SARA WOOD

Amber's Wedding


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‘Something else, then?’

      She’d been about to mention their friendship, the close bond she thought they could have. But something faintly suggestive in his tone prevented her. She stuck to the facts instead.

      ‘We both want the convenience of a marriage without love, don’t we?’ she asked, a little unevenly.

      To be honest, it wasn’t really what she’d expected. Once, she’d believed that marriage stood for love and commitment. But circumstances meant that she’d had to make a choice under pressure.

      There had been cholera in the camp. The doctor there who’d examined her and confirmed her pregnancy had insisted that she return home at once. She’d known that it would only be a little while before everyone in Castlestowe knew of her shame, and that she might have to leave her beloved home. She couldn’t have borne that. So Jake had offered her a solution.

      ‘No love, no ties. What more could a confirmed bachelor desire?’ he drawled now, his dark lashes veiling his eyes. Amber wondered what he was hiding. Nervously, she fiddled with her neckline. Jake cleared his throat and continued.

      ‘I’ve always said that a wife and children would be millstones around the neck of a war correspondent like me,’ he murmured. ‘A man would be a fool to walk into a danger zone and risk snipers’ bullets if he had a woman and child he loved at home.’

      ‘Whereas I won’t make any difference to the way you feel, will I? And don’t worry, I know that your nomadic existence has made you more independent than most and you balk at restrictions and routine. I won’t tie you down.’

      ‘I’m relieved.’ Jake gave her a crooked smile. ‘If I’m to have a wife, I’d prefer to be her friend. Friends give one another space. I know you want very little from me, and that suits me fine. I can’t stand women who cling. Our arrangement is ideal.’

      ‘Because you don’t need to pretend you love me.’

      His mouth took on a wry twist. ‘I don’t need to pretend that, no,’ he said huskily.

      Amber wondered what had happened to make Jake so detached. He’d hinted of a broken heart—one that would never mend. It explained why he always kept a part of himself back. Hopefully, he’d learn to trust her in time and share some of his past with her. As to the future...

      Suddenly she thought of him lying dead somewhere abroad and she went pale. ‘You’ll still risk your life, I suppose,’ she said quietly.

      ‘It’s my job. My job is my life. I feel a passionate need to tell the world what is happening out there, to report the truth and help to prevent injustice.’ He gave a short laugh and met her eyes again. ‘I’m very hot on injustice, Amber.’

      She smiled. ‘I admire that,’ she said earnestly. ‘It colours everything you do. Your parents must be very proud of you.’

      ‘Less proud of my professional achievements than they are to hear I’m married at last,’ he said ruefully.

      She laughed with him. His parents had been obsessed with his bachelor state. Occasionally, after ringing their home in Kenya, he’d met her in the camp mess tent and exasperatedly confided that all they could ask was whether he’d found a nice girl yet.

      ‘The heat would have been off you if you’d had brothers or sisters,’ she said sympathetically.

      He shrugged, a hard line to his mouth. ‘It’s off now.’

      ‘I’m sorry your parents couldn’t come.’

      ‘Only malaria could have kept Father away,’ Jake said wryly. ‘Prepare yourself for when we tell them you’re pregnant. My mother will start knitting... and Father will see some purpose to his life again.’ His expression became very serious. ‘Amber, I love them both. They’ve had a rough time. A lot of troubles which I’ll tell you about one day. I’d like them to be happy.’

      Amber could see that his affection was genuine. It was something she could relate to. A man who loved his parents and cared so much for their welfare would make a good husband.

      A sudden, sharp heat invaded her stomach. Dismayed, she closed her eyes tightly, willing herself not to be sick, here, in front of Jake. On her wedding day! The ghastliness of the situation made her wince.

      ‘You’re ill?’ He didn’t seem to miss anything. ‘You look very pale.’

      She heard him move and felt him come close, knowing that he must have knelt and was inches from her by the sudden pressure of his cool fingers pressing lightly on her temples. Her lids flew open and she met his black-molasses gaze in consternation because he was far too near for comfort.

      ‘Please don’t touch me! I’ll be OK!’ she lied. ‘Leave me alone for a while!’ she begged, her voice rising a betraying octave.

      ‘I can hardly abandon you when you look so sick. What’s wrong?’ he asked with a frown, beginning to brush the petals from her bare shoulders.

      She stiffened. The light touch of his fingers was strange, almost in the form of a warm caress. ‘Don’t!’ she repeated sharply. The sickness surged up again and she swallowed hastily before saying, ‘Nothing’s wrong. I—’

      ‘Don’t lie. There is a problem. Tell me,’ he ordered.

      ‘All right!’ Denying her nausea in the hope that mind could conquer matter, she put aside the fear that Jake wasn’t as indifferent as she’d first imagined and concentrated on her misery at losing Leo. ‘I feel depressed because Leo’s left Castlestowe,’ she mumbled, and he gave a quick intake of breath.

      ‘Ah.’ He looked annoyed again. ‘We come to Leo.’

      Sadly she gazed at Jake’s grim face. ‘He and Ginny are getting married again,’ she explained. ‘They’re going to live in St Lucia!’

      With great deliberation, Jake unfolded his long limbs and stood up. ‘Just as well,’ he observed with crisp finality.

      ‘How can you say that?’ Amber objected, craning her neck upwards. ‘Stuart will be devastated! Leo will be living miles and miles away from his father—’

      ‘It’s only a nine-hour flight,’ Jake pointed out drily. ‘Besides, you told me they’ve never been close. In fact, I’d say that Stuart Brandon loves you more than he loves his son. Don’t look so shocked! It’s true.’

      ‘Well, Leo was brought up by nannies and sent to boarding-school,’ she said quickly.

      ‘Mmm.’ Jake paused and considered her thoughtfully, as if that wasn’t the whole explanation. ‘Whereas you, a godchild, have been loved by Stuart and treated like an honorary daughter ever since you were born. Look at this wedding reception he’s provided for you!’

      ‘He’s been very good to me,’ she admitted.

      ‘Surprisingly so.’

      ‘You don’t understand.’ Amber watched him fold his arms in a disturbingly challenging way. ‘The Brandons treat the people who work for them like family. My father grew up with Stuart. They had a mutual respect for one another. And, as you know, Stuart took a shine to me when I was little.’

      ‘There’s no denying that. You and Castlestowe are the great loves of Stuart’s life,’ said Jake shrewdly. ‘I’m sure he won’t miss Leo too much—nor will he mind running the estate. I think he’ll enjoy striding over the moors in tweeds and brogues. He’ll prefer that to living in London as a Member of Parliament and wearing city suits and breathing city air. He doesn’t strike me as the sort to enjoy Westminster life.’

      ‘Maybe you’re right,’ Amber conceded, knowing that her godfather hated London and only stayed to press Scotland’s causes. ‘I’m worried about Leo’s grandfather, though. He won’t be pleased at all.’

      She saw Jake’s nod of acknowledgement. They’d visited the bedridden Earl a few times,