The Blackmail Pregnancy

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘Sensible of you,’ Megan answered. ‘But I’ll feel happier when you’re out of his house.’

  ‘What about his bed?’ Cara’s eyes sparked with a challenge of her own. ‘Is that off limits too?’

  Megan’s face was almost puce with anger. She opened her mouth to say something, but just then Fliss waddled over, interrupting the tense little tableau.

  ‘You’ve just got to have some of these,’ she said, waving a plate of elegantly assembled sushi towards Cara.

  ‘Mmm,’ Cara took one and popped it in her mouth.

  ‘What about you, Megan?’ Fliss brandished the plate under Megan’s nose. ‘Fancy some raw fish?’

  Megan looked as if she was going to be sick.

  ‘No,’ she said on a choked gasp. ‘Excuse me…’

  Once she’d gone Fliss licked her fingers and put the plate on one of the side tables before taking the chair beside Cara. Cara watched as she wriggled into a comfortable position, her hands coming to rest on the taut mound of her belly.

  ‘What did Megan want?’ Fliss asked.

  Cara hesitated. She didn’t want to be the one to burst the Rockcliffe bubble where Megan was concerned.

  ‘Nothing much.’

  Fliss gave her a wry look.

  ‘You can tell me. I know what she’s up to.’

  Cara gave her a startled glance.

  ‘You do?’

  Fliss nodded and stroked her belly once more. Cara watched in fascination as a tiny foot-shaped lump appeared under the tight drum of Fliss’s clothing.

  ‘Want a feel?’

  She took Cara’s free hand and placed it on the wriggling foot.

  ‘Wow!’ Her eyes were wide as she met Fliss’s amused gaze. ‘Doesn’t that hurt?’

  Fliss smiled.

  ‘Not half as much as it’s going to in a few short weeks.’

  Cara returned her hand to stroke Clare’s back, where she still lay snuggled against her.

  ‘Are…are you nervous?’

  Fliss shook her head.

  ‘Not really. I believe in using drugs—lots of them. I was so out of it when Thomas was born—high as a kite, in fact. No sense in suffering unnecessarily. I felt three contractions and immediately called for help.’

  Cara couldn’t help smiling at Fliss’s matter-of-factness. Great-Aunt Milly’s blood had certainly got around!

  Fliss swivelled in her seat, her eyes holding Cara’s.

  ‘Don’t let Megan win this.’

  Cara swallowed.

  ‘Win what?’

  Fliss gave her a long, assessing look before speaking.

  ‘Megan is desperate to tie Byron to her. She’ll do anything to bring it about.’

  ‘Anything?’

  Fliss gave her another long look.

  ‘Some people go to the most extraordinary lengths to achieve their goals. Don’t forget I’ve studied just about every personality type on earth. Megan will stop at nothing to get what she wants.’

  Cara forced her features into impassivity as she returned Fliss’s direct gaze.

  ‘Then it’s very fortunate that Megan and I don’t want the same thing, isn’t it?’

  ‘Are you sure about that, Cara?’ Fliss asked. ‘Really sure?’

  Cara’s eyes shifted to the sleeping child in her lap.

  ‘I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.’

  There was an awkward little silence.

  ‘He doesn’t love her, you know,’ Fliss stated baldly.

  ‘He must feel something for her,’ Cara managed to say, with an outward calm she was privately proud of. ‘She’s been a part of his life ever since they shared a bath. Now she’s working for him as well. It would certainly be a convenient move on both their parts to formalise their relationship.’

  Fliss rolled her lips together thoughtfully.

  ‘Look, I realise you’re an only child, and the intimacy of family life is something outside of your experience, but even Leon and Patrick have shared a bath with her. She was here all the time while we were growing up. My mother and hers went to school together. Since Stella died Mum has more or less adopted Megan.’

  ‘Even more reason for me to get out of the picture.’

  ‘No,’ Fliss insisted. ‘Everyone is so over the “Megan must marry Byron” phase.’

  ‘Everyone, that is, except Megan,’ Cara pointed out dryly.

  Fliss’s smooth brow furrowed.

  ‘Don’t you care about him any more?’ she asked.

  Cara lowered her gaze, concentrating on the silken head still resting against her breast.

  ‘What I feel or don’t feel is irrelevant to this conversation,’ she said.

  Fliss threw her a disdainful look and struggled to her feet.

  ‘I used to so admire you, Cara,’ she said. ‘I thought you were courageous and strong, but you’re not. You’d rather throw away your own happiness than face a confrontation. What the hell happened to you?’

  Cara fought against the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. Her voice, however, was devoid of emotion as she looked at Byron’s sister across the top of the sleeping child’s head.

  ‘Life happened.’

  The tense moment was interrupted by the approach of Jason. He slipped an arm around his wife’s middle and greeted Cara warmly. Cara was so grateful for the reprieve that her own greeting bordered on the effusive. With a hard little look Cara’s way, Fliss excused herself with needing the bathroom.

  ‘Where’s your little boy?’ Cara broke the small silence that had fallen between them on Fliss’s exit.

  ‘He’s asleep,’ Jason informed her. ‘Like all good children should be.’ He indicated the sleeping bundle in her arms.

  Cara smiled and stroked the little girl’s back.

  ‘I knew my boring old personality would come to some use some time,’ she quipped.

  Another silence fell. Cara was almost certain Jason was going to ask her what her little tiff with Fliss had been about. She was busily rehearsing a parcel of lies when he asked instead, ‘Can I get you a drink or something?’

  She opened her mouth to reply just as Olivia joined them.

  ‘Here.’ Olivia reached down for her daughter. ‘I’ll pop her into bed so you can circulate a bit. Thanks so much for looking after her. Ben and Bethany think you’re a genius because Clare usually cries for half an hour before going to sleep.’

  Cara gave Jason an I-told-you-I-was-boring glance as she handed Clare over.

  ‘Thomas down?’ Olivia asked her brother-in-law.

  ‘Out for the count.’

  ‘Two down and four to go,’ Olivia said with a grin.

  ‘I promised to finish a story for Katie and Kirstie,’ Cara said, getting to her feet.

  ‘They’re still partying,’ Olivia said. ‘Jase, get Cara a drink and make her relax. I don’t know where Byron’s got to. Have you seen him?’

  ‘I think he’s taking Megan back to her hotel. She wasn’t feeling very well,’ Jason answered.

  ‘Oh?’ Olivia’s expression was speculative. ‘I wonder what brought that on.’

  Cara felt in no mood to contribute to the discussion, so, excusing herself, made her way towards the kitchen in search of a glass of water. She was just passing the small breakfast room off the kitchen when she heard her name spoken. Despising herself for listening, and yet unable to stop herself, she stood just outside the door, pretending to be interested in the family portrait in front of her in the hall.

  ‘…terrible when you think of it,’ an older female voice was saying. ‘She left him after only four months of marriage. One of Byron’s friends saw her a couple of months later, looking suspiciously pregnant, but when he caught sight of her two weeks later she was flat as a pancake.’

  ‘Oh?’ The other voice lifted with increasing intrigue. ‘Don’t tell me she had an…’

  A word Cara couldn’t quite catch passed between them, but she knew without hearing exactly what it was.

  CHAP
TER TEN

  THE picture in front of her blurred and her fingertips started to tingle as if she was going to pass out.

  ‘How dreadful!’ another voice chimed in, obviously relishing the juicy gossip. ‘What a shameless hussy, to come back in the family fold as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She must be after his money. He’s loaded, you know. His property developing business has really taken off in the last few years.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure it’s all about money,’ the original speaker said with hardened cynicism. ‘Isn’t it always?’

  ‘Well, she won’t be around the family for too long once she hears Megan Fry’s news.’

  ‘What news is that?’

  Cara felt as if her ears were stretching in their effort to hear every torturous word, but nothing could have prepared her for the shock of what was coming next.

  ‘She’s having a baby—his baby.’

  ‘Byron’s?’ The older of the two voices sounded surprised. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Who else’s could it be?’ the other one answered confidently.

  Cara didn’t stay to hear any more. She spun on her heel and cannoned straight into the rock-hard wall of a very male chest.

  ‘Interesting relatives, aren’t they?’ Byron said, steadying her with strong hands.

  Cara opened and closed her mouth and wondered how long he’d been standing there. Had he heard?

  ‘Y…yes.’ She flicked a glance towards the portrait she’d been looking at sightlessly. ‘Who’s the artist? Anyone famous?’ she rambled as she peered at the signature, but her eyes were stubbornly uncooperative.

  ‘My great-grandfather painted it,’ Byron said from behind her left shoulder. ‘Great-Aunt Milly found it in her attic and kindly passed it on.’

  ‘It’s very…’ She hunted for a suitable adjective but all she could come up with was, ‘Er…nice.’

  ‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.

  She could feel his body warmth as he stood in front of her. It made her feel breathless and disorientated.

  ‘No, I—’

  ‘Come on, then.’ He took her arm. ‘I just got a glimpse of the dessert table. Let’s go and help ourselves before it’s all gone.’

  ‘I’m not all that hungry…’

  ‘You’re not sick, are you?’ He looked at her closely. ‘Megan’s come down with a bug. I just took her back to her hotel. Perhaps it’s the same thing.’

  ‘I can assure you it’s not.’ She couldn’t quite conceal the bitterness in her tone.

  He gave her another assessing look.

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  Cara lifted her chin.

  ‘What could possibly be wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ His hold on her arm relaxed into a gentle caress. ‘You seem a little on edge.’

  Cara couldn’t believe her ears.

  ‘And why would that be?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said again. ‘You tell me. Did Great-Aunt Milly upset you?’

  ‘No, of course not. I like her. She’s the most honest Rockcliffe I’ve met so far.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Go figure.’

  He sighed in exasperation.

  ‘Look, if you’re upset about me taking Megan home, don’t be.’

  ‘That’s very reassuring,’ she bit out caustically. ‘It’s not unlike the stable hand locking the door once the horses have bolted.’

  ‘What?’ He frowned at her in puzzlement.

  ‘You heard.’

  ‘You’re jealous,’ he said. ‘Look, she did kiss me once, but that was all; unfortunately my nieces witnessed it. Megan is a family friend. We—’

  ‘More family than friend, I’d say,’ she interjected.

  ‘What’s all this about?’ he asked. ‘Is all this because I employed her to fix your business? Is that what this is?’

  Cara gave him a frosty glance.

  ‘Employ who you like. It makes no difference to me. I’m looking for another job once I get back to Sydney anyhow.’ She swung out of his hold and with quickened steps made her way back to the crush of guests in the formal lounge.

  It was soon time for the cake and speeches. Cara stood to one side and wondered how she’d ended up in such a farcical situation. Her ex-husband was going to be a father to a child by his childhood sweetheart and there was nothing she could do about it. Pain wrenched at her insides like knives in tender flesh. How could she bear it?

  ‘…and I’d like to thank my adorable wife, Jan, who’s done a marvellous job of bringing up our four children. And I’d like to thank our four children. Byron, Patrick, Leon and Felicity…’

  Cara could stand no more. She slipped away during the riotous applause over one of Rob’s jokes and made her way outside into the garden.

  The moon was a suspended sickle in the inky sky, a sprinkling of stars adorning its surrounds. The night breeze held a hint of jasmine and orange blossom and she breathed deeply, looking for solace.

  ‘I thought I’d find you out here.’ Byron spoke from behind her.

  She didn’t turn to face him, instead kept looking up at the night sky.

  He came to stand alongside her. She felt the brush of his shoulder against her and caught a faint whiff of his aftershave when a tiny breeze brushed past her face, carrying his scent to her.

  ‘You don’t like crowds, do you?’ he asked after a long silence.

  Cara shifted so his face came into view. The lights from the terrace cast his features in shadow, but she could still make out his wry half-smile.

  ‘I’m sure no one will miss me.’

  ‘On the contrary.’ His smile tilted a little more. ‘I missed you.’

  She didn’t know what to make of his simple comment. A vision of Megan flitted into her mind, her belly ripe with the child he craved.

  She lifted her chin determinedly and faced him full on.

  ‘Byron, this arrangement we have has to stop. Immediately.’

  His brow creased, his eyes darkly hooded.

  ‘Why? Because of Megan?’

  She gave an exasperated sound in the back of her throat.

  ‘Of course because of Megan.’

  He disturbed his hair with his hand. Even in shadow she could see his expression was troubled. Serve him right, she thought to herself. Let him sweat out this dilemma of his own making.

  ‘I know I should have told you I was employing her as business manager, but I didn’t want to put you off. I thought once you got to know her properly you’d see how talented she really is—’

  ‘Oh, she’s very talented,’ Cara shot back before he could finish. ‘There’s no question about that.’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’

  ‘The problem is I don’t play second fiddle to anyone.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to play second fiddle. I’m asking you—no, I’m telling you that Megan is your best chance at getting your business back on its feet once more. She’s highly qualified in business management. I’ve seen her work and it’s highly commendable.’

  ‘I want out,’ she said. ‘I no longer have any interest in the business.’

  ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’

  ‘Am I?’ She gave him a hard look, her eyes flashing defiantly. ‘I’m not some piece on a chessboard you can shift around at will. I don’t play those games any more. Buy me out. Perhaps Megan would like to purchase my share of the business. It might come in handy some time in the future, when she wants to take maternity leave.’

  ‘You really hate her, don’t you?’

  Cara gave him a disbelieving look. What did he expect her to feel?

  ‘Look,’ she said tightly, ‘I don’t care quite how you go about setting up your stud of Rockcliffes, but count me out. This brood mare is out for a spell.’

  She spun on her high heels and headed back towards the brightly lit house.

  ‘Cara!’

  His voice rang out insistently behind her, but she kept going regardless, im
mensely relieved when Jan appeared on the terrace and greeted her warmly.

  ‘Cara, the twins are insisting on you tucking them into bed. Be an angel?’

  ‘Of course.’

  It was a welcome reprieve, even if she had to think on her feet for a story suitably entertaining for young ears. She didn’t think Katie and Kirstie’s parents would thank her for disillusioning their daughters with the perfidy of men—in particular that of their very own uncle.

  ‘…and the only thing she could think of was to imagine herself far away. She could see herself riding high upon the fluffily white clouds. And when the sun went down the stars would light her way. They were like millions of tiny diamonds, shining down for her to find her way through to the land of her dreams.’

  Cara looked down at the rapt little faces around her.

  ‘And?’ Katie prodded.

  Care smiled and continued, ‘The land of the little girl’s dreams was far, far away. She needed much more than stars to help her to find it. She needed magic.’

  ‘What sort of magic?’ Kirstie asked.

  ‘The sort of magic you have to go looking for,’ Cara said. ‘It’s mostly hidden. That’s because there’s only a certain amount to go around all the people in the world. You have to know where to look.’

  ‘Where do you have to look?’ Katie asked, her eyes wide with interest.

  ‘Inside yourself,’ Cara answered. ‘The magic is within you. All the magic you ever need is right inside you. You just have to believe in yourself to get to it.’

  ‘Did the unhappy little girl find it?’ Kirstie asked.

  ‘Eventually,’ Cara lied. ‘But it took a long time and a lot of soul-searching before she finally let go of the past and embraced the future.’ She patted the bed beside them. ‘Come on, you two. Time for bed. It’s after eleven p.m. I can’t have you turning into pumpkins, now, can I?’

  ‘I love the story of Cinderella!’ Kirstie piped up. ‘Can you tell us that?’