of parents was far from delighted with their child’s choice. Finally, replete, Fiona sat back. “That’s better,” she said. “Now we’ll get down to business. Rafe arrived back at Stoneriggs looking worse than my father the day his investments went belly-up. I poured some brandy into Rafe—well, the best part of a bottle, actually—and got the whole story out of him. He told me about kissing you in the woods, and spending four days in bed with you and—”

“Fiona…”

Fiona gave another of those smug smiles. “I’m not nearly as easily shocked as I used to be. Rafe’s in love with you, Karyn. Madly in love. A total goner. Ever since you sent him packing—for reasons best known to yourself—he looks as though someone bashed him on the head with one of Father’s concrete statues. I haven’t seen him like that since that bitch Celine ran circles around him and no, I’m not quite ready to use that word in front of my mother yet.”

“I didn’t do anything to encourage Rafe.”

“In the woods at Willowbend you kissed him back. You went to Maine with him and to Greece. Where you had, by all accounts, torrid sex on the floor, on the patio, in the pool and even, occasionally, in bed.” As a hot blush surged up Karyn’s cheeks, Fiona added, “It was very good brandy. It loosened his tongue big time. At least you’re not indifferent to him.”

“Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I have to keep on seeing him.”

“You’re a coward.”

“When I married Steve, I made a horrendous mistake. I’m trying to learn from it, that’s all.”

Fiona shoved back her chair, leaning both hands on the table. “How dare you compare Rafe to Steve!”

Karen stood up too, glaring right back. “How can I not? Two handsome, sexy men who swept me off my feet—I’m damned if I’ll marry Rafe.”

“Let me tell you something. I’ve known Rafe all my life. We’re neighbors, we’re best friends, I know him through and through. I’ve seen him with his parents, his servants, his crofters, and his horses. He taught me how to climb trees and ride bareback and steal ripe raspberries from under the gardener’s nose. He rescued kittens from being drowned, he set false trails in the fox hunts, he stood up for kids who were being bullied. Yet you dare compare him with a man who by all accounts was a thoroughly nasty piece of work?”

“I didn’t—”

“You were smart to be afraid of Steve. God knows what he might have done had you tried to leave him. But to equate him with Rafe—don’t you see how
stupid
that is? Rafe’s solid, he’s decent, I’d trust him with my life. Let me ask you something. Do you think Rafe’s capable of murdering you?”

“Of course not!”

“Of hitting you?”

“No.”

“Threatening you?”

Karyn said furiously, “He doesn’t let up. He’s relentless, he rides over me like a ten-ton truck.”

“Answer the question.”

“He’s never threatened me,” Karyn said sullenly.

“Then would you mind explaining to me how he’s like Steve—who did hit you and threaten you? Who kept you in line because underneath it all you were terrified for your life?”

Put like that, it did sound ludicrous to have compared the two men. Karen bit her lip, her face strained and unhappy. “I don’t trust my own judgment any more. Especially with men.”

“Then rely on mine for a while. I adore Rafe. Do you think I’d adore him if he abused his power? He definitely has power, don’t get me wrong. Huge power. But his staff adore him, too, and that’s because he treats each and every one of them like a human being.” She paused, her head tilted in thought. “Maybe it’s because he grew up poorer than most of the local boys. Blue blood’s all very well, but it doesn’t put food on the table or fix the roof.”

Karyn said grudgingly, “I guess you’re right, Rafe hasn’t let his power go to his head.”

“Of course I’m right. Here’s another question. How did your husband treat the waitresses when you went out for dinner?”

“Badly,” Karyn said in a small voice.

“There you go.”

“Rafe was lovely with the staff at the Attica. I noticed.”

Fiona said more gently, “Look, I’m not belittling what happened to you in your marriage, Karyn. It must have been terrible, and of course you’re afraid to trust your judgment. So I’m asking you to trust mine instead. Rafe’s a good man, I’d take that to the bank—and as for you and me, we’re identical twins. If I trust Rafe—and I’d trust him with my life—then so can you.”

“I don’t know how! I don’t know where to begin.”

“Then I’ll tell you something else. I’ve had to fight for my relationship with John, tooth and nail. Now that I’m in love with him, I’m freeing myself from my parents, from a lifetime of being—oh, ever so lovingly—crushed and controlled. I’ve been frightened sometimes, but I knew I couldn’t back down or I’d be lost.”

Forgetting her own problems for a moment, Karyn ventured, “You were like a sleeping princess, and then John woke you up?”

Fiona nodded. “And I’m staying awake. If I can defy my parents, you can flush that rotter Steve Patterson straight down the toilet.”

Gentle, sweet-natured Fiona was scowling so fiercely that quite suddenly Karyn began to laugh. Fiona’s scowl deepened. “Don’t you laugh at me, Karyn Marshall—this has gone beyond a joke! Rafe’s in pain, he’s horribly unhappy. I can’t stand seeing him so lost and all because you’ve locked yourself in the past and you’re afraid of the future…I’ve got one more question, then I’ll shut up.”

Karyn knew what Fiona was going to ask. Did she, Karyn, love Rafe? How was she going to answer?

“Do you like Rafe, Karyn?”

“Like him?” Karyn said, surprised. “Yes…yes, of course I do.”

“How can you like someone you’re afraid of? You can’t. It’s impossible. I rest my case.”

“You’re wasted in the animal shelter,” Karyn said vigorously. “You should be a high-powered lawyer—you could talk circles around any judge in the land.”

“I like the animal shelter. I’m its new director and that’s why I’m going home tomorrow, so I can be at work first thing on Monday morning.”

Karyn bit her lip. “You left John behind on a weekend and came all this way to see me.”

“To talk some sense into you.”

Tears sparkling on her lashes, Karyn walked around the table and threw her arms around her sister. “Thank you, Fiona.”

“Don’t thank me,” Fiona muttered, blinking back her own tears. “Go and see Rafe instead.”

Karyn stepped back and straightened her spine. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll go and see him.”

“You will?”

“I promise.”

Fiona grabbed her twin and waltzed her around the tiny kitchen. “That’s wonderful, that’s terrific, I’m so glad.”

“Rafe means an awful lot to you, doesn’t he?”

Fiona raised expressive eyebrows. “Do horses have four legs?”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“No, he took off to Thailand and won’t be back until the end of next week. Late Friday night.”

“Then I’ll arrive on Saturday.”

“I’ll meet you at the Droverton station.”

“Don’t tell him, will you, Fiona?” Karyn said shakily. “I have to do this my way.”

“I wouldn’t think of telling him. Everyone in the village, including my parents, thinks I’m in London this weekend shopping for a wedding dress. Except for John, of course.”

Karyn felt as though a whirlwind had picked her up, swirled her around and dropped her, disconcertingly, in a very different place. One where she wasn’t sure she had her bearings. Fiona’s wedding dress, she thought, surely that’s a safe topic. “What sort of dress are you looking for?”

“I’ve got pictures.”

The rest of the day, Fiona talked about John and about some of her youthful escapades with Rafe. Once the clinic had closed for the weekend, Karyn took her sister on a tour of the building, noticing how at ease Fiona was with all the animals. She ended the visit at the kennel of a mongrel called Toby; because Toby had been abused, he was reluctant to leave the safety of the kennel.