His eyes were brilliant with an anger that made her recoil sharply. ‘No … Claire …’ His grip prevented her from breaking free. ‘I’m sorry. The look on your face brought home to me what could have happened to Heather. I think it takes being a father to bring home to a man how vulnerable and unprotected women are. I think if any man hurt either Heather or Lucy I would tear him apart with my bare hands. I wish I could turn time back for you and wipe out what happened, but I can’t …’
‘No. And at least I have Lucy,’ Claire said unsteadily.
The emotion in his eyes and voice had been so unexpected. His fingers still dug into her arm and she covered them gently.
‘I’m sorry, did I hurt you? I …’ He sounded almost dazed.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Heather and Lucy had disappeared into the sitting-room, but now Heather came back, hovering uncertainly in the doorway, eyeing them both with an anxiety that tore at Claire’s heart.
‘Susie never liked her interrupting us,’ muttered Jay huskily when he saw Claire’s frown. ‘In some way she almost seemed to be jealous of any attention I gave her.’
Understanding the reason for the little girl’s hesitation, Claire smiled at her. ‘Come on, let’s all have breakfast,’ she suggested cheerfully. ‘After all, we’ve got a wedding to go to.’
Contrary to all her expectations, the civil ceremony, far from being austere and unmeaningful, took place in a small, prettily decorated room. on the registrar’s desk was a bowl of fresh flowers, and Claire had the feeling that everything that could be done had been done to make the room attractive and welcoming. The service, simple though it was, was very moving, causing even Lucy to remain silent in awareness of the solemnity of the occasion.
Jay didn’t kiss her, and she was glad of that. Her nerves were too tightly strung to endure much more.
A cold wind knifed through her thin suit as they all walked outside. Claire saw Jay frown and put out an arm as though he intended to draw her close to his side to keep her warm, and she moved away from him automatically, shivering as she felt the wind bite.
‘You need a coat.’
‘I’ve already got one,’ she told him lightly. It was true, she had; an ancient duffle-coat which she had bought second-hand but which was excellent at keeping out the cold.
‘Now that you’re married, will Jay be my daddy?’ Lucy demanded irrepressibly as Jay led the way back to the car.
Over her head Jay looked at Claire. Stooping down to the little girl’s height, he asked her quietly, ‘Would you like me to be your daddy, Lucy?’
‘Her emphatic ‘Yes,’ would have made Claire smile at any other time.
‘And Heather wants you to be her mummy,’ she told Claire firmly.
Claire bit her lip and looked helplessly at Jay. Heather already had a mother.
‘I think it will be easier all round if we let both girls call us “Mummy” and “Daddy”,’ he suggested softly.
‘But Heather …’
‘I want you to be my mummy,’ Heather protested, clinging to Claire’s arm and gazing up at her, and Claire didn’t have the heart to deny her.
Whatever happened though, she promised herself, if Heather ever wanted to talk about her mother, and to see her, she would do her utmost to ensure that she did. Maybe now, with Susie’s rejection of her very much to the forefront of her mind, she didn’t want to know about her natural mother, but later, when she was more adult … It was something she would have to discuss with Jay, Claire admitted to herself, but not right now.
‘Who’s hungry?’ asked Jay, lightening the emotional mood. ‘I’ve booked us into a local restaurant for lunch,’ he told Claire. ‘I felt we should do something to celebrate, but I also thought you might not like the idea of the hotel staff knowing that we’d just got married.’
His sensitivity, so unexpected in so tough a man, made her eyes sting with emotional tears. It seemed unbelievable that a man who had so many demands on his time already should make the effort to arrange a celebratory luncheon for what, after all, to him was merely a business arrangement.
The restaurant was in a small village several miles outside Bath. The chef had trained with the Roux brothers, Jay informed Claire as they drew up outside.
The restaurant had once been a farmhouse, and a huge log fire burned in the enormous hearth, throwing out a welcome heat. The furniture was simple and cottagey, the beamed walls colour-washed a soft cream, the old rose carpet on the floor enhancing the intimate atmosphere of the place.
They were shown to a table slightly secluded from the others, a deferential waiter ceremoniously unfolding the crisply starched pink napkins and placing them on two grey velvet laps, much to the awed delight of the girls.
‘I’ve already ordered our meal,’ Jay explained. ‘So if there’s anything you don’t like …’ He broke off as another waiter advanced with an ice bucket and two glasses.
‘Champagne,’ he told Claire quietly. ‘I felt it was appropriate.’
Champagne! It was the last thing she had expected, and she sipped the golden wine nervously, gasping as the ice-cool liquid bubbled down her throat.