Wife by Agreement

Her resolve hardened as she recalled the awful things he'd accused her of. She couldn't forgive him for being so quick to condemn her. 'You didn't. You believed I put my own pleasure before Emma's safety,' she reminded him stonily. 'You treated me like a leper.' He could have no inkling of how much that had hurt. It had been like being cast out of paradise. At the first hurdle he'd failed the test; he didn't trust her. She'd thought something, special had grown between them, but his attitude had shown her what an idiot she'd been to believe that.

'I was a fool!' he said urgently, trying to break past her icy disdain.

'I'd be a fool if I believed anything you said to me now. It's easy to be generous when you know the truth, Ethan. Now you know I'm not the selfish slut you accused me of being, what do you want to do? Does this mean a promotion back into your bed?' she suggested with blighting scorn. 'What makes you think I'd want that sort of professional advancement?'

'I know you're hurting, Hannah, but stop this before you say things you'll regret.' His eyes were dark with pain, but she made herself blind to the fact. In the tunnel of her restricted vision all she wanted to see was her own pain and his lack of trust

'I don't suppose Catherine would have been as crude and...vulgar...' Her eyes went automatically to the walnut bureau where a whole cluster of smiling portraits of her predecessor sat. Her voice died away as she saw, mjich to her amazement, they had vanished. An antique pewter bowl held a casual arrangement of late, overblown faded roses.

'On the contrary, Hannah, Catherine would have approved of your disgust at the thought of sharing my bed.

We conceived Tom on the only occasion during a six-month period when we slept together. So you see I wasn't exaggerating when I said it had been more than three years. You look shocked.'

'I don't understand.' His words made no sense to her. They'd been the perfect couple—a shining example that she could never aspire to.

'What don't you understand?'

'Everyone says...' The ironic gleam in his eyes made her voice fade uncertainly. 'The pictures... Alexa said...'

'"Alexa said"—oh, then it must be true,' he drawled. 'The pictures were for the children. I didn't want them to forget who their mother was. I owed her that much. Guilt made me go overboard.'

'Guilt?' The bitterness in his voice cut through her miasma of self-pity and aching loss.

'If I'd let our marriage die a natural death, instead of being so bloody-minded and stubborn, Catherine would still be alive.'

Hannah's chaotic thoughts couldn't make sense of the things he was saying. The habit of thinking of his first marriage as perfect was too ingrained to drop immediately.

'I'm not going to force you back into my bed, Hannah. I'm not even going to beg you.'

Of course he wasn't. Ethan didn't have to beg—he was too clever for that. She was awake to the danger she was in. A self-destructive part of her wanted to believe in him. Loving Ethan hurt, and she couldn't bear to hurt any more.

'I know you hate me, but don't let your grief twist things.'

I’rn not twisting things; you are.'

'When you're grieving for the baby, Hannah, try and remember that he was my child too. Do you think I don't feel the loss? You don't have a monopoly on grief! I learnt I had a child and I'd lost him in twenty seconds. I nearly lost you.' His voice cracked with emotion. 'I couldn't have borne that, Hannah.'

She took a step away from the message that blazed in his eyes. Why hadn't he said he cared before? she thought angrily. When there was still time. Couldn't he see it was too late now? Everything was spoilt.

'I love you, Hannah.'

'No!' she said, pressing her hands to her ears. 'Don't say that. You bought me, that's all. I'm like any other investment. You can't love me, Ethan. If you did you couldn't have thought all those wicked things about me! You didn't give me a chance.'

'Let me explain,' he begged.

'Nothing you can say could make me feel any different. You set out to make me love you, didn't you?' she accused. His silence spelt out his guilt in her eyes. 'I know you had no use for my love—it was just a way you saw of controlling me. You must have been pleased when your plan worked so well. The irony is you needn't have bothered—you didn't have to lift a finger. I didn't marry you for financial security—I married you because I loved you. I loved you from the first moment I set eyes on you.' She broke off, her bosom heaving with emotion.

The colour drained dramatically from his face as she watched. 'Is that true?' he asked, in a voice she scarcely recognized. He closed his eyes. 'I didn't know. I didn't know...'

Hannah still didn't know what had possessed her to blurt out the truth, but it was too late to deny it now.