Substitute Bride

A sudden spatter of rain struck the car and she heard the swish of the windscreen wipers starting up. Deliberately she tried to lose herself in the details of the weather—the tug of the wind, the rattle of the raindrops, the hiss of the tyres on the wet road—and she was so successful that soon her pretence of dozing became real. Her eyelids fluttered, she gave a shallow sigh and slept.

She was woken by the movement of the car turning off the tarmac onto a dirt road and lurching up a hill. An involuntary cry of surprise escaped her as she realised where she was. James glanced across and spoke in a polite but distant tone, as if he were talking to a stranger rather than a new member of the family.

‘We’re nearly there now. Do you want to get out and look at the view?’

He stopped the car and she climbed out and joined him on the crest of the hill. She uttered a low gasp of admiration as she looked at the panorama spread out before them. It had stopped raining and the sea was a deep cobalt blue, which throbbed and heaved around the distant peaks of a group of islands. The sky was filled with the slanting radiance of the late afternoon sun and the breeze from the ocean brought the tang of salt, mingled with the scent of eucalyptus trees and fresh, damp earth.

‘That’s my house,’ said James.

Laura followed the line of his pointing finger and saw a substantial honey-coloured Georgian building tucked into the lee of the hillside so that it was sheltered from the fierce westerly winds. Around it a splash of vivid green colour marked the limits of the garden and beyond that were paddocks full of golden grass where sheep stood in peaceful groups. One or two even had early lambs frisking beside them.

‘It’s beautiful!’ she exclaimed.

‘I’m glad you think so,’ he replied, with a sardonic lift of his eyebrows. ‘I imagine you’ll be spending a fair bit of time here if Sam has his way. He loves the land, you know. Even though he has agreed to manage the woollen mill in Hobart for me it’s likely that he’ll be up here every chance he gets, dealing with the sheep himself. Are you sure you won’t get bored?’

There was no mistaking his antagonism now. He doesn’t want me to marry his precious nephew one bit, thought Laura indignantly. Or he doesn’t want Bea to many him, which comes to the same thing. He ought to give her…me…a chance!

‘I’ll manage,’ she said coolly. ‘I can always dress up in some fancy clothes and put on a fashion parade for the sheep if I get bored, can’t I?’

He looked at her sharply, as if he were not sure whether she was joking or not. Then, with a grunt of exasperation, he led the way back to the car. They finished the rest of the journey in silence, but in spite of his unmistakable hostility James couldn’t quite overcome his instincts as a host. He carried Laura’s bag in from the car, held the door open for her as she entered the house and showed her into a bedroom which was filled with all the comforts a guest could possibly want. Fresh flowers, tissues, a carafe of water and a tin of biscuits, folded towels, a supply of brightly coloured paperbacks. Yet his voice was still curt when he spoke to her.

‘I hope you won’t mind fending for yourself for a couple of hours. I’m afraid I’ve still got to go and inspect the prize bull that I intended to look at this morning, but I shouldn’t be gone for very long. Just make yourself at home, take a bath, fix a snackwhatever you want to do. I’ll cook a proper meal when I get back.’

Left alone, Laura immediately rushed to the telephone to ring Bea, in the hope of having another consultation about her difficult position, but infuriatingly, although the phone rang and rang, Bea didn’t answer. Trying Sam’s number didn’t help either. All she got there was the answering machine and she left a very terse message on it, instructing Bea to phone her immediately.

After that, she sat down with a groan and ran her hands through her hair. How long was she going to be stranded here? Sometimes in the past airline strikes to Tasmania had gone on for weeks, although in that case the Air Force usually ran an emergency service to get sick people or desperate cases on and off the island. But however desperate Laura might feel, she didn’t think the Air Force would consider her a case for emergency evacuation! Well, that just left the overnight boat ferry. If all else failed, perhaps she could hire a car, drive to Devonport and sail back to the mainland.

That still left her with the problem of what was going to happen at the wedding. Even if Bea kept her promise and explained the whole masquerade to James, it still left them with the awkward situation of staging a wedding where the bridegroom’s uncle might well murder the bride and the chief bridesmaid. Which Laura couldn’t help feeling would cast a damper over the proceedings.

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and shuddered. Why had she ever let Bea talk her into this? Still, there was nothing to be gained by sitting around brooding about it. She might as well accept James’s rather grudging invitation and take a look at the place.

It was certainly the kind of house to appeal to her, she decided after a leisurely tour, even if Bea would probably complain that it looked like a museum. All the rooms were graciously proportioned, with carved wooden mantelpieces, lovingly polished antique furniture and dazzling views over the ocean or the hills to the west. Even so, some discreet remodelling had taken place to supply each of the five bedrooms with its own en suite bathroom and to provide a kitchen and laundry that had a colonial look but that still concealed the most up-to-date appliances.

Realising she was hungry, Laura opened the refrigerator and found a tempting array of goodies. Smoked salmon, paté, cold meat, a variety of cheeses, vegetables, eggs, a chicken, a bowl of unshelled prawns. She was just about to take out the ingredients for a ham sandwich when a sudden thought struck her. Why not start cooking dinner herself?

With James’s disturbing presence temporarily removed, her antagonism was beginning to ebb away and she felt more like her usual self. Calm, sensible, anxious to smooth things over. Even that long, sultry, assessing look he had given her when they first met seemed more and more a product of her own fevered imagination. Probably the truth was that he was simply a conscientious uncle, worried that Sam and Bea were embarking on marriage too soon. And if that was the case, it was up to her to try and placate him.

She must do all that she could to show him that she and Bea were both mature, reliable people. And what better way than by pampering him a bit? He would be tired when he came in from inspecting the bull and it was hardly likely that he would really want to make a meal. Of course, he might feel that she was intruding, but on the other hand he had invited her to help herself to a snack. And perhaps it would even soften him up for the moment when they made their final confession. Humming to herself, she lifted out the dish of prawns…

* * *

‘That was an excellent meal,’ admitted James as he drained the last of his coffee with a sigh of satisfaction.

Laura looked at the table with a touch of complacency. Avocado filled with prawns in a seafood dressing had been followed by a stuffed roast chicken with Greek baked potatoes, zucchini and tomatoes and an apple crumble with cinnamon topping and whipped cream. James had opened a bottle of Houghton’s white burgundy and they had brewed fresh coffee to complete the meal. The conversation had gone well too, and she had seen the surprised flash of respect in his eyes when she had made a casual remark about government agricultural policy.

Although they were still fencing with each other, she thought she detected a softening in his initial antagonism towards her. And, rather reluctantly, she had to admit that she found him very interesting company.

‘Would you like some more coffee?’ she asked.

‘All right,’ he agreed, rising to his feet. ‘Why don’t you bring it into the living room? I’m going to set a match to the fire in there.’

As he spoke a sudden, sharp gust of wind set the windowpanes rattling, and a spatter of drops struck against the glass. Striding across the room, James closed the cedar shutters firmly, shutting out the gathering darkness and rain. It was a simple action and yet it made Laura feel odd—as if they were holing up together in some snug, little lair and turning their backs on the outside world. There was something alarming about the idea of drawing close to a hissing, crackling orange fire with James Fraser while a storm raged and buffeted outside.

Suddenly she became aware that he was watching her through narrowed eyes and she dropped her gaze self-consciously. Her heart raced and she no longer felt so certain that she had imagined that sensual glance he had given her earlier in the day. What if he really was wondering what it would be like to take off her clothes and lay her down on the sheepskin rug in the firelight? Bea had once told her that she had a very expressive face, but she hoped devoutly that that wasn’t true! If her face was expressing half the things she was thinking tonight, she was in big trouble…

‘I’ll get the coffee,’ she said, retreating into the kitchen.

When she came into the living room ten minutes later, James was crouched on the hearth, feeding the flames with more substantial lengths of wood. The glow from the firelight made his eyes glitter and highlighted the rugged contours of his face, making him look like some primitive caveman. Suddenly he looked up at her with an expression that made Laura’s breath catch in her throat.

No, she hadn’t imagined that silent, sensual appraisal earlier in the day, for he was doing it again now. And this time she was powerless even to turn her head away. All she could do was stare at him with her lips half parted and her shoulders tensed as if to ward off danger.

Before he went out to inspect the bull, he had changed into denim jeans and an open-necked flannel shirt which was now rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms spiked with dark hair that glowed bronze in the firelight. As he rose to his feet, still trapping her in that mesmerising gaze, she felt again that she was a waif, a stray, an outcast seeking shelter in a hostile world. And it didn’t seem at all likely that this threatening stranger was going to take pity on her.

The cup clattered in its saucer as she handed it to him.

He added sugar, stirred the coffee and drank it down without ever taking his eyes off her. Then he reached behind him and set the empty china on the mantelpiece.

‘Tell me something,’ he said harshly. ‘What’s the real truth behind all this?’

CHAPTER TWO

LAURA’S stomach gave a sickening lurch and she stared at him in alarm, momentarily diverted from her unwelcome attraction to him. Obviously he had guessed that she wasn’t Bea and now he wanted an explanation. Well, the only thing she could do was to give him one, apologise abjectly and leave as soon as possible. She only hoped that he wouldn’t take his anger out on her sister once he learnt what they had done.

‘Look, I can see you’ve realised that something is seriously wrong,’ she began awkwardly. ‘You must feel that I’m here under false pretences, but I—’

‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ he cut in. ‘After all, Sam is legally an adult and he has a perfect right to marry you. I also know from his telephone conversations that he’s head over heels in love with you. What worries me is what you’re hoping to get out of it, Bea.’

Bea. So he hadn’t guessed at all. Laura’s wildly beating heart slowly subsided to its normal rhythm, although she still felt shaken. She stared at James in dismay, feeling as if her brain had turned to cotton wool. What on earth was she supposed to say now?

‘There’s no need to look at me as if I’m an executioner!’ he continued impatiently. ‘It’s just that if you’re marrying Sam, I want to know more about you. And for heaven’s sake tell me the truth!’

‘What do you mean?’ blurted out Laura.

‘I mean, what do you want out of life? What motivates you? What’s your greatest need?’

Something in the urgency of his voice mesmerised her, so that she was unable to lie. A wry smile twisted her lips as she gazed into the dark tunnel of her past. Memories came crowding back to her—of the first frozen grief after her mother’s death, her dogged determination to look after Bea and not be parted from her, her decision that she would work hard and be responsible and make a future for them both. She gave a faint, mirthless whisper of laughter.

‘Security,’ she said.

She saw a brief flash of hostility in James’s eyes, but he nodded his head.

‘Well, that’s honest at all events,’ he retorted. ‘And marrying is certainly one way of getting it. But these days most girls train for a career as well, just in case Mr Wonderful doesn’t show up. Were you so certain of your charms that you didn’t feel the need to train for anything?’

Laura flinched.

‘I did!’ she exclaimed hotly. ‘I—’

She broke off, remembering too late that she was supposed to be Bea.

‘You did what, exactly?’

‘I studied horticulture for a while.’

‘So you have a diploma?’ he demanded.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I dropped out,’ she said, with a defiant lift of her chin.

‘I see. And what did you do then? Start looking round immediately for a rich husband?’

‘No!’ flared Laura, distractedly trying to remember exactly what Bea had done. There had been a period on the dole, a brief job as a croupier in a casino and a year on a working holiday, where the work had been mostly making beds in motels or waitressing in crummy cafés. Hastily she decided not to mention any of that. ‘I got a job in a dress shop and then they asked me to do some catwalk modelling and suddenly my career took off. It was just luck, really.’

‘You rely a lot on luck, don’t you?’ said James in a hard voice. ‘As far as I can see, it was also just luck that Sam fell in love with you. Are you going to depend on luck to make your marriage work too?’

His sarcasm was so burning that Laura felt shrivelled by it. For several moments she looked at him in dismay, unable to find any sensible answer. At last she dropped her gaze, unable to offer any adequate defence.

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ she whispered.

‘I don’t hate you,’ he snapped. ‘I simply think that you’re young and naïve and capable of doing a great deal of harm. What’s more, I’d like to make you think before it’s too late. You’re…how old? Twenty-three? And Sam’s twenty-four! Well, to me you seem very young, and from all I’ve heard about you you’re also very immature. I simply don’t think it’s a good idea for you to rush into marriage. In my opinion you should wait until you’re older and until you’ve known each other longer. You don’t have the experience to see the pitfalls of what you’re doing, but I do.’

‘What pitfalls?’ demanded Laura.

To her dismay he stepped forward and seized her by the shoulders. The room seemed to spin around her and for one wild moment she stood motionless, trapped by the hypnotic golden intensity of his gaze. A shameful rush of desire surged through her at his touch, so hot and raw and primitive that she was shocked by it. Try as she might, she could not shut out her unbearable awareness of his masculinity, of the heat and power and size of him as he loomed above her. His fingers bit into her flesh, making her feel soft and boneless. She took a shallow, fluttering breath and fought down an insane urge to wind her arms around his neck and lift her parted lips to his.

Darting him a panicky glance from under half closed eyelids, she saw that he was fully aware of her response to him. Not only that, but he clearly revelled in it. The amusement that curled his lips sent a hot flush of embarrassment flooding into her cheeks. Why was he doing this? Did he feel an equal measure of desire for her? Or was he simply trying to make a fool of her?

‘Let’s start with the pitfalls of attraction to another man,’ he murmured tauntingly. ‘You’re so young and impressionable. What will you do, Bea, when you find yourself uncontrollably attracted to somebody else, as I’m sure you will?’

The way he had drawled the words ‘somebody else’ left her in no doubt of his meaning. That hoarse, smoky baritone was so blatantly suggestive that she could have slapped his face. How could he humiliate her like this, especially when he thought she was about to marry Sam? And why did he have to degrade her so pitilessly by gloating over her reaction to him? Didn’t he have any compassion at all? And how could she still feel this treacherous yearning for him, when she resented him so much?

Suddenly Laura lost her temper, and her anger with herself was transformed into fury with James. Breaking free of his hold, she stepped back a pace and glared at him.

‘You pompous brute!’ she shouted and then paused, struggling incoherently for speech. She couldn’t tell him the truth—that she despised him for his prejudice towards Bea and for the insulting way he was playing sexual games with her. But she could, and would, tell him what she thought of his own attitudes and values! Who was he to lay down the law to her when his own love life was nothing to be proud of?

She took a deep breath and her words came out in an angry torrent. ‘I may be young, but I’m not stupid. And where has your precious wisdom and experience got you? Just tell me that! You must be at least thirty-five years old, but you’re not happily married, are you? So what use was all your caution to you? If you ask me, the best thing you can do in relationships is to trust your instincts, close your eyes and jump! All right, you might get hurt, you might even hurt somebody else. But at least you’ll be alive and feeling and breathing and knowing what it means to be in love, not just playing it safe. In my opinion, you’re the one who’s naïve if you think you can get a guarantee of happiness just by refusing to take any risks!’

Her own vehemence astonished her, and she tried to tell herself that she was only expressing Bea’s philosophy of life, but that didn’t seem to explain why her outburst had left her so agitated. She saw that James was staring at her with mild amazement and she folded her arms around her body and took deep, calming breaths. Too late, she realised how heated she had been and a pang of guilt went through her.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that,’ she muttered. ‘I’m a guest in your house and it was very rude. Please forgive me.’

He shrugged, as if her outburst hadn’t troubled him in the least. Her stinging attack on his own way of life seemed to have left him completely unmoved. The faint, flickering smile on his lips didn’t waver for an instant as he returned her gaze. Then he spoke in a measured tone, as if he were thinking aloud.

‘There’s just one thing that puzzles me about you, Beatrice. You virtually admitted to me earlier that you weren’t in love with Sam and that you were only concerned with security, and yet you’ve just treated me to a passionate outburst in favour of falling in love and taking risks in relationships. Isn’t that rather a contradiction? Can you explain it to me?’

Laura’s mouth opened and closed as if she were a stranded goldfish. Yes, it was a contradiction, although she probably could explain it if she simply told the truth. All she had to say was a few, simple sentences. Bea is in love with Sam, but I’m not. I care about security, but she doesn’t. She believes in taking risks, but I don’t. When I was shouting so passionately about love, I was simply being her mouthpiece, saying what she’d say if she were here. Or was I? Is it possible that I really believe all that stuff about risk-taking myself deep down? She stared at James with a stricken expression, appalled by this moment of self-discovery.

‘The truth is that there are times when I don’t even know what I want myself,’ she muttered, dropping her eyes. ‘Times when I don’t even know who I really am.’

She found that he was towering over her again and that his hand was lifting her chin, forcing her to look at him, forcing her to see the strange, fierce expression in his tawny eyes. His thumb touched her cheekbone, caressing the skin in a slow whorl as he looked down at her.

‘Then I think you ought to find out before you get married next week,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Don’t you?’

Every nerve in her body seemed to jangle as she felt anew that hot, unwelcome thrill of physical attraction towards him. It would be easy, fatally easy to let herself sway forward against him and find herself caught in his crushing embrace. The silence between them lengthened and she felt almost certain that James was experiencing the same aching, primitive sense of need that was disturbing her so profoundly. But she felt equally certain that this was nothing but a game to him. Angrily she jerked herself free of his touch.

‘Look, what’s it got to do with you?’ she demanded.

He caught her by the wrist, swinging her back to face him.

‘Plenty,’ he snapped. ‘I like Sam a lot and I don’t want him being made unhappy by some twitty little girl in ridiculous clothes who doesn’t even know what she wants.’

‘Ridiculous clothes?’ echoed Laura incredulously, glancing down at Bea’s long striped cardigan. ‘Oh, so that’s what this is about, is it? It’s just blind, simple prejudice. You disapprove of me because I’m a model, don’t you?’

‘That’s ridiculous! If I disapprove of you, it’s because I suspect you’re unstable and likely to skip out of this marriage at the first sign of difficulty.’

All Laura’s old insecurities came rushing back and she felt the blood surge into her cheeks in a burning rush.

‘You’re only saying that because of the background I come from!’ she shouted accusingly. ‘Just because I grew up in foster homes, you don’t think I can sustain a stable marriage.’

‘That’s utter rubbish! I wasn’t even thinking about that!’

‘You were!’ cried Laura, her voice rising and growing more rapid. ‘I know you were! You think I’m not good enough for Sam, don’t you? Your family is rich and respectable and important and nobody ever gets divorced in it, so you don’t think I’m good enough to be allowed in the door, do you?’

James glared at her.

‘I didn’t say that!’ he retorted in exasperation. ‘Anyway, who said my family never got divorced? Sam’s father Adrian is divorced, I’m divorced, and the only reason my sister Wendy isn’t divorced is because she never bothered to marry any of her lovers.’

Laura felt an odd prickling sensation that was a mixture of pain and relief at the news that James was divorced. For some ridiculous reason it hurt her to know that he had ever been married, and yet she couldn’t help feeling absurdly glad that the marriage was definitely over. And then she saw the grim twist to his lips, the harsh etching of the lines around his mouth—was it over for him?

‘Are you divorced? Why?’

‘That’s none of your damned business! It’s irrelevant anyway, and I don’t know why I even mentioned it. It happened years ago and I’ll never be fool enough to get married again. I was simply making the point that—’

‘Oh, I see!’ she interrupted. ‘You’re disillusioned with marriage, so you have to try and turn everyone else off it too. What right do you have to tell me that I’m frivolous and selfish and that I’ll skip out at the first sign of difficulty? You know nothing about me!’

His face darkened.

‘I know you’re planning to marry Sam for financial security and I know there’s a hell of a lot more to marriage than that. If you think a big house in Sandy Bay is going to make you happy, little girl, you’ve got a lot of growing up to do!’

‘Don’t you “little girl” me!’ shouted Laura. ‘If you think that because you’ve bought us a house you can be the power broker in our marriage, well, you can forget it! We don’t need your house and we won’t take it. I’ll tell Sam to refuse it. We’ll buy our own damned house.’