He's My Husband! - Lindsay Armstrong [21]
‘I’ll take them off your hands,’ their father said ruefully.
Ten minutes later, Nicola looked into the den to see them all watching television peacefully, and with a sigh of relief she went to put the finishing touches to her table.
The formal lounge and dining area were one big room in the house on the Knob. A lovely old refectory table dominated the dining area, and tonight it was set with cream linen place mats, her own blue-glazed pottery candlesticks and an ivory porcelain dinner service. There was a low bowl of pink Cooktown orchids between the tall candlesticks.
Satisfied with the table, Nicola inspected the lounge area, plumping up some cushions on the oatmeal linen-covered settees, and the three jewel-bright velvet-covered chairs—one jade-green, one topaz-yellow and one Ming-blue. She adjusted the occasional tables and switched on some lamps, dimming the overhead light.
Finally she looked around, and nodded.
‘Satisfied?’ Brett said from behind her.
‘Yes. Are—?’
‘They’re fine; they’ve sworn to be on their best behaviour. I’ve had a shower, and I think you deserve a drink in the peace and quiet of the next fifteen minutes before everyone arrives.’ He handed her a sherry.
Surprise made Nicola arch an eyebrow, but. she took it with murmured thanks.
‘Sit down,’ he suggested. He’d changed into a fresh blue and white pinstriped shirt and navy trousers.
A glint of humour lit her eyes as she sank into the Ming chair. ‘I must be looking frazzled.’
‘Not at all.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘You’re looking very beautiful.’ His gaze lingered on her short, straight black dress, with its narrow trim of ivory satin around the neckline, armholes and hem. She wore a five-strand pearl bracelet, pearls in her ears and high, slender black sandals.
He glanced down the length of her legs, then studied her hair in its fair, smooth sweep to below her shoulders, and finally looked into her eyes, with amusement evident in his own. ‘Do you always take Chris’s advice on your appearance?’
‘He’s the only male I’ve got to go by. Strangely enough, he’s often right. Perhaps he gets his taste from you?’
‘Do you think I have good taste when it comes to women?’
Nicola chewed her lip and regretted saying anything on the subject. ‘Marietta was—is—very beautiful,’ she mused thoughtfully, though after a slight pause.
He watched her meditatively for a moment, then, ‘Marietta and I were violently attracted to each other. But I think we should have known better.’ He shrugged.
Nicola frowned. ‘That’s a strange thing to say. I don’t—understand.’
‘Well. it was very difficult to handle, even without the pressures of children, and her and my own dedication to our careers.’
‘But you did love her, didn’t you?’
‘I thought so at the time, Nicola,’ he said quietly.
‘But, whatever it was, it literally burnt itself out.’
Nicola blinked several times. ‘Why are you telling me this, Brett?’
‘Because I don’t think you’ve ever believed it’s over between us.’
‘No, I haven’t,’ she said honestly. ‘And, if you must know, I really think that between you you could have had more sense than to have not one but two children to inherit the burden of—’ she gestured ‘—a broken marriage.’
He stared down at the glass in his hands, then grimaced. ‘Hindsight is a very valuable commodity. But, if you look at it another way, mightn’t we be poorer without Chris and Sasha in our lives?’
Nicola stared at him and went quite pale. ‘Of course,’ she said, and closed her eyes. ‘Why did I say that?’
He smiled faintly. ‘Not because you don’t love them enough—even to considering yourself as their guardian angel, Nicola. Don’t look like that. And, as unwise as we may have been, Marietta and I, these things do happen. But I’m doing my level best not to let it affect them too much.’
‘So what happens when I’m gone?’ she asked abruptly.
He stood up, took her glass, and the front doorbell rang. ‘I would continue to have their best interests at heart, Nicola. Our guests have arrived.’
Talk about your mythical mistresses, Reverend Callam, Nicola found herself