Promises to Keep Page 4
He muttered into her shoulder, 'He said you were the one who should have been my mother and when you came back and talked to me, you'd never leave again. You won't, will you?'
The silence was thick and heavy as she continued to hold him, then she looked down into his eyes and felt a slight shock run through her, almost a recognition. Being Carol's, he had her own blood in his veins. This was the closest she would ever have to a son of her own. 'No, Jon,' she finally whispered, her chin lifting a fraction, her breath stirring the black silk of his hair. 'No, I won't ever leave you. Your dad was right. Once I saw you and spoke to you, how could I leave?' She didn't trust herself to look at Logan again. She knew his face would be full of triumph. But she would never admit defeat. He might have won this battle, but the war was just beginning.
CHAPTER THREE
At one o'clock that afternoon the storm that had threatened all morning finally broke. They drove through heavy winds and through a strange grey darkness split by bright flashes of lightning and dull rolling thunder. The rain fell in big spattering drops, pounding mercilessly on their shoulders as they ran up the steps to the courthouse. Logan tried to keep Kathryn from getting drenched, but an umbrella was useless in the wind, and once inside the building, he turned to look at her and saw that she was soaked.
'Not a very auspicious beginning for us, is it?' he said quietly, regretfully, before taking her coat and shaking it on the tiled floor.
Kathryn stood still and silent, not trusting herself to say anything. The length of her black hair glittered with bright sparkling drops of water. The dress she wore, one of her better efforts at dressmaking, was a bright blue wool the colour of a summer sky, and it heightened the ivory pallor of her skin.
Logan took off his own coat with a grim tightening of his lips and together they went in search of the judge who was to perform the ceremony.
Kathryn noticed no one was about as they made their way down the dim quiet corridor and somehow she was glad of it. She didn't want to be offered any good wishes or congratulations. This was a sham of a marriage only for his son's benefit, and she couldn't bear the thought of pretending to be a happy bride.
Judge Hammond was a big, balding, affable man who greeted them with a wide smile. 'Come in, come in,' he said. 'I've been waiting for you.' He gripped Logan's hand with genuine friendliness, then turned to Kathryn with a delving look that made her squirm. 'And Kathryn Marshall. Well, well! Logan's told me a lot about you.'
She looked back at him steadily but didn't smile in return.
A vague frown crossed his face as he gestured for them to be seated in the two cracked leather-chairs in front of his littered desk. 'Now then,' he cleared his throat noisily, 'I have to ask you a few questions, Miss Marshall. Er—to make sure this marriage is legal. You understand?'
She nodded faintly, wondering what he would do if he knew the real reason for this marriage. Would he be shocked? Perhaps not, she decided. At his age and in his position, he probably wouldn't be surprised at anything.
'Are you a willing party to this marriage?' he asked quietly.
She continued to look at him without wavering and her voice was clear and cold. 'Yes, I am.'
'You're not being coerced in any way?'
Kathryn felt rather than saw Logan stiffen beside her. His hands were resting lightly on the arms of his chair, but she could feel his rigid body vibrating. She turned and met his unflinching eyes but couldn't read any expression in them. And then she thought she saw them flicker with a fleeting regret, and it startled her.
'No, sir,' she said after a long minute, still looking at Logan, 'I'm not being coerced. I want to marry Logan.'
The judge leaned forward, his hands folded on top of the untidy piles of paper littering his desk, peering at her from under bushy white eyebrows. 'Do you love this man?' he whispered.
A brilliant red blush ran up her neck and disappeared into her hair, and she quickly dropped her eyes to her lap where she twisted her hands together.
'Forgive me, my dear,' he said with a wide satisfied grin. 'I'm just a meddling old fool. Love is not a prerequisite for marriage, although it helps. I've known the Ramsey family for years and Logan, here, is like a son to me. I want him to be happy, that's all. You don't have to answer that question.'
He stood then and asked them to stand together so they could make their vows.
The ceremony was brief, and Kathryn moved like an automaton, speaking in a hoarse whisper when Logan's hand at her waist prodded her to say the proper words. His own voice was low and clear and firm, his hands steady when he slipped a thick shining gold wedding band on her finger. She nearly dropped the broad masculine circle of gold that was his. Her hands shook so much when she tried to slide over his knuckle that in the end he had to put it on himself. There was no perfunctory kiss, although she was sure the judge expected one, and she couldn't quite conceal her relief when Logan stepped away from her.
It was only after she had signed her name to a legal-looking document that she noticed the others in the room. They were two nondescript little men who hurriedly signed their names under hers and Logan's before bowing deeply and leaving as silently as they had come.
Witnesses, she thought. All legal and above board. He hadn't forgotten anything. And suddenly anger stiffened her backbone. His marriage to Carol hadn't been any hole-and-corner thing. Their ceremony had been held in a church. Carol had worn a beautiful white lace gown and carried orchids. Hundreds of people had met them as they stepped into the brilliant sunshine, flashbulbs exploded and rice was showered, and their pictures were plastered in every newspaper across the country.
But here she was in a dingy little office that reeked of disinfectant, before a judge who was an old friend of Logan's family, with two unknown witnesses who were probably paid handsomely to keep their mouths shut. What a difference! But then her whole life with Logan would be entirely different from what he had shared with Carol. For one thing, there would never be any more children for him. She swallowed hard and managed to force a small smile to her colourless face.
Judge Hammond had gone back to his desk and was pouring a dark yellow liquid into three small glasses on a tray. 'May you have a long and happy marriage,' he. said loudly, holding up his glass to theirs. 'And may I soon be called on to be the godfather of your first child together.' He slapped Logan soundly on the hack and grinned goodnaturedly at Kathryn's hectic blush as she only pretended to sip the drink.
They didn't go back home when they left the judge's chambers. Logan took her to an elegant little restaurant where he was obviously well known. The maitre d' greeted them with an expansive smile and led them to a secluded table for two near wide windows covered with burnished gold curtains.
When Logan asked that they be opened, the man looked surprised, but quickly did as he was asked. 'Terrible day to be out, Mr Ramsey,' he murmured, looking at the wild rainswept scene before them.
'It's all in how you look at it, Antoine.' Logan gave him a wide boyish grin. 'Today is the most wonderful day for me!'
An expression of utter surprise crossed the man's face. 'You're the only one who has said so all day!' Then he laughed and called the waiter to bring the wine list to this honoured guest.
'What shall it be, darling?' Logan asked wryly before the waiter came. 'Champagne and caviar to celebrate?'
All the colour left her face and she stared at him with sick shock. 'You wouldn't!'
'Why not? The last time I tasted champagne was the day you promised to marry me. Remember?' His eyes narrowed. 'Five years, Kathryn. It's only fitting we should share it today. You're my wife now, not my fiancée. It's been a long time coming.'
'Please don't,' she whispered.
'Why? Don't you want to be reminded of that day? I remember it in great detail. You sat across from me in an elegant French restaurant, smiling, radiant with happiness. Your eyes had stars in them, big shining blue ones. You'd never tasted champagne or caviar before, you told me. It was a day of firs
ts for you.'
Kathryn squeezed her eyes tightly shut. It was a day of firsts, all right. Logan was sitting across from her now, looking so handsome in his suit and tie, but a more forceful picture of him danced in her memory. Time and time again she tried to erase it, but it was always there and it always came, unbidden, when she least expected it.
She could see his powerful muscular body gleaming in the sultry moonlight under the pines near Aunt Miriam's house. His naked skin had a silvery, unreal translucence. And then she saw Carol, naked too, her face close to his as they locked together in a passionate embrace, consumed by a roaring fire of their own making, oblivious to everyone and everything else except the sensuous pagan pleasure they found in each other.
What was it Logan had said to her only hours before? 'Kathryn, be my wife. Let me love you the way you were meant to be loved.'
A black and bitter rage welled up in her throat, but she shivered and tried to pull herself together, concentrating on the lightning splitting the boiling sky with broken spears of splintered silver. 'I haven't forgotten that day,' she whispered. 'And you're right, it was a day of firsts for me.' She had never before experienced betrayal.
The waiter came and went and she hadn't realised he had taken Logan's order until he set a small plate in front of them. She looked at the dark mound and nearly gagged. 'You're the one who's forgotten, Logan. I didn't like it. Too salty, remember?' Then her face hardened and she became calm, controlling the impulse to throw the caviar in his face. 'You really should be more careful not to confuse me with Carol.'
He laughed shortly, watching the faint colour stealing back into her face. 'Don't worry, I'll never do that. For one thing, Carol was a lot like my mother. She had expensive tastes, too. It didn't matter what it was as long as it cost a lot of money—and as long as everyone knew how much she paid for it. But not you, my love, never you.'
'Your money never meant anything to me,' Kathryn whispered vehemently.
'I know it.' His expression hardened and his eyes narrowed. 'I never could find your price. You're the only woman I couldn't buy, yet you could have had it all. I wanted to give you everything I had, but you walked away from me. Why, Kathryn? Tell me now. For five years I've wanted to know. Why did you leave me?'
The muted sounds in the room suddenly sounded loud in the silence between them, the murmur of voices, the chink of silver, the dull thud of a plate being set on a table. Somewhere near, ice tinkled in a crystal goblet as waiters passed by on soft cat-like feet. And over it all, heavy rain lashed against the windows and thunder rolled dimly in the distance.
She returned his intent stare without flinching, her voice as cold and calm as the icy quality of his eyes. 'I finally saw for myself that you were no different from any other man. All the illusions were gone. I'd have been a fool to trust you with my love.'
Logan stared at her incredulously, then his mouth twisted as several conflicting emotions ran across his face. 'You left me because I didn't live up to some ideal you'd set up in your mind?' He couldn't believe it. 'I never pretended to be anything other than what I am—an ordinary man.' He looked almost bewildered. 'Who opened your eyes, my innocent?'
'You did,' she said bitterly. 'You—and Carol. Now tell me something. Why did you marry her? And so soon after I left?'
A dull red filled his face, but his expression became hard and fixed. 'She needed my name.'
Kathryn was suddenly still, her face whitened and then her hand clenched on the table. The room rocked all around her. She supposed she should have been thankful he hadn't denied it but his bluntness stunned her. 'She was pregnant,' she said in a dull voice, 'and you had to marry her.'
'She told you?'
'No. But I should have known, shouldn't I? Carol was that kind of girl. It was bound to catch up with her sooner or later.' A helpless bitter laugh escaped her. But why did it have to be you? she wanted to scream at him. You knew how much I loved you. She closed her eyes on a spasm of pain and saw again that haunting picture, their bodies cleaving together in the silvery moonlight…
'You disappoint me,' said Logan with a curious kind of anger in his face. 'I knew you were a romantic, full of girlish dreams, but I never thought you were a fool. You set up some impossible ideal in your head and then left me because I couldn't live up to it. Don't you know anything about men? There's not a one of us who's perfect.' His voice became hoarse and he clenched a fist and struggled with himself. The lines about his mouth were etched with pain. 'All that wasted time… If it's any consolation to you, you aren't the only one disillusioned. I thought we had something special. I thought our love was such that we could talk to each other about anything. Instead, you took the easy way out and ran away.'
Kathryn stared at him, quivering with anger. How dared he turn things around and make it look as if she was at fault? She did what anyone with an ounce of self-respect would have done. She didn't know much about men, but he didn't have to take what Carol offered, did he? He could have resisted that particular urge, couldn't he? 'It wasn't the easy way, Logan,' was all she could manage.
'Well, we've both got our eyes wide open now and perhaps it's for the best. We'll simply put the past behind us and go on from here. I want you to remember one thing, though. You became my wife today, but more importantly, you became Jon's mother. Try to remember that, will you?' He flicked back his cuff and glanced at the slim gold watch on his wrist. 'When we're through here, we'll go to my office. Dennis McIntyre's drawn up some papers for you to sign—making sure you're named Jon's guardian if anything should happen to me.'
She watched him down a full glass of champagne in one gulp and sensed his complete withdrawal from her. He continued to sit there looking at her, but she knew all he was seeing was a little boy's solemn face. He was the important one. There was nothing else left between them.
The rain continued to pummel them with blinding wet fists as they entered his office building, and Kathryn gave up trying to keep dry. Her hair was plastered against her face in spiky black tendrils and her coat was soaked. When she walked, she made a peculiar squishing sound.
Logan towered beside her in the elevator, totally unaffected by the elements. His coat and shoes had shed the water. Only his hair shone blue-black with bright crystal drops. He stood tall and proud and silent, allowing nothing, not even the weather, to touch him.
Everything was still when they stepped into the corridor. The rain couldn't be heard here. When he opened the door to his office, a slender blonde woman seated behind her desk greeted him with an expectant smile.
'Logan—Mr Ramsey—I've missed you!'
'Hello, Margaret,' he said with an absent nod. 'You make it sound as if I've been gone a long time.'
'You haven't been here for almost a week— that's a long time for you.' Cool and poised, she laughed up at him with an open invitation in her eyes before turning her attention to Kathryn. 'Are you together?'
He picked up a stack of letters from the desk, idly flipping through them, and before Kathryn could say anything he said: 'Dennis McIntyre's supposed to meet us here at three. When he comes, show him in, will you?' He started towards his office and said very quietly: 'And yes, Kathryn and I are together, Margaret. You can be the first to congratulate us. We were married today.'
Margaret stiffened, her face lost all its colour and she blinked at him with dazed brown eyes. Then all at once she pulled herself together and gave him a breezy smile that didn't fool Kathryn for a minute. 'Why, congratulations! I—I hope you'll be very happy.'
Logan nodded and disappeared into his office, but Kathryn just stood there looking at her with compassion. It was obvious Margaret was in love with him. She probably had hoped against hope he would notice her as something more than just the girl who efficiently ran his office. She had been in that position herself once, and when Logan began paying attention to her, she had bloomed like a rose starving for sunshine.
'I'm sorry he broke it to you like that,' she said softly.
Margaret turned quickly to a file cabinet and fumbled with the drawer before opening it.
Kathryn saw her shoulders quiver and knew her poise was slipping badly. 'Believe me, if I had known—'
'Stop it, Mrs Ramsey!' she whispered with venom. 'I don't want your pity. There isn't any need for it.'
Kathryn took an involuntary step backward in surprise and flinched at the malevolence in Margaret's flashing brown eyes. 'He's not the only Ramsey man. I'll just have to change my tactics and concentrate on Paul. His divorce should be final by now.'
Kathryn put a dazed hand to her face. 'Paul?'
'Logan's brother—his other half. Paul Ramsey, the concert pianist,' Margaret spat. 'Almost as handsome, almost as rich. Not half the man Logan is, but his money should make up for it.' She shrugged her slim shoulders and turning, smoothed her hands down the sides of her beige and brown silk suit, once again in control.
Kathryn could only stand and gape at her.
Could she really switch so easily from one brother to the other? Or was that simply hurt pride talking? She'd never met Paul, but she remembered his voice on the telephone when she used to work here. It was like rich dark velvet. Her romantic heart used to flutter when she thought of him giving concerts in all those European cities before kings and queens and great statesmen. She had hoped some day to meet this famous man, but she had never got around to it. Now he was her brother-in-law.
'Kathryn!' Logan's command finally penetrated her thoughts and her face filled with colour. 'Come in here, will you? I'm sure Margaret has more to do than stand around gossiping with you.'
Margaret's eyes narrowed, but Kathryn was too embarrassed to notice. She pulled herself together and followed him in silence.
Logan had removed his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves and now he was looking out of the windows with a black scowl on his face. 'Take off your coat,' he said coldly, 'before you catch pneumonia.'
She didn't trust herself to answer him but did as he asked, then sat down quite still in one of the chairs in front of his desk.