‘I was not making eyes at anyone,’ she exclaimed, struggling to fasten her seatbelt, and Matthew’s mouth twisted.
‘He didn’t get past you, though, did he?’ he taunted. ‘What did you say to him? Did you tell him I was mistreating you?’
‘No!’ Olivia glared at him. ‘As a matter of fact, he spoke to me! He asked if I was all right, that’s all.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’ Olivia found her own anger was dissipating in the face of Matthew’s obvious resentment. ‘What’s the matter?’ she demanded recklessly. ‘Are you jealous?’
He didn’t answer her. But then, she hadn’t really expected him to. So much for her hopes that she and Matthew might be able to salvage something from the wreck of their relationship, she thought wearily. All they seemed capable of doing was hurting one another. Well, he could hurt her, she appended. More than he knew, or would ever know.
Expelling a breath of air in an upward draught over her hot face, she unbuttoned the neck of her shirt. It seemed unseasonably hot for England, but then, she had just sprinted a hundred yards. It was lucky she was wearing low-heeled shoes. In high heels she’d never have made it.
Or would she? Would Matthew really have driven away and left her? Somehow, she doubted it. But perhaps she was being unduly optimistic. It was obvious he despised her—and what her incautious accusation had made him do.
Realising there was still at least another hour to go to their destination, Olivia decided to try again. After all, they could hardly arrive at her parents’ house not speaking to one another. Surely there was some way she could appeal to his common sense.
Moistening her lips, she said softly, ‘So—tell me about your wife. How long have you been married?’ And, the hardest question of all, ‘Do you have any children?’
She thought he wasn’t going to answer her. The silence between them stretched oppressively, and the heat of Olivia’s body wouldn’t subside. She told herself it was because the sun was shining, and the car was getting warm, but that wasn’t the reason. The truth was, her high temperature was self-induced, brought on by her awareness of the man behind the wheel.
And then, as she was casting about in her mind for something else to say, he said abruptly, ‘You were right, of course. I was jealous.’
It was the last thing she had expected him to say, and Olivia found it difficult to get her breath. ‘Matt——’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ he interrupted her swiftly, his tone self-denigrating. ‘I don’t intend to do anything about it. It’s just an aberration, and I’ll get over it. I did it before, and I can do it again. I just have to keep reminding myself what a little tramp you are.’
Olivia swallowed the instinctive desire to defend herself. It was probably safer to let Matthew believe what he liked about her. Being friendly with him wasn’t going to work. Not for him; not for her; probably not for anybody.
Pressing her trembling lips together, she held up her head. ‘So,’ she said, adopting a deliberately mild tone, ‘why don’t you tell me about your wife? Who is she? Do I know her?’
Matthew gave her a contemptuous look. ‘Why should I talk to you about my wife?’ he demanded. ‘You don’t have to humour me, Olivia. I won’t embarrass you in front of your parents, if that’s what you’re afraid of.’
Olivia sighed. ‘I’m not afraid of anything,’ she retorted heavily. ‘For heaven’s sake, Matt, I’m just trying to find some common ground between us. Something we can talk about, without ending up at one another’s throats——’
‘And do you imagine talking about my marriage will accomplish that?’ Matthew demanded scathingly. ‘I hardly think so. Still, Helen is nothing like you, I can tell you that.’
‘Helen?’ Olivia frowned. ‘Not—Helen Berrenger?’
‘No. Helen Ryan,’ said Matthew succinctly. ‘We’ve been married nearly ten years.’
‘You mean …’
But Olivia found she couldn’t go on. It was too painful. To think that he must have married Helen only months after they split up! It hurt. Helen Berrenger, she thought disbelievingly. Helen, who had always been more interested in horses than anything else. But eminently suitable, she couldn’t deny that. Her lineage went back almost as far as Matthew’s, and her father, Conrad Berrenger, owned a string of racehorses, as well as a generous portion of the county.
Her silence was noticeable, and eventually Matthew cast a glance in her direction. ‘Well?’ he demanded harshly. ‘What did you expect? An undying commitment?’
‘No!’ Olivia was defensive. ‘Of course not. But—Helen Berrenger!’
‘Why not?’ Matthew’s dark brows ascended. ‘I wasn’t about to make another mistake.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, Helen would never have done what you did,’ he retorted coldly. ‘She understands about things like—honour—and integrity.’
‘And I don’t, is that it?’ Olivia flared, using some of the hurt she was feeling to fuel her defence. ‘Oh, don’t tell me—it’s the old class system, isn’t it? My father is only one of your father’s tenants, so naturally I don’t have the right pedigree——’
‘Don’t you dare say that,’ Matthew overrode her angrily. ‘And don’t think you can assuage your own guilt by turning it on me. You know damn well there was never any question of your not being good enough for my family. Both my parents liked you, you know that. You were always made to feel at home at Rycroft. Hell, they were as shocked as I was when you walked out!’
‘Even so——’
‘Even so nothing. Any contempt they feel for you now is entirely justified. My God, my father actually wanted me to go after you. He offered to pay my fare, so I could try and persuade you to come back.’
Olivia swallowed. ‘But you didn’t.’
‘No, I didn’t.’ Matthew’s lips twisted. ‘I still had some pride. And besides, your grandmother told me your leaving wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. Apparently, you’d been planning it for some time.’
‘That’s not—oh!’
Olivia pressed a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from voicing the instinctive denial. What good would it do now to try and explain herself? How could she explain herself, without betraying the very people she had gone away to protect? It was ironic, really, that Matthew’s father should have wanted him to go after her. But then, he was as ignorant of his responsibilities as Matthew himself.
‘That’s not what?’ Matthew asked now, as the traffic thinned, and he was able to give her more of his attention. ‘The way it was? Well? How was it? You tell me. Tell me how you came to get that job with the Kramers, if you didn’t answer an advertisement?’ He grimaced. ‘An advertisement I knew nothing about.’
Olivia sighed. What was the point? she thought tiredly. She could have explained that her brother, Andrew, had met Stephen Kramer, when they were at school, and that, although Stephen was older, when his family had moved away to London the two of them had kept in touch, but she didn’t. It was probably better if Matthew continued to believe what her grandmother had told him. Although she might feel better if he stopped hating her, what would that really achieve?
‘All right,’ she said, twisting to stare out of the window. ‘I behaved badly. I admit it. But——’ her skin prickled ‘—as you and Helen got together so—quickly, I probably did you a favour.’