Unexpected Blessings

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘India!’ he suddenly exclaimed, bringing his long legs onto the floor, standing up, moving towards her rapidly. ‘What are you doing here, sweetheart?’

  For a moment she didn’t answer, merely stared at him, until at last she said, ‘I came to warn you.’

  ‘Warn me? About what?’

  ‘Melinda Caldwell has sold her story to the Daily Mail.’ As she spoke she handed him the newspaper.

  He felt as if his insides were going to drop out, even though he had known that inevitably, one day, something like this would happen. He took the paper, threw it on the bed, stood gaping at her speechlessly. He saw how cold her eyes were, noted the severity of her mouth, became aware of her contained demeanour, yet there was anger hovering below the surface.

  Feeling suddenly vulnerable and stupid, standing there stark naked, when she was dressed for work, he snatched his robe from the bottom of the bed and pulled it on hastily.

  ‘It’s not in the paper today,’ she continued in that icy voice of hers. ‘But the feature is announced inside. It’s going to run for two days, starting tomorrow. I thought you should know my cousin Gideon thinks that some of the tabloids will want to rehash it, try to interview you, and so I suggest you make a hasty retreat, go somewhere for a week until it dies down. The press are going to be on your tail, you know.’

  ‘But there’s a lot of security here now, thanks to you and Jack Figg,’ he protested. ‘I’m protected behind the gates.’

  ‘I just wanted to alert you, it’s up to you what you do. I’d also like to ask you a question.’

  ‘Yes, ask me, sweetheart.’ He stepped towards her but she immediately backed away, and he knew at once that winning her over wasn’t going to be quite so easy. ‘India, you know you can ask me anything,’ he repeated.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a child with Melinda Caldwell?’

  He stared at her blankly, at a loss for words; he had no excuse really, and he should have told her, explained. He felt suddenly embarrassed, didn’t know what to say, and so he shrugged, looking helpless. ‘I guess I thought it might come between us.’

  ‘And it has, but only because you didn’t trust me enough to confide in me. You’ve totally misjudged me, Dusty, and that makes me feel very sad. Because I realized last night that you don’t really understand me or know who I am, where I’m coming from…emotionally and philosophically. You’ve just no idea about me, and I don’t think it’s possible for us to continue our relationship.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ he exclaimed. ‘I do know you and understand you. And I care for you, India. You’re very important to me, surely you realize that.’

  She shook her head. ‘I do know one thing…you’re totally wrong in your attitude towards my family. You’ve dismissed them as snobs whom you don’t care to meet, when in actuality they’re not. They’re very nice, normal, hard-working people. But you never bothered to find that out. And that leads me to believe that you are arrogant, self-centred and a coward.’

  ‘How can you say such things! I met your grandmother last night, didn’t I?’ he blustered.

  ‘Oh, don’t be so ridiculous! An old lady of ninety-five whom you had eating out of your hand in five seconds, because you flirted with her, charmed her. I’m talking mostly about my cousins, my closest friends. You don’t want to meet them because they’re more your size, and not so easily manipulated.’

  ‘India, listen to me, you’re going off at the deep end. I was going to tell you about Atlanta when I got out of the hospital, but to be honest I didn’t want to spoil our little romantic interlude and–’

  ‘It’s certainly spoiled now,’ she snapped and headed towards his bedroom door, opened it, stepped onto the landing.

  ‘Hey, wait a minute! Are you breaking up with me because I have a child, for God’s sake?’ he exploded, suddenly irate.

  ‘No, I’m not. I certainly have enough compassion to understand about your little girl, understand that she’s part of your life, that you have a commitment to her. I am leaving you because you don’t trust me, don’t know me, and certainly you make no effort to see things from my point of view.’

  ‘You’re being very unfair, India,’ he chastised, but his voice was lower.

  ‘And so are you, Dusty. You know how much I love you, and actually I think you love me. Yet you don’t want the relationship to move forward, certainly you don’t want to make a commitment.’ She shrugged. ‘So what’s the point? I think it’s time for me to move on, frankly.’

  She started down the staircase.

  He ran after her. ‘India, wait!’ he begged from the top of the landing.

  ‘It’s over, Dusty.’ She continued on down the stairs without looking back.

  ‘But listen, what about your portrait?’

  ‘Fuck my portrait,’ she shot back, crossed the hall and went out of the front door. She slammed it so hard he thought the glass panes on either side would shatter, but they merely rattled.

  Dusty was unable to move for a moment, stood staring down at the door. Finally he turned away, went back to the bedroom, filling with a sense of desolation now that he was alone. Could he win her back? He wasn’t sure. She was furious with him and he understood the reasons why. He cursed himself under his breath for not trusting her more. But then he had never been able to trust those who truly loved him. Would he never learn from the mistakes of the past?

  Once she was outside the house, India ran all the way to the Aston Martin, which she had parked near the big barns a short while before. She scrambled into the driver’s seat and immediately turned to look at Evan.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Evan asked, touching her arm lightly, her face ringed with concern. ‘You’re awfully white, India dear.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ India replied, and promptly burst into tears.

  Evan put her arm around her, and tried to soothe her, offering her tissues, murmuring kind words. And after a moment India, who was very strong, pulled herself together. She quickly recouped a little, blew her nose, and turned on the ignition. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said, driving forward. ‘I want to put some distance between myself and Mr Rhodes.’

  ‘I understand,’ Evan murmured, and decided not to ask any questions for the moment.

  A little later, once they were on the road to Leeds, India told her what had happened, adding, ‘I do love him, you know.’ She was staring ahead, her eyes focused on the busy road as she explained, ‘But I can’t be with a man who doesn’t know who I am. So that’s it. I’ll get over him. Eventually.’

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ Evan agreed, but she couldn’t help wondering if India would.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Paula looked up as the door to the upstairs parlour opened, and her face broke into smiles at the sight of her eldest daughter. ‘Good morning, Tessa darling,’ she said. ‘I see you’re bringing me a very welcome pot of coffee. Don’t stand there hesitating, come in. And you’ve brought a cup for yourself, that’s good; we can have a little chat, catch up.’

  ‘I know you’ve been up since the crack of dawn, working, and I didn’t want to disturb you before. But it’s almost eleven and I thought you could use some refreshment by now.’ Tessa walked over to the coffee table standing between the two big plump sofas, and setting the tray down, lowered herself onto a sofa.

  Pushing back her chair, Paula left the time-worn Georgian desk once her grandmother’s, and joined Tessa, sat facing her, pouring the coffee. After putting milk and a sweetener in her cup she took a sip, then sat back, eyeing her daughter, affection written on her face. ‘You look lovely, Tessa, very well indeed. I thought so at dinner last night. Paris must have done you good, agreed with you.’

  ‘It did, yes, and Lorne is always so kind, thoughtful. We had a nice time together.’

  ‘So he told me,’ Paula murmured, immediately thinking of Jonathan Ainsley and Mark Longden and their troubling presence in Paris together last weekend. First Linnet and then Lorne had filled her in sepa
rately, and Jack Figg had given her a full report yesterday. The information he had supplied had only made her more determined than ever to deal with Tessa’s husband in the most appropriate and effective manner.

  Leaning back against the cushions, Tessa said, ‘Last night you told me you are having the meeting with Mark and all the lawyers on Monday afternoon. And that I have to be there. But do I really?’

  ‘Yes, actually you do, Tessa,’ Paula replied, leaning forward. ‘I know you can’t abide him, and neither can I, but it is necessary. Christopher Jolliet is rather insistent about that, and he’s one of the best lawyers I’ve ever had. I do listen to his advice, you know, whatever you might think about me “running the show,” as you call it.’

  Tessa laughed. ‘Then I’ll be there, Mummy…’ She did not finish her sentence, frowned, and hesitated before asking, ‘Will I have to do anything? Say anything?’

  ‘Not unless you’re asked any questions by Christopher, or Mark’s lawyers, then you will have to answer,’ Paula explained.

  ‘I see. A couple of weeks ago, when I spoke to you in New York, you told me that you had a plan. What is it?’

  ‘I’d prefer not to discuss it with you today, Tess, if you don’t mind,’ Paula answered swiftly. ‘I still have a few things to iron out, talk over with Christopher this weekend, before it will be all settled in my mind. But please be assured I am certain my plan will work.’

  ‘If you say so, Mummy, and really it’s all right, we don’t have to talk about it now. I trust your judgement: in my opinion there’s nobody smarter than you.’

  ‘Probably your father, I’m sure,’ Paula laughed. ‘But thank you for your confidence. By the way, I had a little visit with Adele early this morning, in the kitchen. And she’s so adorable, perfectly fine, and as happy as a lark.’ Paula paused, then added, ‘Thank God she wasn’t hurt in any way on that awful day. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to share your burdens–’

  ‘But Linnet was,’ Tessa interrupted, ‘and she handled things extremely well. Actually, I don’t know what I would have done without her. It was so smart of her to bring in Jack, but I’ve told you that.’

  ‘Yes, you did, and you’re quite right. She used great judgement.’

  ‘I’ve agreed to be Linnet’s matron of honour, Mummy.’

  ‘You changed your mind?’ Paula was taken aback, and she looked at Tessa alertly.

  ‘Well, yes I did, because I think she was a bit hurt when I refused originally.’

  ‘So now it’s going to be India, Evan and Emsie as bridesmaids, and you as matron of honour? Is that it?’

  ‘Not exactly. I’ve changed my mind about Adele being part of the wedding. I told Linnet the other day that Adele can be a bridesmaid after all, just as she wanted her to be.’

  Harmony at last between them, Paula thought. It’s hardly believable. ‘I think that’s lovely of you, darling, and I’m so glad you decided to participate. I know Linny was truly disappointed when you said no.’

  ‘Did she tell you that Evan’s going to be designing her wedding gown?’

  ‘No, she didn’t, but it’s only Saturday, I’ve hardly caught my breath since arriving in Yorkshire. Do tell me all about it, Tess.’

  ‘Linnet didn’t like any of the sketches she’d had from various designers, and she asked Evan’s opinion the other evening. Evan came up with some superb ideas…like heavy cream satin, pearl embroidery, a style reminiscent of the Tudor period, and Linnet loved her suggestions. So Evan’s been busy sketching, in between tearing down the Leeds store and rebuilding it with India.’

  ‘You are joking? About the Leeds store?’ Paula asked, looking askance at her daughter.

  ‘Of course. But they are doing a lot of innovative things. You’ll be surprised, Mummy. They’ve certainly been much more radical in the changes they’re making there than I have at Harrogate.’ Tessa drank some of her black coffee, and added, ‘Much to the annoyance of that old harridan of a secretary of yours apparently.’

  ‘Which secretary do you mean?’

  ‘Eleanor. At the Leeds store.’

  ‘She’s not really an old harridan,’ Paula answered. She knew Eleanor was not spying for Jonathan any more. There was nothing to find out.

  ‘It’s just a manner of speaking, Mums, but she is a grumpy, bad-tempered woman.’

  ‘Now, you mentioned India,’ Paula said. ‘How is she? Linnet told me there’s been a bit of trouble between her and the artist, Russell Rhodes.’

  Tessa filled her mother in, and finished, ‘I do feel sorry for her. India’s so good, such a straight person, I suppose it’s only natural she feels let down.’

  Paula nodded, picked up the coffee pot, poured another cup for herself. As she put the pot down she gave Tessa a long, concentrated look, understanding as she had last night that there had been something of a change in Tessa’s attitude, in her demeanour. A change so remarkable there was obviously more to it than met the eye. It was particularly pronounced at this moment.

  Her daughter was not as prickly or sharp, intent or aggressive as she so often was. In fact there was a lovely new softness about her, something Paula had never seen in her before. Tessa appeared much more feminine, more relaxed. She had a wonderful glow about her, the kind of glow that usually emanated from a woman who had been well and truly loved, who was sexually satisfied–that was the only way Paula could describe it.

  Oh, my God! Paula sat bolt upright on the sofa, instantly looking across at Tessa, scrutinizing her carefully. There’s a man in her life. She’s fallen in love. It’s obviously reciprocated, so it’s genuine. Yes, that was it. Undoubtedly. Love had caused this most extraordinary change in her daughter.

  So startled was she by this sudden and unexpected knowledge, Paula instantly got up, walked over to the window, stood looking out at the moors, not wishing Tessa to see the expression on her face. That she was flabbergasted was an understatement. Who can it be? she asked herself, when did it happen? Paula had been absent for almost two months so she had no real answers for herself.

  Only Tessa had the answers. If anyone else in the family had known they would have mentioned it to her on the phone, she was quite positive of that.

  Tessa was in love but no one knew. Did that mean there was some kind of problem attached to the relationship? A married man perhaps? She hoped not.

  ‘Mummy, I forgot to tell you about the dinner India and I had with Great-Aunt Edwina. Please come back to the sofa, I want you to hear all about it.’

  Arranging a neutral expression on her face, Paula straightened her navy linen shirt and walked back to the sofa. ‘I’m all ears,’ she murmured, sitting down opposite her daughter.

  Tessa told her mother the entire story of the evening with Edwina and the gift of the unique pieces of jewellery to herself and India.

  Tessa went on, ‘Great-Aunt Edwina told me that I shouldn’t dwell on my marital problems, that I should get the divorce and move on to greener pastures. She said she hoped the débâcle with Mark wouldn’t put me off men, that I had to get over that hurdle. And immediately.’

  ‘Did she now.’ Paula gazed at Tessa, her head on one side, and after a slight pause, she said, ‘I’m making the assumption you took her advice to heart.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ Jumping up, Tessa came and sat next to Paula on the sofa. ‘The most wonderful thing has happened to me–’

  ‘You’ve fallen in love,’ Paula interrupted.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘It’s written all over your face, darling. I noticed a great difference in you last night, and it’s more marked than ever today. I’m assuming he’s fallen in love with you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tessa said, blushing. ‘At first sight.’

  ‘And who is this man who has wrought this change in you?’

  ‘It’s Jean-Claude Deléon, the French writer. You met him in Paris with Lorne…he’s Lorne’s friend. Do you remember him?’

  Although she was rarely at a loss for words, Paula was spe
echless and she sat staring at Tessa, and then recovering, taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Of course I remember him. He’s an extraordinary person. Very attractive, very celebrated. And when did this happen?’

  Before Tessa could respond Margaret appeared in the doorway of the upstairs parlour, clearing her throat, and murmuring, ‘Excuse me, Mrs O’Neill, but I was wondering how many we’ll be for lunch today?’

  ‘Goodness, Margaret, I’m afraid I’ve no idea,’ Paula answered, turning to Tessa. ‘There’s you and me, and Grandfather Bryan, right Tess? What about Linnet and Evan?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Mums, they’ll be here, because right now they’re working downstairs on the designs for the wedding gown and bridesmaids’ dresses. At least, Evan is, and Linnet’s going over other details for the wedding.’

  ‘Very well, Margaret, it looks as if we’ll be five. Oh, and there’s Emsie and Desmond. So we’ll be seven.’

  ‘No, no, wait a minute,’ Tessa interjected. ‘Linnet mentioned something about Julian coming for lunch with Uncle Ronnie.’

  ‘Oh, that’ll be lovely, I can’t wait to see them. Why don’t you think in terms of ten for lunch, Margaret. There’s always the possibility that Gideon might end up here as well.’

  The housekeeper nodded, and, glancing at the piece of paper in her hand and then at Paula, she said, ‘I’ve made your favourite Mrs Beeton’s Mulligatawny soup for the first course, and I’d planned to make a cottage pie. Mr O’Neill likes it so much, you know, and a steak-and-kidney pie as well. Plus steamed fresh vegetables, and I’ve also got a luverly Yorkshire ham baking in the oven, Mrs O’Neill. For dessert Pm going to make bread-and-butter pudding. And fresh fruit for those on a diet,’ she thought to add, glancing at Tessa.

  ‘It sounds like a delicious feast. I must admit, I’ve missed your wonderful cooking, Margaret.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs O’Neill, and Pm ever so glad you’re back.’

  Once they were alone again, Tessa hurriedly went on, ‘Getting back to Jean-Claude. We met last week, Mummy, when I went to Paris with Lorne. It was one of those instantaneous things: we responded to each other immediately, and well, what can I say, we both feel as if we’ve been hit by a bus.’