‘I thought we’d already established that,’ Campion said curtly.
The other woman frowned and then demanded, ‘Why haven’t you told him?’
Campion stared at her.
‘According to you, he already knows. Guy was right, you said,’ she reminded her.
‘Right?’ Meg looked confused, and then her mouth opened in a round ‘oh’ of enlightenment. ‘No, you misunderstood me. Guy doesn’t know you’re pregnant. He thinks…he thinks you’re involved with someone else. And so did I, until I heard you say you were four months gone.’
‘Someone else?’ Campion struggled to sit up, and then sank back on to the bench, as she realised she was still too weak to support herself properly.
‘How could he think that?’ she began, and then flushed, remembering their brief verbal exchange at the party.
‘Tait’s here with the car. We can
talk later. I’m Margaret, by the way, Guy’s sister.’
‘Yes, I know. One of the twins.’
‘Yes.’
Somehow or other, room was made for Campion in the car. She was feeling dizzy again, and it was a relief to lean back and close her eyes.
It wasn’t far back to the house, and with a bit of luck she might be able to make it to her room without either Mrs Timmins or Lucy guessing what had happened.
She opened her eyes. The drive seemed to be taking a long time. Alarm jolted through her as she stared at her unfamiliar surroundings.
She gripped the back of the front passenger seat and Margaret turned round.
‘We’re taking you home with us,’ she said quickly. ‘It seems best…’
Best? For whom? She didn’t want to go home with them.
‘Please, I’d rather…’
Margaret had turned up the radio, and either wasn’t aware or didn’t want to be aware of her protest. This was kidnap, Campion told herself. She could sue them—and then her stomach lurched protestingly as the car hit a dip in the road. Tait, seeing her expression in his driving mirror, increased his speed slightly.
The car turned into the drive of a modern, well built house and stopped.
‘Straight upstairs, I think, Meg,’ Campion heard Tait saying calmly to his wife, as he helped her out of the car.
She caught the look of mingled panic and guilt that crossed the other woman’s face, and her husband’s quick, negative shake of his head, and fear clutched at her.
Her baby—she was going to lose her baby! She must have said it out loud, because Tait told her soothingly, ‘Nothing of the kind! Four-month babies aren’t that easy to lose, and if it’s got the French blood in its veins…’
Nevertheless, he was quick to examine her once she was upstairs and, in her anxiety for her unborn child, Campion was forced to tell him about her specialist’s fears.
‘Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine. I’ll ring your friends and let them know—’
‘That you—I’ve been kidnapped,’ she supplied bitterly.
‘Yes. I’m sorry about that, but you see…’
But Campion wasn’t listening. She had drifted off to sleep, exhausted by the events of the afternoon.
Downstairs, Meg asked her husband anxiously, ‘Is she going to be all right? If anything happens, I’ll never forgive myself.’
‘You shouldn’t have interfered, Meg—but yes, I think she’ll be OK,’ he told her, relenting when he saw her worried face.