An Excerpt From...
A Reason for Marriage
by Penny Jordan
'Jamie, it's great to have you here. We were so pleased
that you could come. I hardly ever get to see you these
days.You're looking tired though, Uncle Mark says you work
very hard.'
A brief smile curled Jamie's lip-glossed mouth as her
cousin mentioned her stepfather. She had been lucky there,
she acknowledged mentally; more than lucky when she
listened to other people's stories of their parents'
second marriages.
Of course the fact that her own father had died before she
was two probably had something to do with the fact that
she had accepted Mark so readily; that and the fact that
he had been as ready to love her as his daughter as she
had him as her father.
'He exaggerates, Beth,'Jamie told her cousin, lifting her
eyes from the second coat of lacquer she was applying to
her nails.
Her cousin's invitation to spend the weekend with her and
her husband in their Bristol home had coincided with a gap
in her work schedules. But now that she was here… She
stifled the sense of unease that had been growing in her
ever since her arrival just after lunch.
'Tell me about my goddaughter,'she instructed her
cousin. 'It's been almost six months since I last saw
her.'
'And whose fault is that?'Beth challenged indignantly 'We
went to Queensmeade for Christmas. Why weren't you there,
Jamie? Your mother was bitterly disappointed.'
Guilt momentarily chased the warning coolness from her
eyes as Jamie raised her head to look at her cousin.
'Business, I'm afraid. I had hoped to be there, but I was
offered a contract in New York I just couldn't pass up.'
Listening to the sound of her own voice, distant and
faintly aloof, Jamie had a momentary desire to break into
hysterical laughter at the falsity of the image she was
deliberately projecting, but she had hidden behind it for
so long now that it was almost part of her.
There wasn't one member of the family now who didn't look
at her and see the successful polished businesswoman she
had made herself become. Glancing down at her long
lacquered nails, she checked a faint sigh as she looked
back to the tomboy she had once been, running wild in the
large grounds of Queensmeade. But it was over ten years
now since she had been that girl, and between her and the
woman she now was there was a chasm that nothing could
bridge—and that was the way she wanted it.
'You can become re-acquainted with my daughter tomorrow,'
Beth told her firmly, refusing to be sidetracked. 'I want
to hear about you. Uncle Mark is terribly proud of you,
Jamie; more proud than he is of Jake, I sometimes think. I
read that article about you in Homes and Gardens the other
week, the photographs of the rooms you'd done were
fantastic.'
The feature in question had been a good one and had
resulted in a small avalanche of extra business for her
small decorating business, Jamie reflected.
The old paint finishes and manner of decorating were
becoming more and more popular, and she had never been
sorry that she had decided to switch from the more
traditional interior-designer career she had planned for
herself to what she considered the exciting challenge of
learning and improving on the traditional techniques of
marbling, graining, dragging and all the other styles of
paint decor which were now so fashionable.
'Whilst you're here I think I shall have to pick your
brains about this place,' Beth continued wryly. 'We were
full of plans when we moved in, but Richard's been so busy
that we haven't been able to do so much as buy a roll of
wallpaper.'
Richard, Beth's solidly placid husband, had recently
decided to break from his company and set up in business
on his own, and knowing the problems that could be
involved Jamie could well understand that decorating would
be the last item on his list of priorities.
'We'll go through the house together tomorrow,'she
promised her cousin, smiling when she saw her pleased
expression.
'I envy you,' the younger girl said with a faint
sigh. 'You always look so glamorous.'
Shrugging fine-boned shoulders Jamie told her
carelessly, 'It's just a façade, Beth, that's all; a
necessary part of my business to project a glossy,
expensive image, but I haven't changed, you know.'
Lifting blue eyes to her cousin's darker, almost violet
ones, Beth said seriously,
'No, I know you haven't, Jamie. It's a long time since
you've been to Queensmeade, isn't it?'
Catching the faint note of censure in her cousin's voice,
Jamie carefully blanked out every emotion from her
voice. 'TheYorkshire Dales are a long way from London.'She
saw the faint flicker of something in Beth's eyes, and
suddenly alarm clutched her heart-muscles. 'What is it,
Beth?' she demanded huskily. 'Is something wrong at home?
My mother, Mark?'
When had she started calling her stepfather Mark? To
strangers it might seem that she used his Christian name
to hold him at a distance, to differentiate between her
stepfather and her natural father, but that wasn't the
case. She had picked the habit up from Jake of course,
probably almost before she realised what she was doing.
Jake had been her god in those days; a magnificent and awe-
inspiring creature whom she was privileged to
call 'brother'…her mouth twisted a little bitterly. It
seemed incredible that she had ever been that naïve.
'I shouldn't have said anything,' Beth told her
guiltily. 'It's Mark, Jamie. He's been suffering from
chest pains for some time and the doctor's diagnosed a
heart condition—at the moment it's not too serious, but
he's been told he has to take things more easily—not to
worry so much.Your mother's persuading him to retire, to
hand control of the company over completely to Jake.'
It was no use pretending that it did not hurt to receive
this information second-hand from her cousin, but she had
no one to blame for that pain other than herself. She was,
after all, the one who had deliberately distanced herself
from her home, who had intentionally set out to carve
herself a career that would take her as far away as
possible. But she rang home regularly to speak to her
mother.
'Your mother didn't want to worry you,'Beth told her
sympathetically, seeing the pain in her eyes. 'She knows
how close you are to Uncle Mark.'
'Umm. I don't know how on earth she's going to get him to
slow down.'
Beth's expression lightened. 'Jake said exactly the same
thing. Funny how the two of you invariably come up with
the same reactions at the same time, and yet put you
together and you can't agree on a single thing. I remember
at our wedding, I thought you were about to come to blows.'
Jamie looked away from her, studying her nails
thoughtfully before reaching for the lacquer bottle to
apply a final coat.
'Yes,' she said carefully, her attention all for her
nails, 'It's always been like that.'
'No, it hasn't.'
Her heart lurched at the quiet challenge in Beth's
voice. 'Why don't the two of you get on any more, Jamie?'
Beth pressed. 'It hurts your mother and Uncle Mark
dreadfully. They both love both of you so much. Whenever
there's a family gathering it's noticeable that either you
or Jake will be there— but never both of you. It's almost
as though it's pre-planned.'
'Well, it isn't,' Jamie told her harshly, apologising with
a wry smile when she saw her cousin's faintly hurt
expression. 'I'm sorry. I'm a bit on edge. I hate flying,
especially across the Atlantic. I think I'm still
suffering from jet-lag.'
Jet-lag? Anguish and humiliation was closer to the mark
but those emotions belonged to a Jamie long dead and
buried, whom she was not going to disinter for anyone.
Observing the silken gleam of her cousin's straight fall
of dark red hair as she bent over her nails, Beth
tactfully changed the subject, asking enviously, 'How on
earth do you get your nail-polish like that?'
'It isn't hard. It just takes a good eye and a practised
hand,'
Jamie told her, grinning as she deftly applied the last
stroke and studied the finished effect. 'Besides, who's
going to employ me as a decorator if they see I can't even
paint my nails?'
'But I can't even get mine that long, never mind anything
else.'
'Ah well, you know what a sybaritic life I lead,' Jamie
mocked, lifting one eyebrow slightly.
It wasn't fair that one person should be given so much,
Beth thought, sighing for the waste of all her cousin's
feminine attributes on someone who declared openly and
coolly that she had no intention of marrying and that she
did not believe in love.
Maybe Jamie wasn't beautiful in the accepted sense of the
word, but she had something more than mere beauty. Looking
at her was like looking into a pool of deep, very still
water; so still that you found yourself holding your
breath and waiting for the faintest ripple across its
smooth surface. Jamie carried with her an aura of calm and
quietude, but she hadn't always been like that. Beth could
remember the tomboy teenager she had been, climbing trees,
running races, always covered in bruises and cuts. In
those days the violet eyes had laughed, the full mouth had
been mobile, her movements quicksilver.
At ten she had been desperately envious of her fourteen-
year-old cousin and the closeness she shared with her step-
brother. Even though he was at university Jake had still
spent a large part of his free time with his young
stepsister. They had been close in a way that she as an
only child had longed to imitate, but somewhere along the
way something had happened to that closeness, and now…
what? Now, whenever she mentioned Jake in Jamie's
presence, she could almost feel her cousin closing up on
her, and when she mentioned Jamie to Jake his mouth would
curl in that cynical way of his, his eyes as hard as chips
of ice.
'Sybaritic?' Beth questioned, trying not to let Jamie see
what she was thinking. 'Since when? Oh, I know you like to
give that impression, Jamie, but you work hard. Too hard,
Uncle Mark thinks.'
'Mark's a darling, but he's a bit old-fashioned when it
comes to women. He thinks we should all be like my mother
and crave only a husband, home and family.'
As she looked away from her cousin, Jamie hid her
expression with long lashes that fanned her high
cheekbones, giving her, although she did not know it, a
look of vulnerability. Once she too had craved those
things, had wanted nothing more from life than to love and
be loved in return.
'Try calcium tablets.' She turned to face Beth, smiling
lightly, as she firmly dismissed the past from her mind.
'Calcium tablets?' Beth looked thoroughly confused.
'For your nails,' Jamie told her, gently mockingly.
'I haven't made any plans for the weekend,' Beth told her,
changing the subject. 'I thought you might fancy an early
night tonight, and then tomorrow some friends of ours are
coming round to dinner—I'm longing to show off my clever
cousin…and Jake, of course,' Beth added absently. 'I
didn't tell you, did I, that his latest girlfriend's
family live only a short distance away.
'She's a nice girl—but young for Jake, though, I would
have thought. Very pretty and quite ambitious.'
Thank God she had been looking the other way, Jamie
thought, as she tried to still the frantic thudding of her
heart. Jake…coming here…her first impulse was to leave,
immediately, but she was trapped, she knew that. If she
left now Beth would guess. It was one thing for the family
to know that she and Jake disliked each other, but…
'Jamie, are you all right? You've gone dreadfully pale.'
'Redheads are supposed to be,' Jamie told her wryly,
slipping defensively behind her sophisticated mask. 'If
Mark's ill, I'm surprised that Jake can spare the time to
spend a weekend away.'
'Oh, well, I suppose it's partly business, Amanda's
father's company is merging with Brierton Plastics,
apparently. That's how Jake and Amanda met. It's no secret
that her parents are hoping they'll get married, but
personally I think Amanda's too young—she's only nineteen,
and a nice child, but somehow not what I thought Jake
would choose, if you know what I mean.' She wrinkled her
nose slightly and added, 'Of course, Uncle Mark would love
to see him married. He and your mother complain every time
I see them that you don't seem to be going to provide them
with grandchildren.'
'It does seem unlikely,' Jamie agreed levelly, praying
that Beth wouldn't see past her defences to what lay
behind. Jake married… Pain exploded inside her, tearing
her apart, making a mockery of the barriers it had taken
her six years to perfect. What was the matter with her?
She had known this day must come. Six years ago she had
known that Jake intended to marry. He wanted a son to
follow him into the business his own father had so
successfully built up. Jake was both ambitious and
determined. She knew that. And cruel, very, very cruel,
but she was over the pain of that now. The Jake she had
known and loved had never existed. That had simply been a
façade which he had hidden behind.
As she had told herself too many times over the
intervening years, she told herself again that at least
she had discovered the truth before it was too late,
before she had been the one trapped in a marriage of
ambition and greed.
She was not naïve now as she had been at eighteen, and she
knew enough of the world to realise that Jake was not
alone in wanting to marry for reasons advantageous to
himself, but his deliberate cruelty in deceiving her into
believing…
'Oh, heavens, there's the phone. Stay here and rest for a
little while, I'll bring you a cup of tea.'
Alone in the guest-room Beth had given her Jamie walked
over to the window and stared out across the countryside,
without seeing any of its beauty. Did this girl, this
Amanda, know what Jake was really like, or like her had
she been deceived? That lazily mocking smile, those cool
green eyes that suddenly could turn to fire, that mouth
that could…
Closing her eyes to blank out her thoughts, she clung
dizzily to the window ledge. Dear God, she was over this,
over it. She was a different person now from the innocent
trusting fool Jake had so cruelly deceived. He no longer
had the power to affect her in any way at all.
So why was her heart pounding so heavily? Why was she
remembering with such devastating clarity the feel of his
mouth against her own?
Her only salvation when she realised the truth had been
the knowledge that at least no one else knew what a fool
she had been. No one else knew that they had been lovers;
that Jake had whispered words of love to her and then
promised to marry her, only for her to discover from his
mistress that he was actually marrying her because he knew
that his father was splitting his estate between the two
of them; that she would have as many shares in the company
as Jake himself. At first she hadn't wanted to believe
Wanda's allegations, had indeed thought that the other
woman was simply jealously maligning Jake; but when she
had come round to his flat to tell him what had happened,
the first thing she had seen as she walked in through the
unlocked door had been Jake and Wanda in each other's arms.
Of course Jake had seen her, had called out to her, but
she hadn't stopped, running frantically back to her car,
and driving from York to Queensmeade as though the devil
himself were at her heels.
Mark and her mother had been on holiday at the time—a
month's holiday in Bermuda—which was why she and Jake had
not said anything to anyone about their plans, wanting to
save the surprise until their parents returned. She had
been working on a part-time basis for a York-based firm of
interior designers, but too humiliated and hurt to face
Jake she had changed her mind on reaching home, knowing
that he would come after her, and instead had turned her
car in the direction of the southbound motorway.
Her job didn't pay well, but she had an allowance from
Mark, and enough money in her bank account to pay for a
room in an inexpensive hotel for long enough for her to
sort out her life.