‘I think so. He is certainly not happy, although he hides it well. I cannot be certain, of course, but there is something in his expression when he looks at Alex and Tess, and I saw it once, reflected in a mirror, when he was looking at us. Happy marriages. I cannot believe that he would be unhappy over not being married, because he could remedy that soon enough, he is so very eligible after all. Which makes me think he loves someone and it is not returned. Will he tell you about it?’
‘Poor devil. I never thought to say that about Cris, and as for confiding, at knife point, possibly, otherwise, not,’ he admitted with a faint smile that vanished as he frowned, back searching into his memory. ‘I was not relieved she died. No, never that. If I could have gone back in time, never married Madeleine, then perhaps I would have done—but then I would not have Charlie, would I?’
Kate felt him relax as he thought of his son, then he smiled properly and she sensed the loosening of his taut body. ‘We’ll turn that space into rooms for the children. A bedroom each, a schoolroom, a nursery. That will chase the ghosts away better than any exorcism.’
‘Grant, that’s a brilliant idea.’ Kate wriggled up to kiss him and realised that he had relaxed enough to be thinking of his new wife, not his old—or perhaps it was just his body that was doing so. She slid her tongue between his lips and snuggled her hips closer against his and smiled as her husband rolled her over with a possessive growl. He would not have nightmares tonight.
But, as she went down into the whirlpool of sensation with him, the thought flickered through her mind that they were making love without restraint and without care for the consequences. Strange that she had never given it a thought before tonight. The children’s suite might need more rooms one day…
*
‘You are happy.’ Tess linked her arm through Kate’s as they strolled across the parterre.
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘We…confronted our problem. Look, you see that rough lawn down there? We are going to turn that into a water garden.’
‘I’m so glad—about both the problem and the water garden.’ Tess was not easily diverted from her theme. ‘And I am happy for both of you. I only met Grant fleetingly before I married Alex, but I liked him very much. I am so glad he has found someone to love, someone who loves him.’
‘I…’ Oh, why deny it? You are head over heels in love with the man. ‘Grant does not love me. I told you the truth, that it was a marriage of convenience. We hardly know each other yet.’
‘Alex and I did not know each other very long before I knew that I loved him. Mind you, it took an awful lot to make him realise that he loved me, even when I set about seducing him,’ Tess admitted with a candour that made Kate smile despite everything. ‘Men are not very bright about emotions of that sort.’
‘Nor am I. I don’t want to have my heart broken. I thought I was in love before, with Anna’s father, but I was not. Now I feel like this about Grant and it can be wonderful in… I mean, it is wonderful being with him.’ She must be the colour of a peony.
‘Wonderful in bed?’ Tess teased. ‘For me, too. Aren’t we lucky? Such talented men.’
‘Yes. But Grant doesn’t expect love in marriage. He certainly didn’t find it with his first wife and that was a disaster that’s haunting him still. He really did not want to marry again, not for himself. He did it because he wanted to rescue me, and because Charlie needed a stepmother and because he had promised his grandfather.’ She watched a rabbit hop across the grass, stop to eat something, then, suddenly alarmed, make for the woods. That was how she felt—calm and content, then frightened by fears she could not quite name, doubts she could not express.
‘I should be happy with what I have—a good man, two lovely children, security, physical bliss. And yet…’
‘And yet you want it all and it will hurt all the more if he does not love you, because you can see so clearly how it could be.’
‘And Grant says that I hit hard,’ Kate said with a rueful smile.
‘I was brought up by nuns to be painfully honest and it is difficult to remember tact sometimes. Are you sure he does not love you?’
‘Quite sure. I believe he thinks he did the right thing in marrying me, which is something. But if I vanished off the face of the earth tomorrow?’ She shrugged. ‘He would be truly sorry, but his heart would not be broken.’
‘What will you do?’ Tess took off her bonnet and began to swing it from its ribbons, turning her face up to the sky.
‘You will get freckles,’ Kate warned. ‘Do? Why, nothing. I can’t imagine ever having the courage to tell him. He would be so kind about it.’ She shivered.
‘Yes. Horrible,’ Tess agreed. ‘He would pussyfoot around being nice to you and you would never know what he really felt.’
; *
‘I think we should go through the things in Madeleine’s bedchamber,’ Kate suggested as she and Grant found themselves alone in the dining room waiting for their guests to join them for luncheon. ‘Do you think there might be items you could give to Charlie as a memento of his mother? He would treasure that.’
‘You wouldn’t be jealous?’ Grant seemed puzzled. ‘He’s never known her, he can’t really remember her and he loves you. Why do you risk that by making her more real for him?’
‘What he feels for me cannot be diluted by what he feels for anyone else. He loves you, he loves me, he loves his grandfather’s memory and he can love his mother—that makes more love, not less.’ Tess was right, she thought, men really are confused about love.
‘I suppose that is true.’ Grant caught Kate around the waist and pulled her into his embrace, to the imminent danger of the nearest place setting. ‘He won’t love you less—you are here and you are easy to love, Kate.’ He said it with a smile as he dipped his head to kiss her and Kate lurched back clumsily, sending a knife clattering to the floor.
There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and Cris de Feaux remarked, ‘My dear Grant, we are more than happy to take luncheon on the terrace—you only had to drop a hint, you know. But I’m sure a fully laid table is a most uncomfortable place to…er…bill and coo.’
Grant released her, scooped up the knife and waved the others into the room. ‘If a man cannot kiss his own wife in his own dining room without being accused of disgusting practices, things have come to a sorry pass,’ he remarked as he held a chair for Kate, then walked around to take his own place. ‘Billing and cooing indeed. Where on earth did you pick up such a bourgeois expression?’