The Second Bride (11 page)

'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 special 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.'

'Do you have another name?'

'No. Jocasta was more than enough.'

Rufus surveyed her lazily. 'I think it suits you. Perhaps I'll call you Jocasta from now on.'

"Then the deal's off,' she said promptly.

'In which case I'll wait until we're legally married.' Rufus got up. 'Are you working much this week?'

'No.
I've got
a
fortnight
off.'
Jo looked up at him ruefully. 'But under the circumstances I suppose I'd better tell Phil I'm not going back at all.'

Rufus reached down and pulled her to her feet. 'I'm glad you came to that decision by yourself. It's been occupying my mind rather a lot.'

She smiled. 'How forbearing of you not to
pressurise
me! But I'm not sorry to give it up. Now I've got the bit between my teeth I want to finish this book before we get married if I can.'

'Good. I draw the line at a computer in the luggage on our honeymoon!'

'Honeymoon?' Jo stared up at him in astonishment. 'Is that necessary?'

'No. But it's customary. For obvious reasons I'd rather our marriage presented itself as the normal kind to the world at large.' Rufus held her by the shoulders. 'Look on a honeymoon as a therapeutic exercise—a means to get used to being married before we actually set up house together. Any preferences?'