Scarlet Lady Read Free

Her heart pounded violently. If that were true, she'd go to pieces. It would be the end of her world.
    Once, twice, he'd made love to her as if he hardly knew her, in a restrained way that had left her crying alone In the great bed while he'd disappeared to take a shower. She'd imagined that he was washing her off his body. How long was it since they'd last slept together?
    She couldn't even remember, knowing only that she missed his loving arms and felt terribly alone.
    Appalled, Ginny waited in the cold, unfriendly silence till Arabella's merrily clicking heels had stopped driving her crazy and the door had closed at the far end of the room. Leo was wiping lipstick from his mouth. And the cool neutrality had gone and he was suddenly very, very angry.
    He had no right to be! Surely he must know what an ordeal she'd been through, how hard it had been to hold herself together these past few months? She was his wife and she was in trouble!
    'Leo... I know it's been hard for you—hard for both of us—but... right at this moment I need you,' she said brokenly.
    His bitter, glittering eyes slanted in her direction. 'Is that how it works?' he growled, and faced her at last, his face working with anger, the mouth that had so recently softened under Arabella's now a hard, unpleasant line carved in Scottish granite. 'I've needed you, Ginny. I've needed your support, your time, an understanding ear. I was happy for you to have a career but I didn't expect it to take you over completely. And this trial and the rumours about you—'
    'Leo!' she said quickly, terrified of where this was leading. 'They're not true...' Her voice tailed away at his tormented expression.
    'Ginny,' he said quietly, 'you must know how deeply you've hurt me and my family.'
    She turned away. Leo's family had always unnerved her. His grandfather, the Earl of Castlestowe, had made it clear that he'd expected her to drop her career and concentrate on producing heirs.
    'I never wanted to hurt anyone you care about. I love you,' she said unhappily, trembling, trying to remember how it had felt to be loved back. There was nothing but emptiness now—a blank feeling as if he'd wiped her clean and left a vacuum. 'I married you because I couldn't live without you. I still feel like that.'
    He thrust his hands in the pockets of his linen trousers and stood silhouetted against the huge, mullioned window, a picture of power, money and perfect lineage. Chills ran down her spine. He was regretting their marriage. She didn't fit, never had done. Wrong class. Wrong blood. Oh, God! she screamed inside.
    'You seem to have managed fine without me for some time,' he said huskily. 'What do you think that tells me, Ginny?'
    'Please try to understand,' she said, horrified at how far they'd drawn away from one another. 'I love you but I need to work for my self-respect—'
    'We talked of children,' he reminded her. 'You knew how much I wanted us to have a child.'
    Ginny winced. She was scared of motherhood and what it implied, because their child would never be hers to love. They wouldn't be having a baby. They'd be producing an heir. And almost certainly her duty would be to bring up the Brandon heir according to the strict Brandon rules and regulations.
    She knew something of Leo's childhood: the nannies who'd ruled his life till he'd been sent to boarding-school, the cold baths and rigorous devotion to duty. Leo had touched her heart when he'd told her that his mother had never cuddled him and had died in a riding accident when he was five.
    Her own childhood had been hell too. No way was she going to inflict misery on her own flesh and blood in the same way. When she had a child, she wanted to be free to give it the love that she and Leo had been denied. But first their marriage had to be strong.
    'You know why we delayed—'
    'Your figure. Your career,' he said accusingly.
    She stiffened. 'No! that isn't true! Leo, I never knew you could be so cruel—'
    'I was never cuckolded