Marriage Without Love. Penny Jordan

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      She had just walked past the table when she heard Gail say triumphantly, ‘Beth Walker—that was the girl’s name!’

      Briony froze, her eyes dilating with fear, her hands cold and clammy.

      ‘Beth Walker,’ Kieron repeated softly, and Briony knew without looking at him that he was watching her.

      She walked back to the office on legs which almost refused to support her, each breath a conscious effort. Her instinctive response was to grab her coat and leave before Doug and Kieron got back. But she could not.

      On impulse she reached for a phone book, dialling the number of a well-known employment agency. The girl on the other end was helpful but regretful. In normal circumstances, she told Briony, they wouldn’t have the slightest difficulty in placing her, but the way things were at the moment it might be months before they could find her a job which came anywhere near approaching her present highly paid one.

      She slumped in her chair, not entirely surprised, wondering what on earth she was going to do. She felt as though her life had suddenly turned into a horrendous nightmare. Beth Walker. When she had discarded that name she had discarded the past, or so she tried to persuade herself, but it hadn’t been easy. There were too many intrusive memories, too much that could not simply be forgotten. She had changed her name by deed poll after the attentions of the Press became too much to bear. It was ironic really that she should end up working for a newspaper. It had been from necessity rather than inclination. She had needed a job that paid well, and employers who were prepared to take her on without digging too deeply into her past. Doug had taken her completely on trust, and for that alone she felt she owed him a debt which could never be entirely repaid. One had to experience the contempt and loss in faith of others before one could appreciate fully the value of trust.

      She had once trusted Kieron Blake. And not just trusted him. Even now it made her feel sick to think how gullible she had once been.

      The first time she had seen him had been at the flat she shared with Susan Myers. He had come, so he told her, to interview Susan for a gossip column article, and she had not been surprised, because although she and Susan lived together, their life styles were entirely different.

      They had been brought up in the same small village. Susan was the spoiled and petted daughter of the local ‘lord of the manor’, Sir Arthur Myers, and his wife, and Briony had got to know her through her father who was their doctor. They had gone to school together, although never particularly intimate—Susan moved in a different, faster crowd, and it was only the death of Briony’s parents within six months of one another—her father from a heart attack and her mother from a broken heart—that brought them together.

      Briony’s father was not a wealthy man. There were some investments and the house, which on her solicitor’s recommendation Briony had sold. She had been contemplating going on to university after school, but fearing to use up her slender financial resources had decided instead to invest in a good secretarial course. It was then that Susan Myers, chaffing under the parental yoke, suggested that they ‘flat’ together. Not that Susan was contemplating a secretarial career. Her ambitions were nowhere near as modest. Her long-suffering parents paid for her to undergo an expensive modelling course from which she emerged sleek and soignée; the occasional modelling job and her father’s allowance giving her a far different life style from Briony’s steady nine-to-five routine. In fact long before her secretarial course was over Briony was regretting her decision to share with Susan. All-night parties; casual sexual morals; these had no place in her life, but she was unable to afford the expense of the flat without Susan and had perforce to endure her presence.

      Susan’s brother she knew only by hearsay. Ten years separated them, Susan being the child of Sir Arthur’s second marriage, and although Susan was fond of boasting about her successful half-brother, Briony had never met him. Nor had she wanted to, disliking what she read about him in the Press, but when the story had broken, no one had believed her innocence, and the one person who could have substantiated it was missing.

      Her mouth twisted bitterly. Kieron must have thanked his lucky stars that Susan was so conveniently missing that evening. She had told him when the other girl would be in, but he had shown a flattering disinclination to leave. They had talked—she couldn’t remember what about—only that for the first time since her parents had died she didn’t feel completely alone. When he asked her out, she hadn’t even hesitated, and had never once suspected that his questions were based on anything other than an interest in her own background. Later, of course, when the truth came out, she had realised that it was James Myers’ background he had been seeking, not hers.

      He had taken her out to dinner the evening they came back and found Susan and her new ‘boy-friend’ in the flat. Briony had put Susan’s awkwardness down to the fact that she was merely playing one of her silly secretive games. Susan had a vivid imagination and liked to pretend her life was full of drama and suspense, but with hindsight she suspected that Kieron had known the truth right from the start.

      It had said in the papers that James Myers was a master of disguise, and certainly it had never crossed Briony’s mind that he was Susan’s brother. He visited the flat quite often, and the two of them would retire to Susan’s room, talking together in muted whispers. Whenever Kieron had asked about Susan and her ‘boy-friend’ Briony had innocently supplied the answers. She had even been the one to tell him that Susan was due to go abroad on a modelling trip, never dreaming that it was just a cover to smuggle James Myers out of the country on the false passport and documents he had had prepared.

      Kieron had been particularly passionate that night. They had driven out of town and stopped at a small Thamesside pub for a drink. It had been a long hot summer and she remembered she had been wearing a thin camisole top and a pretty cotton skirt. Kieron had traced the neckline of her top with one lazy finger, the casual caress sending her pulses racing with frightened excitement. How could anyone so attractive be interested in her? When he announced abruptly that they were leaving she had gone willingly. In the car he had pulled her to him, moulding her body against his own with a new intimacy that thrilled her. There had never been a second when she doubted his feelings. When he parted her lips in a passionate kiss she had responded without check, trusting him completely.

      They had driven back to the flat in a silence which on her part was filled with tense excitement. Tonight was to be the climax to which their relationship had been slowly building. Her body felt curiously weightless, open adoration in her eyes as she turned them to her companion. She had remembered later how Kieron had stopped the car then, even though they hadn’t reached the flat, his voice rough as he said unsteadily, ‘Don’t look at me like that.…’

      And she, little fool that she was, had thought he meant that if she did he wouldn’t be able to control himself! If only she had known! There hadn’t been a single occasion during their association when he hadn’t known exactly what he was doing, hadn’t been completely and absolutely in control of everything, including her. Manipulating her like a jointed doll, and she had let him.

      It was dark when they got back, and the flat was empty. Susan had gone home for the weekend. Her father hadn’t been feeling well, and she had been furious when her mother phoned to beg her to return. She hated the country and seemed to have no feelings for her parents whatsoever.

      The flat had been unpleasantly cool after the warmth of the car, and Briony had shivered slightly. Kieron had removed his jacket, draping it round her slender shoulders, and laughing gently because it drowned her. Then the laughter had died and he had taken her in his arms, kissing her with a new demanding force that overwhelmed her. She remembered that she had protested slightly and said something about making them some coffee, but Kieron had laughed, and said no, he had other things in mind.

      Somehow his СКАЧАТЬ