Substitute Bride (4 page)

Flinging open the kitchen door, she was startled and embarrassed to find Rick Conway slowly removing his mouth from Blanche's, in what had obviously been a very pleasurable kiss. He had his arms about her and was kissing her in a lazy, teasing fashion, while again his hands caressed her bare back. Emma gulped, feeling her face go red. No man had ever touched her like that. There was something very intimate in the way Rick's fingers were moving over bare flesh. What did he think he was doing?

Her cheeks so hot she could scarcely bear them, Emma hid her punishing discomposure beneath scorn, letting it show clearly in her cool grey eyes as they clashed with Rick's.

Lifting his head, he met Emma's silent disgust head on.

Anger flared for an instant in the darkness of his face and his hands tightened until Blanche, not realising the cause of it, squealed in protest.

Without waiting to say helo, Emma turned quickly, stumbling back into the kitchen. As she did so she heard Blanche say coldly that she didn't like being mauled and would go upstairs and fetch a coat.

Emma, feeling irrationaly, like someone who had ran a great distance and was quite out of breath, was about to colapse weakly on to a chair when the door behind her snapped open and two hands yanked her ruthlessly to her feet. Swiftly she was turned to face the man who held her.

'Don't ever look at me like that again, young lady!' Rick snarled, puling her without warning towards him.

She saw his mouth swooping downwards, but could do nothing to avoid it. It took her unawares and her last breath away with it. His hold on her was savage, renewing her former suspicions that he enjoyed hurting her, but this time he used actions as well as words, which hurt even more.

Although his hands didn't stray his mouth did. She could have sworn that for all his ferocious beginning he had meant to treat her lightly, but when he drew back, after touching her lips briefly, his mouth suddenly descended again, this time to crush hers relentlessly.

Instinctively, as molten flames began pouring through her, she tried to push him away, but his arms merely tightened about her, putting a decisive end to her struggles. She could feel the heat emanating from him and her whole body went limp with shock, yet when she put her hands up to push him away, she found them clinging instead to the hard strength of his broad shoulders. His voice was deep as he muttered incomprehensibly against her throbbing lips, and she felt her senses flare with what she refused to acknowledge as something very like desire. Shuddering beneath his brutal expertise, she tried to stop thinking, but as his determined assault continued her fair head was bent back, until she feared her slender neck might break before he released her.

For a long, hateful moment, when he did, they stared at each other, and she saw his eyes had changed and darkened while his breath came harshly.

'A man's hands are rather tied when it comes to punishing a woman,' he said curtly, 'but you asked for that.'

'No, I didn't!' Regaining a little composure, she hit back.

'I didn't like the way you were pawing Blanche and I wasn't going to pretend that I did!'

'My God!' his eyes were hard and scornful, 'you're a fine one to talk! You're scarcely in any position to sit in judgment on me. Your friend Rex Oliver told me too much last night, while you and Blanche were upstairs getting ready.'

'You talked about me?' Emma's blood ran cold. 'You had a nerve!'

'It wasn't exactly me who did the talking,' Rick snapped,

'it was your boy-friend, your lover, the man you want to marry but who is—and he swears you know it— trying to shake you off. Hence the reason why he was deliberately late last night. It had nothing to do with Blanche.'

Emma felt her cheeks grow white. 'Rex didn't? He couldn't say that!'

'Oh, come off it, Emma. No need to look so horrified.

You're no innocent virgin and could be older than you look.

I've been enlightened. There's no need to put on an act for me. Poor Blanche, no wonder she's been trying to save you from yourself. Rex, I believe, hasn't been the only man.'

Emma stared and winced. She could do nothing else, yet was puzzled that she didn't denounce Rex and Blanche right away. But her hands were tied, weren't they? If she tried to defend herself there wouldn't be a wedding. It was as simple as that, and the repercussions of such a cancelation would be on her own head. Why not let Rick Conway believe what he had been told? After the wedding she needn't see him again, so what did it matter what he thought of her? It probably wouldn't make any difference to her reputation.

Plenty of girls slept around these days and no one appeared to think anything of it.

'I can look after myself,' she said at last, lowering tormented eyes so he wouldn't see her pain.

'I realise you can, if to begin with you had me fooled,' he returned tightly. 'If Rex hadn't spiled the beans it would have dawned as I danced with you. I knew then you were no prim teenager. The way you moved against me was provocative, to say the least. It had every bone in my body crying for release. If I'd had the chance, there and then you'd have been under me.'

Infuriated, Emma shot her hand out to slap his leering face hard. 'You're—oh, I can't find words bad enough!' she cried helplessly. 'No man's going to speak to me like that. I could be a—a tramp!'

'That's the impression I got,' he grinned contemptuously, as he turned on his heel and left her.

Emma didn't see Rick again before he departed for Australia. For once she was grateful to be left out of the family's social activities. As soon as she heard he was gone she told both her aunt and cousin she had no wish to attend the forthcoming wedding. Hilda, obviously thinking this would mean less expense, replied smoothly that it might be as wel, as someone would have to stay and look after the farm. They couldn't all be away.

The calculating swiftness with which Hilda provided her with an excuse might, at any other time, have hurt, but Emma was only aware of relief. She had no wish to see Rick Con way married, to her cousin or anyone else— not after all he had said and done! Not only had he treated her badly, he had spoken to her as she suspected no man spoke to a woman for whom he had any respect.

Every nerve in her body still trembled with resentment each time she remembered. If she had been able to give herself the satisfaction of straightening him out, it might have been worth it, if only to have seen his face. This she had to deny herself, both for Blanche's sake and, Emma was secretly ashamed to admit, her own. To get rid of Blanche, not to have her constantly around with her spiteful tongue and endless commands, was surely worth a little sacrifice of pride and self-respect. Somehow she managed to ignore the whisper inside her which suggested the cost was too great.

What did she care what an arrogant sugar plantation owner thought of her? She'd be the biggest fool on earth if she did.

It was just over a week later that Blanche burst into her bedroom. 'Mother's out,' she said, without preamble, 'I have to talk to you.'

Emma, busy mending a pair of the woolen socks she wore on the farm, glanced up frowning. Blanche's face wore an expression which was not unfamiliar. She was intensely an expression which was not unfamiliar. She was intensely excited about something. Just what was she up to? Usualy Emma was left to guess, but she was nervous rather than gratified that, this time, Blanche apparently wanted to confide in her. Something warned her that she wasn't going to like what was coming.

Despite the haste with which Blanche had descended on her cousin, she appeared in no great hurry to unburden herself. She stroled to the window and stared out at the roling downs which were so much a feature of the South Country. They weren't far from London, but no one could have guessed as the farm was lonely and isolated.

'You're back early today, aren't you?' When Blanche didn't speak, Emma made an effort to find out what all the agitation was about. She had no desire to be on the receiving end of Blanche's confidences and she wished the other girl had waited until her mother returned.

Blanche swung around, at the sound of Emma's voice, as though her mind was quite made up. 'I'm going to Paris for a few days. With Rex,' she enlarged coldly, defying Emma to query it.

Emma was too bewildered to say anything immediately, but the shocked apprehension in her eyes said it for her. She just blinked at Blanche and swalowed.

'I'm not a child, Emma,' Blanche exclaimed tartly, reading things in Emma's face she didn't care for. 'I know what I'm doing, so you needn't start asking what about Rick. He doesn't have to know a thing about it.'

'But—why?' Emma whispered, horrified. 'I mean, you're about to be married. And what if Rick does find out? What then?'

'He won't.'

'How can you be so sure?' Emma's voice was stiff with disapproval. 'Besides, it's not fair!'

'Shut up, you sanctimonious little saint!' Blanche was suddenly spitting venom. 'You don't know Rick. Once we're married he'll come down with a heavy hand. His wife will have to toe the line in every way, both in bed and out. He's not realy the lazy, sardonic character you might think he is.'

Colouring vividly at Blanche's over-candid remarks, Emma chose to ignore what she considered the worst of them. Neither Rick nor Blanche had any qualms about embarrassing her, but it annoyed her nearly as much that they could so easily make her blush. 'If you feel this way about Rick, why marry him, for heaven's sake?'

'Haven't I told you before?' Blanche chaffed impatiently.

'Freedom from work, all that lovely sunshine and money, but you can believe he'll demand his money's worth!'

'You don't have to force me, I'm quite convinced,' Emma retorted dryly, recaling with a tremor the powerful littleness of Rick Conway's body, the decisive lines etched on his face.

'Yet money isn't everything, Blanche. Neither is a life of leisure, I shouldn't think.'

'I shan't complain,' Blanche sneered.

'I still don't understand how you can even consider marrying him when you love Rex.'

'Are you crazy?' Blanche cried. 'I certainly don't harbour any tender feelings for Rex. I'm attracted to him, that's al, and he's helped me a lot with my career.'

There was a lot here which was beyond her. Emma felt hopelessly inadequate as she gazed at her cousin. How did one even begin to deal with such a problem—if Blanche's imminent betrayal of her fiancé could be classed as such.

One thing was quite obvious, Blanche wasn't looking for advice, good or otherwise. All the same, Emma tried to give some. 'Why not forget about Rex and concentrate on Rick's wealth?' Blanche had always been greedy. 'I'm sure he intends giving you a good time, and I don't think he regards you as a business proposition at al. In fact he did say he hasn't looked at another woman since he met you.'

'All of three months ago!' Blanche's mouth, a little on the thin side, curled.

'On an island like Barbados, surely that must prove that he cares for you. There must be plenty of lovely women, enough temptation?'

'I know perfectly well what there is on Barbados,'

Blanche snapped, 'but he doesn't stay there all the time. He has other places in the Caribbean. One island in particular is completely isolated and he enjoys staying there for months on end. That's probably where he's been the last three months, avoiding temptation. There, I've been told, he often supervises the work personaly, but if he thinks I'm going to bury myself there for weeks on end, he can think again!'

'It must be because he's interested in what he's doing there,' Emma suggested reasonably. 'I can't somehow imagine him doing anything he didn't want to do.'

'Don't ask me,' Blanche retorted sharply. 'It can't have missed your avid little ears that I scarcely know Rick at al.

Sometimes I wonder if he'll suit me. I've heard a rumour that he's a very sensuous man.'

'Then if I felt that way, I wouldn't marry him!' Emma made an effort to emulate Blanche's disconcerting frankness.

'I would simply tell him I'd changed my mind.'

'You wouldn't say that if you had a chance of marrying him,' Blanche mocked.

'You seem determined to throw yours away.'

'No, I don't,' Blanche replied smugly. 'I certainly intend being Mrs Rick Conway, but I also intend having a last fling, first, even if it kils me.'

'Supposing Rick does?'

'He won't find out, not if you promise to help me.' . 'Me?'

Wild fright tore through Emma's young breast as she visualised being on the receiving end of Rick's anger. Already she'd had one sample of his quick fury, she didn't want another!

Blanche ignored her protests as she had been doing for years. Emma couldn't expect her not to. 'All I'm asking you to do,' she said coldly, 'is to tell Rick, if he rings, that I'm visiting my aunt Helen, who we all know doesn't have the phone in. I'm taking Mother there tomorrow to stay with her for a few days as she hasn't been well and can't come to the wedding. So if Rick were to check in that direction, and I don't imagine for a moment he wil, it wouldn't occur to him to check which of us was actualy staying with Aunt Helen.'

Amazed at Blanche's barefaced duplicity, Emma exclaimed, 'What if Rick asks your mother about it, when he gets back?'

'Don't worry—he won't. Why should he?' Blanche, supremely confident, shrugged her shoulders. 'To make sure, I'll have a word with Mother later. She won't let me down.'

'And you're asking me to help deceive Rick, too?'

'Oh, come off it!' Blanche sneered with exasperation. 'Is there any need to be so dramatic? Why not pretend you have no wish to see him hurt, if it's your conscience that's worrying you? I'm sure if you look at it that way it won't be too difficult. You were always a charitable little thing.'

'I—I still don't know…'

'Wel, tell him the truth—any damn thing you like!'

Blanche flung out of the bedroom in a fury. 'Tell him what suits you. I don't care. But I'm going to Paris with Rex!'

As the door slammed behind her, Emma blinked at it in an agony of dismay, realising it would be impossible to tell Rick that kind of truth. She knew it and so did Blanche. If Blanche failed to get her own way by what she considered logical argument, she resorted to a craftiness which seldom failed.