you ever,’ she launched forth, her voice and body shaking with emotion, ‘call my Godfrey selfish or stupid again, do you hear me? He might not have been perfect. He probably made mistakes. But Godfrey would never deliberately hurt another human being. He did whatever he did because he had to! As for his callously making me pregnant, nothing could be further than the truth! During the time I knew Godfrey, not once did he make improper advances to me, even after he took me in when I had nowhere else to go.
‘If you must blame someone for my pregnancy, then blame me. I went to my Godfrey’s bed when he was obviously distraught and I comforted him the only way I could think of. Neither of us thought of the child we might have as a consequence, but do you know what? I’m proud I’m having Godfrey’s baby. Extremely proud. He was a fine man and would have made a fine father. But I am not proud of being your wife, Jonathon Parnell. The day cannot come quickly enough that I have done with you!’
So saying, she burst into tears and ran from the room, dashing up the stairs and along the hall into her bedroom where she threw herself on to the bed, weeping copiously into the green silk quilt.
Downstairs, Jonathon was still staring after her, his face ashen, except for the bright red mark on his cheek.
‘Well, Jonathon?’ Wilma mocked. ‘I see the much vaunted Parnell charm is still intact.’
‘Go after her, man,’ Harvey advised. ‘Apologise profusely. Beg her forgiveness.’
‘Please, Jonathon,’ Ivy pleaded. ‘She’s going to have Godfrey’s child…’
His eyes turned slowly towards his mother, their expression haunted. ‘Must I spend the rest of my life paying for the dubious privilege of being born in the image of my father?’ he muttered.
When no one commented further after this cryptic statement, he whirled and strode from the room, mounting the stairs two at a time till he disappeared from the others’ view. Maud returned from the kitchen at that precise moment to find three silent, drooping faces.
‘What is it?’ she demanded to know. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Jonathon said something that upset Sophia,’ Wilma volunteered.
‘Oh, no, not again! What’s wrong with that man? Can’t he see what a prize that girl is? Why, if he had any brains he’d snap her up for himself good and proper.’
‘Life isn’t that neat, Maud,’ was Harvey’s wry remark.
‘I don’t see why not,’ the old lady muttered crossly. ‘She’s a beautiful girl. He’s a handsome man. They’re married now. Why can’t nature take its natural course?’
‘She’s having his brother’s baby, for pity’s sake,’ Wilma argued. ‘Give the man a break. This hasn’t been easy for Jonathon. Besides, Sophia is still very much in love with Godfrey.’
‘You’re right,’ Maud sighed. ‘I’m just a silly old fool, thinking things can be all tied up with pink bows. So what are we going to do?’
‘I know what I’m going to do,’ Harvey said, lifting his whisky and draining every drop. ‘I’m going to have another drink.’
‘Good idea,’ Wilma agreed. ‘I’ll join you.’
THE first awareness Sophia had that someone had followed her came when the bed dipped low on one side, but she never dreamt it was Jonathon sitting there. She presumed it was Wilma, or maybe Maud. Not Ivy. Godfrey’s mother was not one to confront or even actively comfort. She was a gentle, but very passive creature.
So it wasn’t till Jonathon actually spoke that she realised who it was in the room with her.
‘I’m sorry, Sophia,’ he began with a ragged sigh. ‘I have no excuse for my appallingly thoughtless behaviour other than I’ve been finding it difficult to deal with certain aspects of Godfrey’s life prior to his illness. I’m glad you’ve cleared up my misconception that he had somehow taken advantage of your youth and innocence. Please also believe me when I say I make no judgement of your actions, either with Godfrey or with me downstairs. I have nothing but admiration for the way you defended my brother just now. A man would kill to have a woman love him as you obviously loved Godfrey.’
Sophia lay there for a moment, unsure if his seemingly heartfelt words had soothed, or flustered her further. She did not associate Jonathon with apologies.
Rolling slowly over, she encountered a face so bleak her heart filled with instant remorse. She couldn’t see into his eyes for he was looking down at the floor, but the uncharacteristic droop of his head and shoulders pulled at her heartstrings.
‘I…I’m sorry too,’ she whispered. ‘I shouldn’t have hit you.’
When his head lifted and he twisted round to face her, Sophia gasped at the still stark imprint of her hand on his cheek. She had no idea she’d hit him that hard. Appalled, she reached up blindly with shocked fingers, a guilty groan escaping her lips as her shaking hand made contact with the red mark.
‘Don’t!’ he snapped, iron fingers enclosing her wrist and ramming her hand down on to the quilt, the action jerking her up into a semi-sitting position.
With the abrupt movement, her hat, which had been partially dislodged when she’d first flung herself on the bed, fell off, the large comb holding her hair up also coming adrift, sending her dark glossy waves tumbling down around her face and shoulders.
‘Oh!’ she cried.
When she tried to disengage her hand from his to push back her hair, his grip remained fast, his eyes boring into hers with such intensity that she was completely bamboozled by the whole situation. Did he think she’d been going to hit him again? Sophia couldn’t see why he should. She’d already said she was sorry for that.
So why didn’t he say something? Why did he just sit there, staring at her like that? And why, oh, why couldn’t she seem to find her own voice?
The room, which was very large and luxuriously furnished, seemed to have shrunk, Jonathon looming large over her. His face was only inches from hers, so close now that she could no longer see the blue of his eyes. They were deep dark pools into which she seemed to be drowning…drowning…
In desperation she sucked in a breath of air, but this only seemed to remind her of the way her heart was suddenly hammering in her chest. The large hand cuffing her wrist tightened, and for a brief mad moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. Instead, she found her hand being ground further down into the mattress as Jonathon pushed himself to his feet.
‘Don’t let your tender heart lead you into any more trouble, Sophia,’ he grated out, his face as harsh and humourless as ever as he glared down at her from his considerable height. ‘I deserved hitting downstairs, and I almost deserved hitting again just now. When you touch a man like that in future,’ he warned darkly, ‘make sure you’re not on a bed with him. Not all males are as saintlike as Godfrey.’
Sophia’s eyes widened, colour coming to her cheeks. So he had been tempted to kiss her.
But
