The Innocent's One-Night Confession

by Sara Craven

  He cleared his throat. ‘You’re getting married? I—I didn’t know.’

  She shrugged. ‘It can hardly be a surprise. I thought Zandor would have mentioned it.’ Her eyes rested briefly on Alanna who had the odd sensation she’d stopped breathing. ‘To all of you.’

  Mr Healey interposed again. ‘Well, we wish you every happiness, my dear. It’s certainly richly deserved. Isn’t it, everyone?’

  And nodded as a chorus of voices assured him he was perfectly correct in his assumption.

  Only Alanna remained silent, not trusting herself to speak as she fought the wave of misery threatening to break over her and sweep her away all over again.

  A possibility she could not risk.

  Lili’s arrival explains so much, she thought wretchedly. His sudden interest in Leahaven Manor for one thing, and my hasty dismissal from Hawkseye for another. Not revenge for rejecting him, after all, but a safety precaution.

  But could he really have imagined I’d somehow be tempted to indiscretion? That I could really be that low?

  Apparently, he did, and maybe our last encounter gave him good reason to think I was capable of anything.

  She washed the bitterness of that away with a gulp of orange juice.

  But nothing could erase her dread of the evening to come. Of having to watch Zandor, happy with the girl he’d loved and chosen.

  Or of having to desperately pretend that she didn’t care, and that she remained the only one who knew that her heart was breaking.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HAD ANY OTHER dinner party in the history of the world ever lasted as long as this one?

  Alanna asked herself the question in silent desperation as she struggled to eat from each course set in front of her.

  No food, even as delicious as this certainly was, could compensate for the forced conversations, begun then petering out into yet more awkward silences.

  Even Niamh Harrington’s twinkling buoyancy seemed to have temporarily deserted her and the entire occasion, unlikely to have been more than a muted celebration at best, appeared, somehow, to have turned into a wake.

  But why?

  Her pseudo-engagement was undoubtedly deeply unpopular—and the sooner it ended the better—but it had been solely Mrs Harrington’s idea to invite Felicity, and if Alanna thought for one moment that the other girl had serious feelings for Gerard, she’d have had real sympathy for her.

  But she didn’t think so, not by a country mile. On the contrary, she believed that Felicity was prompted mainly by self-interest, and this, coupled with Gerard’s open indifference, did not bode well for a shared future, even when she herself was finally out of the picture.

  But this lack of judgement, bordering on malice, by Niamh Harrington hardly accounted for the air of gloomy uneasiness which permeated the gathering.

  And if Zandor’s arrival was the cause, why should anyone but herself be affected by his decision to marry his current girlfriend, astonishingly beautiful and clearly known to them all?

  After all, despite his wealth, or maybe because of it, he was clearly the outsider in the Harrington clan, so why should they care what he did?

  Unless, she thought painfully, her own secret devastation at the news had somehow imparted itself to everyone else, like firedamp spreading, unseen but lethal through an underground tunnel.

  But without, God willing, the subsequent explosion.

  As for Gerard, he seemed to be immersed in some inner struggle of his own, she noted with bewilderment.

  Maybe he thought Zandor’s acquisition of Hawkseye Publishing for his media section might be bad news for the Bazaar Vert chain, which could only form a small part of his business empire. Was he worried in case his cousin was planning a sell-off?

  Or perhaps he was simply galled that his grandmother had chosen to inflict Felicity upon them again.

  Back to square one, she thought. Except he looked far more unhappy than angry, as if some blow had fallen from which he might never recover.

  It occurred to her, oddly, that it was the most emotion she’d ever seen him show. That something had shaken him out of his usual pleasant equability.

  And, from the one brief glance Alanna had permitted herself in his direction, she’d seen that Zandor also seemed grimly preoccupied while Lili had rarely lifted those brilliant blue eyes from her plate.

  Hardly the picture of a happy couple...

  Hastily, she closed her mind to that way of thinking, knowing it was more than she could bear.

  Perhaps they’d all just stumbled into the evening from hell, she told herself wearily, and were simply trying to deal with it in their own particular ways.

  She was startled out of her reverie by the sound of her name, spoken by Niamh Harrington in a cooing tone which automatically prompted her to tense.

  ‘So, you’ve joined the family twice over, dear girl, now that Zandor apparently owns your little publishing company. How will you like working for him, I wonder?’

  Alanna made herself meet the sharp blue gaze with outer tranquillity. ‘I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed, Mrs Harrington. I’m no longer with Hawkseye, so the situation doesn’t arise.’

  ‘No longer with Hawkseye?’ Mrs Harrington repeated the words meditatively. ‘Surely you don’t mean you’ve had the sack?’ She rounded on Zandor. ‘What can you be thinking of, adding your cousin’s intended to the jobless? That’s an unkind trick, and her with a wedding in the offing. Can’t we all persuade you to think again—be merciful.’ And her gaze, once more operating on all cylinders, twinkled round the table.

  ‘No, please.’ Alanna felt her skin turn to fire, as this unexpected humiliation bit deep. ‘I—I wasn’t fired. I actually decided to leave.’

  But Niamh hadn’t finished with her yet. ‘A job you loved.’ She frowned as if bewildered. ‘But why?’

  Zandor spoke, his voice as cold as his eyes. ‘I believe she cited personal reasons.’ He shrugged. ‘Whatever they might be.’

  ‘A little mystery.’ Mrs Harrington clapped her hands. ‘Don’t leave us in the dark, Alanna. Tell all.’

  Which she couldn’t do, even if she wanted to...

  Anger welled up inside her as she forced herself to meet Zandor’s brooding, bitter gaze.

  She said with icy clarity, ‘There’s no mystery. Your grandson knows my reasons as well as I do, Mrs Harrington, if not better, and is well aware I really had no choice. And, as that’s all I have to say, perhaps we could change the subject, and avoid boring everyone else to death.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lili move, lean forward, her blue eyes flashing angrily at her, only for Zandor to place a hand on her arm, as if halting any possible accusation in its tracks.

  I wonder, she thought, her throat tightening, exactly what he’s told her? A full confession of how I threw myself at him? How I told him I loved him? How I went willingly into his arms that afternoon in the orchard?

  If so, and I know now how cruel he can be, no wonder she’s glaring at me as if I’m her bitterest enemy?

  She decided her best plan was to grab Gerard as soon as the meal was over and ask to be taken home, pleading a headache. But when she reached the sitting room where coffee was being served, he’d already been commandeered by his grandmother, and made to join her on the sofa, where she was talking to him quietly and earnestly, drawing an invisible line around them that excluded everyone else.

  And especially me, thought Alanna.

  She saw Zandor enter the room with Lili, and realising there could still be a scene in the making, headed straight for the open French doors and the lamplit patio beyond.

  She paused at the edge of the stone flags to breathe in the cooler evening air, and the aromas of night-scented stocks, lavender and roses reaching her from the shadows of the garden.

  She heard a step behind her and turned, instantly on guard, but it was Richard Healey who was approaching, carrying a cup and saucer in each hand.

  ‘I’ve brought you som
e coffee, my dear.’ He handed her one of the cups, adding, ‘I didn’t know if you wanted cream.’

  ‘No thanks.’ She could have kissed him. ‘Black will be fine.’

  ‘I dare say you need it.’ He paused. ‘I’m afraid this evening hasn’t worked out at all as planned, and I apologise for that.’

  ‘It’s hardly your fault.’

  ‘Except I should have put my foot down years ago, when Caroline and I were first married.’ His tone was sombre. ‘The fact is Maurice and I totally underestimated our mother-in-law’s influence over her children, and poor Meg, of course, never stood a chance.

  ‘But one of them fought back.’

  She cleared her throat. ‘You mean Marianne.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Then you know the story.’

  ‘Joanne gave me the general outline.’

  His mouth relaxed into a smile. ‘Of course—the family’s jungle drum.’ He hesitated. ‘But did she also tell you about Lili?’

  Her throat tightened. ‘She—was mentioned.’

  ‘Then, once again, there’s no need to say more. Let the past remain in the past, and don’t worry about it. Just plan for a happy future.’

  He sighed. ‘I could wish, of course, that Zandor had chosen another occasion to drop his bombshell, but—’ his smile became a grin ‘—on the other hand, I can’t deny I enjoyed seeing his grandmother wrong-footed for once.’

  Is that what really happened? Alanna asked herself as she drank her coffee, feeling the dark, rich brew putting heart into her.

  Zandor’s so clearly an outsider that it shouldn’t matter to Niamh Harrington if he decides to get married—unless she has another Felicity all picked out for him?

  But I can’t let it matter to me either. I must let the past remain in the past, just as Mr Healey said, even though I can’t foresee a happy future unless it’s to know that Gerard will never form part of it.

  And as she accompanied Mr Healey towards the house, she sighed soundlessly.

  On the threshold of the drawing room, she halted in surprise. Apart from Gerard and his grandmother, the room was deserted but the atmosphere felt like walking into a force field.

  Richard Healey paused too. ‘Where is everyone?’

  Niamh Harrington sat bolt upright, her lips compressed. ‘Zandor has gone, and the girl with him, and Caroline is saying goodnight to Felicity, something Gerard here has declined to do.’

  ‘Because I’d have been more inclined to say good riddance,’ Gerard returned icily. ‘Think of that before you invite her another time.’

  Mrs Harrington’s pink and white complexion turned a dull red. ‘How dare you speak to me like that, Gerard. You forget yourself.’

  ‘Oh, no, Grandam.’ He shook his head almost wearily. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my memory. On the contrary, I wish there was.’

  There was a note in his voice that Alanna had never heard before. Something raw and savage.

  Something that distracted her from the tormenting image of Zandor and Lili going off together, maybe back to that same hotel to make love in that same bed, and prompted her to intervene, saying quickly and quietly, ‘We should be going too. Don’t forget we’re lunching with my parents tomorrow.’

  For an odd moment, they both looked at her as if they had no idea who she was or why she was there, then Gerard seemed to give himself a mental shake, producing a placatory smile.

  ‘Yes, of course, darling. I was wondering where you’d got to. Has Uncle Richard been looking after you?’

  ‘Like a saint.’ From somewhere she conjured up a serene smile to direct at Niamh. ‘Goodnight, Mrs Harrington. Enjoy the rest of your stay.’

  * * *

  As they drove back to her flat, Gerard still wore a preoccupied air.

  Expecting to be dropped off, she was surprised to hear him say abruptly, ‘May I come in?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ she said, unable to think up an excuse.

  ‘Where’s Susie?’ he asked, surveying the empty living room.

  ‘In Lewes,’ she said reluctantly. ‘At her aunt’s silver wedding.’ She paused. ‘Coffee?’

  ‘Fine.’

  She ground the beans and was spooning them into the cafetière when he came up behind her, putting his arms round her and turning her to face him.

  ‘Gerard.’ Surprised and not pleased, she tried to free herself. ‘You’ve made me spill...’

  She was silenced by the sudden heated pressure of his mouth on hers, greedy and probing, while his hands fumbled for her breasts.

  For a minute, shock stilled her, then she began to struggle in earnest, her own hands braced—pushing against his chest, until, eventually, she had to reinforce her resistance by bringing her heel down hard on his instep.

  Gerard gasped, swore and released her. He stepped back and stood staring at the tiled floor, his shoulders slumped.

  Alanna leaned against the counter top, fighting to control her breathing.

  She said shakily, ‘What the hell was all that about?’

  ‘I hoped—us.’ He spread his hands almost helplessly. ‘Being engaged, for God’s sake.’

  ‘But we’re not,’ she objected. ‘You know that. You asked me for help and I agreed—against my better judgement, and largely because I wouldn’t wish Felicity Bradham on my worst enemy.

  ‘But I certainly didn’t agree to anything else, and now the whole business is spiralling out of control, just at the moment when even your grandmother must see Felicity as a non-starter.’

  ‘Grandam sees only what she wants,’ he said bitterly.

  ‘Then just stand up to her as you did tonight,’ she urged. ‘You’ll be amazed at the support you could get from the rest of the family.’

  His voice was weary. ‘What’s the point of fighting a battle when you know the war’s already been lost?’

  ‘Oh, cut the self-pity,’ Alanna flung back at him, her raw nerves driving her to exasperation. ‘Because in the general scheme of things you’re a front runner.’

  Ignoring the scattered coffee, she grabbed two beakers from a cupboard, dropped a tea bag into each of them and poured on boiling water.

  On her way to the fridge for milk, she began ticking items off on her fingers. ‘You’re healthy, good-looking, with a great job, a terrific flat and the kind of leisure most people dream about.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said heavily. ‘And I’d give up all of it if I could only take back the past year. Live it all over again—differently.’

  ‘Wouldn’t we all?’ she said bitingly. ‘Well, dream on, because it’s never going to happen. Miss the first bite and you won’t get another.’

  ‘Talking of missing out.’ He gave her a curious look. ‘What was all that business over dinner? Exactly why did you leave Hawkseye?’

  Alanna had been expecting this.

  ‘Because I realised I’d just announced my engagement to my new boss’s cousin, and I knew someone was bound to make the connection,’ she said, with a shrug. ‘I figured there were almost bound to be redundancies, and if my name wasn’t on the list, things might have got complicated.’

  ‘More than they already are?’ he asked ironically, then frowned. ‘All the same, it seems an extreme reaction.’

  ‘Not to me,’ she returned briskly. ‘Believe me, I’m better out of it.’

  He said slowly, ‘I even wondered if the job meant less to you because you were warming to the idea of marrying me.’

  She handed him a beaker of tea. ‘No,’ she said. Then, more gently: ‘No, Gerard, I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Because I want you to know that wouldn’t be a problem.’

  ‘But it would almost certainly become one.’ She sighed. ‘And, right now, I think we have all the difficulties we can handle.’

  There was a silence, then he said, ‘What happens now? Does tomorrow’s meeting with your parents still go ahead?’

  ‘Yes, of course. We need to keep the pretence going for at least a month or so.’ She forced a smile. ‘Who knows? By t
hen you may have met someone else.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I can safely say that isn’t going to happen.’ He paused. ‘And I apologise for earlier.’ His smile was rueful. ‘I’m not usually the grabbing type.’

  She said gently, ‘I’m quite sure of that.’

  After the tea was drunk, Gerard showed a disposition to linger, and Alanna had to chivvy him out with a brisk reminder that he was picking her up at eleven the next morning.

  When at last she was alone, she poured herself a glass of wine from the open bottle of Chablis sitting in the fridge, and curled herself into a corner of the sofa, for a review of the events of the dinner party in their unpleasant entirety.

  And, in particular, the extraordinary change that had come over Gerard, who’d embarked quite cheerfully on the evening, without reacting too drastically to the unwelcome appearance of Felicity, probably because he was battle-hardened to his grandmother’s machinations.

  No, she thought, frowning. It was later that his attitude altered. In fact, looking back, she could see it all stemmed from Lili’s announcement that she and Zandor were to be married.

  And, at the time, she’d been too wrapped up in her own shock and misery to notice she wasn’t the only person in the room to have received a body blow.

  But she could see it now. Except...

  Gerard? she thought incredulously. Gerard and Lili? Surely not. It couldn’t be.

  Yet she found herself remembering her first evening at the abbey and Joanne’s casual remark about Zandor’s last-minute arrival. ‘I guess we must be thankful he didn’t bring Lili.’

  It had meant little at the time, but now it gained a whole new significance, taking hold of her mind and gripping like a vice.

  Gerard could have met Lili first, and, quite understandably, fallen headlong for her, planning his future life around her.

  And then—what? A quarrel?

  No, she thought. Probably an intervention.

  Lili would have been taken to meet the rest of the family at the abbey, perhaps at Niamh’s previous birthday celebration when Zandor had presented her with that copy of Middlemarch.