Louise Fuller - Vows Made in Secret

‘Except when you’re living in a castle,’ she said shakily.

His gaze held hers. ‘You’re going off topic, pireni . It doesn’t matter where I lived then or where I live now. We’re still married. I’m still your husband. And you’re my wife.’

She felt a stab of shock—both at the vehemence in his voice and at the sudden spread of treacherous heat at his possessive words.

Turning her head, she swallowed. ‘What happened in that trailer wasn’t a wedding, Laszlo. There were no guests. No vicar. No witnesses. We didn’t give each other rings. We didn’t even sign anything. It wasn’t a wedding at all and I’m not your wife.’

Laszlo forced himself to stay calm. He had too much pride to let her see that her horrified denial had reopened a wound that had never fully healed—a wound that had left him hollowed out with misery and humiliation.

Shaking his head, he gave a humourless laugh. ‘Oh, believe me, pireni , I wish you weren’t—but you are.’ His fingers curled into the palms of his hands. ‘In my culture a wedding is a private affair between a man and wife. We don’t register the marriage, and the only authority that’s needed for it to be recognised is the consent of the bride and groom.’

Prudence felt a vertigo-like flash of fear. She shook her head. ‘We’re not married,’ she croaked. ‘Not in the eyes of the law.’

The change in him was almost imperceptible. She might even have missed the slight rigidity about his jawline had the contempt in his eyes not seared her skin.

‘Not your law, maybe.’ He felt a hot, overpowering rage. ‘But in mine. Yes, we were married—and we still are.’

Closing her eyes, she felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of panic. Laszlo clearly believed what he was saying. Whilst she might have viewed the ceremony as a curious but charming dress rehearsal for the vintage-style white wedding she’d been planning, the marriage had been real to him. Nausea gripped her stomach. What did it really matter if there was no certificate? It didn’t mean that the vows they’d made were any less valid or binding.

Heat scorched her skin. What had she done? She looked up and his gaze held hers, and she saw that he was furious, fighting for control.

‘Laszlo, I didn’t—’

His voice was barely audible but it scythed through her words and on through her skin and bone, slicing into her heart.

‘This conversation is over. I’m sorry you had a wasted trip but your services are no longer required.’

Prudence looked at him in confusion, her face bleached of colour. ‘I—I don’t understand...’ she stammered. ‘What do you mean?’

Laszlo rounded on her coldly. ‘What do I mean ?’ he echoed. ‘I mean that you’re fired—dismissed, sacked. Your contract is terminated and this meeting is over. As of this moment I never want to see your face again.’ He turned back towards the fire. ‘So why don’t you take your bags, turn around and get out of my house? Now. ’

CHAPTER THREE

PRUDENCE FELT THE floor tilt towards her. She reached out and steadied herself against the back of an armchair. ‘You can’t do that,’ she said slowly. ‘You can’t just fire me.’

‘Oh, but I can.’

Laszlo turned and looked at her, full in the face, and a shudder raced through her as she saw to her horror that he meant it.

‘But that’s so unfair!’ Her voice seemed to echo around the room and she gazed at him helplessly.

‘I don’t care.’

He spoke flatly, his jaw tightening, and with a spasm of pain she knew that he didn’t. Knew too that it wouldn’t matter what she said or did and that it had probably never mattered. She had lost the job the moment Laszlo walked into the room. She just hadn’t realised that fact until now.

She stared at him, shock and disbelief choking her words of objection. But inside her head there was a deafening cacophony of protest. He couldn’t fire her. What would she tell Edmund? And what about their debts to the bank and the insurance company?

‘No.’

The word burst from her lips like a flying spear. Laszlo stared at her calmly. Firing her seemed to have lanced his fury and he seemed more puzzled than angry at her outburst.

‘No?’ he murmured softly. ‘No, what?’

She glared at him, her cheeks flooding with angry colour. ‘No, I won’t leave. I know I made a mistake, but it all happened years ago—and anyway you can’t fire me for that. Apart from anything else it’s got nothing to do with my ability to do this job.’

‘It’s got everything to do with your ability to do this job,’ Laszlo said coldly. ‘You lack conviction and loyalty and I don’t employ people without those qualities.’

Prudence sucked in a breath, hating him more than she had ever hated him before. ‘Stop it!’ she hissed. He was so self-righteous and hypocritical. How dare he act as if he had the moral high ground? He’d lied to her. And he was the one who’d broken the law and been arrested for who knew what! Perhaps he should examine his own failings first instead of focusing on hers.

She opened her mouth to tell him so and then closed it again. There was so much history in this room already. Why add more? She breathed out slowly.

‘Stop sitting in judgement on me! You’re not some innocent victim here, Laszlo. You lied. Maybe that doesn’t matter to you, but it does to me.’ She stopped, her breathing ragged. ‘Only I’m not using it to get at you. I wouldn’t stoop that low.’

Laszlo looked at her for one long, agonising moment.

‘Really?’ he said coolly. ‘I wonder...’ He ran his hand over the dark stubble grazing his chin. ‘Just how badly do you want this job, Prudence? Are you prepared to beg for it?’

She felt nausea clutch at her stomach. ‘You’re a monster!’ His eyes were cold and implacable.

‘This is payback! Firing you makes us quits, pireni ! And, believe me, you’ve got off lightly. If there were still wolves in Hungary I’d throw you to them. So if I were you I’d walk out of here while you still can.’

Prudence stared at him, her chest blazing with anger. ‘What does that mean? Are you threatening me?’ she asked tightly.

Laszlo stared at her in silence, his eyes glittering with mockery. ‘Threatening you? Of course not. But this discussion is over, so I think you should accept that and walk away.’ His jaw tightened. ‘That shouldn’t be a problem for you. After all, you’ve had lots of practice.’

Anger swept through her. ‘Oh, you think you’re so clever, don’t you? Well, let’s get one thing clear. This discussion is not over.’

He gazed at her impassively in silence. Finally he said, almost mildly, ‘Then I suppose you’d better start talking. Although I’m not quite sure what difference you think it will make.’

She stared at him in confusion. How did he do that? Only moments earlier his anger had been incandescent beneath his skin. Now he was prepared to grant her an audience. It was impossible to keep up with him. She gritted her teeth. But hadn’t it always been this way between them, though? With her trying to chase the moods which ran like quicksilver through his veins?

She lifted her chin. But the blood was humming in her ears and she felt suddenly hot and stupid in the face of his cool composure. Was she just expected to somehow plead her case while he stood there like some hanging judge? Fixing her gaze on the wall behind him, she swallowed.

‘I admit I made mistakes back then. But you’re punishing me for them now . How is that reasonable or fair?’ She paused and heat burnt her cheeks as he stared at her. For a moment his eyes fixed on her, as though her words had meant something to him, and then he shook his head slowly.

‘Fair?’ he echoed. ‘ Fair! Since when did you care about fairness? You dumped me because you didn’t want to live in some tatty trailer.’ His eyes hardened. He, on the other hand, would have been content to sleep under the stars if she was with him. Shaking his head, he gave a humourless laugh. ‘How was that fair to me?’

Blood colouring her cheeks and collarbone, Prudence flinched, his bitterness driving the breath from her lungs. It was true—she had said words to that effect—but she hadn’t meant them, and whatever Laszlo might think, she’d been so madly in love then that she would have lived in a ditch with him if he’d asked.

All she’d wanted was for him to repudiate her fears that he’d lost interest in her or, worse, found someone else. Only he’d been so dismissive. And bored. As if she was a nagging child. So it had been impossible to tell him the truth, for that would have meant revealing the depth of her love. She’d been too upset to do that, but just angry enough to want to provoke him and hurt him for not loving her. And so instead she’d lashed out at him about the mess and the cold and the rain.

Prudence felt a trickle of misery run down her spine, but then, almost in the same moment, she shook her head, anger filling her. He was taking what she’d said out of context and—surprise, surprise—ignoring the part he’d played.

Damn it! Unlike her, he’d actually thought they were married! So why hadn’t he done more to make it work between them? Did he think that relationships just sustained themselves? A lump formed in her throat. It certainly seemed that way. She’d gone to him for reassurance but he’d left her no choice but to walk away, and it had been the hardest choice she had ever made. Even talking about it now made her heart swell with grief.

She lifted her chin. ‘We’re not going to go there, Laszlo. I am not going to talk about the past with you any more.’ Heart thumping, she took a breath. ‘If you wanted to discuss our relationship you should have done so at the time. Frankly, now it’s irrelevant.’

Her grip tightened on the chair as he stepped towards her. She felt her stomach swoop. Close up, his beauty was radiant and piercing—like a flaming arrow. His eyes were more golden, his skin smoother, the angles and shading of his cheekbones almost too perfect to be real.

‘I don’t agree. I think it’s entirely relevant, given that you have brought our past back into my life.’

Her mouth trembled. ‘That’s not true, Laszlo. It was you who contacted Seymour’s.’

She stared at him indignantly. If he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her then why had he chosen to use her uncle’s firm? Only of course he didn’t know it was Edmund’s business. He didn’t even know her uncle’s name, let alone what he did for a living. She shivered. Somehow now didn’t seem like the best time to tell him.

Trying to ignore the pounding of her heart, she swallowed. ‘I know how you hate being responsible for anything, but this is your mess.’

‘And we both know how you hate mess, Prudence,’ he said smoothly.

‘I didn’t care about the stupid trailer!’ she snapped, her temper rising. ‘You just focused on that and wouldn’t listen to me. It wasn’t a criticism of you, or your precious Willerby Westmorland! It’s just who I am.’ Her heart was thumping so hard it hurt. ‘I don’t like mess. I like things tidy and in order and that’s why I’m good at my job. Maybe if you’d thought about that instead of sneering at me—’

‘I’m not sneering, pireni .’ His face shifted, and meeting her angry gaze, he shrugged. ‘And you’re right. Maybe I did focus on that remark—’

He stopped and Prudence gaped at him speechlessly. Was that some kind of apology?