by Tessa Radley
Jilly had written of her overriding need for a baby to fill the emptiness of her life. That had caused Nick a pang of guilt. He’d been so busy resenting Jilly for forcing him into an untenable situation that he’d never tried to figure out what had been behind her desire for a child. Jilly had also written about her craving to experience pregnancy firsthand. Nick could only assume that longing had triggered the fake pregnancy she’d enacted—together with the desperation for Jennie to be seen as her child.
Watching Desmond carefully, Nick added, “New Zealand law requires the baby’s real mother to be listed on the birth certificate. Jilly bribed the midwife who tended to the baby’s birth to state that Jilly was the baby’s mother.” When Candace had first claimed to be Jennie’s mother, Nick had known it was impossible. According to the birth certificate, Jilly was Jennie’s mother. Jilly’s journal had solved another piece of the puzzle.
Heaven knew what else Jilly had done.
It was time to play his hand. “The baby’s birth certificate will be corrected.” He hoped to attend to the change quietly. Jennie’s status as Candace’s daughter was something he intended to handle as tactfully as he could. “Do you want your daughter’s fraud to be made public? The fact that she lied to me, her husband, about being pregnant while forging my consent to a surrogacy arrangement? About bribing medical practitioners to go along with fertilizing another woman’s egg and implanting it offshore into that woman without my knowledge and consent? About paying off a midwife to falsify a birth certificate? Do you want people to know how mentally frail she was? How your years of emotional neglect affected her?”
Desmond started to object, then he stopped.
“You’ve worked to build a media image as a philanthropist, a devoted father to Jilly. Desmond, do you want that tainted?” Nick pressed on. “Do you want the real story of your troubled relationship with your daughter made public? The facts of how she manipulated the surrogate system exposed, along with how she bribed medical officials?”
Holding his breath, Nick waited. Would it be enough to persuade Desmond to back down?
“No,” Desmond conceded at last. He tossed aside the pen he’d been fiddling with, and spat out, “I’d rather she was remembered as the beautiful, happy woman she was before she married you.”
Nick nodded. “I was not the right man for her—there can be no doubt about that.” He regretted the years he and Jilly had both wasted. From Jilly’s journal he’d learned that in her way she did love him, and she’d come to realize her mistake in forcing him into a union he didn’t want. That had been one of the motivations for a baby. To bring them closer together. She’d thought that Nick needed a child—she’d viewed him as a great prospective father. That had deeply touched Nick, giving him a way forward to remember Jilly in a kinder way.
And Jilly had done more…
“Inside Jilly’s journal, I also discovered a codicil Jilly added to her will, leaving her stock in Valentine’s to me.” The codicil was dated shortly before Jennie was born. Nick was grateful she’d taken time to create it.
Desmond picked up the pen again. “My lawyer told me Jilly had instructed him to draw up a codicil, but he didn’t have the signed document. We decided she’d had second thoughts.”
“She signed it. And it’s witnessed. It’s valid. I’ve sent it to my lawyer,” Nick said. “He’ll communicate with the lawyer handling Jilly’s estate.”
After a long moment, Desmond gave a sigh. He looked less arrogant—and much older—than when Nick had first entered the large corner office. “It looks like there’s not much for me to say.”
“You’ll drop the suit for custody?”
Desmond gave a terse nod.
“You will agree to speak to NorthPark about having Alison and Richard’s eviction notice revoked?” Again a nod. “And you will stop pursuing Valentine stock?”
“I’ll do what you want.” There was still anger on the older man’s face.
Nick reminded himself that Desmond had lost his daughter tragically, unexpectedly, and whatever their convoluted father-daughter relationship, he’d loved Jilly in his own way.
Although Nick wanted as little as possible to do with Desmond in the future, he didn’t want the man to be an enemy, forever scheming how to hurt him. There’d been a moment earlier when he’d itched to hit Desmond; he was relieved that he hadn’t.
It would’ve made him less of a man in his own eyes—and he knew that Candace would’ve hated to hear that he’d used violence against a father who must still be grieving.
Bottom line: he wanted the feud with Jilly’s father to be over. To that end he said, “I plan to build a children’s playground at the flagship Valentine’s in Jilly’s memory.” Desmond studied him warily. “I’d like you to open it—I’ll make sure the event has plenty of publicity.”
“Jilly would’ve appreciated that. Thank you.” The anger started to fade from Desmond’s face. “Perhaps you could build a bench somewhere with a plaque dedicating it to her. She loved flowers.”
“I could do that. There’s a rose garden where Jilly often took photographs, with a sundial in the center. A bench would fit in perfectly. Many people could sit and enjoy the surroundings.”
Desmond nodded slowly. “I might come and sit there myself.”
“Good.” He could tolerate that, Nick decided, rising to his feet. He held out his hand. “I’m glad we’ve resolved our differences.” He only hoped the coming confrontation with Candace was going to proceed as smoothly.
Nick knew Desmond Perry would no longer present a threat to his family.
Candace was reclining on a lounger in the shade under the poolside umbrella, rubbing the fluff that was Jennie’s hair dry after a lunchtime swim in the pool, when she heard the scrape of the sliding doors and looked up.
Her pulse picked up as Nick emerged from the house. He’d left early for work this morning, and Candace discovered that she’d missed him. She’d gotten used to the three of them— Nick, Jennie and her—sharing breakfast on the deck on the sunny early mornings but he’d kept himself away since she’d turned down his proposal.
It had left her feeling restless.
Sitting up, she set down the towel and pulled the T-shirt Jennie wore straight, then checked to see that the sarong she’d donned over her own damp swimsuit hadn’t parted to reveal her tummy or legs. Since she’d made love with Nick, she’d taken great care not to allow any opportunity for those burning moments of awareness to arise.
“She’s a real water baby,” she remarked, stroking Jennie’s head before glancing back up to Nick.
“The signs were always there,” said Nick. He barely glanced at Candace’s scantily clad body as he pulled up a chair from the table arrangement where they ate in the morning. “I need to talk to you.”
His face was stern.
“Yes?”
“Desmond has agreed to withdraw the application for custody of Jennie.”
She couldn’t stop the huge grin that lit up her face. “That’s fabulous news. Nick, I’m so relieved. When?”
“As we speak. My lawyers are talking to his.”
“Oh, I could hug you.” Then she wished she hadn’t added they last bit as his face remained set. Nick didn’t even joke in response. Something was wrong. “There’s more isn’t there?”
“I found Jilly’s journal and I’ve been reading her appointment book.”
He paused.
Candace waited, feeling puzzled at the withdrawal she sensed in him. On her lap, Jennie grew restless.
“Do you know that you’re not named as Jennie’s mother on the birth certificate?”
She frowned at the switch in subject. “You said that when I first told you I was Jennie’s mother. I thought you’d simply never seen it.” It had seemed typical of the remote, uninvolved father she’d pegged him to be. “That can’t be right.”
She didn’t like the way he was watching her, like a dark panther waiting to pounce on the first slip she made. S
he swung her legs to the ground so that she was perched on the edge of the lounger. Spreading the biggest towel on the deck in front of the lounger, she placed Jennie on it and handed her a teething ring. Immediately, Jennie started to chew.
“You had a midwife at the birth.”
“Yes—Jilly wanted the home experience, she thought it would give you and her a better chance to bond with the baby than a hospital birth, where your involvement would be minimal.” Candace paused. “She even said you’d decided not to be present because you would be overseas. Thinking about it now, you wouldn’t even have known about the birth, right?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t. Jilly told me she was three weeks off her due date, that it would be a good time to take a trip to meet three new suppliers…and on the way home I attended a gardeners’ conference. I thought there was still plenty of time.”
“Oh.” It put paid to another assumption she’d made. “It was fortunate for Jilly the timing worked out.”
“Yes.” He was still watching her, but the flat line of his mouth had softened.
Candace found she was breathing easier. “When you failed to turn up at Jennie’s birth, I started to grow truly worried about what kind of father you would be. I told Jilly I wished I hadn’t signed away my right to stay in contact with the baby after the birth. Jilly was quick to point out that she’d always made it clear that you didn’t really want to know about the surrogate, that you wanted to pretend the baby was Jilly’s. But I couldn’t understand how any father would want to miss such a momentous occasion.”
“It certainly wasn’t part of Jilly’s plan for you to stay in the picture. I discovered from my reading that Jilly bribed the midwife to list her as the mother on the birth certificate.”
“I never knew that.” Candace thought about it as she watched Jennie toss the ring down, then pick it up again and shove it back in her mouth. “But it makes sense. That’s why she wanted a home birth with a midwife?” Sadness swept her. “I would’ve been happier at the hospital, given that Jennie was my first child and anything could’ve gone wrong. But it was so important to her that I gave in.”
“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
Even over the two yards separating them, she could sense his tension.
It was hardly a good time to confess the one aspect of her behavior she wasn’t proud of. It would be better to wait for a time when Nick was more open to discussion. Candace knew she was putting it off. When would there ever be an easy time?
She drew a deep breath and squarely met Nick’s indigo gaze. “Yes. Jilly gave me money.”
Nick’s almost black gaze bored into her. “You lied to me. You told me you weren’t paid for being a surrogate.”
“I wasn’t,” she said automatically. “You—I mean Jilly—paid for the medical expenses and she covered my other expenses. The one thing she did pay for that I didn’t want was the stay in the resort when the IVF was done. And she spoiled me with gifts when she visited during the pregnancy…I didn’t have the heart to refuse because it gave her such pleasure. But this payment was different.”
“How?” He gave a snort.
“It was a large sum.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “So when did she give you money? Did you call her?”
“No! I wasn’t ever supposed to make contact again.” Candace glanced down at Jennie again, remembering how the despair in the empty days after Jennie’s birth had sapped her. “After I’d given Jennie up, she called to see how I was.”
Then she lifted her gaze to Nick’s, hoping he couldn’t sense her inner shaking or recognize the fear and vulnerability. “I was a mess. Jilly came around to see me—she didn’t bring Jennie. When I first heard her car pull up, I hoped with a desperate yearning I can’t even begin to describe to you that she’d reconsidered, that she was prepared to relax the noncontact clause in the surrogate contract. But she was alone. I told her that my mother was in the hospital after falling off a ladder in the pantry. She was unconscious, and brain damage was suspected. I started to cry. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know what I was going to do. You probably won’t believe me, but Jilly gave me comfort.”
“I do believe you. Jilly liked to be needed. Too many of the people in her life didn’t need her at all,” Nick said slowly. “It may be part of the reason she was so eager for a baby.”
“When it became clear that my mother was going to need care, Jilly offered to pay for her place at Apple Orchards.”
“So in the end you did accept payment for Jennie.”
Candace shook her head frantically. “No. It was never meant to be like that! How could you think that I’d accept a womb-for-hire arrangement?” It hurt that he’d assumed the worst. “I kept saying no, but Jilly insisted. I gave in, because it made my life, and Mom’s, easier.”
Nick didn’t say anything. He just stared at her with a blank expression, the muscle high on his cheek pulsing furiously.
“You know what?” The shaking had taken over her whole body. “I’ll tell you something I haven’t even admitted to myself. I felt so guilty later. Because deep down I feel like I traded Jennie for my mother’s comfort. And even telling Jilly I would try to pay her back didn’t help ease the guilt. We both knew it was far beyond my means.”
“I’m sorry.” Nick rose to his feet and settled himself beside her on the lounger, and groped awkwardly for her hand. “I found reference to the payment she’d made—and I jumped to the conclusion you’d taken money in exchange for Jennie. Jilly liked you,” he added after a small silence. “There was an entry after one of the times she’d spoken to you at the hospital, saying how sympathetic you were. She worked hard to become friendly with you.”
Candace gripped his hand, and the trembling started to subside. “I liked her, too. But I felt a little sorry for her…she was so desperate for the child she couldn’t have.”
“She sensed that she could manipulate you…I suspect she might have helped your mother because she felt remorse about it.”
“How awful.”
“Not that awful.” Nick tipped his head in the direction of the baby sitting on the towel in front of them. “It gave us both Jennie.”
The distance she’d sensed between them when he first came out had gone.
“And I met you.” Nick gave her a bittersweet smile. “That would never have happened if not for Jilly.”
Before Candace could respond, he’d risen to his feet.
“I’d better get back to work. I have several appointments this afternoon about the company’s expansion into the South Island and the sooner I get them over, the sooner I can be home again.” He paused, and then said, “Perhaps we can go and see your mother on the weekend. I’d like to meet her.”
Fourteen
“Oh, you’ve brought Jennie back for a visit.” Catherine Morrison stood in the open doorway of her large sunny bedroom. “Come, bring her stroller in.”
The first thought Nick had on meeting Candace’s mother was that Jennie had been here before. The second was that he could see where Candace had gotten her lovely gray eyes. And that led him to realize that Jennie would, in all probability, be blessed with a pair of angel eyes, too.
His final realization was that Catherine had no idea Jennie was her granddaughter.
“Jennie fell asleep in the car, and we managed to get her into the stroller without her waking. Mom, this is Nick Valentine,” said Candace.
Catherine inspected him curiously, and then smiled, a lovely gentle smile that reminded him immeasurably of Candace. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Sit by the window, Nick.” Candace pointed to a sofa covered with roses. “Mom can sit next to you. I’ll sit on the bed.”
“We could go down to the lounge,” suggested her mother. “There’s a lot more space down there.”
Candace wrinkled her nose.
“The lounge was full of people playing bingo.” Nick grinned conspiratorially at Catherine. “It will be too noisy to talk.”
>
Catherine nodded slowly. “I’d forgotten about the bingo.”
“We’ll take a walk down to the roses a bit later.” Candace perched herself on the bed, Jennie’s stroller beside her.
“You like roses,” Nick said to the older woman.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, yes…but you could’ve guessed that from my room.”
Glancing around, Nick took in the design of the sofa, the creamy white roses in the vase on the dresser and the photo of a pale pink, old-fashioned damask rose printed onto a canvas block that hung above the bed. Jilly’s work. He studied it. The photograph revealed all the best sides of Jilly. Her femininity. Her passion for beauty. He could see why Candace had chosen it for her mother.
“That was my birthday present. Candace chose it for me.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Do you know Candace well?”
“Mom—”
“Are you…” Catherine’s voice trailed away and she glanced at Candace. “What does one call it these days? He’s too sophisticated to be called a boyfriend.”
Candace had gone bright red, and Nick started to smile. Then he took pity on her. “You can tell your mom if you want.”
“He is your boyfriend.” Catherine looked delighted. “You were so sad when you came back from your trip, I thought you’d had your heart broken.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
Nick quickly reassured her. “I didn’t break her heart.”
“Mom—” Candace got up from the bed and crossed over to perch herself on the arm of the sofa beside her mother. “I have to apologize to you. I’ve been keeping a secret from you. There was no trip. I agreed to help a woman—have a baby. I agreed to donate my eggs and carry the baby for her. Part of the agreement was that I’d keep it a secret. I should’ve told you.”
