Read Scarlet Lady Online

Authors: Sara Wood

Scarlet Lady (2 page)

The corners of her mouth drooped in misery when she heard him talking to Arabella in the tone of voice he used in bed—as if he'd spent too long in a smoke-filled room. She saw the intense look, the total concentration, as if his hungry grey eyes could look nowhere else...

He's mine! she thought furiously. 'Hello, Arabella.' Her shaky greeting won her a brief, cold smile from the smirking woman but no other acknowledgment. Leo seemed to have superglued his gaze to Arabella's, Ginny thought glumly.

She knew that he'd been annoyed over the trial even taking place. The lawsuit had begun two years ago and she'd been forced to juggle extended modelling dates and sessions with her lawyer till she'd hardly seemed to be at home at all—and when she had been she'd felt exhausted. Leo had complained. Eventually he'd asked her to work part-time and settle down on the estate in Scotland. Which he loved and she hated. It was bleak and wet and isolated.

'The verdict came in, Leo,' she said quietly, breathing evenly to eliminate the shake from her voice.

'I know. I got a call from a journalist asking my opinion of Chas,' he said curtly.

Ginny paled, knowing that the scene in the car would have been embellished out of all proportion. 'Can I talk to you in private for a moment or so?' she asked faintly.

'If you wish.'

Leo's indifferent tones cut her like a knife. The humiliation was so intense that she felt like turning tail and running from the room, but Arabella was already rising to her feet and wrapping her arms around Leo's neck.

'Poor Ginny,' sighed Arabella, her green eyes slanting maliciously. 'I hear she'll be bankrupt. I guess she's lost everything she lives for. I'll slip away for a while. Bye for now, darling,' she cooed, then planted her scarlet lips firmly on Leo's and kept them there for several seconds.

'Catch you later,' said Leo calmly, emerging from the clinch. His hands stayed on Arabella's waist, Ginny noticed jealously. And he was smiling beautifully, letting his eyes twinkle. Or were they kindling? she thought jealously. But, whatever they were doing, it wasn't for her. 'Tea will be served in the drawing room in an hour. See you then.'

He smiled when Arabella gave him a flirty flutter of her talons and tottered off in a skirt that was indecently short.

'Is...?' Ginny frowned. 'Is Arabella staying for tea?' she asked in dismay.

'Staying—' Leo turned an unreadable gaze on her '—for a few days.'

When she needed privacy to lick her wounds! 'You... invited her?'

The long dark fringe of lashes flickered. 'You have a problem with that?' he asked.

'I—I wanted us to be alone,' Ginny began miserably.

'I've been alone for too long. I wanted company.' Leo's eyes only warmed when they watched Arabella's slow progress—a kind of exaggerated cat-walk down the long gallery.

Ginny tried to smile without much success. He seemed to be telling her something. And she didn't want to hear it. The implication was that he needed a woman around who'd give him what she'd been incapable of giving for some time: love, companionship, quality time... sex.

Her tawny eyes flickered with pain. They hadn't made love—not
real
love, sweet and tender—since the tabloid article had come out. And she'd been too scared to ask if he didn't care any more. Her heart pounded violently. If that were true, she'd go to pieces. It would be the end of her world.

Once, twice, he'd made love to her as if he hardly knew her, in a restrained way that had left her crying alone In the great bed while he'd disappeared to take a shower. She'd imagined that he was washing her off his body. How long was it since they'd last slept together?

She couldn't even remember, knowing only that she missed his loving arms and felt terribly alone.

Appalled, Ginny waited in the cold, unfriendly silence till Arabella's merrily clicking heels had stopped driving her crazy and the door had closed at the far end of the room. Leo was wiping lipstick from his mouth. And the cool neutrality had gone and he was suddenly very, very angry.

He had no right to be! Surely he must know what an ordeal she'd been through, how hard it had been to hold herself together these past few months? She was his wife and she was in trouble!

'Leo... I know it's been hard for you—hard for both of us—but... right at this moment I need you,' she said brokenly.

His bitter, glittering eyes slanted in her direction. 'Is that how it works?' he growled, and faced her at last, his face working with anger, the mouth that had so recently softened under Arabella's now a hard, unpleasant line carved in Scottish granite. 'I've needed you, Ginny. I've needed your support, your time, an understanding ear. I was happy for you to have a career but I didn't expect it to take you over completely. And this trial and the rumours about you—'

'Leo!' she said quickly, terrified of where this was leading. 'They're not true...' Her voice tailed away at his tormented expression.

'Ginny,' he said quietly, 'you must know how deeply you've hurt me and my family.'

She turned away. Leo's family had always unnerved her. His grandfather, the Earl of Castlestowe, had made it clear that he'd expected her to drop her career and concentrate on producing heirs.

'I never wanted to hurt anyone you care about. I love you,' she said unhappily, trembling, trying to remember how it had felt to be loved back. There was nothing but emptiness now—a blank feeling as if he'd wiped her clean and left a vacuum. 'I married you because I couldn't live without you. I still feel like that.'

He thrust his hands in the pockets of his linen trousers and stood silhouetted against the huge, mullioned window, a picture of power, money and perfect lineage. Chills ran down her spine. He was regretting their marriage. She didn't fit, never had done. Wrong class. Wrong blood. Oh, God! she screamed inside.

'You seem to have managed fine without me for some time,' he said huskily. 'What do you think that tells me, Ginny?'

'Please try to understand,' she said, horrified at how far they'd drawn away from one another. 'I love you but I need to work for my self-respect—'

'We talked of children,' he reminded her. 'You knew how much I wanted us to have a child.'

Ginny winced. She was scared of motherhood and what it implied, because their child would never be hers to love. They wouldn't be having a baby. They'd be producing an heir. And almost certainly her duty would be to bring up the Brandon heir according to the strict Brandon rules and regulations.

She knew something of Leo's childhood: the nannies who'd ruled his life till he'd been sent to boarding-school, the cold baths and rigorous devotion to duty. Leo had touched her heart when he'd told her that his mother had never cuddled him and had died in a riding accident when he was five.

Her own childhood had been hell too. No way was she going to inflict misery on her own flesh and blood in the same way. When she had a child, she wanted to be free to give it the love that she and Leo had been denied. But first their marriage had to be strong.

'You know why we delayed—'

'Your figure. Your career,' he said accusingly.

She stiffened. 'No! that isn't true! Leo, I never knew you could be so cruel—'

'I was never cuckolded before!' he said tightly.

She gasped in dismay and scanned the cold, bleak face for some sign of pity. None. Only that merciless glare. Pain seared through her. 'No man has ever made love to me but you!' she replied vehemently, her fingers picking fretfully at the pearl buttons of her suit. The curl of his mouth grew more contemptuous. 'You have to believe me, Leo!' she cried passionately, near to hysterics.

'How can I ever know?' he shot back.

The question shafted through her like a knife. Ginny raised sorrowful, gold-shot eyes to his, begging for a shred of affection that she could cling to. 'I can't prove anything,' she said in a whisper. 'Not to you, the public, my friends, your family, the courts. I was hoping—' She broke off and took a moment to find control of her voice. 'I lost the case,' she croaked. 'I have to pay nearly a million in costs,' she continued, hoping for some hint that he might want to console her.

'I told you not to resort to litigation,' he said in exasperation.

'Don't men normally defend their wife's honour?' she asked, her near-hysteria making her sound a little sharp.

'Against the tabloids?' One peat-brown eyebrow expressed scorn and disagreement. 'That's not how it's done, Ginny. It would be tantamount to saying that their lies could have an effect. Ignoring them is more dignified. You went against my advice and now you're reaping the consequences.'

'And you mean to chastise me like a disobedient child?' she retorted. 'Can't you see I need—?'

'No. I won't throw Brandon money at you any more. You have your own account; use it,' he said flatly.

Tears trickled down her cheeks and into the corners of her parted lips.. 'Oh, drat!' she rasped angrily, knuckling them away, not caring if her eye make-up became smudged. 'Leo, I wasn't asking for money; I'll earn more if I have to—do shows, TV interviews, anything— but... I...'

Overwhelmed, she reached out her arms to him in a piteous gesture. He ignored her plea. She knew that he was stubborn. Once, he'd defied his family to marry her and had defended her when they didn't rush to produce children as soon as everyone expected. And once he'd admired her success.

Now they no longer had the same goals, she thought miserably. Their lives were drawing apart. They had become strangers and he didn't want to defend her any more.

'Your career means a lot to you,' he observed.

'Naturally,' she said huskily. 'I've worked hard. It's given me self-esteem, Leo!'

'I know that. I don't denigrate what you've done. I've been proud of you.' His hooded eyes brooded on her. 'But .:.you can't be everything to all people and do it well, Ginny,' he said in a gentler tone than before.

'I had to try!' she cried in exasperation. 'Don't you see? If I hadn't kept my name up top and continued with the shows during the run-up to the trial, I'd have been yesterday's face in the twinkling of an eye. And what else would I do?' she asked hotly. 'You don't seriously think I could sit around all day discussing menus and arranging flowers, do you?'

'Don't be ridiculous!' he growled.

Ginny drove her teeth into her lower lip, knowing that she'd been unfair. He'd never asked that of her. 'What do you want from me?' she asked.

'Exclusivity,' he rasped rawly.

She controlled the urge to wince. 'I am yours. Wholly yours.'

'Are you?'

Her mouth trembled. It was clear that he didn't believe her. 'My darling, can't we start again? Please hold me. I need your arms around me so badly—'

'And I've needed yours many times and you've not been there,' he said quietly. 'It's not a marriage any more—'

'It will be!' she cried in panic, her hand pressing her chest where her heart banged painfully against her ribs. 'It's been a bad time but we can be together again—'

'We both have to want that,' he muttered.

Her eyes rounded in horror. His serious expression scared her. Cold to the bone, she dreaded to be told that he didn't love her any longer. She tried to speak but could only croak out a plaintive little 'Leo!'

'It's true, Ginny,' he muttered, the line of his mouth as wintry as the atmosphere at Castlestowe. 'I'm not sure you understand how to live and behave normally any more. Ever since you began to hit the big time, you've been spinning into orbit and getting more out of control as the years go by. And now you're famous people fix things for you. Hair, teeth, nails. They wax your legs, drive you wherever you want to go, arrange your accommodation, whisk you to parties and even dress you!'

'It's not like that!' she protested. 'You and the public only see what the film crews want you to see! People- dashing around trying to look important and making sure they get into camera shot!'

'But it's an unreal life,' he insisted. 'What the hell do you know about something as everyday as marriage? You don't realise it takes nurturing and nourishing to keep it alive and on fire!' he cried, his voice rising. 'Every time there's a picture of you with some leering film star or politician I get sniggers from people I know, and I can tell they're wondering if I believe half the things that ' are written about you! Then you have to go and defend your precious reputation in open court—
and you lose!'
he roared. 'Ginny, if you haven't been sleeping with every PR man in sight and any fake-tanned actor who's up for an Oscar, everyone else
thinks
you have—and that's crucifying me!'

'I know! I'm sorry! I really am!' she wailed.

Was that it? Had his pride been wounded because his wife was under suspicion? Ginny wondered if he'd had to defend her to his tough old grandfather, apologising for the dreadful publicity. And Leo
was
hurt. She could see that now; there was pain in his eyes and the lines that ran to the corners of his mouth.

Hesitantly she took a step or two forwards till she was an inch away from him. The depth of his anguish reached out to her heart and she longed to throw herself into his arms, to comfort him—herself too. To feel the strength of him encircling her, protecting her. Even a fighter had to take a rest and she'd been battling for too long.

'I hate that side of it!' she said fervently. 'You have to believe that—'

'But will you stop taking one assignment after another without giving yourself a decent break?' he demanded.

The question arrested her. Standing so close to him, her wan face uplifted, her famous tawny eyes wide with wonder, she knew that she wanted to. At that moment she'd had enough, and her job had evolved into a love- hate affair. But it had been her dream since she was tiny to be one of the top models in the world. She'd only just reached that status. Could she give it up and admit that she couldn't take the heat?

'I've never backed down. Never given up,' she explained slowly.

Although there was a brief softening of his bleak mouth, he made no reply to her comment. Her troubled eyes searched his. He was scowling, pushing back the dark lick of hair that flopped onto his forehead, and she felt a rush of deep affection at the familiar gesture.

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