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Authors: Patricia Wilson

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BOOK: Borrowed Wife
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‘I want
nothing from you,’ he reminded her father icily. Nothing you can give. What I
will finally have from you I’ll take! Abigail is nobody’s property. She’s
outside all this. We simply came to tell you that we’re getting married.’

They were
at the door and her father hadn’t even moved a step. Abigail looked at him
miserably, regret in her eyes. She had never had any say in anything at all.
Mostly her father ignored her unless it was about work and now she was just an
object to be fought over.

Obviously her father mistook her glance because a spasm of triumph crossed his
face.

‘Stay
here, Abigail,’ he said more calmly. ‘You don’t know Steele. He’s ruthless,
cruel!’ He didn’t say he loved her. He didn’t even bother to remind her that he
was her lather.

‘I have
to go with Logan,’ she murmured sadly. ‘I want to go with him. I love him. Why
does it have to be like this?’

‘She’ll
not marry you!’ Kent Madden raised his voice again, ignoring her, and Logan glanced at him with contempt.

‘She’s
mine already and she’ll stay mine. This is permanent. My secretary will send
you the wedding arrangements. Come or stay away as you please, but if you let
her down,’ he added, his voice lowered in menace. ‘If you’re not there to give
her away like any other father with his daughter it will be just one more count
against you. I’ll not forget it.’

There was
something in his voice that Abigail never heard before. For a moment, Logan was another person but she didn’t have the chance to think about. She was outside
the house and in Logan’s car, her past left behind. Her father didn’t attempt
to follow, didn’t even come to the door. And in Logan’s arms there was a
comfort she had never had in her life.

Ha father had come to the
wedding after all. He had given her away and he’d made a great effort to be
normal, though he hadn’t spoken to Logan or any of the guest on Logan’s side of the church. She had told herself that it was because he loved her too much
to let her down but now she knew differently. Even then, even before Logan had really started his deadly vendetta, Kent Madden had feared him.

Abigail
sighed and turned on her side, desperately seeking sleep. It was the only way
she had of escaping, and even then she often woke up in the middle of the
night, reaching out for Logan and then remembering that he was not there and
never would he there again

It had
not been a good idea to see him today. No good would come of it, no help for
them. All that had happened had been a stirring-up of the bitterness and she
had shown herself to be as vulnerable as ever. Her fainting spell must have
angered Logan and it had left her feeling very foolish. It would have been a good
idea to lie low and not remind him of her existence while he went on his deadly
way as he had done all this time.

 

Next
morning, the expected summons to the bank did not come and the day was spent in
waiting. For once, nobody was pestering her. Her phone hardly rang at all and
by the time she was ready to leave for home Abigail was more worried than ever.
No news might be good news but this was unnerving. Martha met her gaze with
puzzled eyes as she left the office.

‘What’s
happening?’ She looked at Abigail a little anxiously.

‘Something dreadful, I
expect.’ Abigail stood by Martha’s desk and sighed loudly. ‘They’re all
probably somewhere making a great plan to sink us swiftly.’

‘Never
say die,’ Martha urged, but Abigail shrugged wearily.

‘What
else is there to say? Today nothing happened, but we all know that it will
happen. Maybe tomorrow ‘

Certainly
tomorrow, she thought as she left the building. Perhaps by next week there
would be no need to come here every day. By next week this whole place might very
well belong to Logan.

It
couldn’t come soon enough. She was tired, worn out. When it was over she would
not have to think about Logan again. All this time, throughout all the fight,
she had held him at the back of her mind. When it was finally over she would be
free and she would just go away. She would probably take a job with Brian.

Martha
caught up with her just before she got to her car

‘Let’s go
for a coffee.’ She planted herself beside Abigail and ignored any surprised
looks.

‘All
right.’ Abigail turned back. Why not? When she got home there would be the
usual questions and the usual recriminations. At the moment she preferred Martha’s
company. Being late back was no problem and although Martha’s attitude was
unexpected Abigail was grateful for the break in routine.

‘I never
expected all this, you know,’ Martha confided when they were settled at a
corner table of a little café nearby. Well, not after you married anyway.’

‘I can’t
think why,’ Abigail stated glumly. ‘I was nothing, after all. I still don’t
know what it’s all about really. Battles in business I can understand, but this
enmity, this bitterness! Daddy was furious about the wedding but this is all Logan’s doing. There was something going on before I even met Logan but he never would
tell me, neither would my father. In fact, after I married Logan I didn’t see
my father much. It was too traumatic. He just used to fire questions at motions
I couldn’t answer.’

‘Your
father ruined the firm that Logan’s father started up,’ Martha informed her quietly.
‘As far as I know, it was all straightforward business.’ She shrugged ruefully
‘Some survive, some go under. Logan’s father went under; in fact, he died.’

‘But that
wasn’t my father’s fault!’ Abigail protested ‘I’ve told you all I know.’ Martha
looked at her steadily. ‘If I knew any more, I would tell you. You’ the one who
is suffering and it was all before your time.’

‘I played
right into Logan’s hands,’ Abigail mused with a far-away look on her face.

Martha
frowned grimly before saying, ‘He loved you.’

‘Oh,
please!’ Abigail gave a shaken laugh. ‘What Is this, Martha? I’m not a child
and I’m not an idiot Logan used me to get at my father. He wouldn’t even let me
have a baby because he knew it wasn’t going to last as a marriage. I was just a
means to an end.’

 

‘Suppose
you’re wrong?’ Martha asked softly.

He needed
me as a weapon. You must have heard all the talk about Fenella Mitchell. She
was before my time, during my time and I expect she’s with Logan still.’

Abigail’s
face tightened at the thought of the beautiful woman who had never really been
out of Logan’s life, was supposed to be his solicitor but she was much than
that. Everybody had known, and finally Abigail had known too. Logan had not
even bothered to deny it in the end. She had left him for a lot of reasons but
Fenella Mitchell had been the main reason. It was long now to look back coldly
and admit it. Logan had always been wealthy. His father’s firm might have been
ruined but Logan had money of his own, money that had come from his grandfather
and uncle in America. He had used that to rebuild the firm. He had also used it
to crush her father.

I’ll have
to go.’ Abigail stood to leave and Martha sighed. Her attempt to mediate had
been useless. The whole thing was a tangle that would never unwind.

‘Not done
a lot of good, have I?’ she asked woefully, and Abigail managed to summon up a
smile.

‘It would
take a miracle.’ And there were no miracles. According to her father. Logan had the monopoly of those and he kept them for himself.

When she got home, the
coldness of the house hit her afresh. It had always been like this, for as long
as she could remember. Her mother was just a hazy dream at the back of her mind
but she knew that even before her mother’s death her father had been totally
absorbed in his business interests and nothing else.

I
’m back.
Rose.’ She popped her head round the kitchen door and found Rose busily
preparing dinner.

 

‘I’ll not
be long,’ Rose said comfortably. ‘You’re a bit late tonight but it’s only what
I expected, you’re safely in. Your father’s in his study, I think.’

He would
be, Abigail mused. Going in there not avoidable, too. He expected a run-down on
the day’s events even when there was nothing to report. She stiffened her spine
and walked across the hall, opening the door of the study quietly.

At first,
she thought he was not in the room and she called out to him but got no answer
at all. Abigail just about to leave when she saw him. He was lying on the floor
behind his desk. She could see his feet and when she ran round she could tell
at once that he had collapsed with no warning, had fallen before he could alert
Rose.

She
dropped to her knees beside him, her hand coming to touch his face, and it was
cold, moist with sweat breathing was erratic, laboured and Abigail knew that
what she had dreaded for weeks had at last happened. It was his heart and she
raced from the room, calling to Rose and then getting to the telephone to call
an as ambulance. It might be too late. She just didn’t know, but he was so
cold—icily cold—his lips blue.

Later it
seemed to Abigail that she had lived a whole week during the following hour.
Rose had been no help at all. Panic had been her reaction as usual but the men
had arrived with the ambulance more quickly than Abigail had expected. Even so,
things looked bad. Her father had come round on the way to the hospital but he
had not really been aware of his surroundings, not really aware of her.

‘You
should have someone with you,’ the sister at the hospital said now, and Abigail
phoned Martha, was no one else. She might have phoned Brian but she knew he was
in Germany, and even Martha was out.

Abigail
left a message on her answering machine and then settled down to wait by
herself, to pace about and worry.

Once again she had not
eaten. She was shaking, cold in spite of the warmth of the hospital. It seemed
like the final blow, the last fierce lash of destiny, aimed at her. She had
little hope because hope had gone a long time ago. Now everything bad gone
wrong and once again Abigail blamed herself, going over and over in her mind
the things she had done or not done these past few weeks, searching for some
way she could have avoided this.

‘Sit
down!’ A strong hand took her arm, propelling her to a seat, the sound of the
voice sending colder shivers down her spine.

‘What are
you doing here? How did you...?’

Martha
Bates phoned me,’ Logan said shortly, his hand still forcing her to sit. ‘You
left a message on her answering machine and she rang me.’ He watched Abigail
grimly. ‘Apparently I should have anticipated this. She more or less ordered me
to rescue you. I’ve been roundly condemned and sentenced without a trial by
that staunch ally of yours.’

‘I never
asked her to phone you,’ Abigail protested unevenly. ‘I phoned her because I
had—had no one else and—’

‘Damn
you, Abigail! You’re my wife!’ Logan sat beside her and stared at her
ferociously. ‘Who else would you call but me?’

‘Please!’
Abigail began to laugh—a high, shaken laugh that showed how close to collapse
she was herself.

‘You’re the last person I
would want, the last person to come to my rescue at any time, and this is my
father! Did you come to see the final act?’

Logan
snarled something beneath his breath, stood and
walked away from her and she watched him panic-stricken eyes, he was just going
to leave and did need him here. She hadn’t meant to say those things because it
was not Logan who had brought this head attack on. It was her father’s own
attitude to everything, the way he drank, the way he drove himself and
everybody else. Whatever Logan had done it was not this.

Her eyes
closed with sheer weariness and she sat with her head bowed, jumping nervously
when Logan grasps her arm and pulled her to her feel, unable to believe that he
had come back.

‘Come
with me.’ he ordered grimly. ‘You need something inside you and you need to be
warm.’

‘I can’t
leave…’

‘You can.
Just round the corner is a small place where we can eat and get a drink. I’ve
asked the staff and they say it will be some time before there’s any change in
the situation. I’m taking my mobile phone with me and they’ll ring if anything
happens. No good can come of sitting here worrying. In any case. I’ll not allow
it. You’re coming with me.’

It was
useless to protest with Logan. His determination had always taken her along
with anything he wanted and nothing was different now. In any case, it was only
sound common sense and Abigail knew it.

‘I’ll
come,’ she signed, and he shot one of his lightning, crystal glances in her
direction.

‘There
was never any doubt about that,’ he grunted irritably.

Hunger,
shock and the sheer misery of the past few months had left Abigail almost numb
and now that she was with Logan she realised it. She was not fit to cope with
anything, neither a dying business nor the fact that her father was probably dying
too. She just sat and stated across at Logan as he ordered their drinks and
food from the bar of the small dark place he had found close to the hospital.

BOOK: Borrowed Wife
10.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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