Night Of Shame. Miranda Lee
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that she could keep her own bedroom. He was not a highly sexed man, he’d explained. Not sexless, mind. Just not one driven by carnal needs. He’d confessed to Judith that for some years he’d had an arrangement with a lady-friend of his, whom he visited every couple of weeks. They were not in love, he’d assured her, and he would naturally terminate this intimacy once he was an engaged man.
It suited Judith very well not to have a husband driven by carnal needs. That kind of passion was something she could well live without. It made her shudder just to think of it. All Judith wanted from life these days was a peaceful existence. The last thing she wanted was emotional upheaval and traumatic confrontations. But seeing Alex again would bring both!
‘This party Margaret’s throwing tonight,’ Raymond said, ‘is her way of holding out an olive branch to you, Judith. You must come,’ he ordered, ‘no matter what.’
She looked up and studied Raymond. He was leaning back in the bulky armchair, a quietly autocratic figure, his pipe resting in the corner of his mouth.
He was not a handsome man. His sandy hair was receding, his face was long, his nose sharp, his eyes pale grey and piercing. On either side of his mouth deep grooves ran from his cheeks to his chin.
Despite these unprepossessing physical features, however, Raymond exuded a certain attraction which had nothing to do with his looks. Perhaps it came from the power which went hand in hand with wealth. Raymond was a very rich man. He also had a strong and decisive character which Judith both appreciated and had learnt to rely upon.
‘You really can’t avoid the issue, Judith,’ he insisted logically. ‘Why, exactly, are you so upset at the prospect of meeting Alexander Fairchild again? And why do you call him a rotten bastard?’
Raymond removed his pipe and gazed steadily at her, waiting for an answer.
Judith was silent. She sat stiffly, shifting her eyes towards the fire to avoid his penetrating regard. The flames danced before her but she did not see them.
‘Were you lovers at some stage?’ he asked.
‘No!’ she denied hotly while throwing him an apprehensive glance.
‘There’s no need to shout. I don’t expect you to be a virgin, Judith, at the age of twenty-nine.’
Her blush took them both by surprise. She’d meant to tell Raymond; had been waiting for the right moment. But it hadn’t presented itself yet.
‘Good God,’ he muttered. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Judith’s chin lifted in an odd defiance. ‘Does it matter? I thought men of your generation liked their brides to be virgins on their wedding night. I mean...I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘To be honest, I’m more surprised than pleased. You’re such a good-looking woman. And you were engaged once before, weren’t you? And not to a man of my...er...generation. I always imagined most young couples slept together before they married these days.’
‘Well, Simon and I didn’t,’ she said quite sharply, piqued that Raymond seemed to be finding fault in her virginity. ‘Our courtship took place while he was in hospital, recovering after a car accident. By the time he was fit and well and able to make love, we were engaged, and I...I wanted to wait. It was only going to be for another short month and Simon said he didn’t mind. He said it would make our marriage all the more special.’
Tears pricked at her eyes as she remembered him saying that, and the warm, understanding kiss which had followed. She knew he’d been frustrated by then, but he’d been prepared to wait. She’d been the one who hadn’t been able to wait in the end.
And it had cost Simon his life.
That overwhelming sense of guilt swamped her, fiercer than it had been for years. Dear God, would she never forget? Or forgive herself?
One thing was for certain. She would never forgive Alexander Fairchild. The man was as good as guilty of murder in her opinion. She hated him with a passion, hated him for doing what he’d done to her, and to Simon.
A silence had fallen in the room, the only sound the flames crackling in the hearth.
‘You must have had some sort of relationship with Fairchild,’ Raymond resumed at last with relentless logic, ‘or he wouldn’t be able to turn you inside out like this.’
‘He was Simon’s best friend,’ she choked out, as though that explained everything.
‘So?’ Raymond was clearly puzzled. ‘That doesn’t make much sense, Judith. Look, I know you were engaged to this Simon person, and that he was killed in a motor accident a couple of days before your wedding. But what does Fairchild’s being his best friend have to do with that? Your fiancé was alone in the car, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then I don’t understand. Why don’t you try to make me understand, Judith?’
Shame compelled her to lie, plus the knowledge that Raymond would never understand or condone the truth. Not that she could blame him. She’d never understood or. condoned it herself.
‘Simon and Alexander had a violent argument that night,’ she explained, running her tongue over dry lips. ‘When Simon sped off crazily in the car, Alexander knew he was drunk and upset, but he...he didn’t try to stop him. He was directly responsible for the accident and Simon’s death, and I’ll never, ever forgive him!’
A frown creased Raymond’s high forehead. ‘What was the argument about?’
‘What?’
‘The argument between Fairchild and your fiancé.
What was it about?’
‘Oh...er...I don’t really know. There was a lot of shouting and a scuffle, then Simon drove off. What does it matter what it was about now? All I know is that Alexander was to blame for Simon’s death.’
‘You really think so?’
‘I know so! Why do you think I don’t want to go tonight? Why I can’t bear to be in the same room as him?’
Two totally exasperated eyes looked straight at her. ‘I never thought you were a fool, Judith, and I’m sure you’re not. I can well understand how distressed you must have been at the time of your fiancé’s death. But distress does have a way of distorting things in one’s mind. With the passing of the years, surely you can see now that Mr Fairchild was not to blame for the accident itself? A man is master of his own destiny. If your fiancé was drunk, he should have refrained from driving.’
Judith opened her mouth to protest but Raymond swept any objection aside.
‘Don’t forget how you originally met the man,’ he went on stolidly. ‘In hospital...after a car crash. Doesn’t sound like your Simon was the most sensible driver in the world. I think you’ve harboured an unfair grudge against Fairchild all these years, Judith, and it’s high time you put it aside.’
With a pompous flick of his wrist, Raymond checked the time on his wristwatch. ‘It is now six forty-three, my dear, and we are expected at eight. Let’s hear no more nonsense. Go and put on one of those glamorous gowns you’ve been buying lately. I want to be the envy of everyone there with my beautiful fiancée on my arm.’
Judith stared at Raymond. He actually meant it. He expected her to simply brush aside her distress as easily as he had and go to the party. He probably expected her to smile at Alexander and act as if nothing had ever happened between them.
He must have seen her shock for he suddenly leant forward and took her hands in his. ‘Come now, Judith, you can’t honestly expect me to ring Margaret up at the last minute and say you won’t be going. She would never understand.’
Judith nodded slowly. It was hopeless. She would have to go and that was all there was to it.
‘I am right, you know,’ Raymond insisted. ‘Your antagonism