Judgement by Fire

by Lydia Grace

  “Oh, shucks, she’ll never learn,” Jane and Lucy said in unison, rolling their eyes in disbelief.

  *

  He’d been looking forward to a peaceful day off spent riding around his farm, but now the idea rapidly lost its appeal. He watched Lauren drive away with her friends and thought his heart would break. He’d felt the same burst of sharp grief when he’d seen her at Stephen’s funeral, not knowing whether she was there out of grief for his dead cousin, out of support for him, or as therapy for her own shattered nerves. The idea that she might hold him responsible for Stephen’s death had taken root early, reflecting his own sense of guilt. Just now, seeing her laughing with the young man who’d driven his truck, Jon felt his sense that she was better off, safer, without him, was confirmed.

  Patiently, he took the Palomino back to his stable, undid the tack, and brushed the beautiful beast down. Then he went into the house, showered, changed into a business suit, and was at the door with his briefcase when Mary caught him.

  “You’re not going to work, are you?” she asked.

  “Yes, there are a few things I need to see to at the office.”

  “And quite a few things you need to see to outside the office,” she told him bluntly.

  “Don’t start, Mary,” he replied tightly, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Mary listened to the sound of his vehicle hum down the driveway, then looking down at the ‘twin’ Labrador pups at her feet, she muttered, “We’ll see about that.”

  Purposefully, the dogs hopping at her heels, she strode through the house to the study and seated herself at Jon’s desk. Her eyes fell on his daybook diary and the small stack of invitations clipped to the following week’s page. Dragging the phone towards her and ignoring the papers she scattered around, she pulled a business card from her skirt pocket and began to dial.

  *

  Lucy was taking a nap in the hotel room she was sharing with Lauren when the mobile phone in her jacket pocket jingled its merry little tune. As soon as she recognized the caller, she lowered her voice.

  “That’s very interesting, yes, indeed,” she said. “I think we can do that. You say Jane Rollands is also on the board? That’s quite a coincidence, because we’re having dinner with her tonight. Oh, yes, leave that to me. I quite agree…”

  Thoughtfully, she closed the instrument down and lay back on the bed. Lauren, toweling her hair as she stepped into the room from the shower, said, “Has anyone ever told you what a silly tune your mobile plays when it rings?”

  “Yes, you, just now.” Lucy said, laughing. “That was just…er, Paul, wanting to know if I could get him flannelette pajamas.”

  Lauren laughed. “Okay, don’t tell me. Is everything all right?”

  “Oh, yes, I think it’s going to be just fine.”

  Later that evening at dinner, Lucy waited for Lauren to excuse herself to visit the powder room, then spoke rapidly to Jane. The other woman’s face lit up mischievously as Lucy finished her piece.

  “Oh, yes, I’m quite sure between us, we can do this.” Then her face clouded over. “But are you really sure we should? She’s been through so much, and what if the creep cuts her dead?”

  “You know the man. Do you think he’s the type to do that?” Lucy asked urgently.

  “No, but then I wouldn’t have said he’d be a coward, either, and obviously, I’m wrong. The guy’s behaving like a Class A Yellow Jerk.”

  “Well, I think maybe he has reasons that we don’t know about.”

  “Who’s behaving like a Class A Yellow Jerk, and what don’t we know about?” Lauren asked suspiciously, returning to the table.

  “I was just telling Lucy about this client of mine. Seems he can’t get to grips with reality,” Jane said smoothly, flashing a warning glance at Lucy, who changed the subject to a request for the dessert cart.

  “Oh, God, no, I couldn’t. Not when I’m shopping for the kind of dress that’ll take the edge off the way the rest of me looks. I certainly don’t need ten extra pounds of chocolate cake on my hips to add to my other troubles,” Lauren moaned.

  Lucy and Jane both looked at her in disgust, mouthing the same epithet and earning startled glances from the waiter who was just passing.

  “Er, is anything wrong, ladies?” he asked, trepidation making his handsome young face serious.

  “No, not at all. We’d just like three servings of your raspberry cheesecake, with whipped cream,” Lucy ordered, ignoring the groans of the other two. The waiter smiled, promising to bring their orders immediately.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, not the whipped cream,” Jane moaned, smoothing her skirt over her rounded hips. “That was vicious.”

  “Well, I had to do something to take our minds off how attractive the waiters in the place are. I didn’t want us disgracing ourselves in public,” Lucy answered, reducing her companions to giggles with a lascivious look.

  *

  “Look, Jon, I know it’s very soon after…after Stephen’s death, but you can’t keep hiding from everyone. Especially in view of the circumstances,” Jane Rollands said, well aware that the man on the other end of the line was bristling defensively. Crossing her fingers behind her back, she added, “you are on the board, in your mother’s place, and the more of us show up, the better. You’d be doing me an enormous favor, too. It’s a dinner dance and I seem to find myself embarrassingly without a convenient partner right now.”

  Reluctantly, Jon agreed. He’d go to the dinner dance with Jane, but make his excuses early and leave. The last thing he wanted to do was risk meeting Lauren Stephens there, for both their sakes. And he knew Mary had told him she’d spoken briefly to Lucy to inquire how Lauren was coping and had been told that she was resting and getting her strength back. So it wasn’t likely she’d show up to something as hectic as an arts committee dance. Besides, he liked Jane, had found her good company at the events they’d both attended in the past. With her openness and straightforward approach, she even reminded him a little of Lauren. And in her astute way, she was right. He did need to get out and about a little to take the edge of the scandalous gossip that had mushroomed around Stephen’s death.

  He massaged aching temples with long fingers and dragged his concentration back to the papers on his desk. He needed to get through these soon, if he was going to have time to change into something suitable for the evening…

  *

  The telephone in the hotel room buzzed discreetly as Lucy and Lauren were dressing for the evening and Lauren moved to answer it.

  She smiled as she recognized the caller and putting down the receiver told Lucy, “That was Jane. It seems she’s going to be a bit late and she said she’d meet us as the reception. Apparently, the sly old thing has a hot date she wants to show off

  and she’s picking him up on the way over tonight.”

  Lucy bent close to the mirror to fiddle with her mascara, hoping Lauren wouldn’t see the guilty look that flashed across her face.

  “That’s good,” she said indulgently. “Jane’s a nice girl; she should find someone interesting and settle down.”

  Lauren was silent for a moment, thinking longingly of how she’d thought, for a few blissful days, that she’d found someone for herself. Even now, she was startled to remember how easily she’d accepted the idea of having Jon as a permanent fixture in her life, and thought achingly of the hopes and dreams that had been so much a part of that acceptance. But it was all in the past and she had to get on with her life, however desperately lonely a prospect that might seem now.

  “Well, I’m glad for her and must say, I’m relieved, too. For a little while there, with you and Jane always muttering at each other, I thought maybe you were cooking up something I wouldn’t like.”

  “Come on, Lauren, such as what?” Lucy asked, wide-eyed.

  “That’s just it,” Lauren replied thoughtfully. “I was damned if I could figure it out…and don’t you know that wide-eyed innocent look doesn’t suit you at all? Any
way, Jane’s news solves that puzzle. How do you think this dress looks? Truthfully?”

  Lauren pivoted slowly, examining herself in the mirror as she smoothed the soft silken fabric of the emerald green dress over her waist and hips.

  “I think you look like a million dollars, which is probably as well, considering that that dress cost a fortune!” Lucy declared as her heart ached as she took in her friend’s tired face, the echoes of sadness shadowing her green eyes.

  “Don’t remind me! Lord, I’ll be living on baked beans for years, just to pay for this, to say nothing of where am I going to get the money to rent another place. You know, I think maybe I’ll find an apartment, perhaps even travel for awhile. I’ve always wanted to go to Europe again.”

  Lucy turned a shocked face towards her. “You’re not thinking of leaving Haverford Castle, are you?”

  Lauren answered slowly. “I don’t see I’ve much choice, do you? Not only do I have to come to terms with these memories, but I doubt there’ll be a studio coming vacant in the next little while, even if the new owners allow things to carry on until they make a definite decision about the redevelopment. Besides, I thought maybe I’d look for a new line of work.”

  “My God, Lauren, what are you talking about? You know you’ve a God-given talent for what you do. You have vision, for Heaven’s sake! To take a career break at this point would be madness, after all the work you’ve put in! Surely you remember how hard you had to fight for the freedom to follow your talent—even down to ditching your husband!” Lucy’s eyes narrowed with suppressed fury. “This is because of that creep Jon Rush, isn’t it? He’s broken your heart, and now you’re going to let him steal your life as well!”

  Lauren sat on the edge of her bed, fiddling with the clasp of her evening bag and refusing to meet Lucy’s eyes.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. It’s just that, ever since that day in the woods, I’ve lost that—that vision, as you call it. There’s nothing there anymore, Lucy. So I need to move on. But you know what’s ironic? I don’t think I’ll ever find a place I’ll love as well as Haverford Castle.”

  Lucy’s eyes filled with tears, and she crossed the room to put her arms around her friend. She couldn’t think of anything to say that would comfort the other woman and was relieved when Lauren said lightly, “There is some good news, though!”

  “Thank goodness, tell me right away!” Lucy demanded, stepping back to the mirror to examine her tear-damaged make-up, her heart still sinking at the thought of Lauren moving away.

  “The color of this dress exactly matches the bruises on my cheeks!” Lauren grinned, and ducked as Lucy threw the hairbrush as her.

  *

  Jon entered the big banquet room with Jane by his side, greeting a few friends and acquaintances, and marveling at how normal everything seemed. In this rich and cocooned ambience, it was almost possible to imagine that the cataclysmic events that had torn his life apart had never happened. Even with a beautiful woman by his side, it was possible to almost forget the beautiful woman who haunted his dreams and left him sleepless and drained.

  So it came like a sucker punch to the gut when the woman herself appeared, like a vision, seated at the table Jane was steadfastly leading them towards. He had only a moment to think how much he had loved her, then she turned those extraordinary green eyes his way and his chest began to pound. With a mighty effort, he retained his composure, speaking quietly to Lucy and pulling out a chair for Jane. As she seated herself, he whispered in her ear, “You set this up deliberately, didn’t you?”

  Jane, startled by the emotion in his voice, glanced at him anxiously and nodded.

  “Well, it won’t work,” Jon ground out moving to his own seat.

  However, Lucy, watching the exchange, noted that the tall blond man’s eyes had never moved from Lauren’s face, and his look betrayed the depth of feeling he still held for Lauren. Whether he would find the strength to do anything about it was the question. She and Jane had done all they could. It was up to Jon and Lauren now.

  Lauren had thought she was coping with the evening amazingly well, parrying the discreet queries about her recovery from that ‘terrible ordeal’ without falling into the trap of giving the inquirers the lurid details they were fishing for. In fact, she was actually starting to relax when her internal antenna warned her of Jon’s nearness. Looking up, the smile froze on her face as she saw him walking towards their table, Jane on his arm. A jealous pang flashed through her, then logic took over.

  “So that’s what all the whispering in corners was about,” she said sternly to Lucy, but she found it hard to maintain the anger when she saw the caring look on her friend’s face. Instead, she was flooded with despair. She had seen the anger cross Jon’s face when he saw her at the table and realized there was no matching response in him to the fast tattoo of pleasure her own pulses had played on first seeing him.

  “It won’t work, Lucy,” she said sadly.

  So, taking her cue from Jon, she tried to play things as casually as he was, paying attention to her fellow dinner guests and chatting brightly. She knew however his relaxed manner was only skin deep and the coiled tension inside him seemed to glitter in the air between them. Several times tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the stiff set of his shoulders and the white rim around his mouth as he courteously accepted condolences for the death of his cousin from acquaintances who paused by the table.

  Lauren felt his pain and grief in her own heart, and wished there was something she could do to spare him the ordeal she knew he must face at every public gathering. But there was nothing he wanted from her. Yet she could, at least, remove from him any burden of guilt he might be feeling on her behalf by continuing her masquerade of a happy and relaxed woman. When the time came, she walked proudly and gracefully up to the podium to accept the elegant figured silver award for the most promising wildlife artist from John O’Keefe, co-owner of the gallery and chairman of the board of directors of the voluntary body which judged the work and presented the awards.

  Her friends gathered around to exclaim over the award and offer congratulations, and Lauren basked briefly in the admiration of her fellow artists. However, when a large hand descended on her shoulder and a well-loved voice spoke in her ear, her heart took off into a pounding orbit that had little to do with pride in her achievements.

  Dreamlike, she allowed herself to be drawn onto the dance floor, her every sense responding to the nearness of Jon’s hard body pressed against her own. Once again she breathed in the sensual scent of him, shampoo, soap, and clean, warm male, and her traitorous body molded itself to his in the dance. Unfortunately, her pleasure was to be short-lived.

  “I take it you didn’t have anything to do with planning this charade?” Jon asked brusquely, his fingers splayed against her bare back in an intimate gesture while his eyes were hard and cold on her face.

  “Of course not. Believe me, if I’d known you would be here, I’d have stayed home with a good book,” she answered waspishly. “And when I get my so-called friends alone, they’ll get a tongue lashing like you wouldn’t believe.”

  His face softened for a moment and his eyes lit with humor. “I bet you’ll just do that, too,” he said, smiling.

  Lauren wished he wouldn’t smile because it was making it harder and harder to maintain her composure. If he looked down at her any longer with that flicker of laughter in his eyes, she’d either throw herself on him in front of the whole damned room full of people, or run howling out into the crisp spring night. Either way, it would be a source of gossip amongst Toronto’s upper echelons for months to come.

  “You’re beautiful when you smile,” his voice was like warm maple syrup, running sweetly over her senses. She had to make him stop.

  “Jon, I look awful—like I’ve been run down by a bus. Oh!” her eyes widened as she realized what she’d said. Quietly, she continued, “I’m sorry, that sounded crass in the circumstances. How is Pippa Williams?”

&n
bsp; Jon’s eyes were dark, focused inwards, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. “Pippa is doing very well. She’s still in hospital but undergoing physiotherapy and it looks as though she’ll be left with a slight limp. But, as she says herself, she’s pretty lucky to still be alive. She’s raring, in fact, to get back to work.”

  “I think possibly getting back to something as near to normal as possible is what we all need,” Lauren said, while her heart cried out that her life would never be normal again.

  As if he had read her thoughts, Jon stood still, holding her to him even though the dance music had stopped moments before. “That brings me to something I’d like to talk to you about,” he said, studying her face.

  Lauren expelled a long breath as hope flared in her heart.

  “You’re still on that residents’ committee, and there are some business issues surrounding Haverford Castle that I need to settle.” Jon’s voice washed over her, cool and impersonal, and Lauren’s fingers twitched with the desire to pound his chest in her frustration and hurt.

  All she said was, “I’ll call a meeting of the committee if you tell me when it’s convenient.”

  “No, I don’t want to meet with the committee. This is mostly to do with the structure replacing your studio, and I think we have to discuss compensation.”

  “I’ve already told you, I don’t want your money!” Lauren said through clenched teeth.

  “Nevertheless, there is a contract between yourself and Haverford Castle, and the terms of that contract have been transferred to us as the new owners. You have certain liabilities under that contract, including the insuring and maintenance of the property you were inhabiting.”

  “God, you sound like some legal contract yourself,” Lauren flung at him, pulling herself out of his arms. “If you really have something to say that can’t be done through the mail, I’m staying at Jane Rollands’ tonight, we could have lunch tomorrow.”

  “No, I don’t want to meet you here in Toronto. I’ll come out to West River, two days from now—about 5 p.m. okay?” Jon’s voice was still cool, as if he was simply making another business appointment, and Lauren’s blood boiled.