Deceit Of A Pagan. Carole Mortimer

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Deceit Of A Pagan - Carole  Mortimer


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are you thinking about now?’ Leondro Marcose demanded arrogantly.

      ‘I was thinking that I will marry you after all. But on one condition.’

      His head flicked back haughtily. ‘I hardly think you are in a position to make conditions, do you?’

      Templar shrugged her shoulders. ‘That’s up to you, of course. But my condition is this—I will not be pushed off into the background of your life as if you’re ashamed of me. If that’s the case then I think the baby and myself will be better off without you. If we’re to be man and wife then I at least insist that we live in the same house.’

      ‘You will insist on nothing! You will do as you are told! You know as well as I that we have no desire to share the same house.’ His eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Or have you decided to try your womanly charms on me after all?’

      ‘Certainly not!’ Templar blushed a fiery red at his wrong conclusion to her plan. She merely hoped he would change his mind about marrying her and simply look after her and the baby instead. ‘That was the last thought on my mind. But if we’re marrying to provide a stable home for Keri I do think it would be better—for her—if her mother and father lived together. Or do you intend to be a shadowy figure who appears in her life every six months or so and showers her with gifts?’

      ‘That was not my intention. But neither was it my intention to live with you. You must see that it is impossible.’

      Oh, she did, only too well—that was the whole point. ‘Then I’m afraid the idea of marriage is impossible too. It just wouldn’t work any other way. What could I say to Keri when she’s older and wants to know why we live apart? That’s almost as cruel as not having a father at all, crueller in some ways.’

      ‘Good God, you talk as if the situation you find yourself in was my fault!’

      ‘And isn’t it? Isn’t it? Alex was your brother. Didn’t he do exactly what you would have done in the same position? Didn’t he?’ she demanded.

      He held himself stiffly. ‘I have never refused to face up to my responsibilities, and neither has Alex. He would have provided for you if you had informed him of your—condition.’

      ‘And if I didn’t want his charity?’

      ‘Then you were a very stubborn as well as stupid girl. But no matter, I regret I cannot live with you.’

      ‘Oh, don’t regret it,’ Templar said smugly. ‘I thought that might be your answer, and in the circumstances I can’t marry you. If you choose to take me to court about the baby’s guardianship that’s up to you, but I’ll fight it. Oh yes, I’ll fight it! I don’t think you would like the publicity any more than I would.’

      ‘Perhaps not, but I would win.’

      ‘Naturally,’ she admitted. ‘But would you like to put Keri through all that?’

      ‘Would you? Oh, very well! We will share a house. It will have to be near London, I have too many business ties here to live anywhere else.’ He looked impatiently angry at her blackmail.

      Templar was dumbstruck, her plan backfiring on her. She hadn’t expected this. She had thought he would drop his ideas of marriage and instead she had made matters worse. She would now have to share a home with this man. She shuddered at the thought of it. ‘Um—–’ she hesitated. ‘Perhaps—perhaps you were right. We—we could live apart.’

      ‘No, you are right. Keri needs both parents.’

      Templar felt a sick sinking feeling in her stomach. What had she let herself in for now?

       CHAPTER THREE

      TEMPLAR relaxed back on the garden lounger, smiling happily as Keri crawled about at her feet. They spent most of their afternoons like this and already, after only a few weeks, the two of them were attaining a healthy glow that had been sadly lacking. To Keri the huge garden was like a forest, and she loved nothing better than exploring its green depths.

      It was three weeks since Templar’s quiet wedding to Leondro Marcose, or Leon as she now called him. Not that they were any more friendly towards one another, but she could hardly address her own husband as Mr Marcose. Mrs Harvey, the housekeeper Leon had engaged, would have found that very odd, even odder than their sleeping arrangements. Leon’s bedroom certainly adjoined her own, but the door between them was firmly locked and she could only assume that Leon had the key; she had certainly never seen it.

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