Deceit Of A Pagan

Templar went round to see Mary at lunch-time. She didn’t think she would be able to bring Keri over so often now that they were living further away, although there was a park near them now so she would be able to take her there. Fresh air was something neither of them had enough of.

‘Hello, love,’ Mary greeted her in surprise. ‘What brings you round? Not that it isn’t nice to see you, but you don’t usually call on a Friday.’

‘Well, I—’ Templar hesitated about revealing her change of address, not that she didn’t trust Mary, but from what she had seen of Leondro Marcose she thought he could be completely ruthless on occasion. And it wasn’t fair to involve Mary in her troubles, she had enough of her own. She smiled brightly at her friend. ‘I just felt like coming round. It’s a lovely day outside, why don’t we go out for a walk? We could do some window-shopping.’

‘Mm, lovely. Just wait a minute while I get my coat. Samantha’s at nursery school this morning,’ Mary sighed. ‘At least by the time this one’s born she’ll be old enough to join Melanie at school. Peter will insist on trying for a boy,’ she smiled slightly. ‘Men and their male ego!’

Templar couldn’t have agreed more, although she didn’t say so. It was relaxing to walk around the shops, even if neither of them could afford to buy anything. Occasionally Templar would see one of her old crowd when out on these walks, but besides a polite hello she didn’t attempt any conversation with them.

Howard was in one of his more boisterous moods when she got back to the office and she could only assume he had been on one of his selling lunches again. When this happened he and the client had usually drunk so much that neither of them could remember what policies had or had not been taken out. Without saying a word Templar prepared him some black coffee, placing it unquestionably before him.

‘What’s this for?’ He looked at her through bleary eyes.

‘Drink it, Howard,’ she said quietly. ‘It will do you good.’

‘Are you implying I’m drunk?’ he asked sneeringly.

Templar didn’t know what to say; as usual the drink had made Howard nasty and the best thing for her to do was keep out of his way. She moved quietly away from him and didn’t see his quick movement as he put out a hand and pulled her down on to his knees.

‘Howard!’ She was deeply shocked. No matter how much he had drunk he wasn’t usually like this. ‘Stop it!’

‘What’s the matter, girl?’ he snapped. ‘You weren’t always so fussy, were you? What about that little bast—–’

‘Don’t you dare say that, Howard! Don’t you dare! Keri was born out of love, not what you’re implying.’ She struggled to get out of his arms. ‘I think you’ve said quite enough for one day!’

‘I could not agree more.’

Templar stopped struggling at the sound of that cold clipped voice and looked up, straight into the contemptuous blue-grey eyes of Leondro Marcose. He was looking at the two of them as if they were something thing rather nasty that had wandered into his line of vision. She stood up, smoothing down her plain navy-coloured skirt and straightening her pure white blouse.

Howard struggled to his feet, shifting uncomfortably under the other man’s cold stare. ‘Who the hell are you?’ he blustered.

Leondro Marcose moved further into the tiny office that Howard rented, looking scathingly at the untidy clutter that was their work. ‘I am Leondro Marcose. But I might ask you the same question? Also, what you were doing to my fiancée when I entered the office?’

Howard looked at Templar with dazed eyes, and well he might; she was a little dazed herself. ‘Your fian—–? Leondro Marcose—–? You didn’t tell me you were engaged,’ he added accusingly.

Leondro Marcose looked down his haughty nose at the red-faced man. ‘I was not aware that Templar had to inform you of happenings in her personal life—except of course in connection with tendering her notice,’ he flicked an imaginary speck off his suit jacket.

Templar glanced at him sharply, her gratitude at his intervention now turning to suspicion. What was he doing here anyway? She didn’t remember telling him where she worked, unless of course Mrs Marks had—–? But no, surely not. But then what did it really matter how he had found her, he had, and she had a feeling that he would wait no longer for her decision—or at least, no longer than it took him to get her out of here. Not that she wanted to stay under the circumstances. Howard had been very insulting, the remarks he made about Keri unforgivable, and his behaviour had been too familiar for her to carry on working for him any longer.

‘What notice?’ Howard demanded. ‘I haven’t been told about any notice being given.’

‘It was to have been tendered today, Mr Hathaway,’ the tall alien-looking man informed him coldly. ‘But your behaviour has made that unnecessary. In the circumstances I am sure you will realise that I can do no other than remove Templar from your unwanted attentions,’ he turned to Templar. ‘Are you ready to leave now?’

She moved jerkily, collecting her coat and shopping before following her ‘fiancé’ as he moved back towards the door. Surprisingly Howard detained her just as she was leaving, clutching frantically at her arm.

‘Templar! Please,’ he begged as she turned to look at him with cool green eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Templar, I really am.’ The arrogance of Leondro Marcose had sobered him more quickly than any coffee would have done.

She removed his hand from her arm. ‘It was the drink talking, Howard, I realise that. But you must realise I can’t possibly stay here any longer, not knowing the way you feel about Keri and myself.’ She was ever conscious of Leondro Marcose’s chilling features and wondered how she could ever leave with him.

Howard stepped back away from her as he saw the frosty looks he was receiving from the man at her side. He had been taken slightly off guard when this man had walked in, but now he wondered how Templar could possibly have met such an imposing man. This man’s reputation as a ruthless businessman was known worldwide, and Howard would hardly have put Templar in the society he was likely to mix in. But then Templar had been an up-and-coming model before she had her baby, so perhaps this was the child’s father. It wouldn’t surprise him. He was a handsome devil in an aristocratic sort of way and there was no doubting Templar’s beauty, enough to catch the eye of any man.

Leondro Marcose’s eyes narrowed at the dawning realisation in Howard’s face. ‘If you will excuse us,’ he nodded stiffly, opening the door that Templar had little choice but to go through. He gave her chance to say nothing until he had her firmly seated in the luxurious sports car he had parked outside. ‘Now you may talk,’ he said haughtily, his face intent on the traffic as he manoeuvred the car along the busy streets.

‘I have nothing to say.’ She held herself erect, unwilling to relax back in the comfortable seat. She felt as if she were riding on a cloud, and by the sleek line of the car she guessed it was a foreign make. Not that she knew much about cars, she couldn’t tell the brake from the accelerator.

He looked at her with amusement. ‘If what you say is true then you are truly a remarkable woman. You are the first one I have found to be so silent.’

‘Then you can’t have met many women,’ she replied tartly. ‘I know many women who like to sit quietly.’

‘Ah, now that is different. I too know many women who like to sit quietly, but that does not mean that you cannot see they have plenty they would like to say. As to my not knowing many women, I can assure you that I have not lived for thirty-six years without coming to know the complexities of women very well. I, like you, have had many—acquaintances, shall we say?’

‘I understand, Mr Marcose. I understand perfectly!’

‘No, you do not. But it is unimportant that you do,’ he glanced sideways at her. ‘And my name is Leon—use it.’

She bit her lips to stop them trembling. All her efforts to never see this man again had been futile. She should have realised that a man of his arrogance and bearing would not let an insignificant nonentity like herself stop him from getting what he wanted. Well, perhaps she wasn’t completely insignificant, she was Keri’s mother after all.

‘I can’t call you Leon,’ she said finally when she had her emotions under better control. ‘You may be Keri’s uncle, but that doesn’t give you any special privileges where I’m concerned. If you’re anything like her father then I would rather not have met you at all. My meeting with Alex was born out of necessity rather than choice.’

‘And does the fact that he is dead and unable to help you make your need any less important?’ he snapped harshly. ‘Or are you willing to carry on as you have been doing, barely managing to support the two of you and having to accept your employer’s pawing in an effort to hold on to your job?’

There could be no doubt about it, Leondro Marcose was furiously angry. Up until now Templar had seen him condescending, arrogant, chillingly cool, and just downright rude, but never angry. In anger his eyes became a steely grey and his face gained an animation she found fascinating. But no, this man was made out of the same mould as his brother, taking his pleasures where he could and leaving the woman involved without a second thought, if indeed he had had first ones.

‘I would welcome your pawing even less,’ she told him vehemently.

‘You will never be given the opportunity to welcome or reject my touch.’ His eyes flickered over her insolently, from the auburn glory of her hair, over her make-upless face, and slowly down over her naturally slender body. She heaved a sigh of relief when the traffic lights changed to green, his attention once again centred on the road. ‘You do not attract me in the slightest,’ he added cruelly.

‘You can be assured that the feeling is reciprocated!’

‘Good,’ he said with some satisfaction. ‘And now that we have disposed of that little matter perhaps we can attempt an unemotional conversation. I would like to know what you think you have achieved by changing your address?’

‘Nothing, obviously.’

‘You hoped to evade making a decision one way or the other?’ Leondro Marcose queried mildly. ‘But surely you did not think that once I knew of Keri’s existence I would calmly leave you to make your choice? But no! You have a noticeably stubborn streak in your nature, Templar Newman, and I guessed you might attempt something of this nature. You have been closely watched since we last spoke together.’

‘I’ve been what?’

‘You have been watched,’ he repeated calmly.

She looked at him sharply. ‘So you’ve been checking up on me? And how many men were reported to have visited my flat?’ she asked sneeringly.

‘Only one. And apparently he did not look too pleased when he left the premises.’

‘Really? Oh dear, I must be slipping. My men usually go away satisfied,’ she told him shrilly.

‘Templar!’ he snapped, looking at her darkly. ‘You will not talk in this way.’

‘Why not? It’s what you expect of me, isn’t it, that men come to see me for one reason only?’ Her green eyes flashed her anger.

‘I have not said so,’ he replied stiffly.

‘No, but you’ve implied it.’

He shook his dark head. ‘Not in the way that you are saying it. If I thought that you went to bed with every man you met then Keri’s future would already have been settled—I would simply have taken her away from you. No, I believe that you have a certain amount of affection for the men you—please, otherwise you would not still have Keri in your care. I would have removed her straight away.’

‘Well, thank you very much for your faith in my morals, Mr Marcose, but I don’t need it. What you do or do not think doesn’t make any difference to me. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth!’

‘Not even for the baby?’ he asked softly.

‘Not even for her!’

With a tightening of his mouth he made no comment and Templar saw, thankfully, that they were nearing her flat. What would he do now? Would he simply take Keri away from her or would he not carry out his threat to do so? Somehow Templar knew he was a man of his word, and that her agreement to his plans wasn’t necessary to him. She hadn’t meant it just now when she had said she wouldn’t marry him to keep Keri, it just wasn’t true. She had been willing to marry Ken to keep her, and she was just as willing to marry this cold hard stranger for the same reason.

Without being given directions he had driven straight to her tiny flat, following her into the house where she collected Keri from a smiling Mrs Street and carried the gurgling baby up to her own room. This was the time of day she loved best with the baby, when she could play with her for an hour or so, give her her bath, feed her, and then tuck her sleepily into her little cot. If she had carried on with her modelling career all this would have been left to a nanny, with her snatching the odd day with the baby in between travelling to assignments. Much as she loved this daily ritual with Keri it would have to wait a while this evening. Rather annoyingly Keri seemed to have taken a liking to the tall man with her ‘Mama’, holding out her arms to him to be held. Templar thrust her into his arms, turning away tearfully as Keri gave him her angelic smile and received a softening of those harsh features in return.

‘Excuse me,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ll just go and put the kettle on.’ She fled into the kitchen before she made an absolute fool of herself. Close together like that there had been little doubt about their family likeness, and in a way Templar thought it unfair that Keri should have none of her mother’s fair looks at all. Poor Tiffany, who had given her life for that small precious bundle of fun gurgling so happily in the arms of her aunt’s greatest enemy.

Oh God, how she cursed herself for ever writing that letter! She should have waited for a few months, seen if things improved in any way. Instead her impetuous nature had led her into even greater unhappiness.

‘Templar?’

She didn’t turn, trying unsuccessfully to erase the tears from her cheeks. She felt herself gently turned round and she shivered slightly at the touch of his firm brown hands on her shoulders. Instantly they were removed. She looked at him through a sea of tears, flinching at the grim look in his now slate-grey eyes.

He forced up her chin. ‘Now stop this, Templar, it is unnecessary. And it spoils your beauty.’

She gave a tremulous smile at his gentle tone. ‘I thought that had already been spoilt.’

He turned away. ‘I have never denied your beauty, as I have never denied that Keri is like you in every way. Keri?’ he queried sharply. ‘Is this not a strange name?’

‘It’s short for Kerina,’ Templar explained, although she thought this an even more unusual name. Tiffany had chosen it herself during the few hours of life she had left to her after the birth of her daughter. Templar had never questioned it, but in the way that often happens the name had soon become shortened to Keri, and now she couldn’t imagine that little squirming mass of fun being called anything else.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked shortly.

‘Of course I’m sure.’ What a silly question! Did he imagine she didn’t even know the baby’s name? ‘Why?’ she asked curiously, sensing that it meant something to him.

He shrugged his wide shoulders. ‘It was my mother’s name. Alex loved her very much.’ A new respect entered his eyes. ‘And I think he must have loved you very much too for him to have told you about her. It is not something he would have told a mere—–’

‘Mistress?’ Templar supplied sweetly. ‘But what makes you think he did tell me about her? I might have just chosen that name at random.’

He shook his head. ‘It is hardly likely. It is too unusual for it to be so.’

Templar was inclined to agree with him. Tiffany had been adamant about the baby’s name and at the time she had been too ill for Templar to enquire why. And a few hours later she had died. But Alex must have told her about his mother, there could be no other explanation. Could Templar have possibly misjudged him? But no, his brother had admitted that Alex had a fiancée, that he was to have been married only a month after he died. No, Alex Marcose must have been as she had imagined him to be, a young boy out for fun. And Tiffany had been that fun. Poor Tiffany, to give her beautiful young life through the selfishness of such a boy.

‘What are you thinking about now?’ Leondro Marcose demanded arrogantly.

‘I was thinking that I will marry you after all. But on one condition.’

His head flicked back haughtily. ‘I hardly think you are in a position to make conditions, do you?’

Templar shrugged her shoulders. ‘That’s up to you, of course. But my condition is this—I will not be pushed off into the background of your life as if you’re ashamed of me. If that’s the case then I think the baby and myself will be better off without you. If we’re to be man and wife then I at least insist that we live in the same house.’

‘You will insist on nothing! You will do as you are told! You know as well as I that we have no desire to share the same house.’ His eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Or have you decided to try your womanly charms on me after all?’

‘Certainly not!’ Templar blushed a fiery red at his wrong conclusion to her plan. She merely hoped he would change his mind about marrying her and simply look after her and the baby instead. ‘That was the last thought on my mind. But if we’re marrying to provide a stable home for Keri I do think it would be better—for her—if her mother and father lived together. Or do you intend to be a shadowy figure who appears in her life every six months or so and showers her with gifts?’

‘That was not my intention. But neither was it my intention to live with you. You must see that it is impossible.’

Oh, she did, only too well—that was the whole point. ‘Then I’m afraid the idea of marriage is impossible too. It just wouldn’t work any other way. What could I say to Keri when she’s older and wants to know why we live apart? That’s almost as cruel as not having a father at all, crueller in some ways.’

‘Good God, you talk as if the situation you find yourself in was my fault!’

‘And isn’t it? Isn’t it? Alex was your brother. Didn’t he do exactly what you would have done in the same position? Didn’t he?’ she demanded.

He held himself stiffly. ‘I have never refused to face up to my responsibilities, and neither has Alex. He would have provided for you if you had informed him of your—condition.’

‘And if I didn’t want his charity?’

‘Then you were a very stubborn as well as stupid girl. But no matter, I regret I cannot live with you.’

‘Oh, don’t regret it,’ Templar said smugly. ‘I thought that might be your answer, and in the circumstances I can’t marry you. If you choose to take me to court about the baby’s guardianship that’s up to you, but I’ll fight it. Oh yes, I’ll fight it! I don’t think you would like the publicity any more than I would.’

‘Perhaps not, but I would win.’

‘Naturally,’ she admitted. ‘But would you like to put Keri through all that?’

‘Would you? Oh, very well! We will share a house. It will have to be near London, I have too many business ties here to live anywhere else.’ He looked impatiently angry at her blackmail.

Templar was dumbstruck, her plan backfiring on her. She hadn’t expected this. She had thought he would drop his ideas of marriage and instead she had made matters worse. She would now have to share a home with this man. She shuddered at the thought of it. ‘Um—–’ she hesitated. ‘Perhaps—perhaps you were right. We—we could live apart.’

‘No, you are right. Keri needs both parents.’

Templar felt a sick sinking feeling in her stomach. What had she let herself in for now?

CHAPTER THREE

TEMPLAR relaxed back on the garden lounger, smiling happily as Keri crawled about at her feet. They spent most of their afternoons like this and already, after only a few weeks, the two of them were attaining a healthy glow that had been sadly lacking. To Keri the huge garden was like a forest, and she loved nothing better than exploring its green depths.

It was three weeks since Templar’s quiet wedding to Leondro Marcose, or Leon as she now called him. Not that they were any more friendly towards one another, but she could hardly address her own husband as Mr Marcose. Mrs Harvey, the housekeeper Leon had engaged, would have found that very odd, even odder than their sleeping arrangements. Leon’s bedroom certainly adjoined her own, but the door between them was firmly locked and she could only assume that Leon had the key; she had certainly never seen it.

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