An Interrupted Marriage (Silhouette Special Edition) by Laurey Bright Page A

the road. “The thing is,” he said, “how long will you be around for? And I don’t want to put you under any stress.”
    “A bit of part-time secretarial work wouldn’t be particularly stressful,” Jade said, carefully ignoring the first part of his speech. “I can’t sit about twiddling my thumbs all day. And it would make me feel better about living on your money.”
    He cast her a frowning glance. “You more than earned it in the year after we were married, acting as nurse, nanny, housekeeper....”
    And wife, she added silently. It hadn’t been an easy start to marriage, but she’d thought they would weather it, that their love would keep her strong. She’d been wrong. Magnus, trying to save the family farms while continuing to run his own business, providing for his family and worried sick about both his mother and his sister, had less and less time or emotional energy to spare for his wife. But it wasn’t he who had finally cracked under the strain.
    “You don’t owe me anything,” she said.
    He flicked another glance at her as though he wanted to say something, and then had changed his mind. After a while he said, “We’ll go to the bank first, and I’ll transfer some money into your account. Will you need cash for the hairdresser?”
    “I think I have enough for that,” she said.
    * * *
    In the event she had barely sufficient. She emptied her purse of notes and handed them over to the girl who had shampooed and cut her hair, then emerged to find Magnus waiting for her.
    “Very nice,” he said, examining the shortened style. It felt light and soft, and a conditioning treatment had given it a new sheen. “Where to now?”
    The hairdresser was on the main street. Many of the shops were built in colonial style with wide corrugated iron verandas shading the footpath. Some were refurbished old buildings, others new ones designed to reinforce the impression of a leftover corner of nineteenth-century New Zealand. Although the town was quite small, it seemed very busy, the road noisy with traffic.
    Her ears jangling, Jade said, “You’ve done your mother’s messages?”
    “Yes. You wanted clothes, you said.”
    She hesitated, embarrassed. “I’m not sure how to pay for them.”
    “I told you I’d put some money in your account. And here’s your cheque-book.” He took it from his pocket and handed it to her. “They said it’s okay to use it even though the account has been inactive for so long.”
    “Thank you.” She stood holding it. “What are you going to do?”
    “I’ve done all I need to. But there’s no hurry. We could make a time to meet at the car—unless you’d like me to come with you?”
    At the hairdresser’s, she’d had to try twice before she could blurt out that she had an appointment, and she was sure the girl at the counter had thought she was odd. “I’d like you to come,” she said.
    Magnus quickly hid his surprise. “Okay, if it’s what you prefer. We can use my credit card if you like.”
    “That isn’t why I asked you.”
    “I wasn’t saying that.” He paused, looking at her. “You have a lot to get used to again, don’t you?”
    Jade nodded, grateful that she didn’t need to explain.
    * * *
    Magnus unexpectedly took an active part in choosing the clothes.
    “I like this,” he told her, taking a sleeveless silk dress with a flowing skirt from a rack. “Do you?”
    “It’s lovely, but not what I’m looking for,” she answered. A textured linen oatmeal-coloured skirt over one arm, she pulled out another in colourful stripes, a smart red-and-white dress with a slim skirt, then one of soft grey green with large pockets and a gold-buckled belt. “I’ll try these on.”
    “What about this?” It was a full-skirted fuchsia cotton dress with tiny sleeves, the front demure but the back unexpectedly scooped.
    “I don’t think so,” she said.
    The shop assistant clipping tickets onto a pile of jackets on the counter said, “That’s been