She had been awake nearly all night, and close on twenty-four hours of arguing backwards and forwards with herself had left its effect. Her eyes looked huge in her small face, and she pushed the heavy mass of her copper hair back from her shoulders with a defeated gesture, unaware that Kieron had seen her reflection in the glass. He turned round, his eyes a deep, unfathomable navy blue, and Briony had to suppress the urge to snatch up Nicky and run as far and as fast as she could.
It was for Nicky’s sake that she had been compelled to decide in favour of Kieron’s proposal. It wasn’t merely that he was better equipped than she to give Nicky material things; it was the fact that if she refused she would be deliberately depriving her child of his father—something for which Nicky might find it hard to forgive her later. Since his birth his well-being had been her prime concern, and little though she wanted the marriage it was impossible to deny its benefits for Nicky, even if it only meant that she would be able to spend more time with him.
If Gina and Paolo had not been leaving she might have found the courage to defy Kieron, but without them she knew she could not provide Nicky with the stable, loving background he needed. Constantly haunting her was the fear that Kieron would make good his threat to remove Nicky from her by legal means, and it showed in her haunted, shadowed eyes.
‘I’m only agreeing for Nicky’s sake,’ she told Kieron bitterly.
‘Of course.’ The sardonic inflection troubled her. He seemed to dominate the small room, his motionless, watching stance sending shivers of fear trembling over her. She had been dreading his arrival all day, knowing that once she had committed herself there would be no escape. A heavy lethargy seemed to be pressing down on her.
‘How soon.…’ she began to ask, but although her lips formed the words, no sound could get past her tightly closed throat. She tried to speak again, panic clawing at her as Kieron swung round. His eyes narrowed, and she shrank back in fear as he walked over to where she was sitting. His face seemed to be dissolving above her. She heard words, but they had no meaning, reaching her through a wall of rushing water which grew louder and louder, and she felt herself falling into a bottomless black well.
‘She’s been overtaxing herself for years,’ Briony heard a masculine voice proclaim above her with professional certainty. ‘Looking after a lively two-year-old isn’t a picnic at the best of times, and by the looks of it, she’s been driving herself too hard. Still, from what you tell me, things should be a little easier for her from now on.’
‘Yes, we’re getting married as soon as it can be arranged.’
‘Umm. Well, I can’t see any reason to delay that. Probably just the opposite. The sooner all the excitement’s over and she can start to relax, the better.’
Briony moved restlessly, not liking being discussed as though she were an inanimate object. Kieron was standing beside her bed and registered the small movement, touching the doctor’s arm.
‘Well, young lady,’ he exclaimed jovially, ‘how do you feel now?’
‘Weak,’ Briony admitted. She was in her own bed, bright sunshine pouring in through the window, highlighting the overnight growth of stubble along Kieron’s jaw.
‘Nicky!’ She struggled to sit up.
‘Nicky’s fine,’ Kieron assured her curtly. ‘I phoned an agency who specialise in emergencies like this. Mrs Johnson has taken Nicky out for a walk.’
The doctor was closing his case.
‘What happened?’ Briony asked him uncertainly. She felt curiously lightheaded, her body weightless almost.
‘At a guess I’d say too many shocks on top of overwork and nervous strain. Your little boy had an accident, didn’t he, and the shock you suffered then was probably the final straw for your nervous system. You wouldn’t let it have the rest it needed, so it took matters into its own hands, and you blacked out. It isn’t entirely uncommon, but it isn’t to be recommended either, so from now on take things more easily. Don’t bottle everything up inside; the pressure has to get out somehow, you know.’
He picked up his bag, and Kieron went with him when he left the room.
Several hours of her life had vanished without trace, Briony thought, shivering. She could remember a horrible sense of consciousness slipping away and then nothing.
Her bedroom door opened and Kieron walked in.
‘Do you feel well enough to talk?’
She nodded, her mouth dry. It had occurred to her that her blackout might have been an attempt to escape from Kieron and their marriage, and she glanced uncertainly at him. She was wearing a short cotton nightdress, and had no memory of putting it on herself.
‘Did you…did you undress me?’
He eyed her with wry comprehension. ‘Don’t panic. I didn’t attempt to slake my animalistic desires on your defenceless body, if that’s what’s worrying you.’ His eyes slid over her prone form, glinting faintly as they returned to her flushed face. ‘I’ve made all the arrangements for the wedding,’ he told her calmly. ‘Mrs Johnson will look after Nicky for the day. I’ve arranged for her to pack his clothes and yours. I don’t want a repeat performance of last night—it wouldn’t exactly look good if my bride fainted away at my feet.’ He ran a hand along his jaw. ‘I don’t suppose you have such a thing as a razor, do you? I went upstairs to see if I could borrow one from Paolo, but I couldn’t get any answer.’
‘They’ve had to go back to Italy. Paolo’s brother is seriously ill.’
‘We’ll need to look for a house,’ Kieron commented coolly, ‘but that will have to wait until you’re feeling better. You and Nicky can move into my apartment for the time being. I don’t intend to spend any more nights on your settee. I like to sleep—and make love—in slightly more comfortable surroundings these days.’
Briony’s lips compressed into a bitter line. ‘There won’t be any “making love” between us, Kieron, and moving into your apartment is out of the question. Nicky needs a garden to play in. You can’t coop up a boisterous child in a flat.’
‘No “making love"? Shouldn’t you wait until you’re asked?’ Kieron drawled softly. ‘If the apartment’s out, what did you have in mind? There isn’t room for the three of us here.’ He glanced disparagingly round her small bedroom, his glance encompassing the narrow single bed. ‘Or were you hoping to relegate me to the other flat?’
It was exactly what Briony had had in mind. Her hands shook as she gripped them together beneath the bedclothes. His earlier sardonic comment about her ‘waiting to be asked’ had touched a raw nerve, and she was in no condition to argue with him.
‘Your using the upstairs flat would be a sensible solution,’ she pointed out, trying to appear logical. ‘Nicky isn’t properly used to you yet.…’