Rachel gritted her teeth and looked from the confused face of her neighbour to Benedict. If she didn’t want to include half the neighbourhood in her troubles she didn’t have much choice.
‘I can manage, thank you,’ she said from between clenched teeth as she shrugged off the hand on her elbow which was much more to do with restraint than solicitude.
The door upstairs was still ajar and she ducked under Benedict’s arm as he held it open. ‘Thank you,’ she grated sarcastically. ‘God knows what he thinks now. He saw me go out with one man and come back with another!’ she fumed.
‘Worried about your reputation, Rachel? It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?’
‘I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it, because if you had…’ He gave a thin-lipped smile and his eyes glittered as he let his glance dwell on her face. ‘Shall we just say it saves me the bother of ruining his expensive dental work?’
‘If I decide to sleep with the entire English soccer team it’s nothing to do with you! Clean up your own act before you start interfering in mine.’
‘Are you trying to tell me it’s my debauched reputation that’s behind your decision to keep me in the dark?’ he enquired cynically.
‘What gives you the idea I’m even slightly interested in your reputation?’ she enquired scornfully.
‘I’m crushed,’ he remarked, looking anything but. ‘I’ve spent all my adult life polishing my depraved image. Is Charlie asleep?’ he asked, looking around the room.
Rachel nodded reluctantly; after her late night Charlie had gone out like a light.
‘She met Fauré?’ His eyes touched the large elaborate bouquet on the dining table and his lip curled contemptuously. ‘A little ostentatious,’ he commented, with a quirk of one dark brow.
‘They got on very well.’ She wasn’t about to tell him that Charlie’s approval of Christophe had contained a significant rider: ‘I don’t like him as much as Ben.’
‘You decided it was too complicated to cope with two fathers at the same time?’
‘You’re not my child’s father, Ben.’
‘Prospective father, if you’re going to be pedantic.’
‘I’m not pregnant, Ben.’
‘Can’t you do any better than that?’ His scorn was corrosive enough to strip metal. ‘Don’t treat me like a fool, Rachel.’
‘It’s the truth.’ What else could she say to convince him?
‘Did you enjoy single parenthood so much you want to go through it again? Or are you hoping Fauré will accept this child as his too? If you have any ideas along those lines, Rachel, drop them now.’
She embraced the anger; it was easier to cope with than impotence. ‘I shouldn’t really blame you for sounding like a tinpot dictator. I suppose your father has always spoken to your mother like that. But if you use that tone with me once more, so help me…’
For the first time she saw a flicker of amusement. Momentarily it lifted the sombre expression on his strikingly handsome face.
‘What’s the joke?’
‘After you’ve met my mother you’ll understand.’
‘I’m not going to meet your mother.’
His expression was the visual equivalent of a patronising pat on the head and she wanted to scream very badly. The only thing stopping her was the child sleeping in the next room.
‘I suppose you were relying on the fact that I’ll be leaving the country. You mistakenly thought that Dad would be on your side as he was so anxious to warn me off you. You miscalculated; one thing he feels passionate about is family!’
‘Oh, I know all about your father’s concern for his family. I’d say he’d go to any lengths to preserve it. Can you imagine your father as a cosy grandfather, Ben?’ Anyone would think he wanted to believe his father’s story.
‘This is about us, not my father.’ He pushed aside her dry observation impatiently.
‘Would that were true.’
‘He said you didn’t intend telling him. He said you were very depressed and you just blurted it out.’
“‘He said! He said!”’ she mimicked, wishing the unscrupulous old man were here so she could tell him exactly what she thought of him. ‘You’re not listening to me, are you? How could I be pregnant?’
If he paused long enough to think he’d see that it wasn’t possible. ‘I told you the first time it was safe and then we took precautions.’ She was annoyed that the reference made her flush like a schoolgirl, not a thirty-year-old mother. ‘Besides, it was only three weeks ago.’ The argument was pretty watertight, she thought, giving a relieved sigh. The relief proved premature, however, as she listened to Benedict proceeding to punch holes in her neat logic.