The Right Bride? (21 page)

If he took the easy way out, he’d never have to see Karyn again. The fierce attraction she’d exerted on him simply by existing would fade from his memory and from his body, becoming part of the past, a temporary madness.

Eclipsed by his marriage to her sister?

Fiona. Even as a boy, Rafe had understood that the heart of Fiona’s rich and comfortable life harbored an acute loneliness. She had no brothers and sisters, and her parents, while they loved her, were controlling and manipulative in ways sweet-natured Fiona was only rarely aware of. Was it fair to keep her in ignorance of her sister’s existence?

Karyn, although she was Fiona’s identical twin, had been differently molded. She wasn’t rich: when she’d sold the house that had been in her dead husband’s name, she’d used the money to pay off a substantial student loan. Which
brought Rafe back to the fact he’d been trying to avoid. Karyn had loved a man enough to marry him, and had suffered from his death. When she’d been standing by the wall in the sunlight, Rafe had been achingly aware of the character in her face, her features honed by experiences he’d chosen to disparage. Now he had some idea of what those experiences had been.

Fiona might learn what she herself was capable of from the woman who was her identical twin. Who better as a teacher? And was it up to him to prevent this from happening?

He had that power of prevention. He was a man used to wielding power. He could, single-handedly, keep the two sisters apart for the rest of their days.

Abruptly Rafe grabbed a jacket from the cupboard and opened the French doors to the stone patio. Hands thrust in his pockets, he set off through the garden toward the woods. He always thought better outdoors.

Temporary madness. That’s what he’d called it and that’s all it was, that kiss in the woods at dusk, that streak of lust when Karyn had fallen into his arms by the wall. He’d get over it.

From his left, deep in the trees, an owl hooted, a wild, plaintive cry that shivered along his nerves. Be honest, Rafe, he told himself caustically. The attraction went deeper than that. She’d felt it, too. Unarguably. Blood to blood and bone to bone.

Flesh to flesh.

How could he marry Fiona when he felt this overwhelming attraction toward a woman he hadn’t known existed two days ago?

One thing at a time. His primary decision right now was whether he should bring the two sisters together. Be
cause Karyn, he suspected, wouldn’t hang around the area very long.

What was he going to do?

At seven the following evening, Rafe was navigating the narrow streets of Hart’s Run, forty miles from Droverton. Fiona was sitting beside him in his adored green Ferrari. She said lightly, “You’re being very mysterious, Rafe.”

“There’s someone I want you to meet, that’s all,” he said just as casually. Although he didn’t feel casual. He felt as though he was playing God. A highly uncomfortable role and not one he aspired to.

“But who?”

“You’ll see.” He swung into the parking lot of the Hart Inn, where, so one of the investigators had informed him earlier today, Karyn had made a dinner reservation. Turning to face Fiona, he said, “Just keep an open mind, that’s all. Promise?”

“
Very
mysterious.” She gave him her sweet smile. “You know I’d promise you anything.”

When he led Fiona into the dining room, Rafe saw Karyn immediately. His heart gave a great thud in his chest. Schooling his features to immobility, he took Fiona by the hand and threaded through the tables. Karyn was reading the menu. Then, as though she felt the pull of his gaze, she looked up, dropped the menu on the cloth and gaped at him. “Rafe?” she croaked.

He said easily, “I’ve brought someone to meet you,” and stood aside so Karyn could see Fiona.

Shaken to the core, Karyn felt the color drain from her cheeks. Enough of a shock to see Rafe. But to discover in the space of seconds that he was accompanied by Fiona…she gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles
white with strain, and said raggedly, “Hello…won’t you both sit down?”

Fiona sank into the nearest chair, her eyes glued to Karyn’s face. “I’d heard gossip in the village about a woman who resembled me,” she said dazedly. “We’re the image of each other—it’s amazing!” She turned to Rafe. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Karyn’s brain stumbled into action. So Fiona didn’t know who she was. Rafe hadn’t told her.

To her infinite relief the waiter appeared on the scene. “Will the gentleman and the lady be joining you, madam?”

“Er—yes,” Karyn faltered. “At least, I hope so.”

“I wouldn’t leave for worlds,” Fiona said, smiling at the waiter as he put two more menus on the table. When he’d gone, she turned that smile on Karyn. “You must tell me who you are—I don’t even know your name.”

One step at a time. “Karyn Marshall. My home’s in Prince Edward Island on the east coast of Canada.”

“We can’t possibly be related then,” Fiona said. “Yet we could be sisters, we look so much alike.”

In desperation Karyn sent Rafe a hunted look. He was sitting across from her, the light from the window delineating his strongly carved features. But not penetrating his eyes, she thought with an inward shiver. They were like rooms locked against her. He said flatly, “Fiona, I want you to listen to me. Remember what I said in the car, about keeping an open mind?”

Fiona’s smile faded. “I don’t understand…”

“There’s no easy way to tell you. You and Karyn—you look alike because you
are
sisters. Twin sisters.”

As Karyn’s jaw dropped that he could admit to a truth he’d so bitterly denied, Fiona frowned in puzzlement. “How can we be?” she said. “That’s impossible.”

“You were adopted,” Rafe said bluntly. “You and
Karyn have the same birth mother. Douglas and Clarissa didn’t tell you they’d adopted you, and Karyn didn’t find out she’d been adopted until recently, after her mother died. That’s why she came here—to find you.”

There, he thought. He’d done it. He’d altered, irrevocably and in a few words, the lives of several people.

“Adopted? You’re saying I’m
adopted?”

“That’s right,” Rafe said steadily, taking her hand in his and raising it to his cheek in a gesture that seemed to Karyn, distraught though she was, more like comfort between friends than intimacy between lovers. She shoved the thought away, concentrating on what Rafe was saying. “I know this is a huge shock to you, Fiona. But I didn’t feel I could keep the truth from you, or rob you of your sister’s presence in your life.”

Tears flooded Karyn’s eyes; she blinked them back as Rafe went on, “All these years your parents have kept you from knowing the truth. And I have to be honest—when I first talked to Karyn, I didn’t believe her story any more than your father did.”

Fiona looked straight at Karyn. “You’ve met my father?”

“He came to see me at the inn in Droverton, yes.”

Rafe said grimly, “He warned Karyn off. Told her to vanish and threatened her with severe repercussions if she didn’t. Regrettably, I did the same thing.”

Fiona was sitting like a woman stunned. Karyn whispered, “Rafe, whatever made you change your mind?”

“I had you investigated, and found out that every word you’d said was true.”

As she winced, Fiona cried, “It can’t be true! My parents wouldn’t have deceived me—keeping me in the dark about my real roots. They couldn’t be so cruel!”

Rafe grimaced. Still gripping her hand in his, he said
gently, “I’m afraid they did keep the truth from you. Maybe from the best of motives, who knows?”

She was glaring at him almost as though she hated him; then transferred that glare to Karyn. “I don’t believe a word you’ve said to me, either one of you. If this is your idea of a joke, Rafe, I don’t think it’s remotely funny. I’m not—”

“Fiona, hiding your head in the sand—”

“I’m not sitting here listening to the two of you lie about my parents!” She shot Karyn a furious glance. “As far as I’m concerned you can go back to Canada on the first plane and stay there. I never want to see you again!”

She thrust her chair back, surged to her feet and hurried off between the tables. The conversation in their vicinity, which had dropped to a fascinated hush, hurriedly picked up.

“Hell and damnation,” Rafe muttered. Then he, too, got to his feet. Without so much as a backward glance at Karyn, he followed Fiona out of the dining room.

Like magic, the waiter reappeared. “Is there a problem, madam?” he said politely.

Oh, no, Karyn thought hysterically, no problem. I’ve just been responsible for wrecking my sister’s peace of mind and destroying all her illusions, that’s all. “I’ll be dining alone after all,” she said. “Would you bring me a carafe of your house wine, please?”

“Certainly, madam.”

He disappeared. Karyn stared out the window at the pretty garden that edged the river, while pain, dismay and, undeniably, gratitude battled for supremacy in her breast. Rafe had done his best to bring her and Fiona together; for that, she was truly thankful. However, despite his efforts, Fiona had repudiated her; and how that hurt.

The waiter poured her a glass of wine. She took the first sip, still gazing out at the peaceful scene on the other side
of the glass. There was another layer to her pain. Seeing Rafe and Fiona together had also hurt. Hurt horribly, in a way she couldn’t possibly justify. Naturally, Rafe had gone after Fiona rather than staying and comforting herself. His allegiance was to Fiona: they were lovers. What right did she, Karyn, have to be hurt?

Yet had she entirely misread their body language? Not once had she gained any sense of sexual intimacy between them, of the small, significant signals that bespeak the privacy of the bedroom and the sharing of a mutual passion.

Or was she fooling herself? Maybe she didn’t want to see those signals.

Because she was jealous? Karyn took another sip of wine, briefly closing her eyes. It would have been far better if she’d left Cumbria two days ago, after that one glimpse of Fiona riding her Arabian mare on the grassy slopes near Willowbend.

Better, too, never to have seen Rafe again.

R
IGHT
after breakfast the next day, Karyn set off on foot down the main street of Hart’s Run, a narrow, cobbled street lined with charming boutiques hung with baskets of fuchsias and geraniums. Yesterday she’d noticed a little wool shop there. When she was upset, knitting was very good therapy, although the results were unpredictable. She might be a dab hand at spaying cats, but she couldn’t knit for beans.

Her eyes were scratchy from lack of sleep and her limbs felt heavy. She’d stayed in her room all evening, hoping against hope that either Rafe or Fiona might get in touch; but the phone had remained distressingly silent. Once she’d bought the wool, she was going back to her room, phoning the airline and heading south. She wanted to go home, to the known and the familiar.

If she was running away, too bad.

In the wool shop Karyn found a delightful shade of pink mohair and a pattern that appealed to her. She left the shop and walked back toward the inn. It was raining, a fine, misty rain that fell softly on her face, gathering in drops on her cheeks like tears. But she wasn’t going to cry. Not for Rafe and not for Fiona. She was going home instead.

As she approached the bed and breakfast, a green sports car drew up alongside her. To her utter consternation Rafe got out, followed by Fiona. The bag of wool slipped from her fingers and plopped into a puddle.

Rafe bent down and fished it out of the puddle. “Good
thing someone invented plastic bags,” he said with a crooked grin.

Quite rationally, Karen decided to lose her temper. In a gush of adrenaline she grabbed for the bag. “Thank you,” she snapped insincerely. “Now why don’t the two of you get lost? You’ll be delighted to know I’m getting on the first available flight home and neither one of you will ever see me again. Rafe, give me the damned wool!”

He shook droplets of dirty water from the bag and passed it to her, his fingers lingering briefly on hers. “Fiona has something to say to you.”

The touch of his lean fingers had surged through Karyn’s body like a river in full spate. It did nothing to calm her. “I’m not having a conversation with either one of you in the middle of the sidewalk. Or anywhere else. Too much was said last night and as far as I’m concerned, that’s it.”

Fiona grabbed her by the wrist. “Don’t go! Please, Karyn, don’t go…”

Karyn
…To hear her own name in her sister’s voice brought sudden tears to Karyn’s eyes. She brushed them away. “Fiona, I can’t take any more of this, don’t you see? If you don’t believe a word I—”

“Rafe told me all about you on the way home yesterday. How you really were my sister and what he’d found out about you in the investigation.”

“He had no right to—”

“But I had to see my parents before I could take it all in. I had a terrible fight with them last night. I asked them if I was adopted and told them I’d met you. They denied everything, they yelled and screamed at me, it was awful. You were an imposter, they said, I wasn’t ever to see you again. They went on and on until I thought I’d be sick.” She shuddered. “They were so upset, so adamant, that I knew they were lying. I just knew it. So I went over to
Rafe’s first thing this morning and begged him to help me find you again.”

“Oh,” said Karyn.

“I don’t blame you for being angry,” Fiona whispered.

“I’m not angry anymore,” Karyn said truthfully, pushing down a wild hope that frightened her with its intensity.

“You see, I love animals, too. You’re a vet and I volunteer at the local animal shelter—that’s the only thing that’s ever made me defy my parents. Can you sing?”

Karyn blinked. “Not a note.”

“Can you paint or sculpt?”

“Nope. Hopeless.” Karyn indicated the bag of wool. “Can’t knit, either. Although I keep trying.”

“Neither can I.” Fiona gave her a watery smile. “We’re very much alike—and I don’t just mean looks. We really are twins!”

“You won’t change your mind?” Karyn faltered.

“Oh, no. I know you’re my sister.” Impetuously Fiona flung her arms around Karyn. “Oh, Karyn,” she sobbed, “I have a twin, I’m not alone anymore. I’m so happy, I can’t tell you how happy I am—why am I crying?”

Tears were streaming down Karyn’s face, too. She hugged Fiona as hard as she could, and within her the terrible loneliness that had been the legacy of her mother’s death eased for the first time. “I’m happy, too,” she mumbled. “I’m so glad we’ve found each other.”

More moved than he cared to admit, Rafe looked away. Such emotion was private, even though he was the one who’d brought it about.

How could he possibly regret what he’d done? Yet his whole body was filled with foreboding. From now on, Karyn would—inevitably—become part of his life.

Fiona had been astonishingly brave to have withstood the combined rage of Douglas and Clarissa last night. She’d
need his support on the home front more than ever now. As a friend, certainly; although if she could claim him as her fiancé, that would give her a lot more clout. He winced inwardly, because as he watched the two sisters locked in each other’s arms, it was to Karyn that his gaze was drawn.

When Karyn and Fiona eventually disentangled themselves, scrubbing at their wet cheeks, he said curtly, “You know, it might be as well if you both had DNA tests. That way you can show your parents irrefutable proof, Fiona. It could help get them off your back.”

“Good idea,” Karyn said warmly.

Fiona gaped at her. “You mean you would?”

“Of course.” Karyn spoke the simple truth. “I’d do anything for you, Fiona.”

More tears spilled from Fiona’s spectacular blue eyes. Which were, Karyn thought wryly, just like her own. She added, “We’ll do it today, if you like.”

“Why not?” Fiona said recklessly. She gave Karyn the full benefit of her smile. “I never knew I could be this brave. I actually yelled at my mother, can you believe it?”

“I’d love to have been a fly on the wall,” Rafe said.

“For once, I didn’t need you there—I managed fine on my own,” Fiona said. “Although I’m sure I’ll need your help when I go home today. Mother will have had time to replenish her arsenal, and as for Dad—” She gave a small shudder.

“I’ll look after your father,” Rafe announced.

Fiona looked back at Karyn. “If you can become a vet, I can do five days a week at the shelter.”

Karyn laughed. “If you can stand up to your parents, I can ask for a raise when I get home.”

“If you can ask for a raise, I can be late for dinner.”

They laced their arms together, giggling like two little girls. Rafe said dryly, “I’m not sure the world’s ready for
you two. Let’s go find some good strong coffee, how about it?”

Karyn stood tall, knowing there was something she had to say. Her blue eyes steady, she said quietly, “Rafe, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done. If it hadn’t been for you, Fiona and I would never have found each other.”

A lump in his throat, Rafe said huskily, “My pleasure.”

“It’s true,” Fiona quavered, and threw herself into his arms. “Thank you, thank you. I owe you so much already, and now this as well…you’re so good to me, Rafe.”

Karyn’s nails dug into her palms as Rafe’s arms went around Fiona’s waist; although again she had that illusory sense that the embrace was compounded more of companionship and gratitude than anything as basic as sex. But what did it matter? Either way, Fiona was in Rafe’s arms, where she belonged. Where Karyn never would. She looked away, her happiness stabbed by a shaft of pain so strong it appalled her. In a flash the implications of the last few minutes passed before her eyes. Rafe would be a part of her life from now on. Her sister’s lover. Maybe even her sister’s husband. Always there. Always out of reach.

So what, she thought fiercely. Rafe was nothing to her. Nothing. Nor was she going to allow him to ruin her new-found joy. Instead she should be happy for Fiona that she had such a strong protector in Rafe.

Steeling herself, she watched as Rafe’s hold loosened and Fiona stepped back. She
was
happy for Fiona. Of course she was.

Half an hour later, sitting at a table that overlooked a small mist-wreathed lake, Karyn’s resolve to be happy was severely tested. As they drank pungent Colombian coffee accompanied by sinfully rich pastries, Fiona said artlessly, “Where do we go from here? Literally, I mean.”

“Not to the inn in Droverton,” Karyn said. “I royally insulted the landlord before I left.”

“I can’t expose you to my parents right now,” Fiona said. “Even if they’d agree to have you at Willowbend, which I doubt.”

“Easy,” Rafe drawled. “The two of you can stay at Stoneriggs.”

“Wonderful!” Fiona exclaimed.

“No way,” Karyn gasped.

“You can have adjoining rooms in the east wing. Lots of horses to ride, Karyn, if that interests you.”

She loved to ride. “I scarcely know you, Rafe. I couldn’t possibly come and stay with you.” Expose herself to Rafe and Fiona’s love affair at close hand? Every nerve in her body screamed revolt.

“I could stable Sasha at Stoneriggs,” Fiona said eagerly. “Can you ride, Karyn?”

“Yes,” Karyn said grudgingly. “But—”

“Then that’s settled,” Fiona said. “If we went right now, I could collect Sasha and we could ride after lunch. We can swim in the pool every day, too. Oh, Karyn, it’ll be such fun!”

Karyn bit her lip. Short of stamping her feet and throwing a tantrum, she was trapped. “Just as long as you know I’ll have to go home in a few days,” she said.

“All the more reason to enjoy today,” Fiona said, and drained her coffee.

Stoneriggs, close up, took Karyn’s breath away. The house, its stonework dampened by mist, was so imposing, so exquisitely proportioned; the informal gardens such a riot of color and scent. The pool, the tennis courts, the moss-green lawns, all surrounded by the wildness of the
fells: overwhelmed, she said softly, “It’s incredibly beautiful, Rafe.”

“The favorite of all my houses,” he said casually. “I’m here whenever I can be.”

Because of the house? Or because of Fiona? Quelling a shaft of pain, Karyn said, “I can see why.”

He then took them on a tour of the stables, where Karyn was reduced to an entranced silence. She walked into stall after stall, rubbing flanks glossy with health, murmuring endearments to each and every thoroughbred: mare, stallion and gelding; bay, chestnut and palomino. Wistfully she said, “You’ve got the horses in Heddingley beat by a country mile.”

“Fiona will help you pick your mount,” Rafe replied, his eyes trained on her enchanted face. “Why don’t we go inside so you can change? Then I’ll drive Fiona over to Willowbend to get Sasha.”

So he could be alone with Fiona for a few minutes. Karyn said brightly, “That sounds like a great idea.”

Inside, Rafe had opted for simplicity of décor. Off-white paint, the clean lines of Finnish and Swedish furniture, and polished oak parquet scattered with richly hued Persian carpets that even to Karyn’s uneducated eye screamed money. The few pieces of art had obviously been chosen with great care.

Of all this, Fiona would be mistress.

Feeling suddenly exhausted, craving solitude, she gripped the banister as she climbed the long curve of staircase to the second floor. Rafe said sharply, “Are you all right, Karyn?”

Hating him for seeing too much, she muttered, “Too much emotion, I guess.”

Fiona put an arm around her sister. “Why don’t you lie down for a few minutes? Rafe and I will take our time…it
doesn’t matter if we don’t go riding until later. The mist’s supposed to clear sometime this afternoon.”

So within minutes Karyn was alone in her bedroom. As Rafe closed the door, her shoulders sagged with relief. She hadn’t anticipated the degree of strain it would cause her to be in his presence, on his home territory. Yet Stoneriggs was the logical place for her to stay.

She must make the best of it. Focus on Fiona, not Rafe.

Her bedroom was painted a soft apricot, with a thickpiled cream-colored carpet, silk draperies and delicate floral prints on the walls. The tall windows overlooked the rose garden; a frilly bouquet of peonies had been placed by the big bed. In which, of course, she would sleep alone.

Where would Fiona sleep? Next door? Or with Rafe?

Don’t go there, she scolded herself, throwing her jodphurs and shirt on the pretty armchair. Then she fell onto the bed and within moments was asleep.

A sleep that twelve hours later Karyn regretted.

It was now midnight. The mist had cleared; stars jittered in the sky and her body ached with tiredness. She and Fiona had had a wonderful ride among the crags of the moor; they’d swum in the pool, eaten gourmet French cuisine in the informal dining room that led onto a stone patio, and picked armloads of roses and honeysuckle for the lounge that they shared on the second floor. They’d laughed a lot and talked. Talked endlessly, trying to catch up on twenty-six lost years.

Every moment they spent together confirmed the unconscious bonds of twinship and their growing ease with each other, and for this Karyn was deeply grateful. She was also grateful for Rafe’s tact: most of the day he’d absented himself, as though he realized how important it was that the two sisters be alone to explore their new relationship.

And now she couldn’t go to sleep. Restlessly Karyn
roamed up and down, her feet sinking into the carpet. Through the wall she could hear the small sounds of Fiona having a shower, then moving around her bedroom. A few moments later something dropped on the bathroom tiles. Karyn’s nerves fluttered. She stopped dead beside her bed, her ears straining. Wasn’t that the opening and closing of a door?

Feeling like a spy, yet unable to help herself, Karyn waited a few seconds, then very softly opened her own door. Fiona, in a long blue gown, was gliding down the hall. As Karyn watched, she turned the corner and disappeared.

Swiftly Karyn retreated. Why, oh why, couldn’t she have fallen asleep at eleven, when she and Fiona had said an emotional good-night out in the hallway? But no, she’d had to stay awake, and be given incontrovertible proof that Fiona and Rafe were lovers. No matter that their body language said otherwise. No matter that Rafe desired her, Karyn. Fiona was even now in Rafe’s bedroom, in his arms.