The Unexpected Child

‘Technically, I suppose you are, but I’m sure the term doesn’t really apply—not after three years at college.’

‘I’m an old-fashioned girl.’ Natalie could feel the colour rush into her cheeks as she spoke.

His snort of dismissive laughter was disturbing.

‘Not that old-fashioned, I’ll bet! You’re not trying to tell me you didn’t have a long line of suitors forming a queue outside your door?’

‘Hardly a line.’

‘There must have been someone. You’re not telling me that you spent three years at college and no one even asked you out. What were they all? Zombies?’

‘Nothing like that.’ Natalie’s laughter was close to being genuine, only a little exaggerated in order to ease the tension that still hung in the air. ‘But there was no one special.’

How could there have been, when the man she loved most in all the world was sitting opposite her right now, so close that all she had to do was reach out a hand and she could touch him, stroke his cheek, brush back the lock of silky black hair that had fallen over his forehead—?

Becoming aware of the way that Pierce was watching her, the disturbing intensity of that sapphire-blue gaze, she dragged herself back to reality with an effort.

‘But you’re not claiming that no one got a look-in?’.

‘If by “a look-in” you mean did any of them move in with me or vice versa, then no!’

Natalie stirred the coffee she had made with unnecessary force, before placing the mug on the table beside him, hoping that the jerky movement conveyed more indignation than the uneasy churning in the pit of her stomach she was actually feeling.

‘Why are you harping on about this? I told you I was an old-fashioned sort of girl.’

‘I’m not harping, just interested—and that’s not so much old-fashioned as positively puritanical.’ Pierce laughed. ‘Are you trying to claim that you were waiting for Mr Right to come along?’ He sounded frankly incredulous, a deeply sardonic amusement lacing his tone.

But what he had said was just a bit too close to the truth for comfort. Belatedly, Natalie realised that instead of damping down his curiosity she was in fact fanning its flames with her attempts to dodge his questions.

‘Oh, all right, there was one man—Gerry. We were—close all the time I was at college.’

Gerry wouldn’t mind his name being taken in vain. He had wanted to be more to her than a friend. In fact, they had shared several very pleasant evenings which, for his part, he might have thought would lead to greater things, but which to Natalie were simply that—enjoyable nights out with an attractive man as her escort. The lighthearted kisses she had given him had remained totally uninvolved, sparking off none of the disturbing sensations that Pierce’s lightest touch could arouse.

‘I thought there must have been—when do you see him?’

‘I don’t.’ It might have been safer to pretend to an ongoing, passionate relationship with Gerry, but she couldn’t do it. ‘When we left Sheffield he got a job in Edinburgh.’

‘And it’s not a case of absence making the heart grow fonder?’

‘More like out of sight, out of mind, though we do write occasionally.’

‘Very occasionally, from the sound of your voice,’ Pierce murmured. ‘Whatever your Gerry did, it certainly riled you.’

‘It’s not what he did—it’s what you’re doing.’

‘Me?’ Pierce froze, his mug half raised, his look of confusion so apparently uncontrived that Natalie could almost believe it was genuine.

‘Yes, you—you’re prying into my private life.’ The knowledge of how dangerously close he had come to the truth made her voice tart. ‘Asking too many questions.’

‘The privilege isn’t exclusive,’ Pierce returned, surprising her. ‘You can ask as well as answer. Oh, come on, Nat!’ he laughed when she looked distinctly sceptical. ‘This isn’t the girl I know and love! As I recall, the problem used to be shutting you up rather than getting you to talk.’

‘And I can ask anything?’ Natalie asked with only a tiny shake in her voice. Her peace of mind demanded that she try to ignore that ‘I know and love’, being only too well aware of just how cynically it was meant.

‘Anything within reason.’

‘Then why did you decide to get married?’

The question was so close to the surface of her mind that it burst from her before she had time to consider whether it was really wise, but at least she bad enough presence of mind to catch herself up in time and not add the name that would have revealed that what she really wanted to ask was ‘Why did you want to marry Phillippa?’

But she’d overstepped the mark this time; she knew it as she saw the way that his face closed up, his mouth hardening, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

‘It’s all right! I shouldn’t-’

‘You asked—I’ll answer. After all—’ Pierce’s laugh was a travesty of genuine humour, no warmth in it at all ‘—after what’s happened, it would probably be a good idea to have a look at my motives—see exactly how I got myself into this mess.’

If she had regretted the question moments before, then now she wished she had cut her tongue out—anything other than push him into this darkly cynical frame of mind which made her want to weep for the loss of the ease they had shared only a short time before.

‘I always wanted to get married—’

‘It looked that way!’ Natalie couldn’t help retorting, recalling the seemingly endless stream of girlfriends that had blighted her adolescence.

‘Oh, damn it, Nat! Don’t look so sceptical! What’s wrong with playing the field until you find the right person—the one you want to settle down with?’

‘Nothing,’ she was forced to mutter, incapable of injecting any enthusiasm into the word, being only too painfully aware of the fact that Pierce believed he had found ‘the right person’ in Phillippa. ‘But I don’t know about field—it was more like fields—acres of them,’ she added in an attempt to conceal her private pain.

‘But I never led anyone on, let them think it was serious when it was nothing of the sort. Every girl I ever dated knew exactly where she stood—that there was no commitment—just a lot of fun. They all had a good time, and so did I—you know how it is.’

Natalie managed an inarticulate murmur that she hoped he would take as agreement. She wished she did know how it was. She had tried dating for fun, both at school and, later, at college, and she had enjoyed the company of the men she’d gone out with—some more than others—but that was all, and in the end it had all been ultimately disappointing.

‘No?’ She hadn’t convinced him.

‘I have to admit that I find no-commitment relationships rather like just treading water—not going anywhere and so frustratingly unproductive. I’m afraid I’m an all or nothing sort of person.’

And Pierce was all she wanted, but she couldn’t have him and so would she have to settle for nothing?

‘You always were far too serious for your own good. It was never like that for me—until my father died.’

Pierce stared down into the coffee in his mug, a frown drawing his dark, straight brows together.

‘Then I came up hard against a terrible realisation of my own mortality—one that was enhanced by a strong sense of responsibility.’

‘Responsibility?’

‘Like my dad, I’d always wanted children, but suddenly that need was overlaid by the realisation that the Donellan line depended on me. The Manor has been in our family for centuries and I know Dad wanted it to continue that way—I want it too. I suppose that sounds positively feudal to you.’

‘Not really.’

Natalie chose her words with care, painfully aware of the flatness of his voice on that ‘I’d always wanted children’. He’d wanted a family and now, because of Phillippa’s decision, he would be denied that. He sounded as if he had lost sight of all his dreams.