A Spanish Marriage

‘Oh, dear!’ She raised her baby-blue eyes to the ceiling and sketched a tiny shrug. ‘We didn’t expect you for another couple of days.’

Ignoring that painfully obvious statement, Zoe swallowed convulsively and found the scratchy remnants of her voice. She knew what was going on but she had to ask, ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Oh, come on!’ The cherry-red lips curved in a small pitying smile as the other woman wandered further into the room on clouds of musky perfume. ‘What do you think?’ Pushing a languid hand through her tousled mane of rich brown hair, Glenda sank onto a sofa, tucking her legs beneath her, utterly relaxed, quite at home, Zoe thought on a stab of bitterness.

‘Listen, kid, wise up.’ Narrowed blue eyes flicked away from Zoe to minutely scrutinise her fingernails, as if she was searching for flaws in the cherry-red varnish. ‘You’re due to come into a pretty hefty chunk of the folding stuff—why else did you think Javier married you? The last time I teased him about cradle-snatching—when we were in Cannes, I think it was—he admitted it. Not that his marriage came between us, of course. We’ve been lovers for years, as you knew. But you weren’t supposed to know it was still definitely ongoing; we have been very discreet. But now it’s out in the open, you’ll have to decide what to do about it.’

The inspection of her nails completed, she raised narrowed, heavily lashed eyes to Zoe’s white face. ‘Face the fact that Javier would have turned on the charm to keep you unsuspecting and doting—a wealthy wife is better than a poor one, and all that,’ she derided. ‘But my advice, for what it’s worth, is cut loose before the sexy bastard breaks your girly little heart.’

‘What time is he expected?’ Zoe pushed out between clenched teeth, bitter anger taking over. What she’d first believed was an insane nightmare, something she’d crazily hoped could be explained away, was now cold, hard fact. If he walked in now she would kill him!

Just for a moment the luscious brunette seemed disconcerted but Zoe decided she had to have been imagining it when Glenda managed a tiny shrug and drawled, ‘No idea. Some time tonight. Something needing his urgent attention cropped up in Milan. We decided it wasn’t worth my going with him, as usual, so I’m to wait here. So do try to be adult about the situation and either learn to accept it, or, far better from your point of view, cut free.’

Accept it! Never in this life!

Pain throbbed in her temples and sizzling rage tied her insides in crippling knots.

Accepting the sordid situation wasn’t an option. And neither was staying to confront him. She’d only end up giving herself away, allowing him to see how thoroughly he’d broken her heart. She wouldn’t give the louse the satisfaction!

Which left the other. Zoe turned on her heel and walked out.

CHAPTER TEN

HOW she’d ever got back to Wakeham Lodge without ending up as an RTA statistic, Zoe would never know. She remembered absolutely nothing of the drive out of London, her tortured mind being completely occupied with the pain and humiliation of what Glenda had made her face.

But she made it in one piece in time to walk into the large homely kitchen just as Ethel was heating the milk for the early bedtime cocoa.

‘Are you all right?’ It was Joe who noticed her silent appearance first, rising from the long scrubbed pine table, a look of concern on his weathered face.

So she must look as awful as she felt, Zoe reflected heavily. Sketching what she hoped would pass for a reassuring smile, she offered, ‘I’m fine.’

If you could call feeling dead inside and brutally mangled at one and the same time fine, that was.

Ethel swung round from the vast Aga cooker, taking the pan off the heat. ‘We didn’t expect you—you should have phoned to let us know you were coming. Another half an hour and Joe would have bolted the doors for the night! Is Javier here with you?’

‘No.’ Zoe pulled out a chair from the table and sat down before her wobbly legs gave way beneath her. Javier would be back in London by now, sure to be. With his mistress. Sick as a parrot because he’d been found out? Or would he merely shrug those magnificent shoulders of his and write off his losses?

Isabella Maria had openly rejoiced that her son had taken her advice for the first time in his life. Wealth should marry wealth. How she’d scorned that concept back at the villa, ruled it out of play, believing she knew him better than his mother did! She now knew it to be hatefully true.

Two mugs of cocoa appeared on the table. ‘Let me get you something—a little light supper. How about scrambled eggs and bacon? At least a nice cup of tea and a slice of hot buttered toast?’ Ethel laid a light hand on her shoulder. ‘You look a bit peaky.’

There was a natural curiosity there as well as concern, Zoe recognised. She tried out a smile. Her mouth felt unnaturally stiff. ‘Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.’

Not a lie, not exactly. She’d eaten breakfast this morning. It seemed a million light years away. How could a day start with such bright hope and end a few hours later in black misery and complete disillusionment?

‘I’ve been spending a few days with Grandmother Alice while—Javier’s—’ her tongue almost refused to form his name ‘—while he’s been away on business.’

This time without his precious mistress. Oh, how she hated him!

At the sound of her voice Boysie stirred in his basket at the side of the Aga. One eye opened, his tail gave just one half-hearted thump of recognition before he went right back to sleep again.

Nothing like the usual ecstatic welcome. Her eyes flooded with weak tears, she blinked them back furiously as a lump the size of a house brick lodged in her throat. She felt rejected, a waste of space.

As if tuned in to her feelings, or maybe because he’d noticed her brimming eyes, Joe explained kindly, ‘The little fella’s bushed. I practically walked the legs off him this

evening.’

‘And spent most of the afternoon throwing his ball for him. Honestly, he’s like an overgrown kid with that little dog,’ Ethel put in fondly.