Permission To Love

Suddenly Lindsay was tired of tormenting him. Was it his fault that like her he had been brought up to accept that his future lay along certain lines? She knew all about Jeremy’s family. Her flat mate Caroline was a distant cousin of his. The title went back to Regency times and since the first world war the family had had to struggle to hold on to their land. Jeremy’s grandmother had been the daughter of a wealthy American, but Jeremy’s father had been one of four children and their mother had insisted that her money was divided equally between them. Jeremy himself had two younger sisters. As the only son it was his duty to marry someone wealthy enough to help him retain the family home. Lindsay could understand Jeremy’s position. She also suspected that his family were not too keen on her. She had met them all at Christmas. His mother had been coolly distant; his father overjovial. Lindsay had sensed them thinking that she was not really their type; she loathed hunting for instance and Jeremy’s father was Master of the local Hunt. She also had a career whilst Jeremy’s mother had made it clear that anyone who married her son would have to devote herself to the type of committee/good works life she enjoyed. She was torn, Lindsay knew that. She and Jeremy had known each other for several years. She had met him through Caroline and they had several interests in common. She knew he would make her a good husband—if somewhat dull. He was a very placid man, stuffy in some ways perhaps as befitted a junior partner in an old established firm of stockbrokers. He tended to look down on Lindsay’s work. She worked for one of the foremost Unit Trust organisations in the country, and the salary she earned through selling their Unit Trusts was phenomenal. There was more of her father in her than he had ever suspected, she often thought. She enjoyed the cut and thrust of her business life, and yet another side of her, her mother’s side perhaps, yearned for a home and children.

‘Sex isn’t everything.’ Jeremy looked embarrassed as he made the comment. Lindsay had discovered early on in their relationship that anything to do with such a personal topic embarrassed him. When she had first guessed that he intended to propose to her she had suggested they went away on holiday together. She was a virgin by choice, never having met any man whose touch or kisses aroused her to the point where she craved his possession and she desperately wanted to feel at least some of that craving for Jeremy, but he had been horrified by her suggestion. Rather stiffly he had told her that he had too much respect for her to take advantage of her suggestion; indeed he had gone on to say that he had heard that she had a reputation for being unobtainable sexually and she had sensed then that this had pleased him. She had chosen Jeremy freely and yet every now and then nagging doubts arose. Was there perhaps something wrong with her? Was she totally incapable of intense sexual desire? There were people with low libidoes and if she was one of them it was as well that she was marrying a man like Jeremy.

Contrite, she proffered a brief smile. ‘No, perhaps you’re right,’ she agreed.

Relieved Jeremy smiled back at her. ‘So you’ll arrange for us to visit your brother and his wife this weekend?’

Sensing his impatience to return to his office, Lindsay nodded her head. She wasn’t looking forward to going down to Dorset but it would have to be done. Although she was well over age for a legal guardian, she still had to have Lucas’ approval to her prospective husband before she could come into her inheritance, and Jeremy would not want her without it. Not that Lucas was likely to disapprove. Jeremy was everything her father had wanted for her in a husband. Who would have thought that Lucas could change so much? Jeremy was paying the bill; Lindsay stood up. She intended going straight back to her flat after lunch. She had taken the afternoon off, but there was some paperwork she wanted to catch up on. Jeremy kissed her briefly on the cheek before depositing her in a taxi. His lips were dry and faintly chill. Sighing, Lindsay gave the driver her address.

Lucas had bought the flat for her when she first came to London and it was situated in an elegant Regency block. At first she had raged that she could manage on her own, but a month of living in grotty digs, feeding herself on beans and toast every night had soon brought her down to earth. It had been Lucas who insisted on her advertising for a flat-mate and who had carefully vetted the applicants. She had taken little interest in the proceedings. It had been pride and nothing more that had led to her leaving home, and the pain of parting from all that she loved; the pain of being betrayed by the one person she had thought would never let her down had anaesthetized her against feeling anything else.

She had worked hard to get where she was and she was proud of her success. Jeremy wanted her to give up work when they married. Sighing faintly, Lindsay paid off her taxi and walked towards her front door.

She had decorated the flat herself, choosing soft, feminine shades of peaches and greys and she was very pleased with the effect of the pale peachy rag-rolled walls, and the soft, plain grey carpet. Ignoring the large sitting room she went instead into her own small study. Because of the nature of her work her hours were flexible and she could if she chose, work at home in preference to in an office, and her flatmate knew that this particular room was out of bounds to everyone apart from Lindsay herself.

It should have been the easiest thing in the world to simply pick up the ‘phone and tell Lucas that she was going down this weekend.

It hadn’t come as a surprise to her on her father’s death to learn that he had appointed Lucas as her guardian and that he had left Lucas in charge of his business empire. The house had been left to them jointly but there was a stipulation in her father’s will that unless she married, Lucas would always have control of her inheritance and that when she did marry it must be to a man whom Lucas approved of.

She had been stunned by this knowledge, but at sixteen the trauma of coping with the death of her father and Sheila had vastly overridden any concern she might have felt about the will.

Her father had been dead for three months before she began to realise how much Lucas had changed. For a start he had tried to insist that she went to finishing school as her father had wanted her to. That had been his first betrayal and the shock of it had caused her almost as much pain as her father’s death. Lucas himself had been the one to tell her to make her own way in life, but when she tackled him about this he had simply said grimly that things had changed.

It was about that time that she had first become aware of Gwendolin. She had never particularly liked the older girl, who was the daughter of her father’s solicitor, and her constant visits to the house under the guise of ‘helping’ made her feel extremely prickly. She wasn’t a child, she remembered telling Lucas hotly on one occasion; she was more than capable of seeing that they ate proper meals … and that the house was kept clean.

After Sheila had married her father they had never taken on another housekeeper, Sheila preferred to manage with help from the village, and at the time she had not properly understood Lucas’ grim, ‘That you’re not!’

Which only went to prove how much of a child she actually had been. No. It had taken Gwendolin to open her eyes to the truth. People were talking about her and Lucas, she had told Lindsay spitefully. And when she had asked why, Gwendolin had pointed out that they weren’t related by blood. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at him,’ she had added nastily. ‘Poor Lucas, he must find it difficult to deal with such a mammoth crush. It isn’t fair to him at all of your father to have landed him with the responsibility of you. And what about when he marries?’

Lucas married? A coldness had crept through her limbs. ‘What’s the matter,’ Gwendolin had demanded acidly. ‘Surely you realise that Lucas is an extremely virile man? Naturally he will marry … and when he does you can hardly suppose his wife will want a teenage stepsister on her hands.’

Lindsay knew without having to hear it in so many words that when Gwendolin talked of Lucas’ wife, it was herself she had in mind. A deep pain tore through Lindsay when she turned the conversation over in her mind later. She didn’t want to lose Lucas as well … not so soon after losing her father and Sheila, and marriage would take him away from her … she knew that.

Gwendolin hadn’t been content to leave matters there. She had told Lindsay in Lucas’ hearing that people were starting to talk … that there were those who thought it wrong for a teenage girl to live so closely with a man who after all was no blood relation to her. Lindsay had been instantly defensive. ‘Lucas might not be my brother,’ she had cried painfully, ‘but I love him as one …’ Can’t you see, she had wanted to say, he’s all I’ve got left, but the words had stuck in her throat, and later on when Lucas had changed from the warm, smiling man she knew into a grim-faced stranger she had been filled with dread.

At first when he had insisted on taking her out with him when he went visiting their neighbours she had thought it was because he wanted her company, but her pleasure had turned to pain when she realised the truth. He was trying to get her married and off his hands.

He gave her the ultimatum the night after Richard Browne had approached him for permission to marry her. Either she accepted Richard or she went to finishing school.

His treatment of her had hurt her bitterly. Where was the Lucas she knew and loved? All her appeals to him met 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, ‘Or do you fancy a coffee?’

‘I’d love one. I ought to be working,’ Lindsay admitted, ‘but I just can’t turn my mind to it.’

‘Mmm … I wonder why. Most unlike you.’ Caroline looked at her shrewdly. ‘Your inability to concentrate wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain cousin of mine would it?’

‘Sort of. We’re going down to see Jeremy’s parents the weekend after next,’ Lindsay told her, answering her unspoken question.

Caroline grimaced faintly and rolled her eyes. ‘Poor you. His mother’s a bit of a stickler. Jeremy’s the apple of her eye of course, and no girl could possibly be worthy of him. Of course you have got one thing in your favour.’

‘My money you mean?’ Lindsay stood up with fluid grace, kneading the tension knots at the back of her neck. ‘Mmm …’

‘Still you’re hardly springing a surprise on them,’ Caroline comforted. ‘Ma was saying the last time I went home that it was high time the pair of you got engaged. What about your family?’

‘Well there’s only Lucas of course,’ Lindsay told her. ‘Jeremy and I are going down to see him this weekend.’

‘Lucky you.’ Caroline dimpled a smile of feminine envy at her. ‘It’s just as well that he’s your stepbrother and safely married, otherwise poor Jeremy wouldn’t stand a chance.’ She saw Lindsay’s expression and grinned. ‘Oh come on Lin, surely even you can see that he’s living, breathing temptation to our poor vulnerable sex. The dreadful thing is that he doesn’t even seem to be aware of the effect he has on us. I wonder what he ever saw in Gwendolin.’