The Second Bride Page 7

  Rufus chuckled. 'Don't speak too soon. Upstairs it's a shambles. I've got as far as having the bathroom refitted, and the main bedroom decorated. But the floors are bare, and the furniture consists solely of a bed and a wardrobe. Before you move in I'll get the other bedrooms sorted out.'

  'Can you afford all this?' she asked bluntly. 'Unlike Claire I don't have any money.'

  He shrugged. 'I can house and feed you without resort to any money of yours, Jo. The other house took a while to sell, but in the end it fetched a good price due to the refurbished stables. The people who bought it are horse-mad, like Claire.'

  Jo eyed him uncomfortably. 'Please don't take offence, Rufus, but was the house yours? I mean, Claire didn't pay for it, did she?'

  'No.' He met her eyes squarely. 'Claire had no money of her own, Jo. Her father wanted to settle a lump sum on her when we got married, but I drew the line at that. I staved him off by letting him buy her a horse, and promising to let him contribute to school fees at some future date. I could never get Claire to make a will, but it made very little difference. Her possessions were mostly clothes and jewellery. I returned the latter to the Beaumonts, along with the china and crystal they gave us as wedding presents. I kept the silver from my parents, and sent Claire's clothes to charity shops.

  'The house, and everything in it,' he said with emphasis, 'is mine. So no hang-ups, Jo. It's time to get on with our lives. Once Rory's wedding is over we'll announce ours.' He reached over and took Jo's hand. 'But let's keep the baby to ourselves for a while, except for your mother.'

  'Surely you'll tell your own mother?'

  'In time. Let's live with the idea for a while ourselves first.' The overhead light burnished his hair with silver as he leaned nearer, his grasp tightening. 'Do you still hate the thought of motherhood, Jo?'

  She thought it over. 'I never hated the idea, exactly. But it was Claire who always wanted babies. The only thing I ever burned to produce was my brainchild — my novel. Lots of women bring up children single-handed and make a fantastic job of it, but I never had ambitions to do the same.' She looked at him candidly. 'I panicked at first.'

  Rufus smiled. 'Have you stopped panicking now?'

  'About the baby, yes.' Jo bit her hp. 'About marrying you, I'm not so sure. It still hasn't sunk in. And you haven't tried living with me yet. I can be difficult in creative mode.'

  'At which point you can retreat to your attic,' he said, unmoved. 'But we're two intelligent adults, Jo.

  We should be able to occupy the same house without coming to blows.'

  'I'm very sure of that,' she assured him. 'Never in my wildest dreams could I picture you letting fly with your fists.'

  'Not where a woman's concerned, certainly.' Rufus released her hand and took a diary from his pocket. 'Now let's get down to business and settle a date. I suggest we get married three weeks from now, and Mother can wear the same gear she bought for Rory's wedding.'

  Jo stared at him, startled. 'That soon?'

  'I think we should put things in motion as quickly as possible,' he said matter-of-factly. 'And if anyone's overcome by the surprise factor we'll imply that it's not as sudden as it seems, but you insisted on waiting until a year had elapsed after Claire died.'

  'You've got it all worked out to the last detail, Rufus,' she said drily. 'What would you have done if I'd refused to marry you after all?'

  'Kept persuading until you gave in.'

  "The child is that important to you?'

  'Now there's the actual possibility of one, yes.' He held out his hand. 'Come on, I'll take you home; you need your sleep.'

  Her eyes narrowed. 'You're not going to nag a lot, are you, Rufus?'

  'Nag?' he said with distaste.

  'Over whether I eat the right things, and behave like a sensible mother-to-be.' Jo eyed him militantly. 'I'm used to pleasing myself. If we live together—'

  'When,' he corrected her.

  'All right, when we live together you'll have to give me space. I've lived alone for the past six months and

  I've loved it.' She sighed. 'I hadn't expected to give it up so soon.'

  Rufus sat down again. 'I know I vetoed more comparisons, but one thing I should make clear, if only for your peace of mind, Jo, is that I value time to myself as much as you do. Claire could never understand that. Solitude frightened her.'

  'I know.' Jo's eyes darkened. 'That's why I was so glad she died instantly. She never had time to be frightened of what came next.'

  Rufus jumped up and pulled her out of her chair and into his arms, holding her in a firm, impersonal embrace.

  'It's all right,' she said, her voice muffled against his chest. 'I'm not going to cry again.'

  He made no move to relax his hold and Jo leaned against him for a while, taking comfort in his nearness before a warning voice reminded her of what had happened the last time Rufus Grierson took her in his arms. She moved, and his arms fell away, and when she looked up at him she found his eyes smiling down into hers with amused comprehension. 'Don't worry, Jo. I shan't take advantage of the new arrangement.'

  She coloured. 'No. I'm sure you won't.'

  'Which,' he went on blandly, 'doesn't mean I wouldn't like to. I'm just a human male animal like any other man, Miss Fielding.'

  'Tell me about it!' she said tartly. 'Why else are we landed in this situation?'

  He gave her a most un-Rufus-like grin, and gave her a deliberately chaste kiss on the cheek. 'Don't worry. I keep that side of me under wraps ninety-nine per cent of the time.'

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jo found that her agreement to marry Rufus set the ball rolling with a vengeance.

  'Mother,' she said on the phone next morning, after the usual chat, 'will the roast stretch to an extra guest for lunch today?'

  'Of course, darling. Who are you bringing?'

  'Rufus Grierson,' said Jo baldly, with no attempt to break the news more subtly.

  There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. 'You do mean Claire's husband?' said Rose Fielding after a while.

  'How many Rufus Griersons do I know?'

  'Don't be flippant! You can't blame me for wondering why you're bringing him to lunch. He's never been a favourite with you.'

  Jo blushed, unseen. 'Well, things have changed a bit. We've been seeing each other lately.'

  'Good heavens—you never mentioned it!'

  'No, I know. But I'm mentioning it now, so is it all right to bring him?'

  'Of course. Shall I ask Thalia and Charles too?'

  'No! Just the three of us—please.'

  After a few minutes' conversation to report her progress with her book Jo rang off and dialled Rufus' number. 'Permission granted.'

  'Good. How are you this morning?'

  'Fine. How are you?'

  'Relieved.'

  'Because I said yes?'

  'Yes,'

  'Not a man to waste words, are you?' she said drily.

  'If you wish me to wax flowery, I will,' he assured her.

  'Perish the thought! Just collect me at eleven—please.'

  When Rufus arrived Jo went downstairs to join him, wearing her jade-green shirt with cream linen trousers and a fawn cotton cable-knit sweater knotted round her shoulders—an outfit carefully chosen to show up her tan.

  'Hi,' she said, smiling at Rufus, who, to her surprise, bent to kiss her cheek.

  'In case the neighbours are watching,' he said suavely as he held the car door open for her. 'You look good this morning.'

  'I feel fine.' She looked at him as he slid in beside her. 'You look good too.'

  'I aim to please,' he said drily.

  And, in her case, succeeded, always, thought Jo. Rufus Grierson managed, without effort, to look elegant whatever he wore, and today was no exception. His grey trousers were in a Prince of Wales check that only legs as long as his could carry off, worn with a shirt in a lighter shade of silver-grey. A matching jacket lay on the back seat with a silk tie tucked in the pocket.
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  'I opted for a suit under the circumstances,' he informed her. 'I shall put the jacket on before we arrive to impress your mother.'

  He probably would impress her, too, thought Jo. 'I'm a bit nervous,' she confessed. 'Mother was very surprised when I asked to bring you to lunch.'

  'How will she take our news, do you think?'

  'Rufus, I haven't a clue. My mother's never predictable.' Jo shrugged. 'But, whatever her reaction, it won't make any difference.'

  'You mean her disapproval won't change your mind?'

  'Right. When I make promises I keep them.'

  'Good.' He put a hand over hers for a moment. 'I've got a bottle of Bollinger and some flowers in the boot.'

  'Goodness. She'll definitely be impressed.'

  Rose Fielding, wearing a dark green dress to complement eyes like her daughter's, came out of the lodge to greet them as Rufus nosed the car through the imposing gates to Willowdene Manor. She kissed her daughter, then turned to Rufus, who by this time was formal in jacket and tie.

  'This is quite a surprise,' she said frankly, holding out her hand. 'How are you, Rufus? We haven't met since your wedding.'

  Not one to beat about the bush, her mother, thought Jo.

  'I'm a lot better now than I've been in a long time, Mrs Fielding,' said Rufus without turning a hair. 'It's very kind of you to put up with an extra lunch guest at such short notice.'

  The niceties over, Rose Fielding led them inside her small, compact home, where scents of rosemary and garlic came to greet them from the open kitchen door.

  'Sorry about the cooking smells. In my doll's house here one can't keep the menu a secret, I'm afraid,' she said briskly. 'It's all ready, but let's have a drink before we eat.'

  Rufus asked for gin and tonic, then excused himself to go out to the car, giving Rose the opportunity to submit her daughter to a searching scrutiny before turning away to mix drinks.

  'How long has this been going on, Jo?'

  'A while.'

  'You haven't brought a man here since you gave Edward his marching orders. Do I take it that you and Rufus are more than just friends?'

  'Yes,' said Jo briefly. 'I just want tonic, Mother. No gin.'

  Further conversation was prevented by Rufus' reappearance with a sheaf of multicoloured Michaelmas daisies.

  Rose Fielding took them with an exclamation of pleasure. 'How very nice of you. I love autumn flowers. These are early because of the heatwave. Thank you, Rufus. I'll go and put them in water. You see to his drink, Jo.'

  Rufus raised a questioning eyebrow at Jo as she handed him the glass.

  'Leave it until lunch is over,' she whispered.

  When Rose came back she'd obviously decided to accept the situation without further comment and chatted easily for a while on events in Pennington before taking them in to eat at the table situated at one end of the kitchen.

  'Rather informal, I'm afraid,' said Rose as she waved them to their places. 'They knocked two rooms into one when all the renovations were being done, but I'm quite happy to sacrifice a dining room to a larger kitchen.'

  'You chose well,' said Rufus as his hostess served them with clear soup made from her own home-grown tomatoes. 'Wonderful view across the gardens.'

  Rufus was gracefully appreciative about the roast lamb he volunteered to carve, and Rose Fielding visibly warmed towards him as she passed round vegetables grown in the small garden at the back of the lodge. They had eaten plum pie, and were drinking coffee in the sitting room when Jo put down her cup and exchanged a look with Rufus, who was sitting on the sofa beside her.

  'As you so rightly suspect, Mother,' she began, 'this is no ordinary visit.'

  Rose Fielding nodded slowly. 'I'd gathered that.'

  'Mrs Fielding, Jo is expecting my child,' said Rufus, taking over. He slid an arm round Jo's waist. 'We're getting married in three weeks' time, and we've come here today to ask your blessing.'

  Mrs Fielding sat very still, her eyes wide with shock. 'Good heavens,' she said faintly. She looked from her daughter's vivid, defensive face to the self-contained features of Rufus Grierson as he held Jo closer in unconscious protection. 'No ordinary visit indeed,' she said at last, then held out her arms and Jo flew into them, the knot of tension inside her dissolving at last as her mother held her close.

  From that moment on all constraint vanished. Once she'd recovered from the shock of Rufus Grierson as a prospective son-in-law Rose Fielding grew euphoric at the idea of a grandchild. Pleased that she was the only one to share the secret, she promised to keep it to herself for the time being, and after Rufus opened the celebratory champagne the rest of the day went so well that Rose Fielding included Rufus in her embrace when they said their goodbyes.

  'Mother accepted the situation more easily than I expected,' said Jo with relief, as they were driving back to Pennington. 'I had my doubts for a while.'

  'So did I,' said Rufus, and glanced at her. 'You were alone with your mother before we left. Is she really as pleased as she says?'

  'Oh, yes. With Mother what you see is what you get. Which is why things were a bit sticky at first. She couldn't see why, exactly, I'd seen fit to bring Claire's husband to lunch.'

  'Jo, we both loved her very much, but it would be better—for both of us—if you tried not to think of me solely as Claire's husband from now on,' said Rufus.

  She kept her eyes on the road, saying nothing for a moment. 'Yes,' she said slowly. 'I suppose it would.'

  'Is it so difficult to imagine me as your husband?' he asked bluntly.

  It was the stuff of fantasy to Jo in some ways—the dream she'd never let herself dream. When Rufus stopped the car in Bruton Road she looked at him objectively for a moment. 'It's still hard to believe,' she said with perfect truth.

  'It might help if you come to Rory's wedding with me,' he said, and got out of the car before Jo could refuse. 'Since we axe now engaged—'

  'Committed, not engaged, ' she retorted as she unlocked the door. 'Are you coming in for a while?'

  'Yes. I need information for form-filling. And I meant what I said about the wedding,' he added as he followed her upstairs. 'My parents are due back tomorrow. I'd rather they, at least, knew straight away, before I put the announcement in the local paper.'

  Jo went inside and threw her sweater down on a chair. 'Do we have to go public, Rufus?'

  Rufus nodded, then strolled after her to lean in the kitchen doorway, arms folded as he watched her fill a kettle. 'Let's observe the conventions as much as possible.'

  Jo looked at him over her shoulder. 'In that case I suppose it would look odd if I didn't go to Rory's wedding.'

  'Precisely.' Rufus moved towards her and turned her round. 'But quite apart from that I'd very much like you to come with me.'

  She looked up at him. 'You know, I take it, why I'm not keen on the idea?'

  'Because you haven't been to a wedding since you were bridesmaid to Claire, I imagine.' His eyes held hers. 'This is the first since then for me too.'

  Jo gave in. 'All right. I'll come. Now let's have something to eat. I'm hungry.'

  He grinned. 'After that enormous lunch you tucked away at your mother's? Where do you put it all?'

  'I think the appetite comes with the territory,' she said tartly. 'In popular parlance, Mr Grierson, I'm eating for two.' She turned away and began rummaging in a cupboard. 'I've got some prawns. Do you like those? I could make a salad with the stuff Mother gave me from her garden. And she gave me a fruitcake too.'

  'If I'd thought you were that hungry I'd have taken you for a meal on the way back!'

  Jo shook her head as she began washing lettuce. 'No need.' She looked up. 'Unless you'd have preferred that?'

  'No, I wouldn't,' he said emphatically. 'You may have difficulties in adjusting to me as your husband, Jo, but it's getting easier every day to imagine you as my wife.'

  Sudden heat coursed along Jo's veins, and in confusion she turned away to toss the salad with some of her mother's speci
al dressing. She drained the prawns and added them with an unsteady hand, then sliced a crusty loaf, clumsier than usual because Rufus was watching every move she made.

  When they were seated at the table, with the salad bowl and a platter of cheese and bread between them, Jo drew in a deep breath.

  'Before we eat there's something I must make clear, Rufus.'

  He raised an eyebrow in polite inquiry. 'What is it?'

  'You have to give me time to get used to all this.' She coloured. 'I'm not saying—I dislike you. Believe me, I wouldn't even contemplate marrying you if I did, baby or no baby—'

  'No need to go on, Jo. You're saying that you've agreed to marry me solely because you're going to be the mother of my child, not from any yen to become my wife.' He helped himself to salad. 'I understand what you're saying. I won't make any rash, male assumptions.'

  'Right.' Jo smiled brightly. 'Now what information did you want?'

  'Oh, just basic things—full name, date of birth and so on,' he said casually. 'This dressing is superb.'

  'Mother's trade secret.'

  'I like your mother.'

  'Good.' Jo grinned. 'Since she kissed you goodbye today one must assume she reciprocates. Mother's like me—not much into kissing.'

  Rufus' eyes dropped to her mouth. 'Pity,' he said lightly. 'Are you fond of leftover salad for breakfast, or may I polish it off?'

  After supper Rufus took out a diary and sat, pen poised, while Jo provided him with details of her birth. He wrote them down, then looked up. 'First name. Are you Josephine or Joanna?'

  Jo cast her eyes skywards. 'Neither. My father taught classics, remember. I'm Jocasta.'

  Rufus whistled. 'Jocasta, no less!' He grinned. 'I don't know why you're so hung up on marrying your friend's husband. Your namesake married her own son!'

  'Only by mistake,' she retorted. 'I loved my father dearly, but why Mother let him have his way about naming us I'll never know. The twins are Thalia and Calypso, poor things, but at least Callie and I can shorten ours. You can't do much with Thalia.'

  'True. What shall we name ours?'

  Jo's eyes widened. 'Glory, I don't know. I hadn't got that far. Something ordinary and unmythical for preference.'