Authors: Catherine George
A
waiter came to remove their plates, and they were halfway through the main course before Rufus returned to the subject.
'What I'm trying to say is that after I made love to you I felt as though a great cloud had lifted from my life.' His eyes met hers across the table, which was in a secluded corner, far enough away from the nearest diners to give them privacy. 'Sounds insane, put into words.'
'Not to me, because in some ways I felt the same. Until I
realised
there would be a sequel to the story!' Jo smiled at him crookedly. 'You've probably gathered that I intend to take you up on your offer.'
Rufus laid down his knife and fork, his eyes holding hers. 'You mean that?'
'Yes,' she said simply.
'You've obviously given it some thought.'
'Strangely enough, no. I went straight to sleep last night, and when I woke up this morning my mind had made itself up during the night. Marrying you seemed the logical thing to do—under the circumstances,' she added deliberately. 'Otherwise, Rufus, marrying the still grieving widower of my best friend would not be a tempting prospect. But you want a child, and I'm going to give birth to yours whether I want to or not, so the only sensible thing to do is accept your offer.' Sensible, possibly, but whether it was wise where only one partner loved the other was open to debate, thought Jo with secret misgivings.
'Would you like something else?' asked Rufus abruptly, and when she shook her head he rose to his feet and came round the table. 'Then we'll go home for coffee and start planning.'
Twenty minutes later Jo was sitting at the kitchen table in Beaufort Crescent, facing Rufus Grierson across the coffee-tray he'd laid in readiness before going out.
'You're very
organised
,' she said as she poured.
'I'm a lawyer, Jo. I'm required to be
organised
and logical. Which is why getting married seemed the obvious solution to our particular problem. Though I don't look on it as a problem myself. Do you?'
Jo sipped her coffee thoughtfully. 'Not so much now.' She looked around her, then smiled at him mockingly. 'Though I think this house made my mind up for me. The prospect of living here tipped the scales.'
Rufus chuckled. 'Don't speak too soon. Upstairs it's a shambles. I've got as far as having the bathroom refitted, and the main bedroom decorated. But the floors are bare, and the furniture consists solely of a bed and a wardrobe. Before you move in I'll get the other bedrooms sorted out.'
'Can you afford all this?' she asked bluntly. 'Unlike Claire I don't have any money.'
He shrugged. 'I can house and feed you without resort to any money of yours, Jo. The other house took a while to sell, but in the end it fetched a good price due to the refurbished stables. The people who bought it are horse-mad, like Claire.'
Jo eyed him uncomfortably. 'Please don't take offence, Rufus, but was the house yours? I mean, Claire didn't pay for it, did she?'
'No.' He met her eyes squarely. 'Claire had no money of her own, Jo. Her father wanted to settle a lump sum on her when we got married, but I drew the line at that. I staved him off by letting him buy her
a
horse, and promising to let him contribute to school fees at some future date. I could never get Claire to make a will, but it made very little difference. Her possessions were mostly clothes and
jewellery
. I returned the latter to the Beaumonts, along with the china and crystal they gave us as wedding presents. I kept the silver from my parents, and sent Claire's clothes to charity shops.
'The house, and everything in it,' he said with emphasis, 'is mine. So no hang-ups, Jo. It's time to get on with our lives. Once Rory's wedding is over we'll announce ours.' He reached over and took Jo's hand. 'But let's keep the baby to ourselves for a while, except for your mother.'
'Surely you'll tell your own mother?'
'In time. Let's live with the idea for a while ourselves first.' The overhead light burnished his hair with silver as he leaned nearer, his grasp tightening. 'Do you still hate the thought of motherhood, Jo?'
She thought it over. 'I never
hated
the idea, exactly. But it was Claire who always wanted babies. The only thing I ever burned to produce was my brainchild — my novel. Lots of women bring up children single-handed and make a fantastic job of it, but I never had ambitions to do the same.' She looked at him candidly. 'I panicked at first.'
Rufus smiled. 'Have you stopped panicking now?'
'About the baby, yes.' Jo bit her hp. 'About marrying you, I'm not so sure. It still hasn't sunk in. And you haven't tried living with me yet. I can be difficult in creative mode.'
'At which point you can retreat to your attic,' he said, unmoved. 'But we're two intelligent adults, Jo.
We should be able to occupy the same house without coming to blows.'
'I'm very sure of that,' she assured him. 'Never in my wildest dreams could I picture you letting fly with your fists.'
'Not where a woman's concerned, certainly.' Rufus released her hand and took a diary from his pocket. 'Now let's get down to business and settle a date. I suggest we get married three weeks from now, and Mother can wear the same gear she bought for Rory's wedding.'
Jo stared at him, startled. 'That soon?'
'I think we should put things in motion as quickly as possible,' he said matter-of-factly. 'And if anyone's overcome by the surprise factor we'll imply that it's not as sudden as it seems, but you insisted on waiting until a year had elapsed after Claire died.'
'You've got it all worked out to the last detail, Rufus,' she said drily. 'What would you have done if I'd refused to marry you after all?'
'Kept persuading until you gave in.'
"The child is that important to you?'
'Now there's the actual possibility of one, yes.' He held out his hand. 'Come on, I'll take you home; you need your sleep.'
Her eyes narrowed. 'You're not going to nag a lot, are you, Rufus?'
'Nag?' he said with distaste.
'Over whether I eat the right things, and behave like a sensible mother-to-be.' Jo eyed him militantly. 'I'm used to pleasing myself. If we live together—'
'When,' he corrected her.
'All right,
when
we live together you'll have to give me space. I've lived alone for the past six months and
I've loved it.' She sighed. 'I hadn't expected to give it up so soon.'
Rufus sat down again. 'I know I vetoed more comparisons, but one thing I should make clear, if only for your peace of mind, Jo, is that I value time to myself as much as you do. Claire could never understand that. Solitude frightened her.'
'I know.' Jo's eyes darkened. 'That's why I was so glad she died instantly. She never had time to be frightened of what came next.'
Rufus jumped up and pulled her out of her chair and into his arms, holding her in a firm, impersonal embrace.
'It's all right,' she said, her voice muffled against his chest. 'I'm not going to cry again.'
He made no move to relax his hold and Jo leaned against him for a while, taking comfort in his nearness before a warning voice reminded her of what had happened the last time Rufus Grierson took her in his arms. She moved, and his arms fell away, and when she looked up at him she found his eyes smiling down into hers with amused comprehension. 'Don't worry, Jo. I shan't take advantage of the new arrangement.'
She
coloured
. 'No. I'm sure you won't.'
'Which,' he went on blandly, 'doesn't mean I wouldn't like to. I'm just a human male animal like any other man, Miss Fielding.'
'Tell me about it!' she said tartly. 'Why else are we landed in this situation?'
He gave her a most un-Rufus-like grin, and gave her a deliberately chaste kiss on the cheek. 'Don't worry. I keep that side of me under wraps ninety-nine per cent of the time.'
Jo
found
that her agreement to marry Rufus set the ball rolling with a vengeance.
'Mother,' she said on the phone next morning, after the usual chat, 'will the roast stretch to an extra guest for lunch today?'
'Of course, darling. Who are you bringing?'
'Rufus Grierson,' said Jo baldly, with no attempt to break the news more subtly.
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. 'You do mean Claire's husband?' said Rose Fielding after a while.
'How many Rufus
Griersons
do
I
know?'
'Don't be flippant! You can't blame me for wondering why you're bringing him to lunch. He's never been a
favourite
with you.'
Jo blushed, unseen. 'Well, things have changed a bit. We've been seeing each other lately.'
'Good heavens—you never mentioned it!'
'No, I know. But I'm mentioning it now, so is it all right to bring him?'
'Of course. Shall I ask Thalia and Charles too?'
'No!
Just the three of us—please.'
After a few minutes' conversation to report her progress with her book Jo rang off and
dialled
Rufus' number. 'Permission granted.'
'Good. How are you this morning?'
'Fine. How are you?'
'Relieved.'
'Because I said
yes
?'
'
Yes
,'
'Not a man
to waste words, are you?' she said drily.
'If you wish me to wax flowery, I will,' he assured her.
'Perish the thought! Just collect me at eleven—please.'
When Rufus arrived Jo went downstairs to join him, wearing her jade-green shirt with cream linen trousers and a fawn cotton cable-knit sweater knotted round her shoulders—an outfit carefully chosen to show up her tan.
'Hi,' she said, smiling at Rufus, who, to her surprise, bent to kiss her cheek.
'In case the
neighbours
are watching,' he said suavely as he held the car door open for her. 'You look good this morning.'
'I feel fine.' She looked at him as he slid in beside her. 'You look good too.'
'I aim to please,' he said drily.
And, in her case, succeeded, always, thought Jo. Rufus Grierson managed, without effort, to look elegant whatever he wore, and today was no exception. His grey trousers were in a Prince of Wales check that only legs as long as his could carry off, worn with a shirt in a lighter shade of silver-grey. A matching jacket lay on the back seat with a silk tie tucked in the pocket.
'I opted for a suit under the circumstances,' he informed her. 'I shall put the jacket on before we arrive to impress your mother.'
He probably would impress her, too, thought Jo. 'I'm a bit nervous,' she confessed. 'Mother was very surprised when I asked to bring you to lunch.'
'How will she take our news, do you think?'
'Rufus, I haven't a clue. My mother's never predictable.' Jo shrugged. 'But, whatever her reaction, it won't make any difference.'