The Second Bride (16 page)

Surely he knew why she'd responded so joyously? 'Thank you for providing excuses,' she said drily. 'But that had worn off by three in the morning, Rufus. What's the matter?' she added. 'You look worried.'

'It didn't strike
ine
until I woke up this morning— with you in my arms, incidentally—that I forgot about the baby.'

Jo sat suddenly motionless, her face drained of expression. 'Ah, yes, the baby. The reason why we are here in this extraordinary situation in the first place.' She shrugged. 'All seems to be well, I think.' Her eyes glittered coldly to cover her hurt. 'But since you're so concerned for the safety of your child I suggest we keep firmly to our own beds in future.'

She slid out of bed, ignored the nightgown on the floor, and made for the bathroom without haste, well aware that her husband's eyes were riveted to her nude, slender back until she closed the door behind her.

Traffic
was too heavy for much conversation on the journey out of London, for which Jo was profoundly grateful. All through breakfast she'd kept up a steady flow of small talk over the morning papers, and Rufus, after one or two firmly rebuffed attempts to turn the conversation to more personal matters, responded with cool courtesy, other than remonstrating with her for eating nothing. With a bright smile she blamed a slight hangover for her lack of appetite, told him never to mention lobster and champagne in her hearing again, and went off to pack.

Jo felt so miserable as they headed down the motorway that she
apologised
politely for her poor company, and announced she'd try and doze a little. After which Rufus drove in complete silence until they were on the outskirts of Pennington, when he touched her hand, telling her they were almost home.

'You look very pale,' he said, frowning, as they drew up outside the house in Beaufort Crescent.

'I do feel a bit seedy,' she admitted. 'I shouldn't have let myself doze. I always feel worse afterwards.'

Rufus unlocked the front door, then picked her up. 'It's tradition to carry the bride over the threshold,'
he said tersely as she stared at him in surprise. 'But in this case I think it's very necessary. You look ghastly, Jo.'

One look in her dressing-table mirror proved he was right when Rufus, panting slightly, set her on her feet
in
her new bedroom. 'If you don't mind I think I'll try out my beautiful new bed,' she said, and sat down abruptly on the edge of it.

Rufus looked down at her, frowning again, then slid off her shoes and unbuttoned the jacket of the new suit he'd bought for her only the day before. Dismayed to find she lacked the energy to help, Jo made no protest as he removed her silk shirt and the crimson wool skirt.

'Can you manage the rest yourself?' he asked, a pulse throbbing at the corner of his mouth.

Jo nodded dumbly.

Rufus strode to the door. 'I'll come back in a minute and see how you are. I'll make some tea.'

'Thank you,' she whispered, feeling worse by the minute.

Jo's fingers were like a set of ten thumbs as she took off her underwear, then slid naked under the brand-new lace-edged covers, desperate to lie down. If this was morning sickness, she thought irritably, its timing was a bit out. She looked up as Rufus came into the room with her suitcases.

'Could you fish out my dressing gown and a nightdress, please?' she asked him. "They're in the smaller one.'

Rufus complied in silence. 'Can you manage?' he said shortly.

Jo shook her head unhappily. 'Sorry to be so feeble, but I don't think I can. I feel giddy—and I need to go to the bathroom.'

Rufus sat her upright, slid a nightgown over her head, then helped her out of the bed. Jo leaned against him for support, feeling sweat break out on her forehead. Without a word Rufus picked her up,
carried her to the bathroom, waited outside for as long as necessary, then carried her back to the bed and laid her against the pillows.

'Sorry to be a nuisance,' she said, with an effort. 'I'll try not to make it a habit.'

He drew the covers over her, looking grim. 'Lie still. I'll bring you some tea.'

'Thank you.'

Jo lay very still indeed, so afraid to move that she breathed shallowly, dismayed to feel her whole body dewed with perspiration. Then pain struck, low in her stomach, and she groaned and sank her teeth into her bottom lip, panting.

'Jo
—what is it?' said Rufus in consternation as he came into the room. He dumped the tray on the dressing table and crossed the room in a couple of strides.

'Pain,' gasped Jo, and waved a hand at her stomach. 'Feel sick. Help me—sit—up.'

When Rufus
manoeuvred
her gingerly to a sitting position, Jo promptly fainted dead away in his arms. She regained consciousness to the sound of his frantic voice calling her name, and tried to smile up into his haggard face.

'Pain in my stomach,' she got out with difficulty. 'I feel sick too.' Her eyes widened as pure agony clutched her like a vice.

Rufus laid her back with shaking hands and snatched at the telephone on the bedside table. 'I'll call the doctor!'

Dimly, through waves of sheer pain, she heard Rufus explaining that his wife was about six weeks pregnant and in great pain, then he rang off and
dialled
again, this time for an ambulance.

'Ambulance?
Rufus,
I don't need—-' Then more agony cut off her protests and Jo was engulfed in a nightmare of pain which seemed to last for an unbearably long time until the doctor arrived, followed a minute or two later by two paramedics in green uniforms. Rufus helped her answer several personal questions while she was secured to a stretcher and carried down to a waiting ambulance, where a drip was attached to her arm with
despatch
.

'Am I losing the baby?' she gasped, and turned imploring eyes on Rufus, who held her free hand tightly and soothed her in a steady, reassuring voice which belied the look in his eyes as the ambulance sped to Pennington General with blue lights flashing. By the time they arrived the pain was so intense that everything was a blur as Jo was delivered to a team ready and alerted for her arrival, and the last thing she saw was Rufus' haggard white face before the prick of a needle sent her deep into blessed oblivion.

Jo opened her eyes to a small, pretty room, and wondered for a hazy moment if she was in a hotel again. She tried to move a hand and found it was attached to a tube which was dripping blood into her veins. Not a hotel, then.

She closed her eyes again for a minute, then tried to move her other hand with no success. With infinite care she turned her head on the pillow and to her surprise found Rufus asleep in a chair beside the bed, his hand grasping hers so tightly that not even sleep had relaxed it.

Jo looked at him dispassionately. He looked terrible. The olive tint of his skin looked yellowish above the white of his rather creased shirt, and he needed a
shave. And had his hair looked quite so silvery when she saw him last? Jo thought for a moment. When
had
she seen him last? She tried to move and winced.

The discomfort in her stomach brought recollection back in an unwelcome tidal wave, and she closed her eyes to hold back tears which leaked beneath her lashes and slid down her face. She'd lost the baby, obviously. Such a silly way to put it—as though she'd been careless.

'Jo?' said Rufus quietly, and she opened her eyes to the raw pain in his as he leaned forward to look down into her face. 'How do you feel?' He mopped gently at her tears with a tissue.

'Sore,' she croaked.

He nodded, his mouth twisting. 'As well you might.' He looked round as a nurse came into the room.

'Hello, Mrs Grierson,' she said briskly. 'Let me check up on you. Would you like some water?'

Jo nodded, and the nurse propped her up a little on her pillows and held a beaker with a straw to her mouth. Jo swallowed the cool liquid gratefully, and would have liked more, but the nurse shook her head, smiling.

'No more for a while. I'll come back shortly.'

'What time is it?' asked Jo hoarsely, when they were alone.

Rufus looked at his watch. 'Just after ten p.m.'

'When did I get in here?'

'About one. You were operated on immediately, then you were in a recovery room for a while, and this evening they moved you in here.' Rufus ran a hand over his chin. 'Sorry about the stubble. I haven't been home yet.'

Jo looked at him. 'No dinner?'

'No.' He
smiled bleakly.
'I
wasn't hungry.'

She tried to smile back, but tears welled in her eyes instead. Rufus wiped them away again, and she looked at him forlornly.

'I had a miscarriage?'

'No.' His hand tightened on hers. 'Yours was an ectopic pregnancy, Jo. The
fertilised
egg stuck in the Fallopian tube, which ruptured.'

Her pale face whitened alarmingly, and he grasped her hand in alarm. 'What did they do to me?' she said wildly.

'They saved your life,' said Rufus, breathing in unsteadily. 'I know the
gynaecologist
who performed the operation, as it happens. He told me we were very lucky the rupture waited until we arrived back from London.'

'Lucky!' she repeated bitterly. 'Unlucky for you, Rufus. I know how much you wanted the baby.'

'I wanted you alive a hell of a sight more,' he said harshly.

Jo's eyes widened. 'You mean I could have died?'

'You were bleeding profusely into your abdomen. If things hadn't moved so swiftly—' He thrust a hand through his hair, looking ill.

'Go home and get some sleep, Rufus,' she said, mustering as firm a voice as she could. 'I'm obviously fine now—isn't that right, Nurse?' she asked as the woman came back into the room. 'I've just been telling my husband to go home to bed.'

'Good idea. Don't worry,
Mr
Grierson, we'll look after your wife. I'll sit with her tonight, so you get off to bed and come back in the morning. She'll look like a different person by then, I promise.' The nurse smiled at Rufus, who got up reluctantly.

'I suppose you're right. But I'll stay if you want me to,' he said to Jo.

'No. Eat something and get some rest.' She tried to smile. 'Would you ring my mother?'

'I already have. She'll be here tomorrow.' Rufus hesitated, then bent and kissed Jo's dry
hps
. 'Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning.'

'Goodnight.' She looked up into his face. 'You're too tired to drive—take a taxi, Rufus.'

He smiled. 'I'll have to. I came by ambulance, remember?'

Jo smiled back valiantly, but the moment the door closed on him she turned her face into the pillow and wept as though her heart would break.

The nurse mopped her up, and scolded kindly, and after a while Jo stopped crying and asked for another drink, managing to smile when she was promised tea.

'Sorry to be such a misery,' said Jo thickly. 'It's just that. . .'

'I know. But don't worry. Nothing to stop you having another baby.'

Jo brightened. 'Are you
suie?'

'
Mr
Conway will be in to see you in the morning. He'll tell you all you want to know.'

After a restless, uncomfortable night Jo was grateful when the consultant came to visit her quite early next morning. After asking a few questions James Conway examined her, then settled himself on the chair beside her and explained not only what had happened to her, but the exact operation he'd performed.