Michael’s brows creased. “And you made that promise?”
“Peter was dying,” she said miserably. “And I still loved him-sort of. I’d grown, but he hadn’t. By the time he died it was more a maternal sort of love. I knew why he hurt me-why he acted like he did-but there was nothing he could do to change it. He was desperately injured. I was grief-stricken, in the early stages of pregnancy, alone in a strange country, and I was in shock. I’d have promised him anything if it would ease his distress.”
“But you didn’t mean it?”
“At the time, I did,” she told him bleakly. “I guess I thought I could do what he wanted-go home to England, live on the estate and become the next earl’s mother. There didn’t seem any choice. It was only after Peter’s death, when Gloria started laying down the rules, that I saw clearly what was involved. Or rather, that I wouldn’t be involved at all. I’d be welcome to have access visits as long as I didn’t take my son off the estate. I’d have a generous allowance as long as I gave my son none of my commoner ideals.”
“The woman’s an autocratic dragon! There’s no way you can do things her way.”
“Yeah, but I promised.”
“Jen, it’s unreasonable.”
“I know that.” A hint of defiance returned. “That’s why I’m still here. But it doesn’t make it one bit better. It’s like I can’t bury Peter in my mind. He’s hanging over me, like a sad ghost, reminding me that I’ve betrayed his last wish. And I can’t get on with anything.”
“You mean you can’t love me?”
She met his eyes. “Michael, I do love you,” she said softly. “You are the kindest, most generous person that I know. But I still feel that I’m married. As if part of me is still tied to Peter and will be forever, and in some stupid way it’s tied to that broken promise. Thank you for trying, Michael, but for now…let’s just leave it as it is. I need to come to terms with what I’ve done in my own way. For me, marriage-a proper marriage, with hearts involved, not the one we’ve made to keep me in the States-seems like one last betrayal.”
“When you kissed me then, it was because you wanted…”
“Because I wanted you,” she whispered, the faintest tremor behind her words betraying her turmoil. “But then, I’ve always wanted what I can’t have. Love.”
“Let me love you.” His voice was urgent-insistent-but she moved away.
“No. You mustn’t. Because betraying Peter again would drive me to the wall.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
HOW COULD YOU fight a ghost?
There was no hope, and by the end of the following week, Michael decided he was going nuts.
This was some crazy situation, he thought grimly. All his life he’d run from emotional attachment, and now, here he was practically wearing his heart on his sleeve, and Jenny was holding him at arm’s length and flinching every time he laid a finger on her.
She was afraid. Afraid of him! Not of what he’d do to her. He knew her well enough to believe she trusted him. She was afraid of what she might feel if she let him close. So he’d walk into the room and she’d hug the dog or curl up on the end of the sofa with Socks between her and the world. Or she’d be out walking when he came home from some errand and she’d read a book after supper-or smile and talk him through his day, keeping the conversation casual, as if she were his best buddy instead of his wife!
And all the time there was this tiny glimmer of fear in the back of her eyes that drove him nuts. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss the fear away, tell her it was okay, he’d never hurt her and he’d never make her feel she was tying him down.
Damn, why had he ever told her he didn’t want emotional commitment? But he had, and that-along with Peter’s ghost-was enough to make her run scared.
“SO WHAT’S UP, bro?” Garrett caught up with him the day he came back to work. He only had to look at his little brother’s face to know something was wrong. Michael looked strained to breaking point. “I thought you just had a week off.”
“I did.”
“You look like you’ve run a marathon.”
“Yeah, well, you try sleeping in the same house as Jenny,” Michael growled, and Garrett’s eyes widened.
“Hey, she’s some lady. I wouldn’t think you’d mind sleeping in the same bed as Jenny.”
“That’s just it.” Michael slammed his fist on his desk with such force that his new secretary gave a startled glance his way. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same bed as Jenny.”
“Uh-oh.” Garrett grinned and rose lazily to close the door on the flapping ears outside. “I see. So sleeping in a different room is the problem. The lady’s almost nine months pregnant with another man’s child,” he said gently. “You need to give her space.”
“I love her, Garrett,” Michael said, and put his head in his hands and groaned.
Silence.
“You love her,” Garrett said at last, in a voice that sounded strange. Obviously he was having trouble taking this in.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s great.”
“Not when she doesn’t want me.”
“Heck, Mike, give her a chance. She must have so many mixed-up hormones pounding around right now. Dead husband, pregnancy, marriage…”
“You recommend patience?”
“Hey, I don’t know,” Garrett said, exasperated. “You’re asking me about women? Short of Lana and Shelby, I know nothing. They’re a breed apart. Ask Lana.”
“Ask her what?”
“What to do,” Garrett said unhelpfully. “Meanwhile, think of all the hearts you’ve broken in your time. It won’t hurt you to get a taste of your own medicine.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” Garrett said expansively. “Now, why I came to see you…” He hauled a list out of his pocket and tossed it onto Michael’s desk. “Here’s a security check for you.”
“What’s this?” Michael picked the paper up and stared listlessly at the row of names.
“Possible parents. Shelby and I are working on it already, but we’d like you to give us a hand.”
He froze. “What the heck… I told you, I don’t want to know.”
“The girls do,” Garrett said. “Lana’s changed her mind since she married Dylan. Somewhere out there is our birth mother, Mike, and there’s a gut feeling among me and the girls that she’s hurting. We need to find her.”
“I don’t.”
“Mike, you’ve held yourself in that icy cocoon for too many years,” Garrett said gently. “Jenny’s chipped away at the ice, and there’s warmth under there. While you’re waiting for her to come around, use the warmth for someone other than yourself. Maybe Jenny can teach you how.”
“Jenny!”
“Yeah, Jenny,” Garrett said firmly. “If Jenny hadn’t found you-if she’d ended up destitute-maybe she would have given up her baby rather than see it starve. And if she did, would the hurt of losing her child have disappeared after all this time? I don’t think so, Mike, and neither do you.”
“Garrett, I…”
“Just look at the list,” Garrett said firmly. “Talk to Jenny about it. See what she thinks.”
“It’s none of her business.”
“If you want her to love you, you have to learn to share.” He hesitated. There was real pain on Michael’s face, and Garrett didn’t want to push it, but if the ice was cracking, he wouldn’t be the one to withhold the sledgehammer. “On Saturday night there’s a party at Megan’s to welcome Camille and Jake home from their honeymoon. It promises to be a real shindig. Fireworks, everything. Now her family’s all settled, Megan’s feeling like she’s on top of the world, and she’s showing it every way she can.”
“I’m not coming to any family party. You know I won’t.”
“Megan’ll be disappointed if you’re not there, little brother,” Garrett said, and hauled his lanky frame out of the chair. “And if we’re talking of hurting people, there’s one lady you’ll leave untouched. Hurt Megan and I’ll dust you down before breakfast. Or give it my best shot.” He shrugged and pushed the list across the desk again from where Michael had thrust it back at him. “Do what you can with that by Saturday. And bring Jenny to supper at my place first.”