‘Since Harriet is a qualified chartered accountant,’ snapped Julia who, if not affectionate, was always just, ‘her figures are obviously correct.’
‘They were checked by one of the senior partners. Rex Barlow went over them with me, at my request, and agreed with me on every count,’ said Harriet wearily. ‘Funds are needed urgently, or Father has no option. He must sell up.’
‘I can’t manage anything significant in the way of financial help,’ said Julia with regret. ‘The mortgage on the new flat is a killer.’
‘And I can’t ask Gervase for money!’ said Sophie in alarm. ‘He was absolutely horrid to me about my last credit card bill.’
‘Even if either of you could contribute something it would just be a temporary stopgap. However—’ Harriet paused, almost amused as the other three regarded her in sudden hope ‘—if you can’t bear the thought of selling, Father, there might just possibly be another way round the problem.’
He brightened. ‘You’ve thought of something?’
‘Can’t you pay Father more rent for the Lodge?’ said Sophie.
‘If you can’t say anything sensible, for God’s sake keep quiet,’ snapped Julia. ‘Just for the record, how much do you pay, Harriet?’
Colour rose again in Aubrey’s face when Harriet told her.
‘I know it’s too much—’
‘Far too much,’ said Julia trenchantly. ‘No one else would pay anything like that to live in such a poky little place—not that you haven’t made it charming, Harriet,’ she added fairly, ‘and entirely at your own expense at that. But you know damn well you could rent a luxury flat in the town for that money.’
‘So why do you stay here then?’ muttered Sophie sulkily.
‘Because if River House is to remain in the family it needs constant care,’ Harriet told her flatly. ‘When I qualified I offered my free professional help to Father, which means I do the accounts, make sure the household bills are paid on time and consult regularly with Ed Haines about basic house maintenance. But if something isn’t done soon, there won’t be enough money even for that. You’ll have to let Margaret Rogers go, Father, and do the housework and gardening yourself. And sell the new car,’ she added ruthlessly.
This last was so obviously the last straw it would have been amusing in any other circumstances. ‘So what do you have in mind?’ he asked, with unusual humility.
‘Charlotte Brewster is the client who made me late today.’
‘The one who was Head Girl in my day?’ said Julia with interest.
Harriet nodded. ‘She chose me as her accountant because of the school connection.’
‘Never mind all that,’ said Aubrey impatiently. ‘What has this woman to do with our problem?’
‘She’s a professional location agent, working with people who hire out their houses as venues for films, PR events, commercial photo shoots, and so on,’ Harriet told him, human enough to feel satisfaction when his jaw dropped.
‘You’re actually suggesting I let a film crew stampede all over my home?’ he said, aghast.
‘If they find it suitable for their purposes, yes.’
Sophie’s eyes shone. ‘How exciting!’
Julia eyed Harriet with respect. ‘Actually it’s a brilliant idea. You can charge big bucks for just a day’s filming. And I can be of help in this way. I could get my people to do a shoot here, put out feelers in other directions, too.’
‘Great idea.’ Harriet turned back to her father. ‘Of course, as an alternative, you could stay with Miriam and let the entire house out for the summer.’
‘God forbid,’ he said in horror. ‘Miriam and I would kill each other in days.’
‘Then you have no option,’ said Harriet briskly. ‘I can take a room in town while the house is in use, and you can move into the Lodge, Father.’
Julia nodded thoughtfully. ‘The gardens alone would be a huge draw. Dress designers would salivate over this place—models gazing through the wisteria on the veranda, or draped over the balcony outside my bedroom.’
‘And mine,’ echoed Sophie.
Harriet looked at her father. ‘So what’s your answer?’
His mouth twisted. ‘You’ve already decided for me.’
‘Shall I put the idea to the vote?’
‘Unnecessary,’ said Julia crisply. ‘It’s a three to one majority.’
Her father sighed, defeated. ‘Oh, very well, I’ll make it unanimous, but on condition that when these people rampage over the house you stay in the Lodge to keep an eye on them, Harriet. I’ll find somewhere in town. And now, Sophie,’ he added in a different tone, ‘I suggest you help Julia clear the dining room and load the dishwasher.’ He waited until they left the room, then turned to Harriet. ‘You really think this will work?’
She nodded. ‘It must work. The roof is the top priority. I checked with Ed.’
‘Why not with me?’
‘Because you turn a blind eye to what you don’t want to see!’
He sighed. ‘You’ve changed such a lot, Harriet.’
She shook her head. ‘You just haven’t noticed before.’
‘I notice more than you realise,’ he said bleakly, ‘including why you refuse to live here at home with me.’
Harriet was relieved when her sisters’ reappearance put a welcome end to the tense silence which followed her father’s statement. Soon afterwards, Sophie drove home, and Harriet retreated thankfully to the Lodge without mentioning that someone was already interested in taking River House over for a project. It had seemed best to get her father used to the idea before hitting him with the first punter right away.
But instead of concentrating on a workable solution to the problem of River House’s finances, Harriet’s mind kept returning to the past once she was in bed. Over the years she had trained herself to forget that James Crawford existed, but running into him earlier had brought back that long ago idyllic summer so vividly that sleep was impossible.
The Lodge, once occupied by Margaret before her marriage to John Rogers, had been empty when Harriet announced at fifteen that she wanted to take it over to study there in peace. In return for her father’s permission she’d promised to take care of it herself. She was at her desk there one hot summer morning a few years later when her computer crashed. A frantic phone call to the local suppliers brought quick response in the shape of a tall young technician with shaggy black hair and bright hazel eyes which lit up with gratifying pleasure at the sight of her.
‘Hi. I’m from Combe Computers,’ he said in deep gravel tones which sent shivers down her spine.
Harriet smiled shyly and showed him into the small sitting room she’d made into a study. She gestured to the computer on the desk. ‘Can you do anything with it?’
‘I’ll do my best, Miss Wilde.’
‘Harriet.’
‘James.’ He smiled. ‘James Crawford.’
She curled up on the window seat to watch as he set to work, impressed by his skill as he took the machine apart.
‘It’s the mother board,’ he announced after a while, and opened his bulging black bag. ‘I’ll fit a new one. It won’t take long.’
He was right. Far too soon for Harriet, the computer was up and running and James Crawford was ready to leave.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said warmly as she saw him to the door. ‘I was tearing my hair out before you came.’
‘A crime with hair like yours!’ He smiled down at her in the tiny porch. ‘Do you work in the evenings, too?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘How about taking time off to come out for a drink tonight?’
‘Yes,’ she said promptly.
His smile sent her brain reeling. ‘I like a woman who knows her own mind. I’ll pick you up at seven.’
‘No, thanks,’ she said hastily. ‘I’ll meet you. Where?’
From that first night in a small pub far enough from the town to give them anonymity, they’d found an immediate rapport. Unknown to Aubrey Wilde and Mir
iam Cairns, or to Sophie, who was away in France for the summer with her best friend’s family, they spent every moment possible together from that night on. If questioned on her whereabouts, Harriet enlisted the willing help of a friend, and lied shamelessly that she was making the most of her time with Anne during her vacation. As the time drew near for Harriet to leave for her second year at university the prospect of parting grew so painful James came up with the idea of sharing a flat near the college for the duration of her course.
‘I can freelance, and still be on call for the firm,’ he assured her. ‘Most important of all, we can be together.’
Harriet had agreed rapturously, willing to defy her father on her own account when it came to living with the man she loved, but in the end afraid to risk ruin to James Crawford’s career when Aubrey Wilde’s threats sounded the death knell to the plan.
CHAPTER TWO
HARRIET woke next morning with dark-ringed eyes which needed serious work with camouflage before she was ready to face her day. To her surprise, Julia arrived as she was about to leave. ‘I thought you were having a lie-in!’
Julia nodded glumly. ‘So did I. But my body clock is still ticking on London time. Besides, I wanted to catch you before you took off. Does Charlotte Brewster already have something in mind for River House? Knowing you, cautious one, I was pretty sure you wouldn’t have stated your case so strongly otherwise.’
‘You’re right. She’s sending me our first punter this morning. Some man who wants the house for a party.’ Harriet looked at her watch. ‘I’d better get going. I’ll give you a ring tonight to report.’
‘In that case I’ll be noble and keep Sophie in the loop for you.’ Julia shot her sister a wry look. ‘I suppose you know why she’s such a cow to you?’
Harriet nodded. ‘She’s jealous of my so-called relationship with Father.’
Julia eyed her thoughtfully. ‘She hasn’t a clue, has she? So why do you stay?’
Harriet concentrated on packing her briefcase. ‘Because just before … before the end, I promised Mother I would help Father take good care of River House.’
Julia shook her head in disapproval. ‘Leave him to do it himself. I love the place too, but you need more in your life than a house, Harriet! Mother would be the first to agree with me.’
‘I enjoy a normal social life,’ said Harriet defensively.
‘Ah, but do you ever enjoy a sleepover with the men you go out with? I doubt that you ask anyone back here!’
‘For heaven’s sake, Julia, it’s too early in the morning for this—I have to go.’
Julia paused in the doorway. ‘Take my advice—if money does come in this way, or any other way at all, get part of it tied up tight in a separate business account for the house. Otherwise Pa might start dabbling in shares and Lord knows what else again and we’ll be back to square one.’
‘I intend to,’ Harriet assured her. ‘When I break the glad news to him can I say I have your full support?’
‘Absolutely. Good luck.’
Harriet reached the premises in Broad Street on time, as usual. She exchanged greetings with Lydia, the long-time receptionist, and made for the small office with a single tall window overlooking the gardens—a view that more than compensated for lack of space. As she gazed out for her brief morning ritual of peace, the new trainee came in to ask about coffee.
‘Not right now, thanks, Simon.’ Harriet smiled at him. ‘Bring some when my nine-thirty appointment arrives. Tell Lydia to buzz you the moment he does so you can usher him in with due pomp.’
‘Will do. You look good today,’ he remarked. ‘New suit?’
‘New to you, yes.’ She smiled. ‘Now, hop off and let me get on.’
Harriet worked steadily for an hour before taking a break to tidy up. She was back at her desk, absorbed again, when Simon knocked on her door and ushered in her client.
‘Your nine-thirty appointment, Miss Wilde,’ he announced.
Harriet got to her feet feeling as though all the air had been sucked out of her office as James Crawford, elegant in a dark city suit, strolled in and dominated it by the sheer force of his personality. Now she had the time to take a good look, she could see that he was harder, older and colder, with little resemblance to the man she’d fallen in love with.
‘Good morning, Harriet.’ He held out his hand. ‘I had no time yesterday to mention we’d be meeting in an official capacity today.’
Or he wanted to give her a nasty surprise. ‘Good morning.’ Manfully hiding her shock, Harriet took the strong, slim hand. Ignoring the searing streak of heat along her veins at the contact, she smiled politely. ‘This is a surprise. Charlotte Brewster told me I had a possible client to hire River House, but she forgot to give me a name.’
James drew up a chair in front of her desk and sat down, looking so relaxed Harriet wanted to hit him. ‘She didn’t forget. I asked to remain anonymous.’
‘Why?’
His eyes gleamed with mockery. ‘In case you refused to see me.’
‘Why would I do that?’ she said, determinedly pleasant.
Simon came in bearing a tray with the silver coffee pot and fine china normally reserved for clients of the senior partner. ‘Ring if you need anything else, Miss Wilde.’
‘Thank you, Simon.’
Once she’d served James’s coffee, Harriet forced herself to sip hers slowly rather than glug the caffeine down like medicine.
‘To business,’ said James briskly, putting his cup down. ‘I met Ms Brewster over the weekend. During our conversation I told her I believe in keeping my employees happy and was on the lookout for an unusual location to throw a party for them.’ His eyes speared hers. ‘Imagine my surprise when she suggested River House.’
She could, vividly. ‘What kind of company do you run?’
‘We provide broadband and phone lines to businesses and various commercial outfits,’ he informed her, and smiled. ‘I’ve moved on a bit from the day I was called out to repair your computer. The usual rags-to-riches story, according to the press.’
‘Congratulations. I’m afraid I missed reading about it.’ She glued her smile in place. ‘So what, exactly, did you have in mind with regard to River House?’ Other than humiliating Harriet Wilde by hiring her home.
He leaned back, still irritatingly relaxed. ‘Briefly, my aim is a party to celebrate the recent expansion in my Live Wires Group. I’ve recently taken over a couple of small companies who ran into trouble. This event will welcome their employees on to my staff, and at the same time reward my original workforce for their efforts. I could use a hotel, obviously, but I liked the idea of an actual home setting as a venue.’
The Wilde home in particular. ‘River House doesn’t have room to put many people up overnight,’ Harriet warned, her mind in turmoil behind her professional demeanour.
He shook his head. ‘Not my intention. Transport will be provided for arrival and departure on the same day. I seem to remember a terrace leading to a large lawn, so a marquee seems the most practical idea, with drinks on the terrace beforehand if the weather’s good. What parking facilities can you provide?’
‘There’s an adjoining paddock we used for my sister’s wedding. Would your caterers need the kitchen?’ By this stage Harriet was experiencing serious qualms about hiring her home to any client, let alone to James Crawford.
‘The firm I have in mind provides their own,’ he informed her. ‘And the other necessary facilities will be set up out of sight somewhere in the gardens. You need suffer very little intrusion on your privacy.’
Harriet smiled coolly. ‘It makes no difference to me personally. I don’t live there.’
He tensed, eyes narrowed. ‘You’re based here in the town?’
‘No. Perhaps you may remember the Lodge at River House? I’ve lived there for quite a while.’
Of course he remembered the Lodge! James tried to look as though he were attempting to recall it. ‘I see.’ But he didn’t. This self-contained
woman with her tailored suit and severe, pulled back hair was very different from the warm, loving girl he remembered. But then, when push came to shove that girl had not cared enough for him to give up her lifestyle at River House. For which he should be eternally grateful. The hurt and humiliation she’d dished out had fired him with the ambition to make such a success of his life James Crawford would be good enough for anyone, Aubrey Wilde’s daughter included. It was a blow to hear she’d moved out of River House itself, but if her father still lived there that would have to do.
‘I’ll need to see over the house,’ he informed her, ‘at some time convenient to you and your father, of course.’
Of course. Harriet had been steeling herself for that from the moment he entered her office and turned her life on its head again.
‘I’m staying in the locality with my sister for a few days,’ said James, ‘so any time up to, and including, Sunday would suit me.’
‘Perhaps I could ring you later when I’ve had a word with my father.’
‘By all means.’ James stood up and handed her a card. ‘You can reach me on any of the numbers. Goodbye … Miss Wilde.’ He strode from her office and down the hall, smiling briefly at the receptionist as he said goodbye. Outside in bright morning sunshine he breathed in deeply, savouring the overwhelming satisfaction of the moment. It had taken a long time and a hell of a lot of hard graft to achieve financial success, while George Lassiter, his old boss, had hinted over lunch recently that Aubrey Wilde’s finances were not too buoyant these days. James’s eyes glittered coldly. They must be reaching crisis point if he was willing to hire his house out to the man who’d once been considered unfit to enter its hallowed portals.
As soon as she heard the street door close Harriet rang Charlotte Brewster to report.
‘James said he knew you slightly years ago and asked to remain anonymous so he could surprise you,’ Charlotte informed her. ‘How well did you know him?’
‘When I was a student he came to the Lodge to mend my computer. But before I let James Crawford look over River House, Ms Brewster, I need to know how much he’s willing to pay for the privilege.’
A Wicked Persuasion Page 2
