Keeping Luke's Secret

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Keeping Luke's Secret Page 14

by Carole Mortimer


  ‘It did. It does,’ she corrected. ‘It’s just that—’

  ‘Richmond is a far better future prospect than an impoverished university lecturer,’ Jeremy finished scathingly.

  ‘How dare you?’ Leonie gasped incredulously.

  ‘How dare I?’ he repeated scornfully. ‘I’m not the one making a fool of myself! Don’t you see, Leonie, with a man like Richmond there won’t be any future? Once he’s had what he wants from you he will just discard you—’

  ‘Go, Jeremy,’ she cut in sharply, her cheeks pale now. ‘Just go,’ she repeated wearily. ‘Before you say something—’

  ‘That I’ll regret? Or that you will?’ he challenged, shaking his head disgustedly. ‘Men like Luke Richmond only play with women like you, Leonie—’

  ‘That is enough!’ she bit out tautly. ‘Jeremy, let’s at least try and part as friends, hmm,’ she encouraged huskily.

  He looked at her coldly. ‘I don’t think so, thank you,’ he scorned before turning sharply on his heel and leaving, also taking the steps two at a time.

  But, unlike when Luke had departed so abruptly, Leonie felt nothing but relief as she heard the engine of Jeremy’s car noisily departing.

  She made her way wearily back into the sitting-room, the remains of the meal she and Luke had been sharing when Jeremy had arrived evidence of his abrupt departure.

  Just from her apartment? Or from her life completely…?

  * * *

  ’Leonie, have you seen the newspaper this morning?’ her grandfather questioned tensely down the telephone line.

  Leonie ran her hands through her tousled hair as she tried to wake up, sitting up in bed, having only managed to reach out from beneath the bedclothes to pick up the receiver of the ringing telephone a few seconds ago. For all the good it had done her; her grandfather’s question made absolutely no sense to her whatsoever.

  ‘What time is it?’ She tried to focus on the bedside clock. ‘Grandfather, it’s only seven-thirty in the morning!’ she protested incredulously.

  ‘And some of us have been up for well over an hour already,’ he returned impatiently. ‘And we’ve read our newspaper!’ he added caustically.

  ‘They don’t deliver my newspaper here.’ Leonie was very slowly coming awake. ‘I usually pick one up on my way to work.’ She wiped the sleep from her eyes, feeling as if her lids were weighed down with lead.

  She had not had a good night’s sleep—in fact, she was surprised she had slept at all!—and this early-morning telephone call from her grandfather was doing nothing for her already shattered nerves.

  Her grandfather sighed. ‘Leonie, why didn’t you tell me you’re writing Rachel Richmond’s biography?’

  ‘What?’ She came fully awake now, her fingers tightly gripping the receiver. ‘No one is supposed to know about that.’ She frowned. ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘The same way everyone else who buys a newspaper today will find out—by reading it!’ he told her tensely. ‘Leonie, as you know, I take two newspapers: The Times for to-the-point news and the crossword, and a less reputable newspaper for the gossipy stuff.’ He spoke more calmly now. ‘Rachel’s illness, and the fact that you’re in the process of writing her biography, is on the front page of the latter,’ he told her gently.

  Leonie closed her eyes, falling back against her rumpled pillows, feeling nauseous. How on earth—?

  Jeremy…!

  There could be no other explanation; the amount of people who were aware of the work she was doing for Rachel could be counted on one hand—and none of those other people was likely to have leaked such a story to the press.

  A fact Luke, when he was made aware of the article, would also no doubt be aware of…

  Only Jeremy, Leonie knew, had been feeling vindictive enough when he’d left here last night to have done something like this. It wasn’t going to take Luke long to work that out, either.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the biography, Leonie?’ her grandfather prompted again.

  Leonie’s brain was racing as she tried to think of ways to explain exactly what had happened to Luke when she next saw him. No matter which way she looked at it, it still came down to the fact that she was the one who had told Jeremy about the biography—and Rachel’s illness, she now realised!—and as such she had to be held responsible for his having leaked that information to the press, too.

  Luke was going to be furious—even more furious!—with her.

  ‘Leonie?’ her grandfather pushed impatiently.

  She sighed. ‘I didn’t tell you because I was asked not to talk to anyone about it.’ Something she seemed to have forgotten when she’d confided in Jeremy! ‘Besides,’ she added flatly, ‘I had no idea you would be in the least interested.’

  Her grandfather was quiet for several long seconds. ‘But now you do?’ he said quietly.

  ‘I think so,’ Leonie confirmed heavily, clearly remembering her grandfather’s shock on Saturday evening at seeing Luke again. At the time she had just thought it had been because she hadn’t arrived with Jeremy, now she wasn’t so sure…

  ‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘At the party on Saturday evening, I expect?’

  ‘Yes,’ she acknowledged abruptly; what else could she say?

  ’I knew I should have pressed harder that evening concerning your friendship with Luke—’

  ‘Not any more,’ Leonie assured him ruefully. ‘Luke is never going to forgive me for that newspaper article about his mother’s illness and the biography,’ she explained huskily.

  ‘You didn’t give them the story, did you?’ Her grandfather sounded absolutely astounded.

  ‘Of course not,’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘But I believe a friend of mine may have done,’ she added heavily.

  ‘A question of a man scorned, is that it?’ he guessed accurately.

  ‘Something like that.’ She grimaced, sure it had to have been Jeremy. ‘I really don’t want to talk about this any more just now, Grandfather. I have to find Luke and try to explain—’

  ‘I believe you and I need to talk too, Leonie,’ he put in firmly.

  ‘Not now, Grandfather,’ she said pleadingly. If she couldn’t find Luke, she could at least explain to Rachel what had happened. Besides, she and Rachel needed to talk anyway…

  ‘It’s waited all these years, it can wait a little longer, hmm?’ he acknowledged dryly.

  ‘Grandfather, I—’ No, she couldn’t tell him about Rachel!

  What good would it do, after all these years? Besides, she wasn’t sure yet whether her guess concerning the other woman’s state of health was a correct one. Until she did, she would be better not saying anything to anyone else.

  Now, when Jeremy had broken her confidence so blatantly, she had the foresight to realise that!

  ’I’ll call you later on today, okay?’ she prompted instead, sitting up to swing her legs out of bed.

  Her ankle, she noted thankfully, was much less painful and swollen today. Swollen or not, it was going to have to stand up to her walking and driving with it, because she intended calling in sick today in order to go and see Rachel.

  Her grandfather drew in a sharp breath. ‘Try not to think too badly about this situation until the two of us have talked, hmm? Things are never quite what they seem, you know,’ he added gently.

  ‘It’s Luke I’m most concerned about,’ she told him honestly.

  ‘Yes,’ her grandfather accepted huskily. ‘I have to say, what little I’ve seen of him, I think he’s a rather remarkable young man.’

  To Leonie, he was so much more than that!

  But he had been angry enough with her last night for what he considered her betrayal of his mother—how much more angry was he going to be with her today after the appearance of that newspaper article…?

  CHAPTER 13

  ‘YOU’VE guessed that I’m dying, haven’t you, Leonie?’ There was no bitterness or regret in Rachel’s voice as she lay in the hospital bed smiling wistfully at Leon
ie—just a mere statement of fact.

  Leonie, although she had suspected as much yesterday, was the one left reeling.

  Rachel was dying?

  No, it simply couldn’t be true!

  Leonie had tried calling Luke at Rachel’s home before leaving her apartment this morning, but the ever-efficient Janet had told her that he wasn’t there. Not that Leonie had thought he would have been, but she had no idea of the telephone number of his London apartment and, very much doubting that Janet, who hardly knew her, would give it to her, she hadn’t bothered to ask her for it, either.

  Rachel had been alone when Leonie had arrived shortly after ten o’clock, but she had seemed pleased to see her. She looked so much better today, the colour back in her cheeks, her full make-up in place, even her hair freshly washed and styled. Leonie simply couldn’t believe that she was dying.

  ‘It’s true, I’m afraid,’ Rachel said gently in answer to the involuntary shake Leonie had given of her head. ‘Michael, dear man that he is, had the awful job of confirming it for me several months ago.’

  ‘But you seem so much better today. Surely—’

  ‘Oh, this little heart attack is nothing, Leonie,’ the other woman assured her. ‘You see, I have an inoperable cancer,’ she said softly. ‘I would much rather I hadn’t, of course.’ She continued talking to give Leonie chance to get over her obvious shock. ‘I did so want to see Luke married, perhaps bounce a grandchild or two on my knee,’ she added wistfully. ‘But it isn’t to be, I’m afraid.’

  Leonie blinked back the sudden tears. ‘How—? When—?’

  ‘A year, possibly, if I’m lucky,’ Rachel answered the question Leonie was too distressed to be able to ask. ‘Please don’t be upset.’ She reached out and took Leonie’s hand in hers, smiling mishievously. ‘I’ve had a simply marvellous life. I’ve done more or less what I wanted. I’ve had my career. Travelled. Brought up a wonderful son.’ Her voice broke slightly as she spoke of Luke. ‘He’s my only regret, Leonie.’ Tears flooded the deep green eyes. ‘When I’m gone—’

  ‘Please don’t!’ Leonie said brokenly, her hand tight on the other woman’s.

  ‘Leonie.’ Rachel reached up to gently cup one side of Leonie’s face with her hand. ‘I’m seventy-five years old, have already had five years longer than my allotted three-score-and-ten; I’ve told you, my only regret is Luke.’ She lay back with a sigh, seeming suddenly tired. ‘Because of—Circumstances mean that he will be all alone once I’m gone. That I do regret.’

  Leonie looked searchingly at the other woman, and what she saw in that beautiful troubled face brought her to a decision. ‘But we both know that isn’t true—don’t we?’ she said softly.

  Rachel turned her head to look at Leonie, smiling ruefully. ‘Do we?’

  ‘His father—’

  ’When I talked to Luke last night he would tell me very little about the weekend the two of you spent in Devon with your family.’ Rachel’s eyes sparkled eagerly. ‘Did the two of them meet? Talk to each other?’ She looked suddenly anxious.

  ‘They did,’ Leonie confirmed lightly. ‘This is the reason you chose me to write your biography, isn’t it?’ she said knowingly, having thought long and hard about all of this when she hadn’t been able to sleep the previous night; she had come to some pretty incredible conclusions! ‘Tell me, did you ever really intend to have the biography published?’

  Rachel laughed softly, shaking her head. ‘No,’ she admitted huskily. ‘I would never do a thing like that to Luke.’

  Leonie had always known that. Which was why she had always been so puzzled concerning Rachel’s determination to have her write her biography. But over the weekend, when she’d seen Luke and his father together, she had guessed at least some of the reason for Rachel’s determination. Of course, she hadn’t known then that Rachel wanted Luke to meet and get to know his father because she was dying…

  She swallowed hard. ‘Just how much of this does Luke know?’

  Rachel shrugged. ‘Well, he knows who his father is, of course—’

  ‘He does?’ Leonie gasped.

  ‘I told him years ago.’ Rachel nodded. ‘Do you remember our telling you that he went off to starve in a garret for a couple of years?’

  Leonie smiled. ‘I remember—he didn’t starve!’

  ‘No, well, he wouldn’t, would he?’ Rachel acknowledged proudly. ‘Luke is much too talented and self-sufficient to ever do that!’ She sobered. ‘No, when Luke was twenty-five he finally asked me who his father was. I told him, of course. I had decided years ago that I would if he ever asked. Well, he asked,’ she sighed. ‘Those two years he lived away from me were spent in search of who he really was.’ She smiled emotionally, her eyes swimming with tears. ‘He finally came back and told me that my son was who he really was, that the rest was unimportant.’

  Leonie found she was also fighting back the tears. Poor Luke. And poor Rachel. But if Luke had known for twelve years who his father was…?

  ‘But all of that’s changed now…?’ she prompted huskily, able to see all too clearly how Rachel, once she’d learned of her terminal illness, had reasoned things out in her mind. Luke didn’t have to be left alone in the world when he had a father who was still living. Albeit the two men didn’t know each other, but that didn’t alter the fact that they were father and son.

  Rachel sighed. ‘Of course. Luke has a family, Leonie. Your family. I’ve asked for nothing for myself all these years, but when it comes to Luke…!’ She shook her head. ‘I would do anything for my son, Leonie.’

  ‘I know that.’ Leonie nodded. And she did, only too well. ‘But are you sure Luke wants this particular family?’ She frowned.

  If Rachel had told Luke twelve years ago who his father was, then he had known on Saturday evening that he was in his presence. But not by word or action had he given the slightest inclination the other man was any more than a newly made acquaintance. Leonie had only guessed at the relationship herself because the resemblance between the two men was so obvious. To her, at least.

  ‘He liked Leo when he met him last year.’ Rachel frowned. ‘He likes you too,’ she added softly.

  Leonie grimaced. ‘Maybe he did…’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘Rachel, the newspapers today—’

  ‘Oh, I’ve seen those,’ the other woman dismissed uninterestedly.

  ‘You have?’ Leonie gasped; she had been dreading confessing to Rachel about those newspaper articles.

  She had picked a newspaper up on her drive in to the clinic, stopping to have a coffee too so that she didn’t arrive at too early an hour. Her grandfather was right, the newspaper articles were intrusively revealing.

  Rachel smiled. ‘Luke came in to see me at eight o’clock this morning. He had the newspapers with him. He was a little angry,’ she admitted at Leonie’s anxious expression.

  A little? Leonie was sure he had been blazing! Like her, he had probably had little difficulty in guessing the newspaper’s source, either…!

  But at least she had been reprieved from facing him just yet—it had been her worst nightmare that he would actually be visiting with his mother when she arrived this morning.

  She swallowed hard. ‘I’m sure he was.’ She grimaced again. ‘That’s what I mean, Rachel. Luke may like my grandfather, and there’s no doubting that he was comfortable with the family on Saturday evening, but he’s sure to hold me responsible for those newspaper articles, and—’

  ‘Not in the least,’ Rachel cut in firmly. ‘He seemed in no doubt as to where the blame for that lay.’ She gave Leonie a pointed look.

  As she had thought, Luke had guessed it was Jeremy… ‘Er—where is Luke this morning?’ she asked warily.

  Rachel shook her head. ‘He didn’t say where he was going, only that he will be back later this evening.’

  Leonie frowned worriedly, very much afraid that she knew exactly where Luke had gone…!

  Rachel reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly. ‘Please don’t worry ab
out it, Leonie; I very much doubt that Luke will do any lasting damage to your young man.’

  ‘He isn’t my young man any longer,’ Leonie assured her with feeling. And it wasn’t Jeremy she was worried about! Not that she didn’t think Luke was more than capable of taking care of himself, she just didn’t think it a good idea for him to come in here to see his mother looking as if he had been in a bar-room brawl.

  ‘That’s probably just as well.’ Rachel patted her hand. ‘My mother told me something quite interesting about men when I was still in my teens,’ she continued musingly. ‘She said that tall men are invariably amiable and easygoing, because they have nothing to prove, but short men tend to turn spiteful if they feel in the least inadequate or threatened—which they very often do. It’s a golden rule that has proved most helpful over the years,’ she added dismissively.

  Leonie could only stare at the other woman. Luke had actually discussed Jeremy with his mother…? He had to have done for Rachel to mention Jeremy’s height.

  ‘Actually, I don’t think Jeremy considers himself short at five feet ten inches tall,’ she said dryly, still wrestling with the problem as to why Luke should have told his mother even that much about Jeremy.

  ’But, at six feet four inches tall, Luke obviously does!’ His mother laughed indulgently. ‘Just think, Leonie,’ she added teasingly. ‘You won’t have to wear flat-heeled shoes now you aren’t going out with him any more!’

  Leonie returned her smile. ‘I fell over my own feet the last time I wore heeled shoes!’

  ‘You’ll soon adjust,’ Rachel assured her with certainty. ‘It just takes a little practice. You—’

  ‘Rachel…?’

  Leonie froze as that familiar voice spoke with quivering uncertainty behind her, both women turning towards the door, Rachel frowning her puzzlement as she looked at the tall man who stood in the open doorway.

  Leonie felt no such puzzlement as she looked at him, drawing in a shaky breath as she slowly stood up, at the same time giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She had no idea what he was doing here, or even how he came to be here, but she suddenly felt very much as if she shouldn’t be here to witness this…

 

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