All The King's Horses: A Tale Of Eternal Love (13 page)

Christy and Megan were talking about Megan’s marriage now. He was catching snippets here and there as they conversed in hushed tones in the seats behind him. Megan was explaining that Bruce had been too controlling, that he had watched her every move.

Kent smiled wryly. She was certainly a scheming little so and so. It was no wonder that Bruce had left her.

“He was paranoid…sooo paranoid,” Megan was saying.

“It isn’t paranoia if what you fear is happening actually is happening Kent thought. The poor guy would have had his work cut out for him keeping a watchful eye on his promiscuous wife.

“He was always accusing me of looking at other men,” she complained. “In the end we were arguing nearly every day.”

Kent chuckled quietly to himself. It wouldn’t have been the fact that she was looking at other men that would have bothered Bruce it was how she was looking at them. She had the lust-filled eyes of the true nymphomaniac, and had no qualms about letting a man know what she wanted by the use of those eyes. The real tragedy was not that their marriage had failed, but that Bruce had suffered her indiscretions for so long. Kent sincerely hoped he had found happiness with a woman more deserving of him than Megan had been.

“So I left him,” Megan was saying now. “I packed my bags and came to Datchet. He’s back in London.”

More like he left you because of your adulterous ways Kent thought to himself.

“I’ve insisted that the cottage will be part of my divorce settlement,” she said officiously.

“And Bruce is okay with that?” Christy asked.

“Who cares if he’s not, he was lucky to have me, and if he’s not man enough to hang on to me then it’s going to cost him.”

What a cow. Imagine being married to a loser like her. Kent wondered how Christy was taking all this? He had his back to her so couldn’t see her face, but surely she was thinking the same as him?

Bruce was a wealthy man. But he owed most of his success to me. It was me who got him his promotions.

No prizes for guessing how she did that Kent mused.

“The times I had to put up with his superiors fawning all over me, or the times I had to play the generous hostess.” She huffed. “He would have got nowhere if it wasn’t for me.”

Kent shook his head. She would have been an embarrassment to him. Bruce wouldn’t have been able to take her anywhere socially she would have given the eye to anything in trousers.

“I’ll be getting substantial cash settlement as well,” she said gleefully. “It’s time I got to live the good life, I deserve it.”

Kent rolled his eyes. He could think of plenty of things she deserved but none of them involved a substantial cash settlement.

Datchet trundled into view and Kent was glad of it. Megan’s selfish ranting had exhausted him, and now all he could think about was catching up on some much needed sleep.

“You go on up to the bedroom and get some sleep,” Christy suggested, when they had reached the cottage. “It’ll be the effects of the jetlag that’s making you so tired.”

“Thanks, I think I will, I didn’t sleep so well last night so a couple of hours now should put me back on track.”

Kent trudged wearily up the stairs to the bedroom and closed the door. He was glad Christy would be entertaining Megan for the next few hours because quite frankly he had lost all respect for the woman.

Pulling his clothes off and dumping them in a heap on the floor he slipped into bed. It had been an eventful day, he had heard about women like Megan but he had never met one until now. He was so glad Christy wasn’t like her.

Kent didn’t know how long he had been asleep before he was woken by the bedroom door creaking open. “Christy…?” His bleary eyes tried to focus in the gloom.

“No…it’s Megan.”

“Megan…?”

“Christy’s gone done to the village to buy some groceries. She’ll be gone for the next two hours at least.”

Kent’s tired brain tried to process the information. Christy was off somewhere buying groceries. Okay, so what did that have to do with Megan being in his bedroom? “What’s happened?” he asked.

“Nothing’s happened, Kent,” she said quietly, “I’ve just come in to spend some time with you.”

“Spend some time with me…what for?”

“I know you want it. I knew the moment your eyes first locked onto mine that you were up for it.”

His foggy brain tried to compute. She said he was up for it, and that he wanted it. Nope, he had no idea what she was on about. “I’m sorry, Megan, but I don’t understand.”

“Oh, come on, Kent,” a hint of irritability had crept into her voice, “we don’t have much time. If we’re going to do this then we have to stop playing games.”

“Do what?” His eyes had become accustomed to the gloom now and he could pick her out quite easily. She was dressed in a white bathrobe and was leaning with her back up against the bedroom door.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She stepped clear of the door and walked over to the bed as Kent propped himself up on one elbow. “You have wanted me from the moment we met.”

“Wanted you…Megan, what are you talking about?”

She tilted her head slightly to one side and fixed her eyes on his. “I declare you are the most frustrating man I have ever met.”

Kent just stared back at her. In his groggy state he still couldn’t figure out what she was doing in his room. “I’m not sure I know what this is all about,” he said eventually.

“Then I’ll show you,” she said, undoing her robe and letting it drop to the floor. “This is what it’s all about.”

If he wasn’t fully awake before he certainly was now. Megan stood there in all her naked glory, and she was magnificent.

“It’s time you took me, Kent. This might be the last opportunity you get. It wasn’t easy for me to persuade Christy to go and do the shopping on her own.”

So that was what this was all about. His exhausted brain had struggled to figure out what was going on, but it was well and truly up to speed now. The episode on the beach earlier this morning had made her bolder than ever. He knew he shouldn’t have rubbed that sunscreen on her.

“We have this small window of opportunity,” she continued, “but I don’t think we’ll get it again. Christy is too shrewd to believe there isn’t something going on between us for much longer.”

“There isn’t anything going on between us,” he said quickly.

“Not yet, but there will be, just as soon as you slide over and make some room for me.”

“Look, Megan, you’ve read this whole thing wrong. I’m not the cheating kind.”

“All men are the cheating kind, Kent. They just need their appetite whetted first.”

“Not this man,” he said adamantly, trying hard to keep his eyes on her face but failing miserably. “When I married Christy I made a vow to be faithful, and I aim to keep that vow.”

“I’m sure that’s all very noble. But it’s not very realistic is it? A man isn’t designed to be monogamous. It goes against nature.”

“You can keep your theories, Megan,” he said tersely. “I don’t give a toss what you think I’m designed to do. I’m not going to cheat on Christy and that’s all there is to it.”

“So you’re prepared to miss out on the time of your life?”

“It wouldn’t be the time of my life. I’ve already experienced that with my beautiful wife.” He had the bit firmly between his teeth now. “You’d be a poor substitute for her. You might have a great body, Megan, but you’re sadly lacking in the qualities that really count. In short, you’re not a patch on Christy.”

Her mouth fell open. “Nobody has ever spoken to me like that before,” she retorted angrily, “especially in my own house.”

‘High time somebody had then. You’re no better than a slut,” he said coldly. “Only a slut would attempt to pull off a stunt like this, and with her best friend’s husband too.”

She glared furiously at him for a few seconds before scooping up her bathrobe and storming from the room.

He lay his head back down and considered what had just taken place. Megan wasn’t the type of woman to let his rejection of her slide. She was bound to do something unpleasant but he wasn’t sure what. Her eyes had fired pure daggers at him just before she left; she had never had a man turn her down before. He was reminded of the old adage ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,’ and knew he was going to be in for a rocky time of it.

He suddenly heard voices down stairs and so springing out of bed he pulled on his trousers and stumbled out onto the landing to listen in.

“I tell you, Christy, you need to get rid of Kent,” she said spitefully. “He’s been coming on to me the whole time he’s been here.”

Kent’s heart sank. So that was the angle she was going to play. She was little miss innocent and he the lecherous adulterer who wouldn’t leave her alone.”

“I’ve come across men like him time and again and they never change. Do you know I’ve just had him in my bedroom while I was trying to catch up on some sleep? No prizes for guessing what he was after. Spelled his intentions out very clearly he did.”

Kent swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. She was doing a real hatchet job on him. This holiday was turning into a disaster.

“I don’t think so, Megan,” Christy said calmly. “I think the truth is you were in his bedroom spelling out your intentions and he rejected you.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would I come on to him?”

“Because that’s what you do. That’s what you’ve always done. You see a man you fancy and are determined to have him. You don’t care whom you hurt in the process.”

“I realize this has come as a shock to you,” Megan said, “and that you don’t want to believe your husband is capable of such behavior, but I’m afraid he is.”

“Nonsense,” Christy said bluntly. “You see, Megan, I got to the store and realized I’d left my purse behind, so I came back for it. I couldn’t have timed my arrival better actually. I was almost to the top of the stairs when I saw you slip into Kent’s room.”

“I…I was…”

“You were planning to seduce him, that’s what you were up to. The problem for you being that Kent rejected you. And now, that’s what this is all about. It’s about revenge.” She stepped clear of Megan and called up the stairs. “Kent…”

Kent scooted down the stairway just as fast as his legs would carry him.

“Grab our bags would you?” she said, when he came into sight. “We’re leaving.”

♥

“I’m glad you came home when you did,” Kent said, as he lugged their bags through the door of the bed and breakfast. “If you hadn’t I don’t know how I would have convinced you I was innocent. She’s a very convincing liar.”

“I would have known, Kent.”

He gave her a puzzled look, “how?”

“If she’d got what she wanted she’d have had a self satisfied smirk on her face when I got back. Instead, she had the look of cold fury. I knew you’d turned her down. Besides, she’s been coming on to you ever since we got here, and you’ve been trying to avoid her.” She smiled at him. “It wasn’t difficult to see who was trying to do the bedding.”

“Why didn’t you step in and stop it?”

“I was testing you. I wanted to see what you’d do.”

“And I’ve passed?”

“With flying colors.”

He carried the bags into the bedroom and plonked them down. “I’m glad about that.” He turned in time to see her step out of her dress. “What are you doing?”

Her fingers reached for her bra strap and soon it too joined the dress. “I’m going to reward you, Kent,” she said. “So get into bed.”

“It hasn’t been much of a holiday so far,” he said, a cheeky grin lighting up his face, “but I think it’s just about to pick up.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“I want to know everything there is to know about you,” Christy said, as they gazed out on the Irish countryside from the battlements of a sixteenth century castle.

“There’s not much to tell I’m afraid. I haven’t lived an exciting life.”

“That’s what’s so appealing about you,” Christy insisted. “You haven’t moved away from where you were born but you’re still an exciting man.”

He laughed boisterously. “You’ve still got stars in your eyes, Mrs. London. I don’t think anyone else would find me exciting.”

“Megan did.”

“Megan would have found anything in trousers that still breathed exciting. I’m convinced that woman is a nymphomaniac.”

She giggled at the suggestion. “She certainly has an insatiable sexual appetite.” Her eyes roved over the green fields with their stone walls and cattle grazing contentedly and thought how beautiful it all looked. “Tell me about your childhood.”

“It was uneventful really. Eight years at Paihia Primary School, and then a further four at Kerikeri High School. Best mate was Roddy Donaldson all the way through school.”

“Where is he now?”

Kent’s eyes took on a faraway look. “He took on a farming job and was killed in a tractor accident.”

“Kent…that’s terrible.”

“He was too inexperienced to do the task he was given to do.” He shook his head in disgust. “You just don’t put a seventeen year old boy on a heavy piece of machinery and send him up onto hill country. He didn’t know what he was doing.” He dropped a pebble over the battlements and let his eyes follow its descent. “The short story is he rolled the thing and was crushed to death.”

“You must have been devastated.”

He nodded. “He was closer to me than a brother. I still have trouble talking about it.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you.” She placed her hand on his forearm. “I can be a terrible sticky-beak sometimes.”

“You’re my wife you have a right to know these things, and if I can’t talk to you about it who can I talk about it with?” He let another pebble chase the first. “Mum died of breast cancer a few years later. I guess I became a bit of a recluse after that. Only had Dad left.”

“And he died a few years ago?”

“Yeah, of a broken heart I reckon. He never got over losing Mum.”

“Tell me about Jocelyn.”

He looked at her briefly before looking back at the countryside. “I wondered how long it would be before you got around to asking me about her.”

“She was a big part of your life, so I figure she helped shape you. That makes me interested in hearing about her.”

“I met her at a dinner at the Swordfish Club. We got on so well that evening that it was inevitable we’d end up together.”

Christy felt a tinge of jealousy. “Was she beautiful?”

“Yes, she was.” He guessed how she was feeling. “Are you being the jealous wife?”

“A little,” she looked down at his strong hands as he absentmindedly toyed with a stone. “You must have been very unhappy when she broke it off with you.”

He was silent for a moment. “It made me feel empty. We had got on so well that I didn’t actually believe the relationship could end.” He turned the stone over in his hands as if he were inspecting it. “That first week without her I thought I’d go crazy. I kept expecting her to walk through the door and tell me she’d changed her mind.” He tossed the stone over the side. “But she’d made her mind up. The sea was claiming too much of my time and she knew she couldn’t compete. And for my part I couldn’t come up with a happy compromise so she did what she thought was best.”

“And was it?”

“I guess it was for her.”

“You still love her don’t you?”

“I’d be lying to you if I said I didn’t. You can’t love someone like that and just switch it off.”

She looked hurt, and so placing his hands on her shoulders he gently turned her round to face him. “She was a big part of my life. You don’t ever just move on and forget that. But I can promise you, Christy, that I have never, and will never, love any woman as intensely and completely as I love you.”

She melted straight into his arms. It was what she had needed to hear. “I love you, Kent,” she murmured.

“I’m counting on it,” he admitted. “You own me body and soul so I’m sunk if you don’t.”

She looked up into his eyes. “Don’t you ever doubt it, not even for a second.”

Taking her by the hand he walked her down the stone stairs to the castle courtyard. “They knew how to build in those days,” he noted, his eyes scanning the crumbling rock of the ancient fortress. “Almost five hundred years later and it’s still standing.”

“I wonder how many lovers have visited this spot,” Christy mused. “It’s certainly a romantic spot.”

“Hundreds would be my guess. Five hundred years is a long time, and even at only two lovers a year that would bring the tally to at least a thousand.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of love floating around these old castle walls.” She linked her arm through his. “And we won’t be the last lovers to come here.”

“No, far from it, lovers will be finding their way here long after we’re dead and gone.”

The mention of death gave him a jolt. He had tried valiantly to put the possibility of Christy’s early demise far from his mind the past couple of weeks and had succeeded. But now it forced its way back in. He couldn’t, he mustn’t lose her now. Not after the way she had totally captured his heart. He had meant every word he had said to her up there on those ancient battlements, there could never be anyone else for him now, not after her.

“Let’s go for a walk down the hill to the brook,” Christy suggested. She led Kent out onto the narrow track that led away from the castle and walked hand in hand with him towards the brook. He had gone quiet all of a sudden and she didn’t know why. Perhaps it had been the mention of Jocelyn that had caused it. She shouldn’t have pressured him to talk about her. It was unfair to dredge up something that was obviously still painful for him. She gave his hand a light squeeze and he smiled at her. But somehow the smile looked sad.

“It looks like something from out of a fairytale,” she said, as they stopped to take one last look at the castle.

“Yes, it does,” Kent agreed. “You half expect to see a ghost complete with clanking chains to peer over the side of the battlements.”

“What would you do if one did?”

“I’d march right up to the castle walls and demand he tell me what he thought he was doing trespassing in Princess Christy’s castle.”

“You would not. You’d run just as fast as I would.”

“No I would not, Your Highness. I would stand and fight to save my sovereign from the evil that doth invade thy realm.”

Her eyes filled with the love that she felt for him. He was always making her laugh. “You’re a wally,” she said teasingly.

“Sir Wally at your service, Your Highness,” he said, bowing deeply.

“On your knees when you address your sovereign, Knave.”

He complied. “I prostate myself before you, My Majesty,” he said.

She giggled. “Prostate? It’s prostrate, you wally.”

“Please, Your Majesty,” he said, with exaggerated dignity, “do not interrupt me.” His hand had found its way inside her skirt and was beginning its journey up the length of her thigh.

“Oh, Sir Wally,” Christy said breathlessly, “you are a knave.”

“Hush, Your Majesty, you are breaking my concentration.” The hand crept closer to its goal.

Christy looked around nervously. “I think you had better stop, Sir Wally, somebody may see us.”

“If he dare interfere, Your Majesty, I shall run him through with my trusty sword.”

Christy gave a little moan as the hand reached its destination. “Kent…I think you’d better stop.”

“Why, Your Highness, doth I displease you?”

Her breathing was coming much quicker now. “It’s too public here.”

Standing up he scooped her into his arms and made for a small grove of trees several yards off the track. “I shall protect you in yonder wood, Your Majesty,” he said with mock gallantry.

“Was that encounter pleasing to, “Your Highness?” he asked twenty minutes later, as they emerged from the copse into the warm afternoon sunshine.

“I think I can make room for you in my court, Sir Wally.”

He bowed low again. “Who am I that, Your Highness, should bestow such an honor upon?”

“You may arise, Sir Wally,” Christy said officiously, “but you must be sure to never let your performance slip, for you can easily be replaced.”

As he took her by the hand and headed back for the track she was pleased to see a smile on his face, and this time it didn’t contain a hint of sadness.

♥

That night they stayed in a little bed and breakfast snuggled on the shores of a lake. Christy was the happiest she had been in her entire life. She hadn’t known married life could be this good.

She had learned a lot about her husband today. All those things she hadn’t had time to learn before they got married. His favorite color was red, he adored vanilla ice cream, and he loved Christmas. He had told her about all the things that annoyed him, and everything that he wished he had the power to change in the world but could not. Yes, they had talked well into the night, only stopping when she could no longer keep her heavy eyelids from closing.

When she opened them the following morning she was surprised to see him standing with his arms folded and staring out the window at the lake.

“Come back to bed,” she said sleepily.

As he turned to look back at her she received a sudden jolt. It looked like he had been crying.

“Are you alright?” she asked, sitting up suddenly.

He turned back to his study of the lake. “Just a little melancholy,” he said quietly. “Early mornings do that to me sometimes.”

She didn’t know whether to go to him or just leave him be. She had thought him quite cheerful before they fell asleep last night. There must be something on his mind for him to shed a few tears. Kent just wasn’t the type to cry.

“Come back to bed and I’ll make it worth your while,” she coaxed. She didn’t know what else she could do to lift his gloomy spirits. Besides, the tactic had worked wonders for him yesterday.

“You go back to sleep,” he said softly. “I think I’ll take a walk along the lake.”

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“No. I want you to get some more sleep. You look very tired. Try and sleep a little longer. I’ll be back in time for breakfast.”

Grabbing his coat off the chair by the bed he slipped through the door before she had time to answer.

Christy sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes before putting on her dressing gown and moving over to the window. She watched Kent as he walked with head down and shoulders hunched to the lakes edge. Something was troubling him. Something that he didn’t want to discuss with her and that hurt more than a little. She wanted to reach out to him, to help him, be included in his little world, but he wouldn’t let her in.

A solitary tear slid past her defenses and rolled down her pale cheek. She didn’t want to be excluded. She longed to be admitted to every far flung corner of his mind.

♥

Kent stood at the edge of the lake and stared into the still water. A dense mist was slowly rolling in off the lake and would soon reach the spot where he was standing.

He had been so happy last night as he lay in bed with Christy snuggled comfortably under his arm. They had talked about everything and nothing, and she had commented on his slow steady heartbeat as she pressed her ear to his chest. He had felt so hopelessly in love with her at that moment that nothing else seemed to matter.

Then he had woken up. There was something about the gloomy light of early morning that could sink a man’s spirits low. There was a blackness hanging over him that clung to him like the thick fog off the lake was clinging to him now. It seeped into every pore of his troubled mind, leaving him wallowing in this inky blackness of despair.

The morning had brought not only its light, but harsh reality with it, reminding him that his beloved wife was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any moment, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Droplets formed on his eyelashes and then found their way onto his cheeks. He didn’t care. They could join the warm tears that were already there, tears that he silently shed for his beautiful wife, she who had so filled his heart with love and acceptance, but whom he knew he was going to lose.

How long would he have her for? Would it be a year? Two years? Just when would that silent but deadly fiend return?