by Rosie Harris
Table of Contents
A Selection of Recent Titles from Rosie Harris
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
A Selection of Recent Titles from Rosie Harris
LOVE AGAINST ALL ODDS
SING FOR YOUR SUPPER
WAITING FOR LOVE
LOVE CHANGES EVERYTHING
A DREAM OF LOVE
A LOVE LIKE OURS
THE QUALITY OF LOVE
WHISPERS OF LOVE
AMBITIOUS LOVE
THE PRICE OF LOVE
A BRIGHTER DAWN
HELL HATH NO FURY
Rosie Harris
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First published in Great Britain and the USA 2013 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.
eBook edition first published in 2013 by Severn House Digital
an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited
Copyright © 2013 by Rosie Harris.
The right of Rosie Harris to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Harris, Rosie, 1925-
Hell hath no fury.
1. Murder–Investigation–Fiction. 2. Romantic suspense novels.
I. Title
823.9'14-dc23
ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-402-7 (epub)
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8270-7 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-476-9 (trade paper)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.
For Mike O’Neill
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
With many thanks to Kate Lyall Grant and her wonderful team, especially Rachel Simpson Hutchens, at Severn House for all their help.
Also to my agent Caroline Sheldon and to Robert Harris for keeping my web page up to date.
ONE
March, 1993
Maureen Flynn suddenly felt nervous. She stared down into the liquid darkness of the coffee the waiter had just placed in front of her, and waited uneasily for her companion’s next words.
Of average height, she was slim, almost anorexic by some people’s standards. Her dark-grey suit and pristine white blouse had an off-the-peg look about them as if they had been chosen for their serviceability rather than style. Her straight, dark-brown hair was drawn back from her face in a French pleat, and this emphasized her high cheekbones and dark eyes. She wore the minimum of make-up, and her only item of jewellery was a gold wristwatch.
She’d been working as a freelance research assistant exclusively for Philip Harmer for the last six months, and with each passing day she had grown increasingly aware of the empathy developing between them. It was a wonderfully satisfying feeling; one that lifted her spirits so that life suddenly had a fresh sense of purpose.
Normally, Maureen ensured that her relationship with clients was on a strictly business basis, but with Philip Harmer it had been different. For her, at any rate.
She’d felt an instant affinity with Professor Harmer the very first time they’d met. He was the sort of man she admired: well-bred, well-mannered, courteous and extremely intellectual. An added bonus was that he seemed to value her opinion.
The friendship that had slowly developed between them was as fragile as fine china, and she was fearful that one of them was about to say or do something that would shatter it into a myriad of tiny pieces.
Philip Harmer was in his early fifties; thin, with aesthetic features and deep-set keen blue eyes. Some would regard him as staid since he was as conservative in his outlook as in his dress. Maureen didn’t.
For her, Philip Harmer’s analytical mind and powers of discernment were part of his attraction. She found that most men of her generation who held positions of authority were self-opinionated and brash. He didn’t need to be pompous or egotistical. He radiated intelligence.
Professor Philip Harmer was an authority on Far East Business Development and was currently engaged in a project for one of the world’s leading communication enterprises.
It was a company she had worked for many times as a freelance researcher, and they had advised him to use her services to help collate the data he required.
She had enjoyed every moment of their collaboration. Her quick probing mind complemented his attention to detail. Together they made a formidable team.
They were both workaholics. Once they discovered that neither of them had any family obligations, and very few social commitments, time ceased to exist. When they were involved in a problem they went on working as long as was necessary, until every detail had been dealt with to their complete satisfaction.
Afterwards, he would invite her to go for a drink or a meal, and as they analysed and enthused over what they had achieved she would feel a warm glow of contentment. It was a physical response unlike anything she had experienced prior to meeting him.
She had never before felt so completely at ease, or so perfectly in unison with another person. Her feelings for him deepened as the weeks working together lengthened into months.
Frequently, when they were apart, she found herself thinking about Philip. Emotional fantasies constantly filled her thoughts. There was such a tremendous affinity between them, and she felt so relaxed and safe in his company that eventually she had to admit to herself that she was falling in love with him.
It was an intellectual attraction, not a mere physical one, and this was of paramount importance to her.
She agonized about Philip’s feelings for her. Did he feel attracted towards her? Did he see her as a woman, she wondered, or merely as a skilled researcher . . . a human computer?
Her neat but nondescript appearance was a shell to hide her vulnerability. No one would believe it possible that, behind the organized efficiency she displayed in her working life, she was a quivering mass of nerves, or that she was unbearably shy. Meeting new clients filled her with unease until she became so absorbed in the work she was undertaking for them that her brain took over and her inhibitions receded into the back of her mind.
Work was her salvation, the one thing she excelled at. Immer
sed in the intricacies of research she was able to forget what other people might be thinking of her, forget about her feelings of inferiority, and even forget where she was.
Following up tenuous clues, building up layer upon layer of information, made her oblivious of everything else and gave her such tremendous satisfaction that she was completely fulfilled. Such absorption in her work compensated Maureen for the fact that, by other people’s standards, her private life was drab and monotonous. She had few friends or acquaintances. She spent her evenings and weekends alone . . . reading or working. M&S microwaveable dinners-for-one, and shrink-wrapped sandwiches, were her standby, consumed alone.
She had resigned herself to the fact that she would never marry. Leastways, she had until she met Philip Harmer. Now, for the first time in her life, Maureen allowed herself the luxury of dreaming about what it might be like to share a home with a husband and children.
As the initial research for the project they were working on neared completion, Philip confided in her that it was going to be necessary for him to visit the Far East in order to complete his work. She waited expectantly for him to say he would be needing the services of a researcher. The dilemma of whether or not to accept, if he did invite her to accompany him, became uppermost in her mind.
The idea of the coming separation if he didn’t ask her to go with him didn’t bear thinking about. It was like waiting for a tempting treat which, deep down, you knew you might not get.
The years were winging by at an alarming rate, and she was well aware that because of her introspective ways she not only lacked friends, and was in something of a rut, but was also missing out on what life could offer.
Normally, Maureen was averse to travelling. Although she was thirty-four she had never even been outside the UK. She considered holidays a waste of time. Lying on a beach didn’t appeal to her . . . Not on her own! A working trip to the Far East though, with Philip Harmer, would be quite a different proposition.
She switched her thoughts back to the present. Philip was speaking, and she hadn’t caught what he’d said . . . Leastways, she didn’t think she had. For one moment she thought he’d asked her to marry him!
He gave one of his rare smiles. ‘I thought my proposal might take you by surprise, Maureen!’
She remained silent. She felt both exhilaration and disbelief, and was wondering if the wine she had drunk with her meal had turned her daydreams into reality.
‘I recognize that, like me, you are career orientated,’ Philip Harmer went on. ‘That is why I have found working with you both stimulating and rewarding. And why I thought we were so suitable for each other.’
His keen dark eyes studied her shrewdly, watching her reaction with almost clinical detachment. He had always guarded his bachelor existence, partly in the belief that he could only achieve success in his field through undivided dedication, and partly because, as a Roman Catholic, he saw marriage as a lifetime commitment, and, until now, he had never met a woman who had the necessary qualifications to meet his personal standards.
‘So, what do you say? Will you marry me?’
She wasn’t daydreaming. Philip Harmer really had spoken those magic words. He had asked her to marry him. Maureen felt a surge of excitement; no one had ever proposed to her before. She didn’t meet many eligible men. And, normally, the ones she did never gave her a second glance.
Why should they, she reflected disparagingly. She was of medium height, with straight dark hair, dark eyes, and a pursed up mouth that rarely relaxed in a smile. Worst of all, she was painfully thin.
Most of the men she came into contact with during the course of her work were high-powered management with either glamorous partners, or wives and young families, and an established lifestyle.
Professor Philip Harmer wasn’t all that young, of course. Early fifties; brain rather than brawn, she thought wryly as she studied his thin frame with its narrow shoulders, his handsome features and greying hair.
Now that she had recovered from her initial shock, the idea of becoming Mrs Philip Harmer had tremendous appeal.
‘Well . . .’ She studied him discreetly, playing for time because she was not quite sure how to word her acceptance.
His face was inscrutable. Like her, he kept his feelings under control. They could have been discussing statistics for all the emotion he displayed.
‘Perhaps you’d like time to think about it . . .?’
‘No! No, no. Of course not!’ She bit her lip. She didn’t want to sound too eager. But neither did she want him to think she wasn’t interested.
‘Does that mean your answer is yes?’
Maureen nodded.
Leaning across the table he took one of her hands and lifted it to his lips. ‘I am most honoured!’ he said gravely.
Her tight smile masked her inner surge of contentment. Suddenly, her future had shape; a whole new vista was opening up. As Professor Philip Harmer’s wife there would be so much to look forward to; a completely different way of life. Working together they could achieve tremendous success.
‘I’m very happy to do so,’ she murmured.
‘And I’m extremely gratified that you have accepted.’ He signalled to the waiter. ‘We must drink a toast! Champagne?’
As they clinked glasses he smiled gravely. ‘I realize you know very little about me. Or I about you, if it comes to that!’
Maureen smiled politely. She still felt mesmerized.
‘Confession time then!’ He touched his glass against the side of hers again. ‘I’ll begin. I’m fifty-three. A bachelor! I’m sound in wind and limb, and a practising Roman Catholic. You know the sort of work I do so there’s nothing more I need tell you about that. You also know that I’m planning an expedition to the Far East quite soon.’
He paused, took a sip of his drink and regarded her solemnly. ‘I thought we could have a quiet wedding and make the trip a double event . . . Namely, our honeymoon.’
Maureen took a deep gulp of her champagne and almost choked. Things were moving so swiftly that she felt as if she was being bulldozed along.
‘As well as my work, I have private means, and a flat in Portman Mansions,’ he went on, mentioning a prestigious block of property outside the town. ‘I’ve never been married and I have no family ties. What else can I tell you?’
Maureen smiled nervously. ‘It sounds as though you’ve led an irreproachable life!’
‘I hope so. I’ve always tried to conform, and to be a law-abiding citizen,’ he added a trifle pompously. ‘My only brush with authority was when I was twelve. I was caught smoking in the bike shed behind the church by Father Declan, and he threatened to call the police,’ he added with an attempt at humour to lighten the tension.
‘An exemplary character!’
‘Or a dull one. It depends on your outlook,’ Philip remarked stiffly. ‘Having been brought up Roman Catholic I’ve always behaved myself because I have a very zealous conscience.’
‘It’s an admirable quality!’ Maureen murmured, her eyes shining. There was a curious old-fashioned dignity about him that she found endearing.
‘So now, what about you?’
Maureen shrugged her slim shoulders and looked thoughtful. ‘Equally blameless, I think.’
‘Go on,’ he persisted. ‘I want to hear everything right from your schooldays.’
Maureen shrugged. ‘OK. After A-levels I spent two years at a business college, and then I went into marketing, specializing in research. Three years ago I started freelancing. For the last six months I’ve worked exclusively for you.’
‘An equally irreproachable life, or so it would seem! Not a single brush with the law? Not even a parking ticket?’
A shadow crossed her face. She avoided his eyes and drained her glass.
He frowned. ‘Is there something you’ve remembered?’
‘No . . . no. Nothing . . . nothing at all!’
Her emphatic denial increased his curiosity. ‘Look –’ he leaned across the tabl
e, and took both her hands in his – ‘I hold you in very high regard, Maureen. Over the last few months you’ve become an irreplaceable part of my life. I value you as a friend as well as a colleague. I’m sure neither of us is passionately in love with the other, but for all that, I think marriage between us could work.’
She tried to speak, but failed. She had been aware of the charisma between them right from the moment they had first met. Her feelings for him went far deeper than mere friendship. Even so, she hesitated to tell him how much in love with him she was. He was so reserved that she felt it might embarrass him if she did.
‘In my business dealings I have always found complete honesty to be the most manageable way of conducting things. That is why I want us both to know everything there is about each other,’ he told her earnestly.
‘Yes. Yes, of course! I do understand.’
‘I have told you all there is to know about myself. I am simply asking you to do the same.’
‘I have!’
He shook his head. ‘You’ve told me very little. I don’t even know how old you are!’
Suddenly afraid that Philip Harmer might withdraw his offer of marriage, Maureen became uncharacteristically garrulous.
‘I’m thirty-four, and I’m single. I have my own car, and my own home. It’s a one-bedroom apartment in a new estate here in Dutton. My parents are still alive, and living in North Wales. They moved there when my father retired. I’ve already told you all about my career.’
‘And you’ve had no brush with the law . . . Not even when you were a teenager?’
The words were spoken in a jesting tone but she was conscious that he was watching her keenly. She felt a dull flush creep up her neck, gradually suffusing her cheeks.
‘No! No! Of course I haven’t!’ She spread her hands, then covered her face with them, shielding herself from his piercing blue stare.
‘There’s obviously something you’re not telling me,’ he persisted in a puzzled voice. ‘What is it? If we are going to spend the rest of our lives together I feel I have a right to know,’ he added pompously.
