'We have an active social Me. My friends...'
'Your friends despise me. They only put up with me because I'm your appendage. Actually—' she smiled briefly, amazed at her daring '—I don't much like them, at least not most of them.'
The colour that suffused the pale, perfect oval of her small face was quite becoming. 'Colourless' was the adjective he most frequently associated with this girl he'd married—it sure as hell wasn't applicable now!
"Then why haven't you seen fit to mention it before?'
'I didn't think it was relevant. I'm quite prepared to take the rough with the smooth.' But I won't give up the French classes. It wasn't necessary to add this; Ethan wasn't dense.
"That's very tolerant of you. Do you consider there to have been much that is rough for you to endure over the past year?'
'Next you'll be saying I was in the gutter,when you found me,' she cut in impatiently. She ignored his sharp inhalation of anger and continued firmly. 'You can expect my loyalty, but not my unstinting gratitude, Ethan. If you remember, I did warn you I wouldn't be the world's best hostess, but I'm a good mother.'
'Mother substitute.' She flinched, and his expression seemed to indicate he regretted his hasty response. 'The children love you.' This was meant to soften his sharp correction but only served to bring a lump of emotion to Hannah's throat. 'Do you find me such an ungenerous husband?'
It wasn't fair of him to bring affection into the discussion because affection, or rather the lack of it, had been implicit in their bargain.
'I didn't say that.'
Right from the outset he'd insisted that she spent money from the generous personal allowance that appeared in her bank account every month. Ethan Kemp's wife couldn't have a wardrobe that consisted of jeans and jumpers. When he'd discovered she couldn't overcome her reluctance to spend money, he'd sought the help of the wife of one of his colleagues.
Hannah wasn't sure whether Alice Chambers had genuinely awful taste or she just didn't like her. Whichever was the truth, the clothes Hannah came home with from their joint shopping expedition did nothing whatever for her slight figure, and the colours made her appear washed out and insipid.
Some of the annoyance faded from Ethan's expression as he took in the pale fragility of her unhappy face. With her glossy hair hanging softly about her face she looked incredibly young. She was incredibly young; he was apt to overlook the age gap sometimes. Usually she had the composure of someone much older.
'No, you didn't, but it is fairly obvious you're discontented. I had no idea.'
'How could you?' The retort escaped before she could censor it Some days they barely exchanged two words. 'I'm not discontent, just tired,' she said dully. The loneliness of her position rushed in on her and it was more than she could bear tonight. Just go, please go! she thought miserably.
As if he detected her passionate wish, he turned abruptly. 'We'll talk in the morning.'
Now there's something to look forward to, she thought, torn between tears and laughter as the door closed. In the privacy of her secret dreams she'd imagined him using that door. Usually he'd just woken up to the fact that he'd been unaccountably blind to her charms. In none of those meticulously constructed scenarios had she had a runny nose, scratches over half her body or hair flopping hi her eyes.
Falling in love with Ethan Kemp was the only truly spontaneous thing she could recall doing in her life. You didn't have to be a starry-eyed believer hi love at first sight to have it happen to you; she was the living proof. Her prosaic soul had been set alight the instant she'd set eyes on him. He was tall, with an impressive athletic build, and one glance into those shrewd eyes had told her he had an intellect to match his muscles. Never one to respond to superficial beauty, she'd been inexplicably bowled over. None of these passionate cravings had been evident in her colourless replies as she'd sat through the interview. If they had she doubted she'd have got the job.
Worshipping him from afar had always made her particularly inarticulate in his presence, but, so long as the children were happy, Ethan's interest in their nanny had been minimal. When he'd first started to show an interest in her lukewarm friendship with Matt Carter, a local primary school teacher, she had almost allowed herself to think he might have noticed her as a person.
As it had turned out, he'd just been afraid history was about to repeat itself. Emma and Tom had had three nannies in the year before she'd arrived. Tom had been one, and he'd simply responded to anyone who'd offered him love and warmth. His sister had been a different proposition—five when Hannah had first arrived, and it had been an uphill battle for Hannah to win her trust. Her short life had taught Emma it was painful to love someone only to have them vanish. Hannah could identify with her suspicion, and slowly she'd won the child's f trust, until by the end of that first year she'd become an integral part of the children's lives.