Mistress And Mother

Molly stiffened. ‘I know that…so what are you saying?’

Sholto dealt her a slow, steady smile. ‘I fired him up and sent him home to you and it fairly did the trick, didn’t it, cara?’

As she worked out the ramifications of that amused assurance, Molly’s bosom swelled with outrage. ‘How dare you use Donald like that?’

‘Of course, you would’ve fallen off your high horse eventually, but it’s preferable that we should marry quickly, rather than make it blatantly obvious that we’re retying the knot because you’re expecting my child,’ Sholto drawled softly. ‘I always think that a visibly pregnant bride may risk leaving the uncharitable with the impression that the groom was dragged reluctantly to the altar.’

Lena gaped when she saw Molly’s dress. It was scarlet, off-the-shoulder and swirled to a halt four inches above the knee. There was nothing remotely bridal about that flirty hemline.

‘You look temfic in it,’ her sister-in-law finally conceded. ‘Only I would’ve thought Sholto would’ve fancied you in something more…well, traditional.’

But Sholto didn’t seem to fancy her in anything any more, Molly thought with a dismal sinking sensation inside her. Since his return from Italy, he hadn’t even entered her bedroom. Was that because she was pregnant and somehow no longer sexually attractive to him? Or because he was still angry with her? He had worked such long hours over the past five days that she had barely seen him but she had had plenty of time to reflect on her own errors of judgement.

She saw now so clearly that she should have stayed and talked at Freddy’s house and definitely shouldn’t have used Nigel’s predicament like a battering ram to hold Sholto at a distance and prevent him from getting personal when he’d come to her office. He had seen that as blackmail and he had acted accordingly by calling her bluff.

Throughout Sholto had been telling her that what had happened between them was infinitely more important and she had been telling him that he couldn’t have a hearing unless he helped her brother. And what had that been but blackmail? she conceded ruefully now. For, much as she loved her brother, Sholto had had every justification in saying that Nigel was not on his conscience.

‘You just don’t know you’re living, Molly.’ Lena wandered slowly around the fabulous bedroom, touching polished wood with reverent fingers, pausing to admire with unconcealed wonder. ‘How could you ever have walked away from all this? And Sholto? He’s so fantastically good-looking and charming…and so what if he made a bit of a hash of things the last time?’

‘“A bit of a hash?”’ Molly repeated with dazed disbelief, her head whipping round.

‘Well, it’s my bet that cousin of his just threw herself at him…and then you went off the deep end about her on your wedding night. A lot of men couldn’t stick that sort of hassle and abuse.’ Lena sighed ruefully. ‘And if he’d slept with her before it must’ve been even easier for him to do it again. There she was, waiting with open arms, probably telling him how much she loved and appreciated him. Men can act like spoilt little boys on the rampage when you hurt their egos.’

‘Sholto’s ego is rock-solid. I can’t imagine what it would take to sink him to the level of a naughty schoolboy!’ Molly objected tautly, pacing the room restively from end to end.

Lena looked uncomfortable. ‘I just don’t think you should still be holding that night against him, Molly. Maybe that’s what I really wanted to say.’

‘I’m not still holding it against him!’ It shook Molly to hear her quiet, shy sister-in-law talking with such surprisingly cynical authority on the subject of the male sex.

‘You want to be sure that this is really a fresh start for you both.’

‘He doesn’t love me…he loves her,’ Molly whispered tightly. ‘How much of a fresh start is that?’

‘If he loved her, he’d have married her after you broke up with him. You’re just looking for trouble,’ Lena said worriedly. ‘That’s all over and done with now.’

Molly stared sightlessly out of one of the windows, her heart thudding at the base of her dry throat. Was it over and done with? Would it ever really be over? Did that kind of frustrated and impossible love ever die? Lena just didn’t know what she was talking about. But then Molly had never told anyone what she suspected. A secret which bound Sholto and Pandora together in a relationship that could never be what they wanted it to be…

If Riccardo Cristaldi had had an affair with his wife’s sister, Meriel, and fathered her only child, it meant that Pandora was Sholto’s half-sister. Even if their birth certificates said otherwise, even if nobody could either prove or seriously suspect that truth, Molly knew that Sholto would never have taken advantage of that cover of ignorance to live an incestuous lie.

Nor could she forget his scorching derision in this same room when he had said that her narrow mind could not comprehend that sex was not the dominating factor in every relationship between a man and a woman. It was.just possible that he had resisted temptation, that he had never actually been physically intimate with Pandora, and that Molly had read too much into the snatch of conversation she had overheard.

Rather than that exchange signalling a continuing affair, might Sholto simply have been trying to calm Pandora down while comforting her with the promise that in spite of his marriage he would always care for her? Mightn’t he still genuinely have intended to give his mamage a fair chance? But Pandora had been determined not to let Sholto go without a fight and Molly had been too shattered by what she had learnt to do anything but play right into Pandora’s hands.

For wasn’t that what she had ultimately done? Ranting and raving, refusing to listen to him, walking out on their marriage. She had walled herself up with her grief and bitterness, taking pride in her own stubborn inflexibility. But Sholto had walked out first and he had been with Pandora all night… So if she was to believe that they hadn’t been engaged in a rapturous reunion, what had they been doing?

For the first time, an arrow of doubt had entered Molly’s mind as to the completeness of Sholto’s guilt. For the first time, she wanted and needed to know what had actually happened that night, no matter how bad that truth might make her feel.

It was cold in the old stone chapel in the grounds. Gooseflesh rising on her bare arms, Molly was walking down the short aisle when Sholto turned from the altar to watch her. His brilliant dark eyes widened and then flashed gold, raking over her in a lightning-fast appraisal. His beautifully shaped mouth curved into a deeply appreciative and amused smile.

The simple ceremony was over quickly. Sholto’s great-uncle Ned was not at all like his late brother, Freddy. Large and portly, Ned looked most impressive in his ceremonial vestments but he had a relaxed and cheerful manner and he laughed a lot. Molly’s concentration was nil. Her heart was beating very fast. Don’t romanticise this marriage, she told herself in urgent warning. He’s marrying you because of the baby and nothing has re

ally changed.

As they vacated the chapel, Sholto slid fluidly out of his jacket and draped it round Molly’s bare shoulders. The silk lining was wonderfully warm from his body heat. She glanced up at him, suddenly shy as she met the dark golden eyes trained on her. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t think about the temperature when I went shopping.’

‘You look,’ Sholto savoured in a low, sexy growl, ‘absolutely delicious.’

Ogden served them with champagne in the drawing room. Molly couldn’t take her eyes off Sholto and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. Nigel and Lena took their leave while Sholto’s great-uncle talked endlessly about Templebrooke’s priceless hoard of English and Oriental pottery and porcelain. In the Brooke tradition, Sholto was a collector too. A steady procession of experts from all over the world came by special appointment to view the magnificent display which was housed in four specially adapted rooms in the west wing.