Permission To Love. PENNY JORDAN
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with stubborn resistance. He had even flinched away from her when she tried to touch him, his eyes cold and hard. ‘You can’t stay here alone with me,’ he had told her bluntly.
It was then that she had grown up. ‘Not quite six months ago you were telling me to take charge of my own life, Lucas,’ she had reminded him coolly.
His smile had been openly derisive. ‘That was before I realised how incapable of doing so you are. You’ve been brought up almost from birth to fulfil one purpose and one alone Lindsay. Your father had made it plain what he expects me to do … I owe him too much to ignore his wishes.’
‘But I don’t want to go to finishing school and I don’t want to marry Richard.’
He had looked at her broodingly after her passionate outburst and then asked, ‘So, what do you want to do.’
What might have happened if she hadn’t said those next foolish words? There was no knowing. ‘I want to stay here with you,’ she had told him emotionally.
His whole expression had changed, hardening, rejecting her silent plea for understanding.
‘What as Lindsay?’ he had demanded harshly, ‘My bed-mate? Because that’s what everyone will think you are. Look at yourself.’ He had spun her round so that she could see her own reflection in the mirror. ‘Although you may not know it yet there’s a potent streak of sensuality in your nature. You might be innocent, but you don’t look it, and if we continue to live here alone, your reputation will be ruined.’
There were so many things she could have said—they could have got a housekeeper … they could have … but what was the use of thinking that now. His announcement had shocked her, stunned her into silence and pain. All she was aware of was his rejection. Did he, like Gwendolin, think she harboured some secret love for him. Was that why he was so keen to get rid of her. Pain heaped up on pain and suddenly all she wanted to do was to be free … free to escape from Lucas and from her pain.
She had left that night, taking with her a suitcase and Post Office savings book.
It hadn’t taken Lucas long to track her down to the dingy lodgings which were all she had managed to afford. One look at his grimly angry face as he opened the door and stared at her had killed for all time any childish longing she might still have had that she could run into the safe harbour of his arms and that everything would be made all right.
‘Pack your things, I’m taking you home.’ That was all he said to her, and it wasn’t until he had got her back to Dorset that he broke the shattering news to her that he was going to marry Gwendolin. Of course she knew that Gwendolin wanted him. The look in the older woman’s eyes when she looked at him was openly obvious, embarrassingly so, but although Lucas had had plenty of girlfriends, Lindsay had never seen him single Gwendolin out for any special attention, but now he was telling her he was going to marry her. Remembering Gwendolin’s claim that no wife of Lucas’ would want her around, she announced grimly that he had wasted his time in bringing her back because the moment the wedding was over she was going to leave.
They had argued about it up until the wedding and beyond. Lucas had even postponed having a honeymoon because he did not trust her not to run away while he was gone. After he had married, his temper had become even more savage, and Lindsay had suffered several verbal maulings from him because he eventually conceded that it might be best for her to live away from home. He had suggested university, but by that stage she was in no mood to fall in with any of his suggestions and so had insisted on London. What a trial she must have been to him. It was no wonder he was always so cool and distant to her on the rare occasions when she did go back. Her father had left the house to them jointly … but she never thought of it as home now. Gwendolin had brought in a firm of designers once she and Lucas were married, and although the results were very stylish Lindsay found them cold and unappealing. But now she would have to go back. Lucas would have to know she was getting married and Jeremy was right. It would be both silly and childish to leave him to find out second or even third hand. And what was more, it would be cowardly too, Lindsay admitted. She had been avoiding facing Lucas for far too long.
CHAPTER TWO
THE soft Dorset burr of the woman who answered the telephone was unfamiliar to her. Gwendolin had employed a live-in couple from Barbados when she and Lucas were first married, and Lindsay wondered if perhaps they had left. If so, she was not surprised. In her opinion Gwendolin had overworked them unmercifully. But never when Lucas was there. No, Lindsay had learned early on in her relationship with the older woman that Gwendolin presented a far different face to those whom she wanted to impress than she did to those she didn’t, and Lindsay herself, and her staff were patently among those she did not.
At first when Lucas had announced that he was to marry Gwendolin she had been shocked, and yes hurt somehow, although she knew the latter emotion to be an unreasonable one. Of course it was natural that Lucas should want to marry. He had had many girlfriends, some of whom she had liked in a luke-warm sort of way and some of whom she had not, but at the time he had made his announcement to her she had been almost overwhelmed by something approaching revulsion that he should even contemplate marrying Gwendolin. For one thing she had pursued him so blatantly that Lindsay had been sure Lucas would reject her on those grounds alone. For another it was widely gossiped locally that Gwen had had more than one affair. She had been no inexperienced girl when she married Lucas, and Lindsay vividly remembered her own sense of inadequacy and embarrassment when Gwendolin had once mocked her for her own inexperience. She shivered slightly even now, not wanting to picture Lucas and Gwen as lovers, but unable to stop herself from doing so, images of Lucas’ athletic naked body sensually entwined with that of his dark-haired wife. The sensations aroused by the images stunned her. Distaste caused nausea to rise up in her throat and almost choke her. What was wrong with her that she could feel like this about another couple and yet when it came to Jeremy … or any other man for that matter … she felt so intrinsically cold?
Gathering her thoughts together she asked to speak to Lucas and was told by the new housekeeper who introduced herself as Mrs James that he was away on business overnight.
‘Yes,’ she confirmed she did expect him back by the weekend, when Lindsay introduced herself. Forcing down her reluctance Lindsay asked to speak to Gwendolin. There was a small hesitant pause before Mrs James said uncertainly, ‘I’m afraid Mrs Armitage is not here either.’
Taking a chance, Lindsay arranged with Mrs James that she and Jeremy would arrive late Friday evening. As they had to go and visit Jeremy’s parents the following weekend, she would have to tell Lucas about her forthcoming engagement soon, and although she would have preferred to do so by ‘phone, Jeremy who was a stickler for everything that was proper and correct, would frown over her doing so.
It amazed her that after all this time the rift that had opened up between herself and Lucas that last summer, should still hurt her so much. She was six years older for goodness sake, no longer a teenager but an adult herself. At Gwendolin’s insistence she had always spent Christmas at home with them, but she had always found her visits uncomfortable occasions, longing for them to be over. Gwendolin was an extremely social person and the house always seemed to be packed with guests; friends of hers in the main, unknown to Lindsay and whom she did not find particularly convivial. Lucas always remained remote and cold towards her appearing, so it seemed to avoid her company, reminding her shamingly of Gwendolin’s assertions that he had found Lindsay’s feelings for him embarrassing and annoying. In many ways it did not surprise her that they had not had children—Gwendolin was the most unmaternal woman she had ever met, but Lucas, she remembered had always been good with them and she would have expected him to want a family of his own.
Sighing faintly as she replaced the receiver, she tried to concentrate on her work, but her mind kept wandering, replaying memories from her childhood, Lucas … playing tennis with her, coaching her … Lucas, helping her with her homework … The warmth he had always shown her and the loneliness she had felt when he went to university. She heard a door slam and realised that Caroline was back. Her flatmate poked her head round the study door, having knocked briefly.
‘Busy?’ she enquired,