Second Best Wife Read online

  'Don't you ever get tired of wheeling and dealing?' she asked him at the end of their first week at home.

  'Wheeling and dealing?' he queried. 'You make me sound a rather dubious character!'

  'Well, you're the only lawyer I know who advises his clients on how to run their businesses, and then goes and works with their rivals!'

  'Only so that I can introduce "the rivals" to my clients,' Adam reminded her with a smile. 'Companies spend far too much time in competition with one another, instead of joining forces to maximise their strength.'

  'Are you advocating monopolies?'

  'To a limited extent.' His smile widened into a grin. 'In Britain, we call it nationalisation.'

  Julia sniffed. 'I can see you entering politics one day.'

  'Business politics only. Never the government kind. They're too dirty for me.'

  As she walked into his study and saw his desk neatly piled with legal documents, Julia remembered this conversation. There was a ruthless side to Adam which she was sure made him the perfect negotiator, and his sharp brain made her feel inadequate. How would it be five years from now, she wondered, when they had had the family he hoped for? Would their children's emotional development be affected by the loveless marriage of their parents? Adam had said he believed it would not matter for children to have parents who were not in love, provided they respected one another, and recalling her mother and father, Julia conceded that this might be true.

  Yet intimacy with Adam was something she was not ready to think about. They had been married a month, and he would soon expect her to be his wife in the fullest sense of the word. It was a discomfiting thought, and it haunted her as she sat opposite him at dinner that night.

  Glancing around the beautifully furnished Chippendale room, she knew what a splendid picture they made of gracious living. How handsome Adam looked in a black silk sweater and suede pants. It was the sort of casual yet elegant attire she had grown used to his wearing. His clothes always looked so right on him.

  'It's pleasant coming back to English food,' he commented, sipping at his iced Vichyssoise.

  'You mean French food,' she laughed. 'What would Monsieur Romain say if he heard you call it English?'

  'Which reminds me,' said Adam, putting down his spoon. 'Romain has been with me for five years—he's the best chef I've ever had, so I'd like him and his wife to stay. But you can make your own decisions regarding the rest of the staff, and you can fire and hire at will.'

  'I wouldn't dream of doing any such thing,' Julia protested. 'From what I've seen, your home is perfectly run.'

  'Our home, Julia. Not only mine.' Adam continued drinking his soup. 'By the way, I've opened an account for you at the bank. You'll be getting a quarterly allowance.'

  Uncomfortably, she avoided his gaze. 'You needn't have done that. I've some money of my own.'

  'A private income?' he asked, surprised.

  'No. Only the money I've saved since I've been working. But it amounts to quite a bit.'

  Adam shrugged, and Julia's temper rose. 'I know it wouldn't seem much to you, but—'

  'Let's not argue about money, Julia,' he interposed. 'I'm sure we'll find a great many other things to quarrel about, but it need never be over something as unimportant as money.'

  'I'm amazed that you regard it as unimportant,' she said tartly, 'when it cost you your marriage to Mrs Dukes.'

  Only as she heard her words aloud did Julia regret her cheap jibe. She had no right to hurt Adam because of Erica Dukes' behaviour, nor to be angry because he wanted to give his wife an allowance. As a feminist, she should see it as legal payment for her contribution to their marriage, and not as something that made her dependent on him.

  'I'm sorry,' she said contritely. 'What I just said was cruel and stupid.'

  'Not stupid, Julia. But unnecessarily cruel. If you're going to be on the defensive with me the whole time, it will make things doubly hard for both of us.'

  'I realise that,' she replied, 'and I promise it won't happen again.'

  'I'm sure it will.' There was irony in Adam's voice. 'You have too much red in that glorious hair of yours for you always to control your tongue.'

  She swallowed the reply that rose to her lips, then glancing at the dress she was wearing, said: 'Do you want me to buy a different kind of clothes? French or Italian, perhaps?'

  'Buy what you like. You have excellent taste, though I think you should let yourself go a little, colourwise.'

  She made a face at him. 'You like me in bright colours, don't you?'

  'I like you in pastels too. But I think you should play up to your hair and eyes and be more dramatic.'

  Remembering the cool blonde looks of the woman he loved, Julia surmised that Adam wished his wife to be the exact opposite, and vowed to knock him in the eye with the next outfit she bought.

  'Don't buy any furs or jewellery,' he cut into her thoughts. 'That's my prerogative.'

  'I wasn't thinking of it,' she said humorously. 'I've never had a fur in my life.'

  'Would you prefer mink or sable?'

  'Neither. I don't fancy having animals skinned for my edification.'

  'You aren't a vegetarian, though.'

  How quick Adam was with the rapier reply, she thought, and gave a wry grimace. 'You're right, of course, but if I actually start thinking of baby lambs being killed to provide me with tender chops, I'd throw up.'

  'So you don't think about it, and you go on eating meat,' he replied, refilling their wine glasses. 'Which is what I suggest you do when it comes to furs.'

  'No!' Her retort was sharp, and startled him. But Julia had had enough of his reasoned arguments. 'I know I'm not being logical, Adam, but that can't be helped. I'll go on eating meat, but I positively refuse to wear furs.'

  'You've no objection to jewellery, though?' He pursed his lips as she shook her head. 'Thank God for that! So we'll settle for diamonds and sapphires.'

  'Must we?'

  'Just a few pieces. My friends will expect it.'

  'Do you run the whole of your life to suit your friends?' she questioned, and was pleased to see him look disconcerted.

  'Stop hitting me below the belt, Julia. None of us can live in limbo, and we're all affected by what other people think and do. After all, your own attitude to yourself and the distrust you have of men stems from your inability to ignore one man's behaviour.'

  Her face flamed. 'Now you're hitting below the belt!'

  'It's a game that two can play, my dear. Remember that.'

  'You sound just like a husband.'

  'I wish I was,' he said abruptly. 'I never thought you'd act like a frightened virgin, but I suppose in an odd sort of way, I'm glad.'

  Later, thinking back over the conversation, Julia was irritated. Frightened virgin, indeed! Yet he'd then confused her by saying he was pleased she was untouched. It was an attitude that obviously did not extend to Erica, who was the exact opposite. How strange people were: saying one thing and then showing by their actions that they meant something quite different. Julia wondered what it would be like to be touched by Adam. She felt sure he would be as adept at lovemaking as he was at everything else he did. But she wanted more than just a skilful lover; she wanted a loving husband.

  'Then you shouldn't have married Adam Lester,' a little voice inside her said. 'You're not being logical, Julia Gosford, now Julia Lester.'

  But how could a jilted girl be expected to think logically?

  However, her memories of Roy were fading, and she was able to look more dispassionately at her life. There was no turning back the clock; this she accepted. On the other hand, would she want to, even if she could? As Adam had said, a marriage built on mutual understanding and common interest had a good chance of survival. And when they were in India, she had discovered that she and Adam did like the same things in sculpture, art, books and food.

  'We'll go to Italy next,' he had said. 'Until you've seen the galleries in Florence and Venice, you've seen nothing.'
br />   Lying in bed, Julia wished she and Adam could leave this house again and wander the hill towns of Central Italy, with their fabulous churches and art collections. In London, he was fast becoming remote again, so immersed in his work that he occasionally acted as if he resented coming home. She thought of him lying in the next room, and wondered whether he would behave differently if their marriage was a real one. Somehow she thought he might.

  Sighing, she punched her pillow into another position and tried to count sheep. But still it eluded her, and again she thought of the man who lay so close to her, yet who was, emotionally, far away. Julia knew he wanted to make love to her, and wished she could understand why she was reluctant to let him. It wasn't as if she didn't find him attractive. On the contrary. There had been many times during their honeymoon when she had nearly given herself to him, and had only been prevented from doing so by the memory of Erica.

  Unbidden, Roy came into her mind. Had he already married his Canadian girl-friend, or was he, as usual, being cautious; weighing up carefully all the pros and cons as befitted an actuary, bringing the clear-headedness and precision of his profession into his private life? She wouldn't be surprised to discover that the Canadian girl had a rich father who would be useful to him in his career. Thinking with more dispassion about Roy, she was fast beginning to see that Adam was a far warmer person.

  When Julia went down for breakfast next morning, Adam had not yet left for the office.

  'Are you always up this early?' he asked, as she came into the dining room.

  'Even earlier when I worked for you.'

  'But now you can take it easy.'

  'Force of habit,' she shrugged. 'But I must say I wish you hadn't asked me to stop work. I'm going to die of boredom.'

  'I'm sure there are lots of things you could do to occupy yourself.'

  'Not charity committees,' Julia replied with a shudder. 'Maybe I'll take a job with someone else. One of your rivals, perhaps?'

  'I don't recognise any!'

  'How conceited you are,' she teased.

  'I wouldn't call knowing your value conceit,' he answered seriously. 'People tend to take you at your own estimation, so always think well of yourself.' He regarded her housecoat, a simple tunic in sprigged cotton. 'Something silky and floating would suit you better.'

  'This is more practical.'

  'You don't need to be practical any longer.' His mouth quirked. 'You aren't washing the dishes any more.'

  'True enough,' she said evenly. 'Perhaps I'll go out shopping instead, and fritter away your money.'

  'An excellent idea. Buy yourself some evening dresses, and something suitable for the country, too. Also some smart day dresses. You'll occasionally be lunching with me.'

  'Why?'

  'My foreign clients often bring their wives with them, and I'll expect you to entertain the women.'

  'Is that one of the reasons you wanted a wife?'

  'It never occurred to me until now,' he replied. 'But you're very good with people—I noticed it in the office—and as you've complained of having nothing to do…'

  'Would you have asked Erica to do it too?'

  Adam's tanned face suffused with colour, but he banged his coffee cup on the saucer. 'Must you constantly bring Erica into our conversation?'

  'I'm sorry!' Julia was embarrassed. 'But she's often in my mind and…'

  'I can't imagine why,' he cut across her.

  Neither could Julia, but now was not the time to puzzle out the reason.

  'Since you've mentioned her name,' Adam continued, 'I think we should invite her to dinner. I want to give a party, and I'll let you have a list of the other people we should ask.'

  'Do we have to invite Mrs Duke?'

  'Yes—if we don't want gossip. I saw her a great deal in the past, and my friends will think it strange if I were suddenly to drop her.'

  'It's possible they'd think you were in love with your wife,' Julia said with unconcealed sarcasm. 'Men don't usually continue seeing their ex-girl-friends, once they've parted.'

  'It depends on the parting.' His lids lowered, making the expression in his eyes difficult to read. 'But I'd still like to ask her over.'

  'She might refuse,' said Julia, recalling Erica's fury when she had last seen her in the office.

  'I'm sure she won't, if only .to show everyone she doesn't give a damn about me.' He paused. 'You don't really mind her coming here, do you?'

  'Why should I? She means nothing to me. How soon do you want the dinner party?' Julia went on, as Adam pushed back his chair and rose.

  'Ring Miss Smith and ask her when I'm free.' He saw Julia's look of surprise. 'I go abroad quite often, remember?'

  'For a moment I thought you meant you'd be going out in the evenings.'

  'And leave you alone at night?' Adam replied. 'We're newlyweds and supposed to be in love.' He paused by the door. 'Let's have the dinner party as soon as possible.'

  That day, Julia made all the arrangements: contacting the people Adam wanted and discussing the menu with Romain. She was reluctant to telephone Erica, and debated whether to write, then told herself off for being chicken, and made the call.

  To her relief the woman was out for the day, and Julia explained the reason for calling and left her number, hoping she would not be in either when her call was returned.

  In the early afternoon she left the house to go shopping, and as she reached the end of the road, she looked back. She still found it incredible to think she lived in such opulent surroundings. How happy her mother would have been for her; not only because of Adam's position, but because a man who was so determined that his marriage should work would not indulge in affairs. Julia was warmed by the knowledge. Although she did not love Adam, it was good to know he would not get involved with anyone else. On the other hand he did not expect to, remain celibate, and this put the ball firmly in her own court.

  At that moment an empty taxi slowed in front of her, and she climbed in and told the driver to take her to the boutique in Mayfair which Adam had recommended, deciding that for the rest of the day she would concentrate on making herself into the image her husband wanted. When she would eventually decide to become his lover was a decision for another day.

  It was late when Julia returned home, laden with dress boxes, and even later by the time she had made herself ready to meet Adam. But the look on his face as she entered the drawing room was compensation enough for the three hours of fittings and the endless deliberations as to whether she should take this dress or that. Who would have thought spending money could be as tiring as earning it!

  If Julia had had any doubts about the cobalt blue dress that fitted her figure like a second skin, or been worried that her new hair-style—long and softly curled around her face—would meet with Adam's approval, his astonished silence as she saw her was assurance enough.

  'You look stunning,' he said slowly. 'Simply beautiful.'

  'Expensively beautiful,' she corrected lightly. 'I've spent all of my quarterly allowance.'

  'I'll put some more money in your account tomorrow.' He studied her hair, then reached out and touched it with his fingers. 'It feels like silk. I've never seen such - a wonderful texture.'

  Gently he went on stroking it, and Julia had an unaccountable urge to take his fingers in her own. Quickly she controlled it, and said rather sharply: 'You make me feel as if I'm a doll on display.'

  'Not a doll,' he said huskily. 'Very much a woman.'

  'Don't you mean a possession? Something you can show off and then put back on the shelf while you attend to other things?'

  'You are in a mood,' he remarked, stepping back from her. 'You must have had a tiring day. Sit down and I'll fix you a drink. What would you like?'

  'Champagne, of course,' she said sarcastically. He chuckled. 'You aren't going to arouse my temper, Julia. I'm in too good a mood.' He handed her a glass of champagne and then settled in a chair with a whisky. 'I'm glad you've organised the dinner party. Erica rang me at the
office to say she could come.' 'I'm delighted to hear it.'

  Adam's look was quizzical. It flattered his features, accentuating the sensual curve of his mouth and the sharp glint in his eyes.

  'You could easily give the impression that you're jealous of her,' he said softly.

  Julia laughed. 'After four years of working for you, and thinking of you. as my boss, it'll take longer than six weeks for me to see you in any romantic light.'

  'I've heard of stranger things happening,' he said slyly. 'People have been known to fall in love overnight.'

  'You don't need anyone to love you,' she retorted. 'Only someone to go to bed with you.'

  'Shall we change the subject?' he asked quietly. 'As I've just said, I'm in too relaxed a mood to trade insults with you.'

  Later that night as Julia undressed for bed, she decided it would suit Adam very well were she to fall in love with him. It would make her like putty in his hands, which she was determined not to be. Although Adam had been an excellent employer and was now a pleasant companion—when she was not riling him over Erica—he was not the sort of man she could love. He would demand and expect total submission, and she had already seen what that could do to a woman. What colossal nerve he had, to think she might fall for him! If only she had had the courage to suggest it might be the other way around—that he might fall in love with her.

  That would have given him plenty of food for thought.

  Unexpectedly it gave Julia food for thought too, and she tossed restlessly in bed. Was it possible, she wondered, to close one's heart to love? Yet didn't a hot, languorous night like this make one realise the futility of fighting one's senses? Why shouldn't she concede to sex without love? Eventually she would have to do so, if she kept her word. Yet right now the very idea of it still horrified her.

  Agitated, she sat up, her body trembling. She couldn't go on with this farcical marriage. She didn't want Adam to hold her and kiss her while his mind and body yearned for another woman. Hard on this thought came another; one that set her trembling even more. Would she want Adam if he no longer desired another woman? If he only wanted herself? No, she thought in a panic. No, I wouldn't. He's too overpowering, too confident. Yet not so confident that he could take Erica's rebuff without feeling the need to prove she hadn't hurt him by instantly marrying someone else.