Emma's Secret

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘And this young man?’ Arlette asked now. ‘The one who helped you this morning…will you be meeting him again soon?’

  Evan gaped at her. ‘Oh, but he doesn’t work there.’

  ‘I didn’t mean seeing him at work.’ Arlette gazed at the younger woman indulgently, shaking her head, pursing her lips.

  Evan saw the merriment in Arlette’s dark eyes, noticed the hidden laughter twitching on her pretty mouth, and for a moment she wondered if this attractive and motherly Frenchwoman was teasing her. After only a moment she realized that she was not. Evan took a deep breath. ‘He was just trying to be helpful, that’s all,’ she protested.

  Arlette sat up a little straighter, and crossed her legs, arranging her full red skirt over highly polished brown boots. After a moment’s consideration, she explained. ‘I was thinking of a rendezvous…a date with him?’ Those wise brown eyes lingered on Evan’s questioningly.

  A deep pink flush spread from Evan’s neck up to her face, and she almost stuttered as she said, ‘I–I don’t think I will be meeting him again. Not in the way you mean, Arlette.’

  ‘No? You do not think so?’ The Frenchwoman sounded surprised and shook her head vigorously. ‘But I do. Ah oui. I am sure. You will have a rendezvous with him, ma petite choux à la crème. And in the not too distant future.’ Her lilting laughter rippled on the warm air once more. ‘It is…obvious…he had a hand in cutting through the red ribbon. At the store. Ah yes. Absolument.’

  ‘The red ribbon?’ Evan frowned at her, looking puzzled.

  ‘Ah non, non. I am stupid! Not the red ribbon. The red tape.’

  ‘You’re right about that part, Arlette. But I’m not sure about a date with him. I don’t think he’s interested in me.’

  ‘Trust me, cherie. I am older than you, and I am a Frenchwoman. And we know about these things. We know about…l’amour.’

  Unbeknownst to Evan and Arlette, Gideon Harte, at that precise moment in time, was indeed thinking about a rendezvous with Evan Hughes.

  He sat in his office at the Yorkshire Consolidated Newspaper Company, in a building on the other side of London, his mind on the young American woman. He had been thinking about her a lot, since meeting her in the corridor at Harte’s yesterday. There was something about her that was special. She totally held his interest, and there was no doubt that he wanted to see her again. And as soon as possible. He had discovered that he felt a sense of urgency about her, a need to be in her company, to discover more about her. At once. He was impatient to know more.

  Gideon already knew that Linnet had hired her on a trial basis. His cousin had phoned to tell him that a short while ago. Furthermore, Linnet had thanked him profusely, as if he had led Evan by the hand to Harte’s, when, in fact, her arrival at the store had been happenstance, pure luck. And she had been enthusiastic about Evan Hughes, gone into minute detail about the meetings they had had. ‘She’s great for me,’ Linnet had just informed him. ‘She’s going to be wonderful. She’s a real find, Gid, and I know India’s going to like her as much as I do. Evan came up with some brilliant ideas. She bodes well for me, Gideon, she really does.’

  Did she bode well for him? He hoped so. He wished he could call Evan right now, but he had no idea where to find her, and he certainly had no intention of phoning Linnet to ask for her number. He would deal with that tomorrow by calling Evan herself at the store.

  Pushing his chair slightly away from the desk, he put his feet up on it, crossing his long legs at the ankles. Closing his eyes, he contemplated the new addition to Linnet’s staff.

  Since there was a big push on to complete the retrospective, Linnet and Evan would be together a lot, which meant he would have easy access to Evan. In any case, he didn’t imagine there would be a problem about dating her. It had struck him that she had seemed interested in him, just as he was in her. He had seen her blushes, noted her fascination with him, felt the tremor in her arm when he had led her over to Linnet’s desk. Yes, she was taken with him. Well, he hoped she was.

  Although he had never had much trouble with women, Gideon Harte was not a conceited man. In fact, in certain ways it was his lack of male vanity, his gentleness and a degree of diffidence that women found attractive. Although he was tall, good looking, and blessed with an easy charm, there was also a little boy quality in him which appealed to women, made them want to fuss over him, spoil him.

  Gideon liked women, respected them, and especially admired those who were accomplished, who were doers and workers. He didn’t have much interest in women who wasted their time, had no job or profession. Yet all types of women flocked to him. The problem was he had never really been in love, had never met anyone he had wanted to get serious with. Until now.

  Until now! Wow! This unexpected thought brought him up with a start.

  Snapping open his eyes, he sat straighter in the chair, and dropped his feet to the floor. Good God! He was thinking about getting serious with Evan Hughes, and he didn’t even know her! What was wrong with him? He must have gone mad.

  After a moment’s contemplation he had the answer. He had fallen for her, fallen hard, and in the blink of an eye.

  A coup de foudre, the French called it, a flash of lightning. Oh God, he thought, I’ve gone and fallen for a stranger I know nothing about. Maybe she’s engaged, or involved with another man. And maybe she’s not interested in me. Maybe I’ve imagined that, maybe it’s wishful thinking?

  Puffing his cheeks, he blew out air, then settled back in the chair. What was it about her that was so different? Not necessarily her looks, even though she was beautiful, because he usually went for tall, slender, dark-haired women, exotic-looking women.

  Perhaps it was her manner that had captivated him. She had been forthcoming in the corridor, and yet he had detected a reticence in her, an air of refinement. And then there was her extraordinary smile, which had made his heart do a flip, and those large liquid eyes that had seemed to swamp him. Clear, luminous eyes that were full of honesty, and trust.

  I’m behaving like a schoolboy, he chastised himself. And I’m twenty-eight years old. I should know better. I mustn’t get carried away. That could be fatal for me, especially if she’s caught up with someone else.

  She might even be engaged, he now decided. On the other hand, she hadn’t been wearing a ring. Still, that didn’t really signify anything these days. People were often engaged without a ring to show for it.

  But I’ll get her a ring, he thought. A sapphire ring. No, aquamarine to match the colour of her eyes. Hey, slow down, he muttered under his breath. You’re running ahead of yourself. But he couldn’t help it. No two ways about it. He wanted Evan Hughes.

  Gideon’s eyes shifted to the door at the sound of knocking. ‘Come in,’ he called, and then instantly jumped to his feet at the sight of his father on the threshold.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ he exclaimed, walking towards him.

  ‘Hello, my boy,’ Winston Harte said, giving him a broad smile.

  After they had embraced, and Gideon had led his father to a chair near his desk, he said, ‘I thought you were in Yorkshire, Dad. What’re you doing in London?’

  ‘I came up to town for a meeting at the television studios, and I wanted to see you anyway.’

  Gideon raised a brow quizzically. ‘What about?’

  ‘Christian Palmer.’

  ‘Oh God, Dad, I knew you were going to say that. Look, I don’t seem to make any inroads with him. You know what he’s like, so tough-minded. He won’t come back, Dad. He’s busy writing his book.’

  Winston sighed. ‘I figured you’d say that, although I knew you’d stay on top of it. I’ve always said you’re like a dog with a bone. But look here, there must be some inducement we can offer?’

  Sitting down at his desk, Gideon nodded. ‘I think there is, but it’s going to cost us.’

  ‘Whatever it is, Christian’s worth it. He’s the best damned editor we’ve ever had, and I believe we need him back here. So, what’s the price?’


  ‘He loves that house he’s renting on the Isle of Man. I’m sure if we offer to buy it for him he’ll agree to come back.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘I’m not sure, Dad. I’ll go into it with him, if you’re in agreement. It’s a nice house, and he’s rented it off and on for a number of years. He’s become very attached to it.’

  ‘Whereabouts is it on the Isle of Man?’

  ‘Just outside Douglas. In an area where he used to go with his parents as a child. He finds the Manx way of life very easy, very compatible, and of course he has peace and quiet to write his books. Furthermore, it’s not difficult to get to, you know, just a plane trip from Lancashire.’

  ‘It’s not exactly an easy commute,’ Winston pointed out, shaking his head. ‘And are you sure the house will be enough of an inducement? He might want something else?’

  ‘I doubt it. Christian’s not like that, and listen, he might not even go for the deal. He’s hell-bent on doing some serious writing, you know.’

  ‘All I know is that he is the best editor Fleet Street has ever seen, except for Arthur Christiansen, and he was king of the heap sixty years ago. He made the Daily Express. Palmer’s cut from the same cloth. Editors with their talent and brilliance don’t often come along. So, do your best, my boy. Get him to come back, whatever the cost.’

  ‘Okay, but it might mean a bigger contract as well’

  ‘That’s not a problem, Gideon,’ Winston said briskly. ‘I learned years ago from Aunt Emma that when you want someone or something badly enough, the price doesn’t really matter. That’s how important Christian Palmer is to this company. So do your stuff.’

  ‘I think I’ll have to go and see him,’ Gideon said, thinking aloud. ‘I’ll talk to him on the phone tomorrow, and suggest a visit next week.’ Gideon chuckled. ‘I wish it were the middle of the summer, not the dead of winter. The Isle of Man is superb in warm weather, but a bit chilly at this time of year.’

  ‘You’re right about that. I wish we could tempt Christian to come back to the Land of the White Rose…I always thought he loved Yorkshire, loved his house in Ripon.’

  ‘I think there’s another inducement on the Isle of Man, Dad. A particular lady he’s very attached to, quite aside from his fondness for that cottage.’

  ‘Oh, it’s a cottage is it?’

  Again, Gideon chuckled. ‘A big one though.’

  ‘Make the deal with him, and the sooner the better.’

  ‘Listen, Dad, hang on a minute. I think we’ll have to wait for him until he finishes the book. In fact, I’m sure of it. Once he’s delivered to the publishers he’ll be lost, bored silly. That’s when he’ll come back, and only then.’

  ‘So be it. I’ll agree to whatever he wants. And dangle a new contract. Make it a good offer, an offer he can’t refuse. Now, do you have a date tonight, Gideon? Stupid question, I suppose you do.’

  ‘No, I don’t, as a matter of fact. Why?’

  ‘I’m at a loose end, with your mother in Yorkshire. It occurred to me we might have dinner together.’

  ‘Great idea, Dad. I’d love it,’ Gideon said, meaning this. But he couldn’t help thinking about Evan Hughes. She insinuated herself into his thoughts again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Winston Harte had always had a good sense of humour. And now, as they were being driven in his car through central London, pushing through early evening traffic towards the Dorchester Hotel, he teased his youngest son about his reputation with women.

  ‘I couldn’t believe my ears when you said you were free this evening, Gideon. A most unusual occurrence for you, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Not really, Dad. I’m often alone in the evening, you know. I’m not always gadding around the West End with a beautiful woman on my arm.’

  ‘That’s not what I hear, my boy. Everyone knows how you can so easily charm the ladies into your arms…I’m told it’s like whistling the birds out of the trees for you. Come on, admit it, Gid.’ His father chuckled. ‘You’ve gained a reputation for being quite the ladykiller.’

  Gideon had the good grace to laugh. ‘It’s an exaggeration, believe me. Toby had plenty of girls before he got married, and you know it, Dad.’

  ‘Bah! Don’t be daft! Now it’s you who’s exaggerating. He wasn’t half as popular with women as you are.’ Winston paused for a moment, and suddenly his voice sounded a trifle more serious when he added, ‘Talking of Toby, he’s got a bee in his bonnet about Tessa and Paula. Cornered me about them this afternoon, after the meeting.’

  Gideon looked at Winston swiftly, and even though the light in the car was dim he detected a troubled look settling on his father’s face, a tightening of his mouth. ‘Cornered you in what sense?’

  ‘He wanted me to talk to Paula.’

  ‘What about?’ As he asked the question, Gideon was almost certain he knew the answer. Unless he was wrong, it was the same old story rearing its ugly head.

  Winston answered quietly, ‘About the succession, of course. Who’s going to head up Harte’s when Paula retires.’

  Gideon burst out laughing. ‘He’s crazy, Dad! They’re both crazy. Paula’s only in her mid-fifties. She’s no more thinking of retiring than you are, or than I am, for that matter. She’s not giving it a thought at the moment, I’m sure. One day she’ll step down, maybe in ten years.’

  ‘I beg to differ, Gideon, my boy. But only inasmuch as I think Paula will never retire. She’ll never relinquish her power. Nor should she. Yes, she’s going to be like Emma…she’ll die with her boots on, at that desk in that store.’ He nodded his head to underscore his point.

  ‘But I thought Aunt Emma did retire. I remember you telling me that she did so when she was eighty, quite unexpectedly. At her birthday party, you said. I remember the phrase you told me she used. You said she charged Paula to “hold her dream” that night. I always thought it was a lovely way of saying she was passing on her mantle.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. But after Aunt Emma returned from her world tour with Blackie, she was soon back at the store. Maybe not running things exactly, giving Paula her head, but nonetheless she was there. And most especially after Blackie died so unexpectedly. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. And she was so bored at home.’

  ‘Now I remember…she actually died in the store, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, and with her boots on, just the way she wanted. However, getting back to Toby, he thinks Paula’s being unfair, that she ought to set Tessa’s mind at rest. He believes Paula should tell her that she will succeed to the throne at Harte’s one day. Whenever that is…I’ve certainly no idea.’

  ‘But she’s not going to succeed!’ Gideon exclaimed, and instantly broke off abruptly, sitting back hard against the seat.

  Winston glanced at his son through the corner of his eye, and asked sotto voce, ‘And how do you know this, Gideon? Has Linnet said something? Confided in you?’

  ‘Course not, Dad. Linnet doesn’t know any more than you or I do. Or Toby and Tessa, for that matter. I’m simply making a guess. It’s my opinion, and mine alone. I know that only Linnet can properly run the stores. Tessa doesn’t have a clue; she’s just not capable of it. For one thing, she’s not employee-friendly, and God knows that’s hellish important when you’re running a huge retailing empire. Anyway, if I can see this with such clarity, then surely Aunt Paula must have the same vision.’ He looked at his father quizzically.

  ‘You’re prejudiced, wouldn’t you say?’ Winston murmured, his eyes narrowing. He tended to agree with his son, but he wanted to encourage Gideon to reveal more, and said, ‘You’ve always been extremely thick with Linnet, so naturally your instincts are to stand behind her. You see only her virtues, no one else’s.’

  ‘And you have an open mind? Is that what you’re saying?’ Gideon chuckled softly. ‘Oh, Dad, come on! You know what Tessa’s really like, you’ve had to deal with her so many times in the past. You used to comment about Linnet being the best of the bunch, except fo
r poor little Patrick. You and Mum said she was the peacemaker, and a dyed-in-the-wool little mother the way she kept Lorne happy and fussed over Patrick. As for Tessa, she seemed out of it most of the time, I thought.’

  ‘That’s perfectly true. It was exactly the way you say. And she was odd, but teenage girls can be very, very strange at certain times. Hormones, your mother used to say. And Tessa may have changed…I only see her on family occasions, as you know, but she’s a grown woman, married—’

  ‘And just as bad as she always was,’ Gideon interrupted.

  ‘Bad. What do you mean by that, Gid?’

  ‘I don’t mean bad as in wicked. I meant she’s just as difficult as ever. Contrary, bossy, egotistical, and very proud to be a Fairley by descent. I don’t believe she thinks much of us Hartes. She looks down on us.’

  ‘More fool she. Tessa’s where she is today because she’s a Harte through Paula.’ There was a moment’s silence, and then Winston remarked slowly, ‘So, you think Paula’s going to make Linnet head of the chain, eh?’ He gave his son a hard, very direct stare.

  ‘One day. Yes. Very much yes. But only when Paula feels it’s necessary. It won’t be for many, many years. Paula’s too young to retire, and she loves Harte’s, loves her work. It was what Aunt Emma brought her up to do, Linnet says. But then you surely know this better than I do, Dad.’

  ‘Yes, I do. And you’re absolutely correct. I shall have a word with her, though.’

  ‘Why?’ Gideon asked, sounding a trifle irate. ‘She’ll only tell you it’s none of your business.’

  ‘No, she won’t. In a sense, it’s very much my business. I run our media companies which are a major portion of the Harte empire, whilst Paula, your mother and Aunt Amanda run their divisions. But we confer on everything. Always. Aunt Emma constantly pounded it into us that we had to think of the whole, the entire conglomerate, and not just our own separate divisions. We’ve always done that. And been very successful, I’m happy to say. So I know that I must alert Paula to these…rumblings. They affect all of us in the long run. Of course, I’m not going to advise her, only pass on a bit of information, which she can tuck away, or use as she sees fit. Even immediately, if she wants. You do understand that, Gideon?’