Just Rewards (Harte Family Saga)

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  He was the best-looking man she had met in a long time, and so tasty; she really fancied him. Of course, he was much older, but she did not care about that. Age did not matter, only sexual attraction was important. And money. Her mind swung to Evan, whom she could see out of the corner of her eye. Jealousy spiraled, and Angharad suddenly hoped things would go wrong for her. Perhaps there would be problems with the birth; or perhaps the twins would be ugly. She didn’t care what it was, as long as it was bad. She wished disasters on her sister—well, her adopted sister. Evan had always had everything, and that just wasn’t fair. Ugly babies and a bad marriage, Angharad thought, throwing Evan a spiteful look, pouring silent curses on the other woman.

  Only Linnet noticed the malevolent look on Angharad’s face, and she shriveled inside, turned away filled with an unexpected sense of foreboding.

  Part Three

  DUO

  Fortune is not satisfied with inflicting one calamity.

  —PUBLILIUS SYRUS, MAXIM 274

  18

  Linnet was so excited she picked up the phone and dialed Evan’s home number without a second thought, wanting to convey her pleasure immediately.

  After numerous rings, just when she was about to hang up, Evan was saying hello.

  “It’s Linnet!” she cried, “and I can’t get over your sketches for the wedding gowns. They’re fantastic! Whenever did you design fifty dresses? When did you find the time?”

  Evan chuckled. “I’m thrilled you like them, Linnet. I designed at least twelve of them for you. When I was creating your wedding gown last year. But we decided to go with the Tudor princess look in the end, so I just put the rest away. The others I’ve created over the past few years, in my spare time. I liked most of them, so I kept them. I did throw a few away, the ones I thought weren’t very good.”

  “You didn’t! That’s a crime. Please keep everything you design in the future, and let me be the judge. You’re far too critical of yourself.”

  “I promise I won’t ditch a thing, not even a rough sketch. How’s that?”

  “Just great, and thanks for sending your portfolio over to the store. I do appreciate it, and I hope we can start putting a few of the designs in the works very soon. For all those June weddings that will be coming up.”

  “Of course we can. I’ll send you an e-mail about some of the seamstresses I’ve used, and which designs I think they’ll handle best. How’s that?”

  “So you can’t come to the store? Is that what you’re saying?” Linnet asked quietly. “Not even to discuss the gowns with me?”

  “Oh, Linnet, I wish I could. But Dr. Addney has simply forbidden it,” Evan murmured, at once understanding Linnet’s disappointment and need for her to be at Harte’s. “He says I have to stay at home and rest, not exert myself in any way, or get myself agitated or stressed out. But listen, you can come over to the apartment, can’t you? We could look at the sketches here, make our plans, choose the seamstresses.”

  “What a great idea, but unfortunately I’m really jammed today.”

  “That’s all right. We’ll do it later in the week. Whenever … . Actually, Mom’s here, she’s going to go with me to meet Emily at that apartment in Belgrave Square. The one which belongs to her friend Lavinia Constable, who’s off to Los Angeles. I think Gid might have mentioned it to you?”

  “Yes, he did. The other day. And isn’t it a funny coincidence that it’s near Emma’s house in the square?”

  “That’s the best part, being so close to Paula and Shane. As far as the flat is concerned, it’s only a rental for a year, Linnet. But the great thing is that it has been renovated. It’s brand-new, and unfurnished. So we could use our own things. Gid’s really excited, he’s seen it already. If I like it, then it’s a done deal, because he thinks it would be perfect for us, if only on a temporary basis.”

  “Since Gid likes it, I’m sure you will, and if it’s halfway decent, rent it for the year. You can’t continue to live in Gideon’s bachelor flat once the twins come, you’ll be cramped to death.”

  “I know. I thought we’d be able to furnish the apartment quickly, maybe find a lot of the things we need at Harte’s.”

  “You will, and I’ll help you. So will Emily. We’ll make it livable for you, at least.”

  “We’ll have to hurry,” Evan said, laughing.

  “You do feel okay, don’t you?” Linnet asked, concerned.

  “I’m great, honestly, and I’m sure I’ll deliver in late February, early March, which is when I’m supposed to.” There was a moment’s hesitation before Evan continued. “I’m so sorry you have only India to help you at the moment. I know how tough it can be at the store. When is Tessa coming back from Paris?”

  “In a few days, once Jean-Claude goes off to Afghanistan. He wanted her to spend some time with him at his home. Did she tell you she’s going to meet his son?”

  “No, she didn’t. But that’s nice, and it’s a good idea, don’t you think? Now that they’re engaged.”

  “Yes,” Linnet agreed and added softly, “My mother told me last night that Tessa’s divorce should be through at the end of this week. So they can get married fairly soon.”

  There was a silence.

  Linnet said, “Have I lost you, Evan?”

  “No, I’m here,” she answered. “I was just startled to hear that bit of news. Will Tessa be leaving Harte’s, moving to Paris?” Her voice was low, almost conspiratorial.

  “I don’t know anything …” Linnet left her sentence unfinished and then cleared her throat. “I don’t think she’s said a word to Paula.” The other line began to shrill, and Linnet exclaimed, “Let’s talk later today, Evan. I’ve got to take this.”

  “I’ll call you after I’ve seen the flat,” Evan responded and hung up.

  Linnet pressed the other button. “Hello? Linnet O’Neill.”

  “It’s India,” her cousin said. “Have you got a moment?”

  “Yes, of course. Is something wrong, India? You sound strange.”

  “I think I’ve got a problem, well, a sort of developing problem.”

  “Here or at the Leeds store? Or is it personal?”

  “Personal,” India announced and then sighed. “Mrs. Caldwell, that’s the grandmother of Dusty’s child, if you remember, has taken a turn for the worse. I just got off the phone with Dusty, and he posed a very difficult question. I didn’t know how to answer him. I need your advice, Linnet. Can I come along to your office?”

  “Absolutely. I’m free right now.”

  Several seconds later India walked into Linnet’s office, came over to her desk, sat down, and blew her cousin a kiss. “Sorry to dump on you at ten o’clock in the morning, but I simply don’t have the answer for Dusty. I’m a bit baffled.”

  Leaning over the desk, focusing on India, Linnet suggested, “Tell me what it is, let’s go from there.”

  “Dusty thinks Molly Caldwell’s going to die. Soon. He’s had a premonition about it for over a week now, he says, and his dilemma is what to do about taking the child to see her grandmother. Should he? Or would it be better if he didn’t?”

  “Wow, that’s a tough one.”

  “Don’t tell me. I’ve wrestled with it for the last hour.” Linnet sat back in her chair, a reflective look settling on her face. She closed her eyes, concentrated for a few moments; then she snapped her eyes open, sat up, and said to India, “Let’s just analyze it … let’s bring it down to our own personal level. For example, if Paula were dying, would we tell Tessa to take Adele to see her grandmother?”

  India bit her lip, shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, look at it this way. If Great-Aunt Edwina, your grandmother, were dying, and if you had a child of your own, and your child had been close to Edwina, what would you do?”

  “I think I’d take her. For Edwina’s sake as well as the child’s.”

  “I feel the same way. And after all, India, Atlanta doesn’t have to be told her grandmother is dying, no
w, does she?”

  “No, she doesn’t,” India agreed. “I have a feeling Dusty’s concerned about Molly’s condition, how she looks, whether she’s hooked up to tubes. He doesn’t want Atlanta to be frightened. And I also have a feeling he thinks perhaps Atlanta should remember her grandmother the way she was the last time they saw each other.”

  “Do you want to go back to Yorkshire? Help Dusty with this?”

  “Yes, I think it would please him, make it easier for everyone, in a sense. On the other hand, it’s Thursday, and I’ve only been back here for three days and a bit. My desk is piled high.”

  “I know, so was mine. Do you have anything truly pressing, India?”

  “Not really. But I should follow up on some of the clothes and accessories we ordered for spring. Then again, I suppose a day won’t make too much difference. I could leave tomorrow morning, early, and meet Dusty in Leeds.”

  “Is it pressing? Is Mrs. Caldwell actually at death’s door?”

  “Not exactly, as far as I know. However, the woman who helps her told Dusty that Molly was getting weaker, and also fretting about Atlanta.”

  “Then go today. Go now, India,” Linnet said. “You can be in Leeds in several hours. Why waste time? Tempt Providence? I think it’s awfully important that the child sees her grandmother again, and is given a proper explanation about why she’s in hospital. Also, I think it’s important for Molly Caldwell to see her granddaughter, so she can die in peace. And you should be with Dusty, as his fiancée.”

  “I’d planned to go with him if he did decide to take Atlanta to see Molly.”

  “I believe that to be very fitting, compassionate,” Linnet said, in a soft voice. “We must always be kind to people.”

  “Yes. And thanks, Linnet, for helping me to help Dusty make a decision,” India answered, the faint Irish lilt echoing in her melodious voice. She gave her cousin a little smile. “I know he’ll go along with whatever I suggest.”

  After India had left, Linnet began to collect Evan’s sketches from her worktable. She put them carefully into the portfolio, thinking about India’s upcoming wedding. Evan had designed a beautiful crinoline gown of ivory taffeta for her. Edwardian in style. How talented she was.

  A long, very heavy sigh escaped as Linnet tied the string on the portfolio, put it at the back of her worktable, and returned to her desk.

  She sat staring into space for a few minutes, thinking about Dusty Rhodes and the problem he would face when Molly Caldwell did die. She now knew quite a lot about Melinda Caldwell; Gideon had made it his business to find out as much as he could in order to protect India.

  The woman was dangerous, no question about it. She was a drug addict, could be violent, and apparently she was difficult to deal with. There was no way she would give up custody of her child, Linnet was quite certain of that. And so was Great-Aunt Edwina, who had worried aloud about India to Linnet during the wedding festivities at Pennistone Royal this past weekend.

  “It will be a replay of the Mark Longden situation with Tessa,” Edwina had pronounced dourly. “Just you wait and see. Dusty’s in for a lot of trouble, mark my words.”

  “What can we do?” Linnet had probed as she guided Edwina away from her sisters, with whom she had been standing—Elizabeth, Emily’s mother, and Daisy, Paula’s mother and Linnet’s grandmother. They both had big ears, were consistently curious about the entire family, and loved intrigue and gossip. In fact, it often struck Linnet that they thrived on it.

  Edwina, not one to miss a trick, had given Linnet an amused glance and said, “Yes, better to find a quiet corner to chat. My siblings are very nosy.”

  Linnet had laughed, taken Edwina to the other end of the Stone Hall, and her great-aunt had gone on. “I shall advise Dusty to get a top-notch solicitor to handle the situation. Maybe we can avoid a court case if he has the right firm. Better use the one Emma and Paula have always used. Mmm, that’s a good idea. And then there’s money. That might well be the answer.” All this had been said in a decisive tone, and Edwina’s dour mood had lightened as she spoke.

  “Money isn’t always the best currency, though,” Linnet had answered succinctly.

  Edwina had given her an admiring look. “Spoken like a true Harte, dear Linnet. And I must tell you this while I think of it. I rely on you to stand by India, in your very clever and daring way. Just in case I’m not around, that is.”

  “Are you going somewhere, Edwina?” Linnet had asked swiftly, addressing her by her first name, as she often did everyone in the family.

  Edwina had laughed heartily. “No, I’m not planning any trips. But you never know, I might just pop my clogs, even though that would be such a nuisance. I’ve so much to do at the moment, so many engagements.”

  Linnet had thrown her arms around her great-aunt, hugging her tightly, laughing with her, once again thinking how extraordinary she was.

  And Edwina’s right, Linnet now thought. Dusty must have the best law firm behind him. She made up her mind to talk to Paula later today about it, get her mother to introduce him to the solicitors she used, Crawford, Creighton, Phipps, and whatever. They were big time. And that was the kind of lawyer Dusty would need to deal with Melinda if the occasion arose.

  No sooner had this thought entered her head than the phone rang. When she picked it up and said, “Hello? Linnet O’Neill here,” it was her mother who spoke.

  “Good morning, Linnet dear,” Paula said. “Are you very busy at the moment?”

  “No, Mummy, I’ve just been going over some really gorgeous sketches for wedding gowns, Evan’s designs. I’d love to show them to you if you’ve got a minute.” It had suddenly struck her that this might be a wonderful opportunity to broach the idea of a floor devoted to brides.

  “I’d love to see them, but not now. We have a problem. A very serious problem. Could you come to my office?”

  “You mean now?”

  “At once, Linnet.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice rising.

  “Just come to my office, Linnet, please.”

  “Right away, Mummy.” Linnet dropped the receiver in the cradle, jumped up, and went out. As she left the outer office, she told her secretary where she was going and headed for the chief executive’s suite, almost running down the corridor.

  Her mind was racing as she pushed open the door of her mother’s domain and said to Jonelle, one of her secretaries, “The boss lady sent for me.”

  Jonelle smiled at her. “Go right in, Linnet.”

  Stepping into the spacious and beautiful room which had been Emma’s office from the day the store opened until her death, Linnet went cold when she saw Jack Figg sitting next to her mother. Paula was perched on the edge of the sofa, looking the epitome of elegance in her well-tailored black suit, but also very tense, taut.

  Apprehension flooded Linnet, but she swallowed it back as she walked toward them, saying, “Mummy … Jack … what’s going on?”

  “Hello, Linnet,” Jack said, sounding a bit weary. His voice was gruff. He had dark rings under his eyes, which were bloodshot.

  She stared at her mother, an auburn brow lifting quizzically.

  Paula stared back, smiled at her somewhat falteringly, and patted the sofa. “Come and sit with me, darling. Jack has some news. News I regard as rather bad, if not, indeed, disastrous.”

  Without responding, Linnet did as she was bidden. She was eaten up with curiosity.

  “Would you fill Linnet in, please, Jack?” Paula said, sighing.

  He nodded, but for a moment he didn’t say anything. He sat gazing at the two women, mother and daughter, heirs of Emma Harte, who had always worn her uniform both literally and figuratively. Today mother and daughter were both dressed in the same kind of smart black suit Emma had favored, obviously couture, and worn with white shirts. Both in high heels. But no jewelry except for pearls on their ears, watches on their wrists, and plain gold wedding bands on the appropriate fingers. Just like Emma. Her style down to the l
ast detail. Intelligent, brilliant women. Kind and loving women. He couldn’t bear it if anything happened to either of them. He cursed silently, frustrated and boiling inside.

  Taking a deep breath, Jack now focused on Linnet and said calmly, “I have excellent reasons to believe Angharad Hughes has hooked up with Jonathan Ainsley.”

  Linnet nodded. “I’m not going to say I’m surprised, Jack, because I’m not. We had a discussion about this very thing the day of the wedding.”

  “We did indeed.”

  “What have you found out?” Linnet asked, feeling a sudden tension in her chest.

  “As you know, Angharad went to see him on Friday morning at his house in Thirsk. What happened at that meeting we’ve no way of knowing, but she was there for about thirty minutes, no longer. Some time later that day, Ainsley went to London. Angharad was at the wedding, as we all know, but she left Yorkshire first thing on Monday morning. She took the early train to King’s Cross and checked in at the hotel owned by George Thomas, her father’s old friend.”

  “And her father and mother returned to London on Tuesday, along with their daughter Elayne,” Linnet pointed out. “I believe Owen Hughes and Elayne left for New York yesterday. Isn’t that so?”

  “It is,” Jack replied, nodding. “Marietta is still at the hotel. She’s staying until Evan gives birth; she told me that at the reception. I’m sure everyone knows this.”

  “We do. And she’s with Evan at this moment.” Linnet glanced at her watch. “I believe they are on their way to view an apartment in Belgrave Square, which was arranged by Emily.”

  “That’s right,” Paula volunteered. “Emily’s old friend Lavinia Constable just did the place up only to get a marvelous job offer to do the sets for an important movie in Los Angeles. She’s gone away for a year.”

  “So we know the whereabouts of all the Hugheses,” Jack said acidly, “including Angharad.”