One Chance at Love

by Carole Mortimer

  Dizzy’s brows rose. ‘A poor-little-rich-girl too bored to play with her toys?’ she taunted.

  He turned to her slowly, frowning slightly. ‘Is that the way you see the painting?’

  Defiant colour burnt her cheeks. ‘Isn’t that exactly what it is?’ she challenged, her body held in a defensive stance.

  He slowly shook his head. ‘Not to me.’

  Dizzy shrugged. ‘I’m sure I read somewhere that the critics disliked this painting because it lacked emotion.’

  ‘It’s full of emotion,’ he contradicted impatiently. ‘Look at the eyes.’ He moved to stand just below the painting. ‘Can’t you see the suggestion of tears in their depths? Look at the mouth,’ he instructed again. ‘There’s vulnerability beneath the stubbornness. The title of it should tell you that it’s a painting of emotion. “Lost Child”,’ he supplied, as she raised her brows questioningly.

  She knew the title of the painting, had seen photographs of it, although never the original before. Zach was right, there were tears in the green eyes, and the mouth did look as if it trembled on the verge of tears.

  But it was all a sham. Her mother had never seen her like that, had already been out of her life for three years by the time she was seven. Oh, the child was definitely her, but she had never had a playroom like this one, and the emotions were purely her mother’s, a spoilt child of a woman who found herself in a marriage where she could have everything—like the child in the painting with her toys—except the freedom that lay beyond that window!

  Knollsley Hall had become like a prison to Valerie Sherman for the five years she was married to Martin Ellington-James, and by the time Dizzy was four she hadn’t been able to stand the restrictions being a politician’s wife put on her any longer. She had gone out shopping one day, and just not come back.

  Dizzy hadn’t been able to believe her mother’s desertion of her, had felt sure she was coming back one day. Her father told her he wouldn’t take her mother back, even if she came crawling to him on her knees, but, even so, Dizzy had hoped. She had never seen her mother again after that day, just after her fourth birthday.

  But she had seen photographs of this painting, had hated her mother anew for using her to depict her own emotions. Last night, Christi had told her that her uncle had the original of the painting, and although she hated the thought of it, Dizzy had always made a point of not running away from anything. But she couldn’t run away from the pain of disillusionment this painting evoked even if she had wanted to, it was something that was always with her, had shaped her into the woman she was today. The fact that Zach saw the pain inside the child in the painting only made it worse, as if he had once again pierced the shield she had over her emotions.

  ‘She doesn’t look very lost to me,’ Dizzy answered him in a hard voice. ‘Unless it’s among all those toys,’ she dismissed coldly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and see Christi.’ She couldn’t get out of the room, away from Zach, fast enough!

  ‘Dizzy?’ He stopped her at the door.

  She kept her gaze averted from the painting as she turned to look at him, knowing that although the books tempted her, she would probably never be able to return to this room during the rest of her stay here. ‘Yes?’ she prompted abruptly.

  He looked puzzled by her behaviour, and Dizzy was easily able to guess why. All this emotionalism wasn’t really in character with the woman who gave her body at a glance from soulful brown eyes! Well, damn him, she couldn’t be the clown when she felt as if her soul had been stripped bare!

  ‘If you still want to go into town today, I can have a car put at your disposal,’ he offered gruffly.

  She relaxed slightly. ‘Assuming I can drive, of course,’ she drawled.

  ‘I’m sure Christi would be only too happy to accompany you,’ he told her distantly.

  ‘I would have thought you would have wanted to keep her away from me as much as possible,’ she taunted.

  ‘Dizzy—’

  ‘Sorry.’ She held up her hands defensively, knowing she was being unfair, that his reactions had all been to the type of woman he was supposed to believe her to be, although if that were so it made some of his behaviour the night before a little difficult to explain! ‘I would appreciate the use of a car.’ Especially as that was why she had been going in search of Christi! ‘And I’ll invite Christi to go with me, if that’s all right with you.’

  Golden eyes widened. ‘Christi is an adult, completely capable of making her own decisions.’

  ‘Yes, but—’ She broke off awkwardly.

  Zach looked at her consideringly. ‘Yes?’

  She shrugged, realising how close she had come to ruining everything for Christi with the casual remark that she was hardly likely to want to upset her uncle in the circumstances. No doubt, if Zach knew she was aware of the conditions of Christi’s parents’ will, he would think her visit here now more than timely!

  ‘Christi and I were never that close,’ she dismissed. ‘And you’ve made it very clear you disapprove of me as a companion for her.’

  He stiffened. ‘As I said, Christi is an adult, capable of making her own decisions about people.’

  ‘OK,’ she shrugged. ‘I’ll ask her and see what she says.’

  ‘You do that,’ he invited tersely. ‘And eat some breakfast before you leave.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she returned impishly.

  He gave a rueful smile, looking years younger. ‘Please,’ he added drily. ‘I’m sorry we can’t accommodate you with pilchards, but…’

  Dizzy chuckled. ‘I think I’ll go and find Christi.’ She was still smiling as she left the room, Zach’s humour a pleasant surprise. Obviously the sternly disapproving expression was as deceptive of his real character as the ill-fitting clothes were of the body that lay beneath them. And with that thought she couldn’t help wondering if he would be skinny-dipping again this afternoon…

  * * *

  ‘Only you, Dizzy,’ Christi said affectionately, glancing indulgently at the back of the car, where Kate sat cuddling Melissa as if she would never let her go again. ‘Most people would have just bought her another doll, instead of driving out to get this one.’

  Dizzy shook her head, her gaze on the road ahead as she drove the station-wagon. ‘It wouldn’t have been the same.’

  ‘Obviously.’ Christi smiled at the ecstatic Kate before settling back into her seat. ‘But most people wouldn’t have cared.’

  ‘Don’t make me out to be some sort of heroine, Christi,’ she dismissed. ‘It will simply be quieter, and your uncle will get his dinner on time in future, now that Kate has her doll.’

  ‘This is Christi, Dizzy,’ she reminded gently. ‘And I know exactly how hard you aren’t!’

  She sighed, some of the tension leaving her body. ‘I saw the painting, Christi. It’s all right,’ she ruefully assured, as Christi glanced anxiously into the back of the car. ‘Kate’s fallen asleep. Apparently she was awake most of the night, crying for her doll.’ And, like the little angel she was, she had fallen into an exhausted sleep now that she had her beloved doll back.

  ‘Little love,’ Christi murmured indulgently before straightening in her seat, her face full of concern as she looked at Dizzy. ‘I thought you probably would have seen the painting by now, but I didn’t know how to bring the subject up,’ she grimaced.

  ‘You haven’t heard the worst of it,’ she frowned. ‘Your uncle walked in while I was looking at it.’

  ‘Oh, lord,’ Christi groaned. ‘Did he realise the little girl was you?’ Her eyes were wide.

  ‘She isn’t me,’ Dizzy grated with feeling. ‘She’s a figment of my mother’s—Valerie Sherman’s,’ she amended tightly, ‘imagination.’

  Christi gave her a sideways glance. ‘You’ve still made no effort to see her?’

  ‘Why should I want to see her?’ she dismissed coldly.

  Christi shrugged. ‘She is your mother.’

  ‘You know,’ Dizzy said thoughtfully, h
er eyes pained, ‘I think your uncle may be right about it sometimes being kinder to be cruel. I know I would have found it easier to understand—and accept—if my father had told me my mother had died and wasn’t coming back, rather than the truth, that she just couldn’t stand living with either of us any more!’ Even now, all these years later, she couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  ‘I’m sure that can’t be the way it happened, Dizzy—’

  ‘What other explanation do you give for her walking out and leaving me with the monster I called Father?’ she attacked, her hands tensely clutching the steering wheel, her gaze fixed firmly ahead.

  ‘None,’ Christi sighed defeatedly.

  ‘And to think the great British public go out at election time and vote for him in their thousands.’ Dizzy shook her head. ‘The wonder of it is, he’s actually good at being an MP; there’s even talk of him being successful when the leadership of the party comes up again.’

  ‘Maybe you should write one of those exposé books like all the other kids of famous… Maybe you shouldn’t!’ Christi backed down ruefully as Dizzy looked at her with raised brows. ‘As you say, he’s very capable when it comes to his job,’ she added hastily. ‘It’s just that at being a father he falls flat on his face!’

  Dizzy’s attention returned to the road. ‘Not every parent can love their child,’ she said flatly.

  ‘How can a father help but love a child like that?’ Christi looked affectionately at the sleeping Kate in the back of the car. ‘And you were much cuter as a little girl: lovely blonde curls, big green eyes, and freckles,’ she defended.

  Dizzy self-consciously touched the golden freckles that covered the bridge of her nose today. ‘Suffice it to say, my father found it impossible to love me,’ she dismissed without emotion. She didn’t know how it was possible to feel that way about your own child, either, especially when that child loved you so unquestioningly, but she had come to terms years ago with the fact that her father totally rejected her love.

  Christi leant her ebony head against the headrest. ‘I think that’s partly why I’m so particular when it comes to the man I’m going to marry,’ she remarked thoughtfully. ‘You really have to care about the same things, want the same things, or you just end up hurting people besides yourselves.’

  Dizzy gave her a smile of affection. ‘Maybe you should get your dates to fill out a questionnaire before you even consider going out with them!’

  ‘Or put an advertisement in a newspaper stating my own likes and dislikes, and the things I would like in the man I fall in love with,’ Christi laughed, easily falling in with the teasing, relieved that the tension of the conversation had passed.

  Dizzy’s eyes widened. ‘Can you do things like that? I thought it was only certain magazines that—well—’

  ‘Not those sort of things!’ Christi giggled. ‘And I’m sure there must be some respectable publication that could deal with it. Although,’ she frowned thoughtfully, ‘I can’t say I’ve ever seen one,’ she admitted disappointedly.

  Dizzy gave her friend a rueful smile. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to go to one of those dating agencies, where they feed all the relevant information into a computer, and—’

  ‘And come up with the man most compatible to you that they have on their files?’ Christi finished disgustedly. ‘Advertising in a magazine would be better,’ she said, having shaken her head. ‘It would reach a much wider audience. If you chose your publication wisely, of course.’

  ‘Playboy?’ Dizzy arched innocent brows.

  ‘Certainly not,’ her friend said indignantly. ‘Can you imagine the sort of replies you would get from an advertisement in there?’

  Laughter glowed in Dizzy’s eyes. ‘Might be interesting to find out,’ she said mischievously.

  ‘Wouldn’t it just?’ Christi agreed with anticipation. ‘Seriously, though, Dizzy—’

  ‘I’ve always had an aversion to conversations that begin, “seriously, Dizzy”,’ she winced.

  Christi gave her a chiding look. ‘You won’t sidetrack me with your flippancy,’ she warned. ‘Your friends, all of us, are worried about you. I mean, talk about the sublime to the ridiculous!’ she added ruefully, ‘I have too many boyfriends, and you steer clear of having any!’

  Ordinarily, Dizzy would have been able to fence off this conversation with comments like she ‘had yet to find a man that interested her to that extreme’, or she ‘was perfectly happy with her life the way that it was’. But since coming to Castle Haven she wasn’t sure either of those comments was true any more. She found Zach Bennett not only interesting but exciting, physically and mentally, and with that awareness had come a certain dissatisfaction with the emptiness of her life. Because she wasn’t comfortable with any of those emotions, she kept putting off thinking about them, which was a little difficult when she was seeing so much of Zach.

  She smiled brightly as she saw Christi watching her curiously, hoping to divert her friend’s attention, but knowing she had failed when Christi turned in her seat determinedly.

  ‘Or are you still?’ she pounced. ‘Tell me, Dizzy, is there someone in London?’

  ‘No,’ she answered with some relief.

  ‘New York?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Toronto?’ Christi persisted.

  ‘No,’ she laughed.

  Her friend’s mouth set stubbornly. ‘Anywhere?’ she said desperately.

  She hesitated only briefly over the fourth denial, but she could see by the speculative gleam in Christi’s eyes that she had noticed it—and was relishing it! ‘It’s nothing serious, Christi—’

  ‘Just having you admit to being interested in someone is serious,’ Christi refuted. ‘Who is he? What does he do? Are you—’

  ‘Enough,’ Dizzy cut in laughingly. ‘It really isn’t anything,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘I’ve only noticed him. It certainly hasn’t been reciprocated, in that way, at least,’ she added ruefully, remembering just how Zach was being led to think about her!

  ‘Oh,’ Christi looked disappointed. ‘Although the fact that you have noticed him is something.’ She brightened a little. ‘It’s all right having all these godchildren, Dizzy,’ she reproved. ‘But you need children of your own.’

  ‘I’ve barely noticed the man, and you have me married off with children!’ she spluttered indignantly. ‘Remind me never to confide in you again,’ she said disgustedly. ‘When you manage to find Mr Right, maybe I’ll start thinking about it. In the meantime, concentrate on your own lovelife,’ she advised firmly.

  ‘Spoilsport!’ Christi pouted.

  She couldn’t help smiling. ‘Remember, once you fall in love, I’ll start thinking about it,’ she teased softly.

  ‘You make me sound so fickle,’ Christi sulked. ‘There’s a man out there for me somewhere, I just have to go out and find him. Once this inheritance nonsense is out of the way, and my career is firmly established, I’m going to do just that!’ she announced defiantly.

  Dizzy grinned. ‘That gives me at least a couple of years, then!’

  ‘Very funny,’ her friend derided with sarcasm. ‘You never know, I could finish Drama School and walk straight out into a wonderful part that gives me instant stardom!’

  ‘I hope you do, love,’ Dizzy told her with quiet sincerity. ‘I know how hard you’ve worked for it, how difficult it was to make the change into acting in the first place.’

  ‘Mummy and Daddy would have been proud of me,’ Christi said quietly.

  They would have, too. Michael and Diana Bennett had believed that life was to be lived the way you wanted it to be, not the way society decided it should. Having spent more of her formative years with the happy couple than with her own father, she had quickly come to learn that their philosopy on life was a true one: be true to yourself and others. Michael and Diana would have been pleased that Christi was doing what she really felt was right for her.

  ‘Let’s not get maudlin,’ Christi announced into the sudde
n silence that had fallen over the car, as they both indulged in affectionate memories of her parents. ‘Kate has her doll back, you have a secret love—’

  ‘He isn’t secret—’ She broke off her indignant denial as she saw the teasing in Christi’s eyes. ‘Remind me never to play poker with you,’ she muttered ruefully.

  ‘I don’t happen to know any illegal gambling clubs,’ Christi announced innocently.

  ‘You introduced me to Jason in the first place,’ Dizzy reminded her indignantly.

  ‘He never took me to illegal gambling clubs. Come to think of it,’ she frowned, ‘why didn’t he?’

  ‘Probably because he knows you can’t keep a secret,’ Dizzy teased.

  ‘You would be surprised,’ her friend announced haughtily.

  She gave her an indulgent smile. ‘I would?’

  ‘Yes.’ Christi turned to her eagerly. ‘There’s something about—’ She broke off as she saw Dizzy’s teasing expression. ‘You tricked me!’ she accused.

  Dizzy laughed softly. ‘Only a little.’

  ‘Well, don’t,’ her friend complained. ‘Uncle Zach would be furious if he realised that I know, let alone that I’ve told anyone else!’

  Dizzy had tensed just at the mention of Zach’s name, and now that she realised Christi had been about to confide something about him she wished she hadn’t teased her about it. She had a burning curiosity to know all there was to know about Zachariah Bennett.

  One thing she did know about him: it was almost two-thirty, the usual time Christi had said her uncle went off to do his bird-watching. It was hotter today than it had been yesterday, and she didn’t doubt that Zach was once again at the lake, indulging in a naked swim…

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘JUST what sort of unfeeling monster do the two of you think I am?’

  Dizzy and Christi both looked up with a start as Zach strode furiously into the lounge where they were both waiting for him before dinner.

  It was the first time Dizzy had seen him since their conversation in the library that morning, having used a walk with Christi this afternoon to keep herself from the magnetic pull going to the lake to watch Zach had for her.