Substitute Fiancee

by Lee Wilkinson

  'As well you know.'

  'So you did ask Mortimer.' Blaze sounded wryly amused. 'I can just picture his face.'

  'Go ahead and laugh, why don't you?'

  Ignoring the bitterness, Blaze pursued, 'But you still went ahead and walked out. I take it you weren't planning to walk all the way to London?'

  'No. There's a county hotel a few miles down the road. I was hoping to stay there.'

  'Then what?'

  'William Bailey would have helped me.'

  'If you hadn't heard from Varley, why were you so desperate to go just at that minute?'

  Watching the betraying colour rise in her cheeks, he said softly, 'I see. So this sudden urge to run was brought on by what happened last night.'

  He was too close to the truth.

  Forced into a corner, Fran lifted her chin and lied, 'I'm sorry about that I was missing Kirk and wishing he was there...'

  She had the satisfaction of seeing Blaze's jaw tighten with fury.

  Pressing home her unexpected advantage, she added with studied nonchalance, 'It's just as well you didn't get...too involved. I suppose you were missing your fiancée too, and if we'd both lost our heads it could have caused problems.'

  'It could indeed,' he agreed trenchantly. 'Though Melinda is easygoing, I don't think she would have been too happy. Especially in view of our past association...'

  'That's why I thought it would be better if I left before she got here.'

  'I fail to see what difference it makes,' Blaze said, showing an apparent insensitivity quite foreign to his nature. 'That is unless you were intending to tell her everything.'

  'I wasn't intending to tell her anything,' Fran denied sharply. 'But in the circumstances I didn't feel comfortable about staying, and I still think it would be best if I left before she gets here.'

  'Tell me,' he asked silkily, 'is the imminent arrival of my fiancée the only reason you want to leave?'

  'Is it imminent?'

  He shrugged. 'As I haven't spoken to her, I can't say for certain, though I'm beginning to doubt it.'

  'But when Mortimer said you'd gone to London, I thought you'd be sure to see her.'

  'I called at her hotel, but she'd checked out and her car was no longer there.'

  'Then she's probably on her way here now.'

  'If she's still on her way she must have gone via Scotland.' At Fran's startled glance, he explained, 'She checked out last night. About an hour after I rang.'

  'I suppose...' Fran stopped and bit her lip.

  He read the unspoken thought with ease, and told her calmly, 'I considered that possibility, so I contacted the police and gave them all the necessary details. There'd been no reported accident involving a car and driver of that description.'

  Leaning forward, he threw another log on the fire before remarking, 'So it's anyone's guess where she's got to.'

  'There may be a message.'

  "There's no message. I checked with Mortimer before getting into the shower.' Frowning, he added, 'And with only an hour or so to go before the party I would have expected her to be here, if she's going to come.'

  Blaze's mention of the party roused Fran to action. There was no point in her sitting here discussing his fiancée's absence. In all probability Melinda would turn up any minute, and everything would proceed as planned.

  But hopefully without her.

  Striving to sound matter-of-fact, Fran said, Tm quite sure Miss Ross won't miss her own party... But in any event I don't intend to stay.'

  When Blaze said nothing, she announced with more assurance than she felt, 'In fact I insist on leaving.'

  Something in his face, his continued silence, scared her stiff. 'You can't keep me here against my will,' she cried.

  'How melodramatic,' he mocked.

  'But you can't.'

  His lean cheeks creased in a smile. 'Don't bet on it.' Then, calmly, 'A moment ago I asked if the arrival of my fiancée was the only reason you wanted to leave, and you haven't yet answered.'

  'It's the main one,' she replied, with some truth.

  'What other reasons are there? Or perhaps you can't think of any offhand?'

  In desperation, she stammered, 'Kirk w-wouldn't want me to be here if he knew that...'

  'That we'd once been lovers? And almost were again?'

  'He'd be furious.'

  'If he could abandon you here, as he appears to have done, I doubt if he'd care a damn,' Blaze disagreed coolly.

  Giving up all pretence, she pleaded, 'Surely the fact that I want to go is enough?'

  Tm afraid not. It's what / want that counts.'

  'I don't understand why you want me to stay,' she told him helplessly.

  Heavy lids drooping, he glanced at her through his lashes. 'Perhaps I regret last night... Regret not having taken advantage of your...shall we say susceptibility?'

  Her heart lurched, but, knowing he was just taunting her, she said hardily, 'I can assure you I've no intention of behaving so stupidly a second time. And as your fiancée will be here...'

  'I'm beginning to seriously doubt it.'

  'Well, whether she comes or not—'

  But he was shaking his head, his face adamant. 'I'm afraid there are far too many unanswered questions for me to allow you to leave just yet...'

  Shocking in its suddenness, the phone shrilled, making Fran jump.

  'Ah!' Blaze murmured softly. 'With a bit of luck this may help to answer some of them.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  'IF YOU'LL excuse me?' He rose to his feet and reached for the receiver. 'Balantyne. Good... Yes... I see... When...?'

  Listening intently to what Blaze was saying, and watching his dark, intent face, Fran held her breath, but neither his words nor his expression gave anything away.

  'Yes... Yes, do that... Thanks for letting me know.'

  Replacing the receiver, he stood, his well-shaped head a little bent, gazing into space.

  Her eyes fixed on him, she waited.

  When after perhaps a minute he was still silent, unable to bear the tension a moment longer, she asked, 'It wasn't...?'

  He lifted his head to look at her. His face was cool and shuttered. 'No, it wasn't Melinda. However, the call did provide a clue as to her whereabouts.'

  Resuming his seat, he went on, his voice dispassionate, 'With the pair of them being missing, I'd begun to wonder if she and Varley might have run off together—'

  'I would doubt it,' Fran broke in drily.

  Blaze gave her a wry glance. 'Either you're very sure of him, or you don't think Melinda is the type to sacrifice a wealthy husband for a fling with a man—however handsome and charming—on the verge of bankruptcy... Which is it?

  'No, don't bother to tell me; I can see by your face. You're not at all sure of Varley—'

  'Whereas you're quite sure of Miss Ross.'

  It wasn't in Fran's nature to be catty, and as soon as the words were out she regretted them. 'I'm sorry. I had no right to say that.' Then, awkwardly, 'Please go on.'

  'The call was from the detective agency...' Seeing the expression on Fran's face, he shook his head. "There's no need to look so horrified. You can't seriously believe I was having Melinda watched?'

  'I wouldn't put anything past you.'

  Caught on the raw, a white line appeared round his mouth, and, watching him fight for control, Fran wished the words unsaid.

  After a moment, the battle won, he visibly relaxed, and she gave a sigh of relief.

  'Perhaps I asked for that,' he said levelly. 'But the other precautions I took have proved to be necessary.'

  'I can't see that they have,' she disagreed boldly. Then, her resentment obvious, 'It wasn't necessary to have either myself or Kirk watched. I know things haven't gone quite according to plan, but in the main everything has worked out—'

  'Before you go any further,' Blaze broke in coldly, 'perhaps you'd better wait and hear what I have to say.'

  With a sudden feeling of apprehension, she closed her mo
uth and waited.

  'After shaking off his shadow, Varley did a neat disappearing trick. Though a couple of the men from the agency cast around they were unable to pick up his trail. But it seems he got a bit too confident, and he made the mistake of going back to his apartment, which was still being watched.

  'Perhaps his plans had changed, or maybe he'd gone to pick up something important he'd forgotten... But, whatever, he only stayed a short time. The really intriguing thing is this: he wasn't alone...'

  As the implications sank in, Fran's eyes widened.

  "The woman who was with him was described as a good-looking blonde, about five foot six and slimly built, driving a white Porsche.*

  'It doesn't make sense,' Fran whispered dazedly.

  'That's what I thought at first,' Blaze agreed grimly. 'But I'm rapidly changing my mind. If one thing I already suspect is true, it makes a great deal of sense. But until I have confirmation...'

  A knock at the door cut through his words.

  'Come in.'

  The door opened to admit the butler, who, having cleared his throat, said verbosely, 'I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but you gave instructions that you were to be told as soon as Mr Henderson arrived.'

  'He's here?'

  'Yes, sir. Hannah has just shown him into the main living room.'

  "Thank you, Mortimer. Please tell Mr Henderson I'll be down directly.'

  As the door closed behind the stately black-clad figure Blaze turned to Fran, and, a glint in his eye she was unable to decipher, suggested, 'Perhaps you'd like to come with me? You may find it interesting.'

  Something about the invitation and the way he was watching her made all her nerves start to jangle.

  'Very well.' Taking a deep breath, and doing her best to appear calm and composed, though her legs were oddly shaky, she accompanied him down the stairs, one hand on the banister.

  They had reached the main hall, which had been transformed for the party, when he stopped and said, 'Oh, just one thing. I'd prefer it if you didn't wear this.' Before she could guess his intention he had removed Kirk's ring and slipped it into his pocket.

  When they reached the living room, a stocky man in his late fifties, with grizzled hair and twinkling hazel eyes, rose to his feet. He was wearing well-cut evening clothes.

  'Edward. Long time no see... I got your message.' He held out his hand.

  'Richard.' The two men shook hands cordially. 'I hope my asking you to come early didn't inconvenience you too much?'

  'Not at all. Since Edna died I've only had myself to consider. And, as you know, I'm always glad to be of service.'

  Blaze put an arm around Fran's slender waist and drew her forward. 'Darling, may I introduce you to Richard Henderson, an old friend of the family? Richard, I'd like you to meet Francesca Holt.'

  Thrown by the darling, she stammered, 'H-how do you do, Mr Henderson.'

  'Richard, please, and I hope I may call you Francesca?'

  'Of course.' A pleasant, open face, and a slight gap between his two front teeth gave him a boyish look, and, taking an instant liking to him, she answered his friendly smile.

  He enfolded her hand in a light but firm grip. 'It's very nice to meet you. I was delighted when Edward mentioned that it was to be an engagement party. In my humble opinion he's been a bachelor for far too long.'

  'Oh, but I'm not—'

  'Richard is a highly respected QC,' Blaze broke in smoothly, 'but his other great interest—one in which he's an acknowledged expert—is jewellery and precious stones.'

  Turning to the older man, he said, 'Like everyone else, you're here to enjoy yourself, but before the other guests arrive I was hoping you would take a look at Francesca's necklace and tell me what you think.'

  'So that's why you suggested I brought my glass,' Richard said cheerfully. 'Well, I'm more than happy to sing for my supper.'

  Since jewellery and precious stones had been mentioned Blaze had been watching Fran's face for any sign of discomfort, but the only emotion he could find there was a look of perplexity.

  'Why don't you sit down?' He steered her to a chair.

  Instead of going to the safe, as she'd expected, Blaze drew the leather pouch from his pocket and handed it to the other man. Surprised, she wondered why he'd been carrying so valuable a thing around with him.

  Opening the drawstring, Richard tipped out the glittering contents, 'The Balantyne rubies, of course!' he exclaimed. 'I remember the last time I saw these was at your mother and father's wedding...' Then, sounding puzzled, 'There's the same number of stones, but they look entirely different.'

  'We've just had them reset.'

  'A great improvement, if I may say so. The new design shows the stones off to much better advantage.'

  'I thought so too,' Blaze agreed.

  'So you'd like my opinion?'

  At Blaze's nod, Richard fitted a jeweller's glass into his eye and gave the necklace a long and careful examination. Then, putting it back in the pouch, he handed it to Blaze and returned the glass to his pocket.

  'Well, I must congratulate you. The actual workmanship is very fine, and though the stones themselves wouldn't stand up to expert scrutiny, it's really an excellent fake. With today's technological advances it looks, to all intents and purposes, as good as the real thing, and would fool most people.

  'As far as I'm concerned it makes a lot of sense for your future wife to wear this, and keep the original safe in the bank vaults.'

  'Thanks. That's more or less what I expected you to say.' Clapping him on the shoulder. Blaze added, 'Now, if you don't mind, it's high time Francesca and I went to get ready for this party... I don't need to tell you to ring for anything you want, and to make yourself at home.'

  Turning to Fran, who was sitting in stunned silence, he urged her to her feet. 'Come on, darling, we need to change into our glad rags.'

  Limp and unresisting, like someone in a state of shock, she allowed herself to be shepherded from the room.

  When they reached Blaze's private sitting room he tossed the pouch carelessly on to the coffee table; the drawstring hadn't been tightened, and a length of the necklace spilled from it.

  The storm had finally moved away, and a ray of watery sun slanting through the window picked out the rubies like a spotlight.

  Staring at it as though hypnotised, Fran denied hoarsely, 'It can't be a fake! It can't! There must be some mistake.'

  'Oh, there's been a mistake all right,' Blaze agreed grimly. 'And Varley made it. But we haven't time to discuss it now. The other guests will be arriving before too long.'

  Her jaw dropped. 'You're not going ahead with the party?'

  'It's much too late to cancel it.'

  'But how will you...?'

  'Explain Melinda's absence? I won't. I have no intention of looking a complete fool by having to admit that another man has stolen not only the Balantyne rubies, but my fiancée along with them.'

  'B-but I thought the whole point was to introduce Miss Ross to—'

  "The whole point was to introduce my fiancée... It's fortunate that none of the people coming here tonight have met Melinda...or even know her name, for that matter...'

  After a brief, but significant pause, he went on blandly, 'So it should be relatively easy to find a substitute fiancée—'

  Light beginning to dawn, Fran broke in, 'You don't mean that you want me to...?'

  'That's exactly what I mean. It's the only answer. I'd already decided that before we went downstairs.'

  'So that's why you called me darling,' she said in a strangled voice. 'Why you acted as you did. You wanted Mr Henderson to believe...'

  'That you were my intended,' he finished for her drily. 'And he did. Richard is one of the shrewdest men I know, and he never gave it a second thought, so we should have no trouble convincing the rest.'

  If Blaze had meant nothing to her she might have been able to carry it off. But, feeling as she did, she couldn't bear to pretend. Couldn't bear to stand by his side a
nd receive all the good wishes intended for another woman. It would break her heart.

  'No,' she protested raggedly. 'I won't do it.'

  'My dear Francesca, you have no option. You're in this right up to your beautiful neck.'

  'But I'm not! I hadn't the faintest idea there was anything going on between Kirk and Melinda. And if the necklace is a fake I swear I didn't know.'

  'I only have your word for that. You were the one who delivered it... So unless you want to end up in prison, along with your ex-boyfriend, you'll do exactly as I say.'

  'No,' she cried in a panic. 'I won't let you coerce me. I haven't done anything wrong—'

  'Even supposing that's true, it won't be easy to prove it.'

  'It is true!'

  He shrugged. 'It hardly matters whether it is or not. When Varleys folds, as it's bound to, you'll need another post. Once it gets into the papers that their up-and-coming designer has been mixed up in something like this...'

  Watching her face, seeing the look of despair that his words evoked, he said, 'Exactly. Even if you're whiter than white, mud has a nasty habit of sticking. You'll be finished in the jewellery business.'

  Still she made an effort to fight back. 'I'll find another career. I've done it before.'

  'But you won't do it again. I'll make sure of that.'

  "Then I'll take a job as a shop assistant, or a waitress.'

  Shaking his head, he said with deadly intent, 'If you refuse to do as I ask, I'll see that you don't get a job of any kind. And should you manage to get one, even if it's stacking shelves in a supermarket, I'll make certain you don't keep it.'

  Appalled, she whispered, 'You can't hound me like that!'

  He laughed, white teeth gleaming. 'I assure you I can! I can wield quite a lot of power, direct or indirect, when I choose to.'

  Bitterly, she said, 'I'm surprised you think I'm worth the trouble.'

  'My motto has always been Don't get mad, get even. I don't allow anyone to make a fool of me and walk away unscathed.'

  'But I had nothing to do with it.'

  'You may not have helped plan the whole thing, in fact I'm sure you didn't, but you certainly played your part. Even if it was unwittingly, you came here and stalled me long enough to give Varley a chance to get a head start. Now we've reached the end of the line. You owe me, Francesca, and you'll do what I want you to do.