by Anne Mather
‘I think we’ve heard enough from you,’ he said, amazed at the satisfaction he got at seeing Piers’s reaction. However cocky the other man might pretend to be, he wasn’t totally indifferent to the threat Jake offered. ‘Come on. You’re leaving.’
‘Not yet.’ Despite her daughter’s efforts to get her to go back upstairs, Lady Hannah hadn’t finished what she had to say. ‘Listen to me, Jake. Piers never seduced your wife. That was my doing.’
‘What?’
‘What are you saying, Mama?’
It was difficult to tell which of them was the most shocked by her confession, and, predictably, it was Piers who recovered first.
Dragging himself away from Jake’s unresisting hand, he straightened his collar before saying contemptuously, ‘Now I’ve heard everything.’ He looked up at the old lady with scornful eyes. ‘What you’ll do to keep this old ruin from falling about your ears! What are you saying? That you seduced your daughter yourself?’
‘Don’t—don’t you dare say such filthy things to me.’ Lady Hannah swayed and Isobel had a struggle to keep her upright. ‘You know I’m telling the truth. I told you to get into bed with Isobel when I heard Jake’s car coming up the drive.’
‘What?’
Isobel stared at her mother now, as if she’d never seen her before, and Jake struggled to make sense of what the old woman was saying. It couldn’t be true. Lady Hannah couldn’t have accomplished such a thing on her own. What about Isobel? Isobel must have been a willing accomplice, however shocked she appeared now.
‘It’s true,’ said the old lady weakly. ‘Oh, I’m not denying it was what I’d been angling for. I never wanted Isobel to marry you. I never thought you were good enough for her. But she wouldn’t look at Piers, even though he’d loved her for years.’
‘Mama!’
Lady Hannah shook her head. ‘I know it was wrong now, but it seemed a good idea at the time. And getting you to Mattingley was easy enough. I knew you wouldn’t let me come up on my own and I saw my chance.’
‘Oh, Mama.’
Isobel’s voice was breaking now, and Piers seemed to see a chance to intervene. ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t know what was happening,’ he sneered. ‘You were hungry for it.’
‘No—’
Jake didn’t know if Isobel’s cry was a plaintive denial or a plea to him not to act on Piers’s ugly words. Whatever, this time it came too late to prevent the inevitable, and his fist smashed heavily into Mallory’s face. His knuckles stung, but not as much as Piers’s nose, he’d bet, and as blood sprayed hotly over the collar of his shirt Emily burst into tears.
Until that moment he’d forgotten the child was there, but now he pulled her into his arms, comforting her with little words of reassurance as he rubbed her trembling shoulders. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetheart,’ he said, over and over, while Piers struggled to douse the blood streaming from his nose with his handkerchief.
But Isobel wasn’t finished.
‘You—you got me drunk,’ she said, as if remembering the circumstances of the event. She groaned. ‘Oh, God, you got me drunk! You wanted Piers to seduce me. That was your plan all along.’
Lady Hannah lifted a trembling hand. ‘I was a fool. I’ve told you. I know that now.’ She drew a laboured breath. ‘Can you ever forgive me?’
‘You didn’t think that I might be pregnant.’ Isobel choked on the words. ‘You didn’t consider my feelings at all. All you ever think about is this house, as Piers said.’
‘That may have been true once, Isobel, but not now.’ Her mother was desperate; Jake could see that. ‘Please, believe me.’
But, as Isobel brushed her mother’s pleas aside and stumbled down the stairs, his own emotions were suddenly shattered by the realisation of what this meant to him. Dear God, Emily was his daughter. All these years, when he’d been denying her existence, she’d been growing up without her father’s support.
‘Belle,’ he said, reaching out a hand as Isobel went past him, but she barely looked at him.
‘Don’t touch me,’ she said, in a strained voice. ‘Don’t any of you touch me. You’re all as bad as each other.’
‘Belle!’ Jake was desperate now. ‘I didn’t know. I didn’t know what to think.’
‘You didn’t believe me,’ she said, her eyes as clear and cold as an arctic lake. ‘Do you think this makes a difference? Do you honestly think because my mother has absolved me of all blame that I’ll forgive you for what you’ve done? That I’ll forgive any of you? Grow up, Jake. I don’t need your absolution. I don’t need anything any more.’
And, without another word, she marched out through the front door. But it wasn’t until he heard the sound of the Porsche accelerating down the drive that he remembered he’d left his keys in the ignition.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘DADDY, Granny says there’s a fly buzzing round the room and it’s driving her mad. Can you come and get it?’
Jake heaved a sigh. He knew he should be used to Lady Hannah’s antics by now, but, despite the fact that he was sure the fly would have miraculously disappeared by the time he got to the old lady’s apartments, he obediently got up from the computer and accompanied his daughter along the corridor to her room.
‘You don’t mind, do you, Daddy?’ Emily asked anxiously, and Jake found a smile for her benefit.
‘’Course not,’ he said, putting his arm around the child’s narrow shoulders and giving a squeeze. It was a relief to see that Emily seemed to be recovering from her distress at her mother’s disappearance at last. Somehow Jake had managed to convince her that Isobel would come back when she was ready, and apparently Emily was adapting to that eventuality.
Nevertheless, it had been a long three weeks since Isobel had driven off in the Porsche. To begin with Emily had been inconsolable, and Jake knew it had to be an indication of Isobel’s state of mind that she’d abandoned her daughter like that. He had had his work cut out just comforting the child. And Lady Hannah hadn’t been much better. She’d blamed herself—with good reason—and Jake had given up any thought of returning to London until Isobel got back. If she got back. But Jake refused to consider that possibility.
‘Mrs Edwards says it’s cottage pie for supper,’ offered Emily suddenly. ‘Granny likes that.’
‘Sounds good.’ Jake was upbeat, but in all honesty he couldn’t have cared less. His appetite was virtually nonexistent. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s okay.’ Emily was indifferent. Clearly she had something else on her mind. Then, with endearing honesty, she said, ‘I wish Mummy would come back.’
Don’t we all? thought Jake, but he deliberately put on a cheerful face. ‘She’ll be back soon,’ he said. ‘Like I told you: she just needs a little time to be on her own, that’s all. She knew I’d stay here and look after you and Granny.’
‘Did she?’
Emily didn’t sound convinced, and Jake had to admit it wasn’t a situation he would have visualised his wife permitting in the normal way. But then, when Isobel had left Mattingley she’d behaved anything but normally, and it was this more than anything that had persuaded him to alert the police to her disappearance.
He’d kept it low key, of course. He hadn’t wanted a squad car screaming up to the doors of Mattingley and a posse of police officers swarming all over the property. He’d merely had a word with the Assistant Chief Constable and explained a little of the circumstances surrounding Isobel’s departure to him. In consequence, a covert investigation had been made. Unfortunately, without any positive results.
The possibility that she might have done some injury to herself was a constant nightmare. No one knew better than Jake how disastrous betrayal could feel, and the Porsche was a powerful vehicle on which to vent your grief. Images of her losing control on one of the treacherous bends that littered these moors or plunging into a water-filled quarry tormented him. He knew the police had checked the cliffs that edged the coastline. There was always the fear that she had
driven the car over the cliffs and been swept out to sea.
The fact that nothing had been found was little consolation. People disappeared every day and were never seen again. His only real hope was that Isobel wouldn’t do that to Emily.
‘Are you cross because I interrupted you?’ Emily asked suddenly, and Jake realised she had mistaken his silence for annoyance.
‘How could I be cross with you?’ he exclaimed, giving her another hug. ‘We’re pals, aren’t we? We don’t have to stand on ceremony with one another.’
‘And you don’t mind staying here?’ she persisted, and he sighed.
‘Of course I don’t. It’s given us a chance to get to know one another properly.’
‘And you really do believe that I’m your daughter now, don’t you?’ Emily asked with some satisfaction, and Jake realised that if nothing else it had brought them closer together.
‘No question,’ he assured her with another squeeze. ‘I can’t imagine why I had any doubts.’
‘But you did?’
‘I made a mistake,’ said Jake gently. ‘A terrible mistake. I believed someone else.’
‘Mr Mallory?’
Emily was sharp. Jake would give her that.
‘It doesn’t matter now,’ he said, wondering if Isobel knew or even cared how bittersweet that knowledge was. Of course, she must have known he’d take care of Emily, whatever happened. Otherwise she would never have left her with him. Perhaps she’d thought he’d return to London and take Emily to his home. After all, she still believed he was going to marry Marcie.
Isobel’s mother was propped up on her pillows when he entered the bedroom. She looked frailer than ever and, despite the fact that he had nothing to thank her for, Jake found he couldn’t hate her. She’d done what she’d done for her own reasons, but there was no doubt that in the last three weeks she’d paid for it.
He’d never known his own mother, of course, but he knew that if she’d behaved towards him as Lady Hannah had Isobel, he’d have felt completely different. Isobel was her own flesh and blood. Was any house worth such a sacrifice?
‘Oh, Jake,’ she said now, when he came in with her granddaughter. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but there’s been a fly buzzing at the windows for the past hour.’
Jake nodded. ‘So I hear.’ He crossed the room and scanned the glass. ‘Where is it?’
‘Isn’t it there?’ Lady Hannah sounded anxious, and Jake gave a resigned sigh.
‘It doesn’t look like it,’ he said tolerantly. ‘It must have followed Emily out.’
‘Oh, yes.’ The old lady jumped on the explanation, proving that, as Jake had anticipated, there’d been no fly in the first place. ‘Oh, well, as you’re here now, perhaps you’d like to join me in a cup of tea?’
Jake hesitated. He saw the tray of tea now, cooling on the bedside table, and guessed this had been her plan all along.
‘Well—’
‘I know you’re busy, and I know that working here can’t be very satisfactory for you, particularly as we’ve taken up so much of your time, but I wish you would stay for a few minutes. I want to talk to you.’
It was the longest speech the old lady had made since Isobel’s departure and she was breathless at the end of it. So breathless, in fact, that Jake felt obliged to pull the tapestry-covered bedside chair towards the bed and drop into it. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Shall I pour?’
‘Oh, would you?’ Lady Hannah managed a faint smile. Then she turned to her granddaughter. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have any orange juice, Emily. Perhaps you’d run down to Mrs Edwards and ask her for a glass.’
‘I don’t want any orange juice,’ said Emily at once, propping her hip against the back of her father’s chair. ‘I’m not thirsty.’
Her grandmother’s lips tightened, but before the old lady could say anything to upset the child Jake intervened. ‘I think your granny means she wants to have a private word with me,’ he said, twisting his head to look up at her. ‘Why don’t you go and check out the game I’ve just installed on the laptop? It’s a totally new concept called Predators. I’d be interested to hear what you think of it.’
‘Really?’ Emily was incredulous. ‘I can use your computer?’
‘So long as you don’t try and access my files,’ remarked Jake drily. ‘Yeah, go on. I was going to show it to you later anyway.’
‘Cool.’
Her anxieties forgotten, Emily darted out of the room, and Lady Hannah bestowed a grateful look on her son-in-law. ‘Thank you.’
‘Hey, I didn’t do it for you,’ Jake responded, making no attempt to pour the tea. ‘What do you want?’
‘So direct,’ said Lady Hannah with a bitter smile. ‘And you wondered why I didn’t want Isobel to marry you.’
Jake shook his head. ‘I never wondered that, old lady. What you really mean is that I didn’t have enough class for your daughter. Well, okay. I’ll give you that. But I can’t believe you think she’d have been happier with that two-faced bastard I used to call my friend.’
‘No…’ She gave him that, plucking at the bedspread with fingers that were now as thin and brittle as talons. ‘I was wrong about that, as I’ve been about so many things. That’s why I want to try and put them right.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Jake was suspicious. ‘What did you have in mind?’
Lady Hannah hesitated. ‘I’m going to alter my will.’ She moistened her dry lips. ‘I’m going to leave Mattingley to you.’
‘No!’ Jake had pushed the chair back and was on his feet almost before she’d finished speaking. ‘You’re crazy!’
‘No, I’m not.’ Lady Hannah’s voice was gaining strength again. ‘This place can only be an albatross around Isobel’s neck. It’s mortgaged to the hilt, as you know, and the death duties alone will be crippling. You can afford it. Isobel can’t. But I want it to stay in the family. I want Emily to continue to be able to come here, to know her heritage. If I leave it to Isobel it will be sold and that will be that.’
‘If she comes back,’ said Jake savagely, not caring in that moment if he upset her or not. What she was suggesting was cruel, barbaric. The selfish judgement of a woman who cared for little beyond her own vainglorious ends.
At least his words had the effect he’d hoped for. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded, her face leached of all colour. ‘What have you heard?’
‘I’ve heard nothing,’ retorted Jake, slamming the chair aside and striding restlessly about the room. ‘But dammit, woman, have you no shame?’
Lady Hannah held up her head. ‘I don’t think you have any room to criticise me, Jake,’ she declared, a tremor in her voice. She gestured in the direction Emily had taken. ‘For the past ten years you’ve denied that little girl’s existence.’
‘And whose fault was that?’
‘Not mine,’ said his mother-in-law doggedly. ‘You did that all by yourself.’
Jake scowled. ‘I don’t understand you. You were willing to take my money but you were afraid that we might get back together. Why? I’ve often wondered. Why?’
‘Then you’re not half as astute as I thought,’ declared the old lady scornfully. ‘Think about it. Do you honestly believe I wanted you to find out that Emily was yours?’
Jake stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment. What the hell was she talking about? And then, like a streak of lightning, understanding dawned. ‘You didn’t want to be found out,’ he accused her incredulously. ‘My God, you let me go on thinking Isobel had betrayed me because you couldn’t face what would happen if she found out how you’d tried to manipulate her.’
Lady Hannah’s features looked shrunken now. ‘You have such an elegant way of putting it,’ she said tightly. ‘But, in essence, yes. That is what I thought.’
Jake shook his head. ‘I guess you hoped that if I wasn’t around Isobel might begin to see Mallory in a different light. Oh, boy, that must have been some disappointment.’
‘I didn’t know she was pregnant, did I?’ retorted the
old woman bitterly. ‘If I’d had any hopes in that direction they were shattered when Isobel’s condition became too obvious to ignore.’
‘And Mallory knew the baby couldn’t be his,’ exclaimed Jake triumphantly. ‘My God, I used to wonder why Piers never attempted to see his daughter. Why Isobel insisted she never wanted to see him again.’
‘You weren’t interested enough to do anything about it,’ pointed out his mother-in-law tartly. ‘We’ve neither of us come out of this untarnished, Jake. We both have our crosses to bear.’
Which was nothing but the truth, he thought, even if he didn’t want to believe it. Yet, he consoled himself, he hadn’t instigated what had happened. Lady Hannah had. And now she wanted to compound the offence by leaving Mattingley to him.
‘I don’t want the house,’ he said, pushing his thumbs into the waistband at the back of his pants. ‘I won’t accept it. Mattingley belongs to the Laceys, not the McCabes.’
‘But you could do so much with it,’ cried the old lady desperately. ‘You have the money. You could restore it to its former glory. I realise Ms Duncan may not want to live here, but at weekends—’
‘I’m not going to marry Marcie Duncan,’ declared Jake flatly, voicing the decision he’d made the morning Isobel had come to the pub to see him. ‘I told her when she got back from Jamaica. She’s presently deciding whether she’s going to sue me for breach of promise or accept the settlement I’ve offered her. I’ve pointed out that, as I’m still married to Isobel, it might be difficult proving breach of promise, but she’s got to decide for herself.’
Lady Hannah’s lips twitched. ‘You are a bastard, Jake,’ she said, not without some admiration, and he shrugged.
‘So they tell me,’ he said, heading for the door. ‘So—no more talk about changing your will, eh?’
‘I may not need to,’ murmured his nemesis smugly, and Jake frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
Lady Hannah considered. ‘Well, if you’re not going to marry Ms Duncan, I can only assume that that’s because you still care about Isobel. Who knows? Now that the truth is out, you two may get back together.’
