Wealthy Australian, Secret Son

by Margaret Way

  Rohan concluded his meeting much earlier than expected. A successful deal had been struck, with big gains for both sides. There were other pressing matters that needed his attention, but he was feeling uncommonly anxious. He knew he and Charlotte had to confront the Prescotts. They had a need and a right to know what he and Charlotte had planned. Charlotte believed the Prescotts already knew Christopher wasn’t Martyn’s child, but it would have to be stated at their meeting. Secrets might take years to come out, but they rarely remained secret for ever. In their case, with Christopher so closely resembling Rohan, discovery was imminent.

  He picked up the phone, requesting that the company helicopter—on stand-by—be ready for a return flight to the Valley. He needed to be with Charlotte. He felt deep inside him that life with Martyn had damaged her. That the once highly eligible and attractive Martyn Prescott, admired by many young women in the Valley, while full of fun and good company, had apparently not matured into a strong character. He had never apologised to him or his mother for the damaging scenario he had come up with for that tragic day on the river. That was the problem with Martyn. He couldn’t accept responsibility for his actions. Martyn had made life far harder for Rohan and his innocent mother. He had turned Charlotte’s mother against them. The outright lies and the half truths had left unresolvable griefs.

  The Prescott housekeeper, Mrs Ellory, was passing through the entrance hall of High Grove as Rohan approached the front door. Vivian Marsdon had directed him there.

  “Charlotte wanted to assure them Chrissie is safe. Also to thank Gordon, if he’s around, for his efforts,” Marsdon had said.

  That piece of news had hit Rohan like an actual blow. “You shouldn’t have let her go, sir. I told Charlotte when she decided it was time to talk to the Prescotts I would go with her. How long ago did she leave?”

  “Not five minutes.” Vivian had been thoroughly flustered. “That’s why I’m so very surprised to see you. We thought you were staying in Sydney.”

  “I had concerns. Intuitions. Anyway, I can’t stop. I’m going after her. Could I borrow your car?”

  “Of course. I’ll get the keys.”

  “Well, this is a day for nice surprises.” Mrs Ellory came to the door to greet him. “You look marvellous, Rohan. I couldn’t be more thrilled you’re back in the Valley. People are quite excited by your plans. More jobs. More prosperity.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Mrs Ellory,” Rohan said, and, getting to the point, “Do you know where Charlotte is?”

  “They’re in the Garden Room—at the back of the house.” She looked into Rohan Costello’s blazing eyes. The boy Christopher had eyes like that. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m glad you’re here. Charlotte needs support in this house. Do you want me to take you through?”

  “I’ll go the back way, Mrs Ellory. It’s shorter.”

  “And you’ll be able to gauge how things are going,” she whispered back. “I only stay for Mr Prescott, you know. Mrs Prescott has turned into a very bitter woman. As for Nicole…!” She rolled her eyes.

  Rohan gave her quick salute, then ran down a short flight of stone steps. He could hear raised voices as he rounded the side of the house.

  Nicole. Such a difficult creature, Nicole. Martyn had inherited all the looks and the charm in the family.

  “You’re the very opposite of the way you look and sound!” the jealous and insecure young woman was lashing out.

  “Oh, Nicole, do be quiet,” her mother cut in sharply, as if to a child. “You brought nothing but suffering to my son, Charlotte. You couldn’t face the world pregnant and unmarried, and Costello was nowhere around. But Martyn was. Martyn adored you. God knows why, when you were so involved with Costello. And Costello was dirt-poor. He had nothing. His mother struggled just to put food on the table. I paid her more than she was worth.”

  “Are you serious?” Charlotte countered, in a clear, firm voice.

  Rohan knew perfectly well the right thing to do was to go in and announce himself. Instead he stood frozen, able to hear perfectly but unable to be seen. Maybe in staying where he was he could make some sense of everything that had transpired. Charlotte was keeping so much from him. It might advantage him to stay where he was until it became obvious she needed his help.

  “You never overpaid anyone, Lesley. A plain statement of fact. You were tight-fisted with everyone but Martyn. Nicole missed out. You owed her far more time and attention. Gordon was the kind, generous one—”

  “None of your business any more,” Lesley Prescott cut her off, affronted. “So, you and Costello intend to marry?”

  “That’s what I’ve come to tell you, Lesley. You have a right to know.”

  “Oh, how simply wonderful that you think so!” Lesley Prescott crowed. “May I ask when the great day is to be?”

  “Early next year.”

  “No doubt with your son as pageboy?” she sneered. “You take comfort where you can find it, don’t you, Charlotte? Costello has made quite a name for himself now.”

  “You know he’s Christopher’s father?”

  There was a terrible note in Lesley Prescott’s voice. “We didn’t know at the beginning. We knew you and Martyn were dating when Costello wasn’t around. You used my son.”

  “I didn’t use Martyn,” Charlotte said sadly. “I thought he was my friend—”

  “And threw in a little sex,” Nicole broke in with malice. “You’d been getting plenty with Costello. You must have missed it when he was away. Martyn was there. He was stupid enough to stay in love with you. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Use men.”

  High time to announce his presence, Rohan decided—only Charlotte’s answer riveted him to the spot.

  “It was Martyn who used me, Nicole.”

  No mistaking the utter gravity of her tone.

  “Which means exactly what?” Lesley Prescott barked out. “You got caught out, didn’t you? You never meant to fall pregnant by my son. It was always Costello you wanted.”

  “Always,” Charlotte agreed. “How could I possibly have turned to Martyn after Rohan? Martyn was a liar. Lying was part of his nature. And it started early. It was Martyn who challenged Mattie to swim the river.”

  “Oh, yeah!” Nicole burst out, ample chest heaving.

  “You knew your brother more than you care to admit, Nicole. You know he hit me. Not in the early years, but towards the end, when he was so unhappy. You know, but you don’t dare speak the truth in front of your mother.”

  Lesley Prescott’s face, like Charlotte’s, was showing the depth of her upset. “Now it’s your turn to lie,” she cried. “My son would never do such a thing. I never saw any evidence of abuse. It wouldn’t have been tolerated. Martyn adored you, even when he was off with women hardly more than prostitutes.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, Lesley. I’m sorry I told you.” Charlotte gave vent to a weary sigh.

  “If my son struck you, you must have deserved it.” Lesley Prescott launched into mitigation. In truth, she was shocked by the idea Martyn might have struck his beautiful wife. “You were withholding your marital obligations. You weren’t a proper wife to him. Did you never consider he had saved you from a scandal? He married you. He thought the child was his. We all did.’

  “I did too, Lesley,” Charlotte responded soberly. “I was so ill-informed in those days I made a huge mistake. Rohan remains the love of my life. I was on the pill when I was with him. We couldn’t afford for me to fall pregnant. I didn’t realise at the time things can go wrong. I had a bout of sickness that interfered with the efficacy of the pill. I didn’t know then. I know now.”

  “So you didn’t take the pill with Martyn? Is that it?” Lesley scoffed, unable to abandon the pretence that her son had been perfect.

  “With Rohan away, I stopped. There was no reason to keep on taking it until Rohan returned.”

  “What a risk you took with Martyn, then!” Lesley said bitterly. “You fed off his admiration and love. You seduc
ed him, didn’t you?”

  “You were missing all that hot sex.” Nicole, who had never had sex—hot or cold—laughed crudely.

  “Do shut up, Nicole. Get a life. Do something about yourself,” Charlotte told her—not without pity. She turned to her ex-mother-in-law. “I’m truly sorry, Lesley, for all the tragic things that have happened. I grieved for Martyn too, you know.”

  Lesley glared at her darkly. “Rubbish! In the olden days, Charlotte Marsdon, you would have been burned at the stake.”

  Something in Rohan snapped. He moved swiftly, the heart torn out of him.

  “Look me in the face and tell me you’re lying!” Lesley Prescott was crying. “You seduced my son. You probably got a huge kick out of it. After all, he worshipped the ground you walked on. You had to have him too.”

  Charlotte spoke so quietly Rohan could barely hear what she was saying. Then it hit him with horrified amazement.

  “Martyn raped me.”

  He staggered as if at a king hit.

  Martyn, their friend from early childhood, had raped her?

  Inside the room Lesley Prescott was going berserk, also horrified by that word. “Liar!” she shouted, waving her arms wildly in the air. “What do you think, Nicole?” Charlotte gave the younger woman a chance to redeem herself. “You’re the one person who knows what Martyn was like. Rohan doesn’t know. I was too ashamed to tell him.”

  “Good!” Nicole actually looked a little crazy. “Why didn’t you watch out for him, you fool?”

  Lesley Prescott made a yelping sound, rounding on her daughter, astounded. “What in God’s name are you talking about?”

  “Wake up, Mum,” Nicole said with undisguised contempt. “You and your Martyn. Your can-do-no-wrong son. Martyn was a bastard. I knew he was hitting Charlotte. It must have been awful for her. I knew he’d forced sex on her. He told me. He boasted about it. How else was he going to get her away from Rohan Costello?”

  So there it is, Rohan’s inner voice said. The direst of secrets revealed.

  Hot blood rose like a tide, forming a red mist before his eyes. His beautiful Charlotte. He hadn’t been there to protect or defend her. She would have trusted Martyn. If Martyn weren’t dead, he thought he would kill him.

  Eyes ablaze, Rohan rapped hard on the glass door with his knuckles, startling all three women. They turned their heads in unison, all three appalled.

  “What a contemptible creature you are, Nicole,” he said. “In your own way you’re as guilty as your cowardly brother. Time to go, Charlotte.” He issued the command. “I told you not to come here without me. These people have never done you any good.”

  Lesley Prescott felt intimidated to the bone. When exactly had young Rohan Costello become such a commanding figure? “How dare you come into my home unannounced?” she asked hoarsely.

  “That wasn’t my intention, Mrs Prescott. Only one never knows what one might learn by staying out of sight. I’d intended to announce myself—only in following your riveting conversation I have been able to learn the truth. Charlotte was protecting your sick bully of a son, Mrs Prescott. Think of the nobility of that. She kept silent. A mother herself, she didn’t want to hurt you. You can only blame yourself for provoking her now. And I’m glad. Because now we have the truth of why Charlotte married Martyn. She believed herself pregnant by him. She believed marrying him was the proper course to take. Her parents failed her. I failed her—going so far away, leaving cunning, manipulative Martyn to seize his moment. It was always his way. Charlotte provided a few clues along the way, but I was so self-involved I was blind to them. Martyn was a coward, and a traitor to our lifelong friendship.”

  As Rohan moved further into the room both Prescott women stumbled back.

  When exactly had Martyn turned bad? Lesley Prescott asked herself. How much of it was her fault? “Martyn is dead,” she said, her face contorted with pain.

  It took everything Rohan had to fall back on forgiveness. For the mother. Not the son. “Despite all the pain Martyn inflicted on us, Mrs Prescott, Charlotte and I are saddened by that. Come here to me, Charlotte.” He held out an imperative hand.

  Charlotte rushed to him, desperate for his comfort.

  “The Valley will never accept you,” Lesley Prescott told them heavily.

  Rohan returned her a cool, confident look. “You’re wrong about that, Mrs Prescott. I have big plans for the Valley. My enterprises will be creating a lot of jobs, and the von Luckners have come on board with their great expertise. Charlotte Vale will be producing ultra-premium wines. I have plans for the olive groves as well. Plans for a first-class restaurant. I think you’ll find the Valley more than happy about it all after they absorb the initial shock that Christopher is my son. But then, I think a lot of people already know. We really should present some sort of a united front, Mrs Prescott. Charlotte and I want no enmity. The one person you should be angry at—the one person who betrayed us all—is Martyn. And your daughter definitely needs counselling. Jealousy is a cancer. She needs treatment. Neither of you should want to make an enemy of me,” he warned, his hand tightening on Charlotte’s. “Time to leave, Charlotte. It’s over now.”

  “Are you okay to drive?” Rohan asked as they walked to her car. She was as pale as a lily.

  “I’m fine, Rohan. Don’t worry about me.” She looked away to her father’s Mercedes. “Dad lent it to you?”

  “No problem. I took the chopper from Sydney. I was anxious about you. What time do you pick up Christopher?” He opened her car door, waiting for her to get behind the wheel.

  “I’m always there ten minutes early, so two-fifty.”

  “I’ll come with you. Follow me back to Riverbend.”

  She should have felt as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Instead she wondered what Rohan thought of her under his mask of gentleness and concern. However much he understood, his respect for her would have plummeted. She had never intended to tell him what Martyn had done. She had wanted to keep her self-respect.

  It was well-documented the world over that innocent victims of abuse—physical and mental—can feel an irrational, yet powerful sense of guilt.

  Charlotte had been one of them—much like an abused child. But the dark cloud that had hung over her for so long was about to be totally dispersed.

  Mrs Burch opened the front door. She looked surprised to see them, noting with concern that both of them looked what she later described to her husband as “traumatised”.

  “Tea, thank you, Louise.” Rohan kept a steadying hand on Charlotte. “We’ll have it in the library.”

  Mrs Burch hurried away. All sorts of strange things were happening in the Valley. Beautiful Charlotte Prescott was clearly in shock. But if she was in any kind of trouble she had come to the right man.

  Mrs Burch soon returned, wheeling a trolley set with tea things and a plate of home-baked cookies. She withdrew quietly, shutting the library door after her.

  Rohan poured Charlotte a cup of tea. He added a little milk and two teaspoons of sugar, even though he knew she didn’t take sugar in her tea. “Drink it down.”

  She responded with a quiet little smile.

  Rohan took his tea black, but at the last moment added a teaspoon of sugar. “I need it,” he said laconically, sinking into one of the burgundy leather armchairs that surrounded a reading table.

  He allowed Charlotte to finish her tea in peace, then took the cup and saucer from her, leading her to the sofa.

  “You’re in no way to blame, Charlotte.” He covered her hands with his own. “As I said to Mrs Prescott, we all failed you when you desperately needed help. I should accept the blame as I never considered for a moment that Martyn would force himself on you. My trust in him was woefully misplaced. Martyn always had his problems, but I never believed he would hurt you. What a fool I’ve been!” He sighed deeply. “The closest friends have been known to turn into aggressors, even murderers. But Martyn! What a catastrophe! You didn’t think to let me know?�
��

  She didn’t lift her head, though relief was intensifying in her.

  “You didn’t think to go to my mother?” he continued, stroking her hand. “I know you couldn’t go to yours!”

  Charlotte spoke up. “I began to experience morning sickness very early on, Rohan. I knew what was happening to me. I believed I was pregnant by Martyn. How could I let you of all people know? I had betrayed our love. How could I go to your mother, tell her I was carrying Martyn Prescott’s baby? I could never put voice to the fact he had forced me. I was suffering such shame. I did know Martyn had always been in love with me. I felt I should have foreseen the danger. Afterwards he couldn’t have been more contrite. More sad and sorry.”

  “They all are!” Rohan said grimly.

  “I suppose… Martyn broke down in tears, begging me to forgive him. I tried hard, but I did keep some part of myself remote.”

  “The sad and sorry bit doesn’t jell with Nicole’s damning comments.”

  “No. But he did need my love, Rohan. He begged for it. I tried to enter his world. It was a disaster. As time went on his attitude changed. Became belligerent.”

  “He began to hit you.” Rohan was barely holding down his rage. “How low can a man sink? But then he wasn’t a man, was he?”

  “In many ways he was like a greedy child who needed instant gratification. But what he did weighed very heavily on him I think.”

  Rohan couldn’t conceal his disgust. “Stop making excuses for Martyn, Charlotte.”

  She looked into his blazing eyes. “Maybe it lessens my guilt.”