From Mistresses To Wives?. Lee Wilkinson

at least. Could be a lot worse, I suppose.’

      Jessica kept her voice steady with an effort. ‘A whole lot worse. I realise you’ll probably want to confront your grandfather at some point, but there’s no reason for him to know there’s anything contrived about our relationship.’

      ‘You seem to have it all worked out,’ Zac commented. ‘Not that I’m complaining. Whatever it takes to keep the old devil sweet!’ He took the wine bottle and refilled her glass, lifting his own in ironic salute. ‘To a long and happy future!’

      Jessica echoed the sentiment with heavy heart. Sex apart, the only thing keeping this marriage afloat was his fear of losing those damned shares! While ever his grandfather lived, he was stuck with the situation.

      They made love as usual that night, but there was something definitely missing. Jessica lay sleepless for a long time afterwards, regretting ever having met Zac. He wasn’t going to fall in love with her. Eventually, he would even stop wanting her. When that happened, she was out of it regardless.

      They drove back to Whitegates the following morning. Esther’s greeting was subdued.

      ‘I’m really sorry for deceiving you,’ she said to Zac, obviously taking it for granted that he’d been told the truth. ‘You seemed so reluctant to bring Jessica to meet us, he began to doubt she existed. You know your grandfather. Once he gets an idea in his head there’s no letting go.’

      ‘And he bullied you into going along with it.’ Zac smiled and shook his head as she opened her mouth to protest, bending to kiss her cheek. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

      His grandmother might feel a lot less guilty if she knew how right her husband had been, Jessica reflected, but Zac obviously had no intention of telling her. Henry Prescott didn’t hold the monopoly on ruthlessness in this family—in the male line, at any rate.

      They confronted the old man in the small sitting room, where he was ostensibly perusing a newspaper. There was no hint of contrition in the eyes he raised to the pair of them.

      ‘So Brady let the cat out of the bag.’

      Zac’s jaw tautened. ‘You mean he was in on it too?’

      ‘Not until he asked me what was going on after Jessica here informed him I was dying.’ The last with a faint smile. ‘Not a total lie. We’re all of us heading for death from the moment we’re born.’

      ‘Supposing Zac had mentioned it to Brady when he first heard?’ asked Jessica.

      ‘There was little chance of that. You must have realised for yourself that my grandsons converse only where absolutely necessary.’ His gaze sharpened a fraction. ‘Would it have made any difference if you’d known the truth?’

      ‘Only in the time element,’ Zac cut in before she could answer. ‘We’d probably have waited a few more weeks, that’s all.’

      ‘No great harm done then. To the good, in fact. You’ve some catching up to do.’

      Jessica took his meaning immediately. She opened her mouth to refute the suggestion, closing it again as she caught Zac’s glance.

      ‘What will be will be,’ he said mildly. To his grandmother, hovering in the background, he added, ‘Which room will we be using?’

      ‘The one Brady and Sarah usually have,’ she said, both sounding and looking relieved to have it over with. ‘I’m so glad you’re staying the night again.’

      ‘Might be the last chance we get for a while,’ Zac returned.

      Esther’s face lit up. ‘I thought we’d have a barbecue this afternoon. Jimmy’s cleaning up the grid and laying the charcoal now. Our odd-job man,’ she added for Jessica’s benefit. ‘He can turn his hand to anything. Don’t know how we’d manage without him!’

      ‘We’d find somebody else,’ said her husband complacently. ‘Lunch in half an hour, you two, so don’t go getting involved in anything up there.’

      Jessica gave a weak smile. The way she felt at the moment, it was most unlikely.

      The room they were to share was spacious, with a four-poster bed that would normally have delighted her. Her wedding dress was hung on the wardrobe front in mute reminder.

      ‘You could at least have given him a piece of your mind for putting you through what he did!’ she said with force. ‘There’s no wonder he thinks he’s a law unto himself when you all kowtow to him the way you do!’

      Zac shrugged. ‘What point would there be? The deed’s done. As we agreed last night, things could be a whole lot worse.’

      As if to prove it, he drew her to him and kissed her, rousing her the way he always did.

      ‘You heard what your grandfather said,’ she murmured unsteadily against his lips. ‘Lunch in half an hour. Twenty minutes now, in fact.’

      ‘Time enough for some,’ came the reply, ‘but I was never into quickies.’ He put her from him again, his smile cursory. ‘It will save. Just unpack what you’ll need for tonight. We’ll be leaving right after breakfast.’

      Jessica did so, wishing they could be on their way right now. The more she saw of Henry Prescott, the harder it was going to be to stop herself from telling him just what she thought of his underhand tactics. It was high time somebody did!

      She went through the day with tongue held firmly in check—as much for Esther’s sake as Zac’s. Her marriage had taken place in an era when the man was still regarded as totalitarian head of the house. She’d probably never gone against him, and would no doubt find it upsetting if some other woman did.

      The barbecue was some relief. Jessica and Zac shared the cooking, helped along by glasses of wine, while the older couple reclined on loungers on the wide patio.

      Sheltered from the wind, it was wonderfully warm, the views superb. If things had been different, Jessica could have enjoyed spending further weekends down here. As it was, if they did come again it would be purely for show.

      They left after lunch on the Sunday. Relieved though she was to be free of the constant temptation to tell Henry Prescott what she thought of his tactics, Jessica viewed their return to the mews cottage without enthusiasm. Zac would be going in to the office tomorrow, leaving her to do…what? She could get rid of Barbara and tackle the housework herself, but that was hardly going to tax her resources. She wasn’t cut out to be a stay-at-home wife.

      ‘I’m going to start looking for a job,’ she stated after several miles had gone by. ‘I’d go crazy cooped up in the house all day!’

      ‘It’s hardly a prison,’ Zac returned drily. ‘You’ve the whole city on the doorstep! An open cheque-book too, if that’s what’s bothering you.’

      ‘I don’t want your money!’ Her tone was abrupt. ‘I’d rather earn my own.’

      ‘You know Grandfather’s views on working wives,’ he said after a moment.

      Jessica gave him a stinging sideways glance. ‘I realise you’d do just about anything to stay in his good books, but there’s a limit to how far I’m prepared to go. If you’re worried about his reaction, he doesn’t have to know.’

      ‘You mean lie about it.’

      ‘Only by omission.’

      ‘That’s splitting hairs.’

      ‘It’s maintaining the illusion,’ she retaliated. ‘The one you created to keep him sweet.’

      A muscle jerked suddenly along the firm jawline. ‘I didn’t notice you putting up all that much resistance to the idea.’

      She kept a cool tone with difficulty. ‘I don’t suppose I’m the first to allow principle to be overcome by lust. You’re a hard man to resist, Zac.’

      ‘Sure.’