From Mistresses To Wives?

A hope doomed to failure from the moment of meeting. Cathy Grant placed her immediately.

‘We already met,’ she said as Zac performed introductions. ‘Yesterday at the store.’ The confusion was apparent in both eyes and voice. ‘Have you worked there long?’

Jessica felt rather than saw Zac’s reaction. Her gaze was fixed firmly on Cathy’s face, her smile stiff as a board. ‘A couple of weeks. How’s Gavin?’

‘Oh, fine! He’s staying with his grandparents tonight.’ Cathy was making an obvious effort to put the questions that had to be crowding her mind aside. ‘Ian will introduce you round,’ she added. ‘I just need to check the oven.’

Her husband led them through to a spacious drawing room where two other couples were already ensconced with drinks. Jessica acknowledged introductions without taking in a single name, aware of Zac’s inwardly seething presence at her side. He was too well bred to make a scene in public, of course, but there was going to be hell to pay once he got her alone.

Perhaps sensing the atmosphere between them, Cathy made no further reference to their previous meeting, although the glances she occasionally cast from one to the other reflected her continuing bafflement. Jessica could appreciate her dilemma. Why would the wife of one of the company’s major shareholders find it necessary to take a job in a retail food outlet? If she mentioned it to her husband—and she was almost sure to—then it would no doubt reach Brady’s ears before long. That would really set Zac’s blood on fire!

The evening seemed to go on for ever. Jessica yearned for it to end, yet dreaded what was surely to come. Zac held his tongue in the taxi going home, waiting until they were indoors with the doors closed against the outside world before letting fly.

‘What the hell was all that about working in a supermarket?’ he demanded.

‘It isn’t a supermarket,’ Jessica answered, trying to keep a level head. ‘It’s a rather exclusive emporium catering to the needs of the upwardly mobile classes.’

Zac drew a harsh breath. ‘Don’t try making a joke of this! How do you think it reflects on me to have a wife serving on in a shop?’

Green eyes acquired a spark of their own. ‘There’s nothing demeaning in it,’ she retorted, giving up any idea of pacification. ‘I’m not into that kind of snobbery!’

‘You can call it what you like. The fact remains that you’re doing a job you’re not only over-qualified for, but have no need of to start with!’ Zac was furiously, unnervingly angry, his whole face rigid. ‘Why, for God’s sake? You have your own account, your own cheque book. What on earth could you need the kind of pin money you must be earning at that place for?’

‘It isn’t the money,’ she said. ‘It’s to do with self-respect. I refuse to live off you entirely.’ She paused, hardening her mind against any retreat. ‘You’ll just have to accept it.’

It seemed impossible for his jaw to tauten any further, but it did. ‘There’s no way I’m going to accept it! You don’t go near the place again, do you hear me?’

‘I could scarcely fail to hear you,’ she returned with asperity. ‘And you can whistle! If you don’t like the idea of my working in a shop, find me something you would consider acceptable. As you once said, you have the contacts.’

‘I won’t do that!’

‘Because you’re afraid of losing your grandfather’s respect if he discovers you’re incapable of keeping your wife in her proper place?’ she lashed out. ‘You’re no different from Brady when it all boils down. What you’d really like is for me to get pregnant to put you back on par. Well, abandoning the condoms isn’t going to do it, so you may as well forget it! I wouldn’t bring a baby into this travesty of a marriage for a pension!’

Jessica broke off, aware of having gone a great deal further than ever intended. Zac was looking at her as if he’d never really seen her before. ‘Travesty?’ he said softly.

‘Well, isn’t it?’ she defended. ‘You married me to satisfy a self-centred old man who believes he has a Godgiven right to dictate the way others should live, no other reason. Your grandmother may have been brainwashed into following his every wish, but I refuse to go on paying court to his antediluvian ideas! I’m no docile little housewife, Zac. I have a mind and a brain of my own!’

‘I never had any doubt of it,’ he returned. ‘You knew what you were taking on when you agreed to marry me. Most people would consider you’d made a rather good deal on the whole.’ He shook his head as she made to speak, his face set, his eyes like steel. ‘If it isn’t enough for you, I’ll find you a job, but you don’t go back to this store. Right?’

‘I have to,’ Jessica protested. ‘I’ll need to give notice.’

‘So let them sue. I know someone in PR who’s in need of a new secretary. I’ll give him a ring first thing in the morning and tell him the good news.’

‘How do you know he’ll find me suitable?’ she asked on a somewhat deflated note.

‘He owes me a couple of favours,’ came the crushing reply. ‘Anyway, I’d say you were capable enough.’

Jessica stood in silence as he turned away. She’d made her point, she’d even won her point, so why didn’t she feel any sense of satisfaction with the outcome?

The answer lay in Zac’s demeanour towards her, so changed from the easy manner he usually employed. Not just the fact that she’d gone behind his back to take the job, but the very real probability that Brady would get to hear of it and lose no time in passing on the news to his grandfather. If Henry Prescott ran true to form, it could well result in a changed will. He was certainly capable of it.

For the first time, Zac made no attempt to touch her in any way when they were in bed. He lay on his side facing away from her, an acre of space between them. Jessica fought the urge to tell him she’d changed her mind about having a job. It would be living yet another lie. And for what? There was more to life than the feel of a man’s arms about her.

The interview in Holbourn a few days later proved no more than a formality. Whatever Leo Brent’s true impression of her capabilities, he showed no hesitation in offering her the job. She would be taking over from his present secretary who was leaving at short notice. He didn’t say why the other woman was going, and Jessica didn’t ask. Zac would hardly have put her in line for the job if there’d been anything untoward about the man.

Having heard nothing from the shop, she could only assume that Zac had handled that matter too. She should have held out for a right and proper notice period, she knew, but she had to confess to a secret relief that she hadn’t had to fabricate reasons for leaving after such a short time.

The bedtime stand-off had lasted no more than the one night. Jessica was sorely tempted to tell him to get lost when he drew her into his arms as usual the following night, but with her pulses already galloping, she lacked the strength of mind to carry it through.

Sex might not be the answer to everything, but it certainly helped, she told herself cynically as she composed herself for sleep afterwards. Zac obviously thought so too.

She spent a day learning the ropes from the retiring secretary. The other was to accompany her husband to America where his company was transferring him.

‘I didn’t want to go at first,’ she confessed over lunch. ‘I like the life we have here. Patrick would have turned the job down if I’d insisted, but I couldn’t do that to him. Anyway, it’s only for three years.’ She laughed. ‘Ten to one I’ll not want to come back when the time comes!’

‘Murphy’s law.’ Jessica smiled back. She waited a moment or two before saying casually, ‘What’s Mr Brent like to work for?’

‘Leo,’ the other corrected. ‘He’ll insist you call him that. He’s a nice guy. Divorced four years, but a real pussy-cat of a boss. It was a relief to him when your husband put you up for the job. Meant he didn’t have to carry out any more interviews.’ Her glance was curious. ‘I shouldn’t have thought you’d have need of a job, married to a Prescott.’

‘A whim on my part,’ Jessica told her smilingly.

‘A lasting one, I hope,’ came the candid reply. ‘Leo deserves a little devotion.’

She moved on to other matters after that, leaving Jessica with the impression that there might have been more than one reason for her reluctance to move to America.

It took her less than a week of working for Leo Brent to appreciate her predecessor’s feelings. No more than medium height and looks, with an unruly thatch of fair hair that made him appear younger than his forty-two years, he exuded the kind of benevolent charm most women would find a draw.

He’d met Zac a couple of years before when working on publicity for the Orbis take-over Zac himself had gone out on a limb to promote.

‘Turned out a winner,’ he said with some personal satisfaction. ‘A smack in the eye for that cousin of his who voted against it. Of the two of them, Zac has by far the better business sense. It’s to be hoped he’s the one to take the chair when it comes up for grabs next year.’

Which wouldn’t be likely if Brady inherited all their grandfather’s holdings, Jessica reflected. Henry Prescott’s death may no longer be imminent, but the pressure still existed. It could quite easily be another ten years or more before the man breathed his last. A lifetime, if he continued to hold the same threat over his grandsons’ heads.

If word of her stint in the retail world had reached Brady’s ears, Zac made no mention of it. He made no reference to the job she was doing either. The atmosphere between them was like sitting on a volcano, waiting for something to erupt. When he made love to her it was with passion, but precious little tenderness. Hardly surprising, she supposed, when their whole relationship was based on the former rather than the latter.

‘I’m not sure how long I can stick this for!’ she burst out one night after waiting in vain for some sign of emotional involvement on his part—any sign. ‘I feel like a whore!’

‘Whores rarely experience orgasm,’ came the seemingly unmoved response. ‘If that was acting just now, you made the wrong career move!’

There was a pause, a sudden heavy sigh. He drew her back to him, his kiss soft on her lips. ‘You’re right. I’ve been a boor. How about we agree to differ over the job thing, and start over?’

Jessica didn’t hesitate. Compromise was better by far than warfare. She gave her answer in deed rather than word, rousing him to life again—though this time in far gentler mode.

There was hope for this marriage of theirs yet, she thought in the hazy, lazy aftermath of their love-making, when they lay entwined in each other’s arms. They were closer at this moment in every sense than they had ever been.

Chapter Eight

SARAH’S totally unexpected call the following week coincided with Zac’s overnight trip to France on company business.

‘I thought it time the two of us got to know each other a little better,’ she said. ‘How about lunch tomorrow to start with? I know this little place in Covent Garden that does an absolutely glorious boeuf en croute!’ She laughed. ‘Food becomes all-important when you’re feeding two!’

‘I can imagine,’ Jessica sympathised. She hesitated. ‘You must be getting close now.’

‘Oh, there’s another couple of weeks yet,’ came the airy reply. ‘Probably more. First babies are more often late than early. The men don’t have to know about it. Not yet, anyway. We can spring it on them later when we’re firm friends. It’s about time they stopped feuding themselves.’

Jessica could only agree, though she doubted it happening. She had an hour and a half lunch break, and Covent Garden was easily reached from the office, so there was nothing to stop her from taking up the suggestion.

‘Okay, fine,’ she said.

They arranged to meet at twelve-thirty. Replacing the receiver, Jessica contemplated telling Zac about it if he rang later. However he might feel about Brady, he’d been friendly enough towards Sarah. He could surely have no objection to their seeing one another.

The question was resolved by his failure to make the call. Retiring to bed alone that night for the first time in weeks, she lay wondering what he was doing right now. Subsidiary companies were apt to lay on entertainment for visiting VIPs. For all she knew, he was out on the town with some French woman detailed to give him a good time.

She was being paranoid, and she knew it, but it made little difference. What it all boiled down to was that she still didn’t really trust him when it came to other women.

Sarah was at the restaurant before her. She looked radiant, hair and skin blooming with health and vitality.

‘I expected to feel thoroughly done in by now after carrying Junior around for eight and a half months,’ she declared cheerily when Jessica complimented her on her appearance, ‘but I never felt better! Not that I shan’t be happy to have a waistline again. Maternity clothes leave a lot to be desired in the way of fashion.’

She eyed Jessica with undisguised speculation. ‘You look a bit drained yourself. You wouldn’t, by any chance, be pregnant too?’

‘Not by any chance,’ Jessica denied smilingly.

The speculation increased. ‘You and Zac don’t want children?’

‘Not just yet, at any rate.’

‘That’s not going to put you in favour with Grandfather Henry.’

Jessica viewed the pretty face across the table in some uncertainty. ‘That’s surely not the only reason you and Brady decided to start a family?’

‘Oh, no. We’d no intention of waiting. Brady knew when he married me how much I wanted children. I always did. Ever since I had my first doll.’ She gave the sparkly little laugh again. ‘I can hardly wait to see the little love in the flesh! Scans don’t give all that good a picture. We already named him. Richard Henry Prescott.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m none too keen on the Henry myself, but Brady insisted. The initials aren’t bad at least. RHP—Right Honourable Person. Useful if he becomes Prime Minister.’

‘Very,’ Jessica agreed. She hesitated before saying diffidently, ‘Do you always give way to Brady’s preferences?’

‘Most times,’ came the untroubled answer. ‘He tends to take after his grandfather in many ways, and I’m not one for rocking any boats unnecessarily. Men like to think they’re in charge. Gives their egos a boost. I don’t imagine Zac’s any different.’

Jessica contented herself with a smile and a shrug by way of a reply, not about to be drawn. Zac was strong-minded, true, but far from egotistical.

The food proved to be as good as Sarah had forecast. It was only gradually that Jessica realised the younger girl was simply picking at her plate. The animation had faded, the faint line drawn between her brows an indication of some inner conflict.

‘What is it?’ Jessica asked urgently, seeing the line deepen even as she looked.

The blue eyes lifted to hers were surprisingly serene. ‘I think I may have started,’ she said. ‘I’ve just had a second contraction, about fifteen minutes since the first. Stronger this time too. It might be a good idea if I get out of here before my waters break. It might put the other diners off their meal.’

Jessica lost no time in calling for the bill. She also got the desk to order a taxi. Sarah was booked into a private hospital. By the time they reached the place, the pains were coming every seven minutes.

‘Will you call Brady?’ Sarah requested before she was wheeled away. She handed over her bag. ‘You’ll find his mobile number in the front of my diary if he’s not at the office. Tell him to get here as soon as possible,’ she added, face compressing again as another contraction started. ‘He wants to see the birth.’

The way things were going, it was likely that he was going to miss it, Jessica thought, but she could but try.

She got through to Prescotts on her own mobile, to be told Brady was still out to lunch. While it was likely that his set would be switched off while he was at table, she called the number she had found in the diary, vastly relieved when he answered.

Thankfully, he wasted no time on questions that could be answered later. He was on the other side of town, it appeared, which meant he would have to contend with the midday traffic. Considering what Sarah had said earlier, Jessica wouldn’t have been all that surprised if he’d commanded her to tell his wife to hold the baby back until he got there.

Having done all she could in that direction, she went to see how matters were proceeding. Sarah was already in the delivery room, she was told on reaching the floor. In the absence of a husband to hold the patient’s hand, she was asked if she would like to put on a gown and do the honours herself.

Sarah greeted her appearance with tearful gratitude. ‘It’s all happening so fast!’ she said between contractions almost running together. ‘Brady is going to be so disappointed! You’ll have to tell him every detail, Jessica.’

If she judged correctly, a second-hand account of his son’s first appearance in the world would be the last thing he’d want, Jessica reflected wryly, giving her assurance.

She’d once seen a birth on television, but the real-life experience was infinitely more moving. The hand Sarah was clinging to felt gripped by a vice in those final moments as the baby’s head emerged, yet she was too involved in what was happening to be really conscious of any pain.

There were satisfied smiles and exclamations from the attendant staff when Richard Henry Prescott let out a hearty bawl as he was lifted clear.

‘Nothing wrong with this one’s lungs!’ declared the midwife. ‘A good eight pounds, if I’m not mistaken!’

She proved right within a quarter of a pound. Wrapped in a light blanket, the child was brought back to Sarah, who was now propped up in bed looking amazingly fresh after her ordeal.

‘Isn’t he beautiful?’ she exclaimed, searching the small, perfectly formed features. ‘He looks just like his daddy!’

He did, Jessica was bound to admit. He even sported a shock of dark hair. Like all new born babies, his eyes were blue at present, but they’d no doubt turn grey later. The Prescott genes were not easily overcome.

Looking from child to mother, she felt a stirring of something close to envy. Sarah had no doubts about her marriage. She held the proof of it in her arms.

She stayed with her until Brady arrived, leaving the two of them alone to share their little miracle. Her mobile rang as she made her way down to the reception area. Zac sounded abrupt.

‘Leo says you didn’t come back from lunch. Where the devil are you? It’s gone half-past three!’

‘I’m at the hospital,’ Jessica responded. ‘Sarah had her baby sooner than expected. I should have called Leo to explain, but it all happened so fast it completely went from mind. Where are you, anyway?’

‘At home,’ he said. ‘I got an earlier flight.’ The pause was brief. ‘How come you were involved?’

‘Sarah and I were having lunch together when she started. Unfortunately, Brady missed it all, but he’s there with her now. A boy,’ she added. ‘Eight pounds, four ounces. Both doing well.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Zac paused again. ‘How long have you and Sarah been meeting up?’

‘This was the first time. She rang me last night to suggest it.’

‘Any idea why?’

Jessica began a shrug, desisting on the realisation that he couldn’t very well see her. ‘I don’t think there was any particular reason. She just thought it time we met up again. A good thing, as it happened. We were a lot closer to the hospital than she would have been at home. I’d better ring Leo and let him know what’s happening. I’ll see you later.’

She rang off before he could say anything further, her eyes on the calendar pinned to a notice board opposite where she stood. Today was Wednesday. She and Zac had been married six weeks the previous Saturday. She’d had one period a week or so after the wedding, which meant she had been due again the previous week.

Looking a bit drained herself, Sarah had said earlier, but not for that reason, she thought now in determined rejection of any such idea. So she was a few days late. It wasn’t exactly the first time. Even allowing for the one or two occasions when Zac had neglected to use a condom, she’d been safeguarded by the Pill, anyway.

Leo received her call with obvious relief. ‘I thought you’d been in an accident or something,’ he said. ‘I was on the verge of ringing the police when Zac called. Don’t think about coming back to the office now. There’s nothing that can’t wait till morning. You go on home to that husband of yours.’

Given a choice, Jessica would have preferred to return to work, but Leo was going to think it very strange if she insisted on it. It seemed insensitive on the face of it to depart the hospital without saying goodbye to Sarah after all they’d gone through together, reluctant though she was to face the questions Brady no doubt had ready by now. There was nothing wrong in her and his wife having lunch together. He and Zac were the ones with the problem.

She found the three of them alone in the pleasant bedroom that was to be Sarah’s for the next few days while she acclimatised herself to being a mother. Brady had already acquainted himself with the details of their meeting. He unbent enough to offer his thanks for the speed with which Jessica had acted.

‘Naturally, I’d have preferred to be here myself,’ he said. The gaze he rested on the baby now sleeping soundly in the crib beside the bed was as proud as any new father’s would be. ‘A real Prescott, isn’t he? Grandfather will be delighted with him!’

‘I’m sure your grandmother will be too,’ Jessica felt bound to observe. ‘I spoke to Zac just now. He got back an hour ago.’ It was somewhat less than the truth, but she said it anyway. ‘He sends his congratulations.’

‘Tell him thanks.’ Brady had reverted to the hard-headed character she’d known in Dorset at the mention of Zac’s name. ‘You’ll be wanting to get back home yourself after all this.’

She’d heard subtler hints, Jessica thought drily. She caught Sarah’s eye, answering the appeal therein with a smile. ‘It’s certainly been an eventful afternoon! I’ll talk to you on the phone tomorrow, when you’re rested.’

She made her escape, glad to be away from the man she found so hard to like. His concern seemed to be more with his grandfather’s response to the news than his wife’s welfare right now. Sarah looked in dire need of sleep.

It took her nearly an hour to get home. The taxi dropped her at the entrance to the mews, leaving her to dash to number eleven in the sudden heavy downpour that had been threatening for the past half hour. Minus an umbrella, and wearing only a lightweight suit, she was soaked in seconds, her hair forming chestnut corkscrews as the curl took over. Zac came out from the sitting room as she opened the outer door. He viewed her bedraggled figure with unthrilled eyes.

‘You better get those things off before you get chilled,’ he said.

‘I’ll make you a hot drink,’ called Barbara from the kitchen.

‘Don’t bother,’ she called back. ‘I’m fine. I’ll be down in a few minutes,’ she added to Zac. ‘Do you want to stay in, or go out for dinner?’

‘We’ll go out,’ he said, retaining the same level tones.

Jessica headed up the spiral staircase. Reaching the bedroom, she stripped off to the skin, and took a quick shower, then donned fresh underwear and drew on a pair of black, lace-topped stockings to go with the hipskimming little black dress she fished from the wardrobe.

Her hair she left to dry naturally, after running a brush over it. A swift stroke of a mascara brush over her lashes, a dash of lipstick, and she was ready. Despite the lipstick, her face in the mirror looked colourless. She brushed on some blusher, but it seemed to fade away immediately. Imagination, she told herself brusquely. Any more, and she’d finish up looking like a china doll!

Barbara had gone by the time she got downstairs.

Turning to Zac, Jess asked, ‘Shall you be going to see the new arrival?’