His After-Hours Mistress

by Amanda Browning

  ‘Which makes you a woman after my own heart,’ Roarke declared. ‘This is turning out to be a far more interesting weekend than I had imagined.’

  Interesting wasn’t the word she would have chosen, she thought, as she sipped her drink. Dangerous seemed to fit better. Running into her father had been unpleasant, but there was a brighter side. Her family was so close, she could almost touch them. All she had to do was reach out. Life had a way of throwing you a crumb of hope just when you least expected it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DINNER was a sumptuous affair, and Ginny could only wonder what the wedding breakfast would be like. It seemed to her it would be hard to top this. Not that she had a large appetite. Half of the guests had melted away before dinner was announced. They had been invited for cocktails to meet the bride and groom, so it was a smaller number of people sitting around the long table in the formal dining room.

  Ginny had caught sight of her mother and sister as they sat down, but they must have received orders not to acknowledge her. Whenever she glanced in their direction they looked away hastily. James had been more subtle. He had simply looked right through her. Not surprising then that her appetite had disappeared.

  ‘Looks like Sir Martin has had a word with his family,’ Roarke observed dryly from beside her, and it didn’t really surprise Ginny to realise he had seen what was happening. He sensed a mystery, and mysteries had only one reason for existence—to be solved.

  ‘All done with military precision,’ she joked.

  Roarke reached for his glass of wine and took a sip. ‘What did you do to get on the wrong side of him?’

  She poked at a piece of chicken with her fork. ‘Marching in step was never my forte.’

  ‘If you aren’t going to eat that, leave it alone,’ Roarke ordered mockingly. ‘Didn’t your parents tell you not to play with your food?’

  Spearing the chicken, she raised it to her mouth with a challenging look. ‘Constantly, but I didn’t listen to them,’ she declared, and popped the morsel into her mouth. It was dry by now, and she was forced to wash it down with some wine.

  ‘So,’ Roarke went on. ‘How did you get to meet James Beavis?’ he asked curiously.

  Ginny toyed with her glass, watching the golden liquid swill from side to side. ‘You could say we grew up together,’ she admitted wryly.

  ‘I thought he might have been an old flame,’ Roarke put in, surprising her into looking at him.

  ‘James?’ she exclaimed with a laugh. ‘No, there was never anything like that between us.’ No doubt he would be angry with her if he ever discovered the true nature of her relationship with James but, as she had no intention of telling him, there was no way he would find out. Her private life was going to remain private.

  ‘Good. I didn’t really think he was your type.’

  Ginny followed his gaze to where her brother sat talking to Caroline, Roarke’s sister. There was nothing animated in his features. Nothing to show he was looking forward to marrying the woman he was talking to. She frowned. She hoped Caroline was doing the right thing. If James had become more like their father… But it was not her decision.

  ‘How on earth did they meet?’ she asked, and Roarke shrugged.

  ‘At some charity dinner, so Mother tells me. Perhaps they exchanged horror stories and decided they would be better off together,’ he said with a laugh, and Ginny winced.

  ‘Talking of horror stories, your stepmother is unbelievable!’ she pronounced in an undertone.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he agreed dryly. ‘I liked the way you sat on her. She was no match for you.’

  Ginny was pleased he was pleased, but shrugged in an offhand way. ‘I was only doing my job.’

  ‘You seemed to be enjoying it,’ Roarke pointed out sardonically, and she chuckled.

  ‘OK, so I admit it gave me a certain satisfaction to peel her off you. I didn’t like her.’

  ‘The feeling was mutual,’ he responded with a laugh.

  Ginny laughed too, and as she turned towards him their eyes met in shared enjoyment. Then it seemed to her that something changed, and for a wild moment there was a connection between them. Something other than shared laughter. Her heart lurched, and she saw the tiny frown that appeared between his brows. He started to reach out a hand to her, and she held her breath, waiting…

  ‘Hey, you two, break it up,’ one of Roarke’s half-brothers called from across the table, and suddenly they were the centre of attention.

  Ginny came to with a jolt and felt colour storm into her cheeks. Roarke handled the matter with more élan.

  ‘Mind your own business, Tom. Ginny and I are having a private conversation,’ he declared, grinning at her. ‘Ignore him, darling. He’s just jealous because I happen to have the most beautiful woman in the room sitting next to me.’

  The endearment took her by surprise, but a second later she realised he was acting a part. His statement was hotly refuted up and down the table and she was able to use the time to gather her composure. Whatever had happened in those odd few seconds, it had been quite unsettling. She didn’t know why it had happened, but she would have to take care that nothing like it happened again. Which, she acknowledged wryly, might prove difficult as she hadn’t anticipated anything like it happening once.

  It was quite late when they left the table and returned to the drawing room. Roarke took her round and introduced her to the other members of his family. They all appeared to be nice, friendly people, who accepted her presence without question, which made her feel something of a fraud, until she reminded herself the deception was in a good cause.

  She kept an eye out for her family, but it was an hour or so before she saw James standing on his own for a moment. Knowing there would be few opportunities like this one, she excused herself from the group she was with and made her way towards him. Her brother didn’t notice her approach until the very last second, by which time it was impossible for him to escape. He tensed visibly, clearly unhappy with the situation.

  A lump of emotion lodged itself in her throat as she smiled at him. ‘Hello, James,’ she greeted huskily, willing him to respond.

  For his part, her brother’s eyes darted about the room, and she had no doubt who he was looking for. Not wanting to be interrupted too soon, she placed herself in a position to shield as much of him as she could from the room at large.

  ‘You can speak to me, you know. I won’t bite,’ she urged softly, trying to tease him as she had been wont to do when they were at home.

  Finally he looked at her. ‘Go away, Ginny.’

  It was hardly encouraging, but she persevered. ‘Can’t we talk, James? We used to be able to talk, at least.’

  James looked angry. ‘That was before. Things have changed. I can’t talk to you. I won’t,’ he declared, and made to move away, but her hand on his arm forestalled him.

  ‘Can you still be so afraid of him, James? Even now?’ she asked unhappily, and he paled, jerking his arm free.

  ‘I’m tired of hearing that from you. It was so easy for you, Ginny. You had nothing to lose!’ he snapped angrily, keeping his voice down with an effort.

  Ginny almost laughed as she shook her head. ‘You’re wrong. I had everything to lose. I lost you and Lucy and Mum. I’ve missed you. All I want to do is talk to you.’

  For the space of a heartbeat James appeared to hesitate, but then something over her shoulder made him shut down tight. She glanced round and saw their father watching them, his expression grim. No wonder James was in retreat.

  ‘Get lost, Ginny!’ he snarled at her, and this time he did walk away.

  Ginny didn’t try to stop him, for she knew there would be no point. James had never been strong enough to fight their father’s strictures, even when she had been there to back him up. He hated unpleasantness and rows and angry voices. He had been a gentle boy, which had irritated their father and made him send his son to a military school to toughen him up. James had returned more buttoned-up than ever, and Ginny
would never forgive her father for that.

  Feeling as she did, she couldn’t stay in the same room with him right now, for she didn’t know what she might do. She had to get away to calm down. Which was why she didn’t return to where Roarke stood talking to another of his sisters, but headed for the terrace and the fresh air. Nor was she aware that he watched her go, a frown of concern creasing his forehead.

  Outside, she headed away from the light cast by the doorway, into the peace of the shadows further along where few people had wandered to. Resting her hands on the parapet, she tipped her head back, allowing the breeze that blew in off the lake to cool her face. It lifted the hair from her neck and she rolled her head slowly from side to side to get maximum benefit. It felt wonderful, and she could feel herself relaxing.

  She might not have felt so relaxed had she been aware of the man who had followed her out and who now approached her from behind. She had only the briefest of warnings given by the sound of a footfall, then Sir Martin’s hand took her by the shoulder and spun her round roughly.

  His face was livid with anger. ‘My God, why must you constantly defy me? I told you to stay away from my son. We want nothing to do with you.’

  Ginny had never been afraid of confrontation, no matter how threatening her father could be. Now she rested back against the stonework of the low wall and tipped her chin up at him.

  ‘You disowned me, remember? Which means you no longer have the right to tell me what I may or may not do,’ she shot right back, unaware of a dark figure who slipped out of a window further along the veranda and settled into the shadows. ‘I’m no longer your daughter, Brigadier.’

  Sir Martin’s lip curled scornfully. ‘You were never that. A daughter doesn’t disobey her father. She doesn’t mix with riff-raff, nor sleep with gutter trash! A daughter thinks more of herself than to bed down with any man who asks her!’

  Ginny could feel the same old anger balling up inside her, threatening to choke her. ‘My friends were not riff-raff,’ she insisted, enunciating each word carefully. ‘Nor did I ever sleep around.’

  He laughed harshly. ‘No? You went off with the first man who came sniffing round you. You couldn’t wait to get into his bed!’

  The accusation was true, but only to a point. ‘I loved him. I thought he loved me.’ She had been desperate for affection, starving for it. So much so that she was blinded to Mark’s true nature.

  That made Sir Martin laugh again. ‘And all he really wanted was my money. When he knew he would never get his hands on it, he couldn’t drop you quickly enough.’

  Ginny crossed her arms over her chest to hide the fact that her hands were shaking with suppressed emotion. ‘I wasn’t the first, and I certainly won’t be the last woman who’s been made a fool of by a man.’

  ‘Nor been left pregnant by him,’ Sir Martin added sneeringly.

  There was nothing Ginny could do to ward off the shaft of pain his words drove through her. She gasped as the old wound was torn open. Straightening up, her eyes flashed a warning he was treading on dangerous ground.

  ‘That has nothing to do with you.’

  Her father bent over her, using his height and size to dominate. ‘It has everything to do with me, young woman. I have to live with the knowledge that there’s a fatherless child out there bringing disgrace to an old and honoured name!’

  Oh, if ever there were a few words that summed up what really mattered to her father, those were the ones. His name and position meant more to him than his family. Well, he didn’t have to worry about it any longer.

  Strong emotions threatened to choke her, but she forced herself to speak clearly. ‘You can put your mind at rest, Brigadier. There is no child to put a blot on the family escutcheon.’

  He was brought up short temporarily. ‘You had it adopted after all?’

  That was what he had demanded in exchange for his help. It had never been an option for her. Ginny shook her head. ‘She died.’ Her voice broke on the word, and her eyes glittered like diamonds with unshed tears. ‘That should give you cause to celebrate,’ she went on, rallying. Determined not to break down before this unforgiving man.

  Sir Martin straightened up, folding his hands behind his back, military fashion. ‘Probably the best thing to happen,’ he declared shortly, and Ginny drew in a shocked breath.

  ‘You are incredible. There isn’t an ounce of compassion in you. Well, this will come as a surprise to you, Brigadier, but it wasn’t the best thing for me that my baby died. I wanted her. I would have loved her in a way you could never comprehend.’

  Sir Martin set his jaw. ‘Children are for continuing the family line.’

  How many times had she heard that? It had been no more true then than it was now. ‘That’s archaic! You would have had me marry a man of your choice, just to enhance the family connection!’

  ‘Precisely. James and Lucy are doing their duty by the family, as you should have done.’

  Ginny paled at his revelation. ‘You’re forcing Lucy into marriage, too?’

  ‘Nobody is forcing her to do anything. I’ve simply placed the names of suitable husbands before her so that she can make her own choice,’ her father denied.

  ‘And if she doesn’t want to marry one of those?’ Ginny enquired, feeling her stomach tighten as Sir Martin smiled smugly.

  ‘Lucy is not like you. She will do what she knows is right, or end up like you.’

  Ginny stared at him, aghast. ‘You’re using me as a threat to get her to do what you demand?’ Her brain was whirling. Oh, God, Lucy, not you too!

  Sir Martin smirked down at her. ‘Did you think you would be sowing the seeds of rebellion when you left? That was a serious tactical error. All you did was remove a thorn in my side. Your name is never mentioned. You don’t exist so far as this family is concerned, Virginia. My game, I think.’

  Ginny closed her eyes as she made a sickening discovery. By staying away she had given her father the opportunity to force her brother and sister into line. Too late she realised she should have stayed in touch with them somehow. She could have helped them to see that they didn’t have to obey his unreasonable demands. As he said, it had been a tactical error on her part, but he had just made one of his own. He had told her about it, and now she knew she had to do something. James might be beyond her reach, but Lucy was not. What she must not do now was show her hand.

  ‘You may think you’ve won, Brigadier, but it’s an illusion. You’re going to end up a lonely, bitter old man. Now, if you don’t mind, I came out here for some fresh air, and you’re sullying it with your presence.’

  ‘I have no intention of staying out here any longer than it takes me to get your promise not to talk to my family,’ Sir Martin responded coldly, but Ginny laughed and shook her head.

  ‘Hell will freeze over before that happens.’

  Angry colour mottled his cheeks. ‘You refuse?’

  ‘You can bet your life I do. You can’t browbeat me like you do James. I’m made of stronger stuff.’ Hopefully, Lucy would be made of stronger stuff too. Lord, she hoped so.

  He looked as if he wanted to throttle her, but that was one thing he had never done—harmed any of them physically. He preferred to dominate mentally. ‘You’ll regret defying me. I’ll make sure you do,’ he threatened, and spun on his heel and marched off.

  Shaking more than a little, Ginny turned and rested her hands on the parapet again, closing her eyes.

  ‘Damn him! Oh, damn him to hell!’ she gritted out through her teeth, slamming her fist on to the concrete.

  Her father had dominated her life, turned it into an unending war for independence. She had thought she was free, but it had been a temporary reprieve. She would not be able to breathe freely again until she had saved Lucy from a marriage of convenience. Lucy had been scarcely ten years old when she had left—a child—now she was a young woman. Perhaps it was too late. Her father might have done his work too well. It was something Ginny was going to have to find out…


  Suddenly she froze. There had been a noise off to her left followed by a stifled sound. Turning round, she tried to probe the darkness.

  ‘Hello? Is anybody there?’ she called out, and was almost on the point of deciding it must have been a cat or some other animal, when the darkness shifted and she could make out the shape of a man walking towards her.

  Seconds later, Roarke stepped into the soft moonlight, a wry expression on his face. ‘I should tell my mother to move some of her potted plants. I gave my knee a nasty rap,’ he said with a laugh, but Ginny didn’t smile.

  ‘What were you doing, hovering in the shadows like that?’ she demanded to know, whilst a cold lump settled in her stomach. How long had he been there? What did he know?

  ‘Enjoying the moonlight?’ Roarke ventured, but when she continued to stare at him coldly, he shrugged and confessed. ‘Waiting for Sir Martin to leave.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘How long have you been standing there?’

  Roarke came closer, hands tucked into his trouser pockets. ‘I saw him follow you out, and, as I didn’t like the look on his face, I decided to keep tabs on him. I slipped out through the library window.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the window she could barely make out.

  Her nerves jolted anxiously at that, and though she was sure she knew the answer to her next question, she braced herself to ask it anyway. ‘How much did you hear?’

  Stopping before her, Roarke looked her squarely in the eye. ‘Pretty much everything,’ he confessed, and Ginny drew in an angry breath. By her sides her hands balled into fists.

  ‘Damn you, Roarke, you had no right to listen! What you eavesdropped on was private.’

  He raised his hands placatingly. ‘I know. I’m sorry. In my defence, I can only say I was more interested in making sure you were safe. I told you, I didn’t like the look on your father’s face.’

  The casual use of the word ‘father’ underlined just how much he now knew, and how pointless it would be to attempt to deny it. The cat was out of the bag and, much as she might wish otherwise, it could never be put back. Roarke now knew the most sordid details of her past, and she was sure he could make a good attempt at filling in the blanks of what he didn’t know. The protective wall she had built had been breached, leaving her feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she had in years. Impotent rage bubbled inside her, and she hated him for knowing what he did. It was none of his business.