* * *
‘I don’t normally like talking about work over lunch...’ Janos paused and glanced apologetically around the dining room table. ‘But I just wondered, Prudence, how you think the cataloguing is going?’
Prudence frowned and put down her fork. It was a perfectly reasonable question, but there was a tension in the old man’s voice that made her hesitate and, looking across at him, she felt a ripple of concern when she saw that he looked drawn and tired.
‘It’s early days,’ she said slowly. ‘But we are making progress.’
Looking across at his grandfather, Laszlo frowned. ‘You look a bit pale, Papi. Are you feeling all right?’
Janos shook his head. ‘I’m fine, Laci. I’m just being a silly old man.’
Laszlo frowned. ‘I doubt that,’ he said firmly. ‘What’s up? Is something worrying you about the cataloguing?’
The old man shook his head. ‘It’s nothing, really. It’s just that it all seems to be taking so much longer than I expected.’
Prudence felt her chest squeeze tight with guilt. All she’d been thinking about for the last few days was Laszlo; everything else—Edmund, England and even the cataloguing—had been pushed to the periphery of her mind.
‘Please don’t worry, Janos,’ she said quickly. ‘I should have warned you. This part is always incredibly slow-moving. There’s always lots of gaps in the paperwork.’
‘Particularly when a collection is owned by a forgetful old fool who can’t remember what he bought or when and where he bought it?’ Janos said slowly.
Prudence shook her head. ‘Not at all. You’d be surprised how many people own art that’s worth thousands of pounds—hundreds of thousands of pounds—and yet have no paperwork at all.’
‘They need Prudence to come to their rescue,’ Janos said, his smile returning.
Laszlo leant back in his chair, his face impassive. ‘They can’t have her. She’s ours!’
His eyes gleamed with an intensity that made her lose the thread of what she was saying and she felt her skin turn to liquid.
Resisting the tug of his gaze, she cleared her throat. ‘I’m sorry you’ve been worried. I know it can be a bit overwhelming...’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t know how you feel about this, but I’m sure Edmund would be a good person to talk to about it.’
Janos nodded slowly. ‘Certainly, my dear—if you think he’d be happy to give me an opinion?’
Grimacing, she laughed. ‘Knowing Edmund, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy!’ She bit her lip. ‘I don’t always like what my uncle has to say, but maddeningly he’s quite often right.’
Her words were simply meant to reassure Janos but, feeling a prickle of heat on her skin, she looked up and found Laszlo watching her.
‘Is that so?’ he said flatly. ‘Your uncle is a man of many talents!’
His eyes locked onto hers and her heart began to pound, for she saw that while his face was still and calm, his eyes were alive with anger.
‘How fortunate for all of us,’ he said slowly.
Laszlo felt a sickening wave of nausea. His stomach twisted. Edmund Seymour was Prudence’s uncle!
It was as though a tide had receded, revealing jagged rocks beneath a calm blue sea.
It was bad enough that he hadn’t known until now exactly who Edmund Seymour was in relation to Prudence. But for her to suggest that Seymour now be allowed to give his ‘opinion’— It was intolerable.
He gritted his teeth and then, turning to his grandfather, smiled gently. ‘Papi, I’m going to sort this out. I want you to take the rest of the day off.’
He held his hand out towards his grandfather.
‘You can go and put your feet up and read one of those interminable Russian novels you like so much.’
Waving away Janos’s words of protest, he chivvied his grandfather out of the room.
‘No, Papi. I insist. Prudence and I can manage.’
At the door, Laszlo stopped and turned, and she felt her pulse slam against her skin as his eyes fixed coldly on her face.
‘Oh, don’t ring your uncle just yet. I’ve got an opinion of my own I’d like to share with you first. Wait here!’
A moment later, her face still scalded with colour, Prudence sat staring nervously around the dining room. Looking down at her plate, she pushed it away. Could she have misunderstood the implication of his words? But she knew she hadn’t, and she knew that something had happened to change the mood between them. She frowned. Only nothing had happened. Part of her job was to reassure the client, and that was what she’d done. Her mouth tightened into a grim line. It most certainly wasn’t part of her job to try to second-guess Laszlo’s moods.
Ten minutes later she bit her lip in indecision and then, abruptly pushing back her chair, she stood up. Typical Laszlo! Telling her to wait and then forgetting all about her. She shook her head irritably. Unlike him, she actually had work to do. But first she would ring Edmund.After all, what possible objection could he really have to her speaking to her uncle?
Laszlo caught up with her just as she reached the cottage. ‘Where the hell do you think you’re going? I told you to wait!’
His voice, dark with fury, swung her round mid-stride. She stared at him, struck by the cold, angry beauty of his face.
Forcing herself to stay calm, she shrugged and said flatly, ‘I did wait. But you didn’t come back and I have notes to write up. So, if you don’t mind—’
‘Oh, but I do. We need to talk.’
She flinched at the biting tone of his voice but drew her head up to meet his gaze. ‘I’m sorry you feel like that, but I’m busy now,’ she said carefully. ‘Maybe we can talk later.’
Turning, her heart pounding in her chest, she walked quickly up the path and opened the front door of the cottage. Before she could shut it, Laszlo had followed her into the living room.
‘What are you doing?’ She stared at him furiously. ‘You can’t just barge in here!’
‘Don’t you ever walk away from me.’ His face was twisted with anger. ‘I told you to wait!’
She lifted her chin, eyes blazing. His high-handed manner was setting her teeth on edge. ‘I did,’ she shot back at him. ‘But if you think I’ve got all day to sit around and wait for you—’
‘My grandfather was upset. I was trying to make him feel better. But maybe you don’t care about that.’ His eyes were hardening like lava cooling.
‘That’s not true, Laszlo. I do care about your grandfather,’ she said shakily. ‘And I want to help. That’s why I’m going to speak to my uncle.’
She stared at him in helpless silence as he shook his head.
‘No, you’re not.’
His voice scraped over her skin, hostility palpable in every syllable.
‘Not if you want to keep this job!’
Prudence took a step backwards, the unfairness as much as the autocratic tone of his command leaving her feeling almost winded. She felt dizzy. He’d gone completely mad. That was the only explanation.
‘What is your problem? You’re not making any sense. If Edmund hadn’t been ill he’d have been here instead of me. And you were fine with that. Only now you’re telling me I can’t even ring him?’
Incandescent with anger, Laszlo stared at her. She was right. His behaviour was irrational. Except that it wasn’t. Only he couldn’t explain that to her. Not while he was still reeling from this revelation that Edmund Seymour was the man who had ruined his life.
His chest felt tight and he took a calming breath. Finally, he said flatly, ‘We made a deal. I told you that if you couldn’t work for me then you should leave.’
‘Any deal we made didn’t include pussyfooting around you when you’re having some sort of temper tantrum!’ She glared at him. ‘This has nothing to do with our deal and you know it. You’re just angry because I wasn’t where you wanted me to be. Well, now you know what it feels like!’
There was a moment’s savage silence and then she took a breath. What wer
e they doing? Tearing each other apart over a phone call?
Feeling suddenly calmer, she shook her head and said slowly, ‘I didn’t just leave to make you angry. I really did—really do—have a lot of work to do.’
She bit her lip. Had they naively expected that the anger and resentment from their past would magically dissipate just because they’d started sleeping together again? If so, they’d been grievously mistaken. The fragile peace they’d shared for more than a week was over, and sadly she realised that it had been as illusory as every other aspect of their relationship.
‘But my advice would still be to contact Edmund.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I see. I suppose you think you know better than I do what’s best for my grandfather?’
Biting her lip, she nodded. ‘In this instance—yes. He’s worried about the cataloguing and Edmund can help him,’ she said simply. ‘Sometimes you just need a different point of view to solve the problem.’
Catching sight of the ineffably contemptuous sneer in his eyes, she felt a ripple of anger snake over her skin.
She took a deep breath. ‘You know, the trouble with you, Laszlo, is you’re just so certain you’re right you just can’t imagine that there might be another point of view.’
‘Not true.’ His voice was dangerously soft. ‘I know everything there is to know about other points of view. Particularly your uncle’s.’
There. He’d said it. It was as though he’d taken off a particularly scratchy sweater. She stared at him, her eyes blinking in time with her scattering thoughts. ‘What do you mean? You’ve never even spoken to my uncle. He spoke to your grandfather and Jakob.’
He smiled slowly and she felt the breath squeeze out of her lungs.
‘Not about the cataloguing...’ he said softly.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said faintly.
‘Then let me explain.’
His voice seemed to slice her bones away from her flesh and she felt her legs starting to sway.
‘Seven years ago I went to your home.’
Her head jerked up and, despite the pain in his own heart, he felt a sharp sting of satisfaction at the shock in her eyes.
He looked at her steadily. ‘I went to talk to you.’
Prudence’s heart seemed to stop. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said weakly.
‘That doesn’t stop it being true.’
His voice trapped her, pulled her in. ‘You’re lying,’ she whispered.
But she knew that he wasn’t, and her face felt hot, and she suddenly couldn’t breathe. Looking up, she saw the anger and the pride in his eyes. She took a step backwards.
Watching her back away, Laszlo felt a ripple of rage—even now she was trying to evade what she’d done.
‘Only you were out. Shopping...’ He spat the word out with derisive emphasis. ‘Shopping!’ There was a tense, choking silence and he shook his head. ‘How do you think that made me feel? To find out that while I was sitting in some stinking police station my wife was out shopping.’ He laughed without humour. ‘Sorry. My mistake. You didn’t actually think we were married, did you?’
She clenched her fists. She had resolved never to mention his arrest. But now his sneering contempt unleashed the pent-up fear and pain.
‘What should I have been doing? We were over. Your criminal activities were no concern of mine.’
‘They took me in for questioning. And then they released me without charge,’ he said slowly, his face tight with hostility. ‘Only you didn’t know because you were out shopping.’
She shook her head, trying to stay focused. He didn’t have the upper hand here—didn’t have it full stop! All he’d done was lie and deceive her.
She glowered at him. ‘We were over—’
‘We were not over. We’d had a row. Do you really think I’d just let you throw away our marriage like that?’ he said savagely. The air was quivering between them.
Prudence shook her head. ‘I asked you how much effort you’d give to make our relationship work.’ Her voice broke. ‘Do you know what your answer was? You said that any effort was too much!’
‘I was just angry with you! I’d just walked in the door. I was tired. I wanted a shower.’
Eyes blazing, she stepped towards him. ‘And that meant you could give up on our relationship?’
‘No. But as you keep on reminding me, I had to go to the police station!’ His mouth twisted. ‘I couldn’t leave. You, on the other hand, were free. I came to find you as soon as I got out. You didn’t come to see if I was all right.’ He stopped and shot her a look of pure exasperation. ‘I know that you didn’t think our marriage was real. And, yes, we’d broken up. But didn’t you feel bound to me in any way?’
The bitterness in his voice felt like a slap to her face.
There was a pulsing silence and then he shook his head. ‘I could never work out what had changed. You seemed different that day. Not yourself.’
Prudence stared at him, trying to keep her expression steady. She could feel something like panic building up inside her.
He gave her a long, hard look. ‘But then I met your uncle and it all kind of fell into place.’ Smiling grimly, he nodded. ‘You’re right about his opinions, by the way. I didn’t like what he had to say. In fact, I was quite upset by his point of view. But funnily enough I wasn’t surprised by it.’ He looked across at Prudence, his eyes glittering with sudden savage fury. ‘But then, how could I be? I’d already heard it before—hadn’t I?’
Prudence stared at him, frozen to the spot, struggling to swallow her shock. ‘I don’t understand...’ Her voice shrivelled as she felt the blistering anger of his gaze.
‘Oh, I think you do.’
There was a moment’s dead silence and then, in a voice that chilled her bones, he went on.
‘When I’m struggling with something, I always find it helpful to have another point of view.’
She felt the blood drain from her face as she recognised her own words.
Watching her reaction, he clenched his jaw. ‘It was quite eerie, actually. Hearing your words come out of his mouth. It was a faultless performance. You must have rehearsed a lot.’
‘N-no...’ Prudence stammered. ‘No. It wasn’t like that.’ She shivered as the temperature in the room plummeted.
‘It was exactly like that, Prudence. Or are you telling me he told you to stand by your man?’
Looking at her paper-white stricken face, he felt suddenly sick inside.
‘No. I thought not.’
A muscle flickered in his jaw and he regarded her for a long, excruciating moment.
‘You should have waited to hear what I had to say. But you didn’t. You chose to listen to someone who’d never met me. Who despised the very idea of me.’
Laszlo leant forward, his face dark with fury.
‘Do you know he called me a liar and a charlatan? Told me he knew all about my “sort”.’
He gave a humourless laugh and Prudence felt her cheeks burn. She shook her head desperately.
‘He didn’t mean because you’re a Romany,’ she mumbled.
Laszlo smiled derisively. ‘Please! Do you think I’m stupid?’
Miserably, Prudence shook her head. ‘No. But I know he wasn’t talking about that. He was just worried about me. About where it would all end. I think he thought I was turning into my mum.’
She looked away, fighting tears; fighting memories.
‘You’d been gone for ten days, Laszlo. I didn’t know what to think. I’d left so many messages, and then Edmund came home from work and found me crying.’ She gave a small strangled laugh. ‘I think it really scared him.’ She drew a jagged breath. ‘Especially because I hadn’t really told him and Daisy much about us. Just that I was seeing someone I’d met at the fair.’
Prudence stared blankly around the sitting room. ‘I did talk to Edmund, and he gave me advice. But he didn’t change my mind,’ she said slowly. ‘When I came looking for you—after I’d spoken to him�
��I still wanted us to work. I would have done anything to be with you.’ She paused and shivered, her lip trembling. ‘But, like I told you before, you didn’t even try and reassure me.’
Her voice petered out and Laszlo frowned. It was true. He hadn’t tried to reassure her. And he saw now that the repercussions of her parents’ bigamous marriage had affected not just Prudence but her aunt and uncle too. They had looked after her, brought her up. His breathing was suddenly harsh. How must it have felt for Edmund to see the girl he thought of as a daughter weeping hysterically over a man? A man who seemed in many ways to resemble her perfidious father?
Prudence took a breath and looked up at him sadly. ‘Edmund told me what he thought I should do. But he also said that the decision must be mine.’ She bit her lip and her eyes felt suddenly hot with tears. ‘And it was. You didn’t seem to care one way or another. That didn’t seem to be a good basis for a relationship. So I ended it.’
Her stomach was contorting, as though her misery was actually alive inside her.
‘Edmund didn’t wrong you. All he and Daisy have ever done is try and protect me. You can think what you like. The truth is our relationship ended not because of other people or their opinions but because the sum of what we held back was greater than what we shared. We only really shared our bodies.’
Laszlo stared at her in silence. She had never looked more beautiful or vulnerable. But for once he couldn’t lose himself in the soft beauty of her face. His skin was prickling with what he knew to be guilt. Guilt and regret. Having grown up in the shadow of her mother’s disastrous love affair, she’d met him before she’d had a chance to realise that she wasn’t her mother but her own person.
Now he understood just how lonely and frightened she must have felt when confronted by his baffling absences and moodiness. His head jerked up, his cheeks burning. He had told her he would never forgive her for what she’d done. Now he saw that it was he who needed forgiveness. He had been her lover and, in his mind at least, her husband. The one man who should have restored her faith in men and, more importantly, in herself.
And what had he done to reassure her?
Nothing.
Vows Made in Secret Page 11
