Emma's Secret

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘And when you kissed me in Chester Street I knew I couldn’t bear to be apart from you any longer. So you see, you were right to come to the store and act so masterfully. And tomorrow I shall thank Joe Pinkerton for sending you up unannounced.’

  He hugged her to him, and after a moment he said, ‘I could eat an elephant I’m so hungry. Aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. But you never have any food in your refrigerator.’

  ‘I do tonight. This afternoon I did a bit of shopping, and brought dinner home. Mrs. Ludlow prepared it all just before she left at six. She put everything on the tea trolley in the kitchen, left the champagne on ice, lit the fire in here. We’ve nothing to do really, just wheel in the trolley, that’s all. How about a picnic on the rug? Courtesy of Harte’s, of course.’

  ‘It’ll be lovely, but we won’t have a fire if you don’t put another log on it.’

  ‘Right away.’ He jumped up, removed the fireguard, dropped a log on the smouldering embers.

  ‘I’ll come and help you in the kitchen,’ Linnet said, also rising. ‘Now that I’m almost, if not quite, your missus.’

  ‘You’ve always been my missus,’ he shot back, taking hold of her hand and staring at the ring. It was a pool of green fire in the lamplight. ‘The mister who gave you this must be crazy about you. It’s some ring. And then some!’

  ‘The mister who gave me this ring is terrific in every way, but especially in bed. I’ve always got the hots for him.’

  He put his arm around her, laughing, and they walked across the living room and into the kitchen.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Lifting her crystal flute, Linnet touched it to Julian’s. ‘Cheers,’ she said and took a sip. Looking at him over the rim, she added, ‘When are we going to announce our engagement? Or shall we keep it a secret for a while?’

  ‘Cheers, darling.’ After a long swallow of champagne, Julian shrugged lightly. ‘It’s really up to you…do you want to have a drinks party? Just for the clans. Maybe on Valentine’s Day? Or is that too corny?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s too corny, but Valentine’s Day is next week. There’s going to be nobody around. Paula and Shane went to Paris this morning. Uncle Winston left for Toronto yesterday, for a board meeting, and Gideon’s in the Isle of Man.’

  ‘Oh that’s right. He went to see Christian, I understand. Hoping to lure him back to Fleet Street with all kinds of promises. And goodies.’

  ‘If anybody can do it, Gideon can,’ she laughed, and leaned back against the base of the sofa, stretching her legs.

  The two of them were sitting on the rug in front of the fire, the picnic spread out between them. There were plates of cold meats and chicken, slices of cold game pie, potato salad in a crystal dish, a bowl of cornichons, plus a baguette cut up in pieces, and a slab of butter on a plate. The bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice nearby.

  Julian eyed the food, took a slice of the pie, laid it on his plate and speared a fork into the cornichons. ‘You used to love these when you were little.’

  ‘Still do,’ she said, and also took a slice of pie and some of the small pickled cucumbers. After munching on one, and eating part of the pie, she glanced at Julian. ‘Why did you agree to take a breather, as I called it?’

  ‘Because you wanted it so much and I decided I must humour you. But very frankly, Linnet, I’d no idea you’d stretch it out for several months. I thought we were talking a few weeks at the most. It became too unbearable for words.’

  ‘I know…I’m so sorry.’ She served herself some potato salad, took a forkful, then murmured, ‘Gideon’s smitten with Evan Hughes.’

  ‘Very.’ Julian gave her a quick look, drank some more champagne, then stared into the fire, his expression reflective. Finally he turned back to her. ‘Actually, Linnet, I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s really fallen hard.’

  ‘I know. I think it happened the moment he set eyes on her in the corridor at Harte’s. He told me the other day that it was a coup de foudre.’

  ‘He told me the same thing…and I believe he’s right in that. Has Evan said anything to you, Linnet?’

  ‘Not a lot…she’s cautious, but that’s only natural, I suppose. After all, he’s a Harte, and she’s my assistant. Maybe she’s a bit awkward because she works for me. But if you want my opinion, I think she feels the same way I feel about you.’

  Julian sat back.

  ‘She’s flipped for him, in other words, and she’s got stars in her eyes.’

  ‘So that’s how you feel, is it?’ He leaned forward, looking pleased, squeezed her arm.

  ‘Yep.’

  There was a small silence.

  It was Julian who broke it a short while later when he said quietly, in a thoughtful tone, ‘What do you know about Evan Hughes, Linnet?’

  She met his steady gaze with a puzzled look. ‘What do you mean? What are you getting at?’

  ‘I was just wondering about her background, where she comes from, that kind of thing. I realize you have her résumé, know all about her previous work in fashion. I was actually thinking about her personal background.’

  ‘She’s only been working for me for about three weeks, but I like her a lot. So does everyone else. And she’s good, Julian, really professional. Imaginative, even quite brilliant in certain ways. India’s impressed, and so is Cassie. I haven’t asked her a lot of questions about her private life, but I think it goes without saying that she was available–not entangled with anyone–when Gideon first asked her out. I know she was brought up in Connecticut, but lived in New York for about ten years before moving here. Her father’s an antique dealer. I gather her mother is a manic depressive. She has two sisters. She’s never been married. Well educated, nice manners. Great personality. That’s about all I can tell you, really.’

  Julian nodded, took a few sips of champagne, put the glass down. He cut a piece of the game pie still on his plate, ate it, the reflective look still in his eyes.

  Linnet also ate a little of the pie, took a small piece of chicken, reached over for the bottle and poured herself another glass of the champagne. ‘What a good idea this was, darling. So tell me why you’re interested in Evan’s background?’

  ‘There’s something about her that seems…well, quite mysterious…’ He let his sentence trail off because he couldn’t quite put into words what he really meant. Also, he didn’t want to say anything which would be inflammatory to Linnet or, equally as important, put her off Evan Hughes. God knows she needed another assistant because of the retrospective, and she had for a long time. Evan Hughes puzzled him; she had done so since he had first met her with Gideon. Not the least of it was her uncanny resemblance to Paula, which he found so startling he was actually troubled by it.

  Taking a deep breath, Julian plunged in: ‘Don’t you think there’s something odd about her? She shows up at Harte’s, out of the blue, and gets herself a job with you…and everyone’s agog because she looks exactly like your mother. Younger version, of course.’

  ‘I don’t think she looks exactly like Paula,’ Linnet answered swiftly, staring across at him. ‘They’re the same type, that’s all: tall, dark, exotic in appearance. Evan has sort of bluish-grey eyes, my mother’s are violet, and Mummy’s got dimples and a much broader forehead. And no, I don’t think there’s anything odd about Evan, I really don’t, Julian. As for her slight resemblance to Mummy, it is just that…slight. Very slight. And anyway, lots of people look like each other, but it doesn’t mean they’re related.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he agreed, not wishing to upset her, or probe further. As far as he was concerned, from her appearance Evan Hughes could easily be Paula’s daughter; in fact, she looked more like her than Linnet did. When he had met Evan he had been truly taken aback by her looks, but he had liked her; had found her charming, warm, quite lovely in many respects. And he had understood her appeal for Gideon. For any man, actually. And yet…well, he might as well admit it, he was quite suspicious of Miss Evan Hugh
es and her sudden appearance at Harte’s. As his grandfather would say, there was something not quite kosher here…

  ‘When are your parents coming back?’ he asked.

  ‘In a few days. Sometime next week. Dad had some hotel business in Paris, and Mummy just decided to tag along at the last moment. She said they’re spending Valentine’s Day there. Why?’

  ‘I was thinking about asking your father for your hand in marriage.’

  ‘Go on, don’t be so daft, lad!’ she cried in a broad Yorkshire accent, and began to laugh uproariously. ‘You don’t have to ask him, I think he’s always known it would happen, that we’d get married one day,’ she added in her normal voice.

  ‘But I want to ask him, Linnet. I think it’s the proper thing to do.’

  Linnet leaned over, kissed his cheek. ‘That would be lovely, darling,’ she said softly, knowing what a close call she had had with him. She had almost lost him because of her own foolishness.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Throwing her long black coat around her shoulders, Evan headed towards the door, but the shrilling of the telephone made her turn back into the little sitting room. She ran to pick it up, exclaiming, ‘Hello?’ glancing at her watch as she did. She was running late: it was almost seven o’clock.

  ‘It’s me, Evan,’ her father said from faraway Connecticut, sounding as if he was just around the corner.

  ‘Hi, Dad!’ she cried brightly, obviously glad to hear his voice. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m okay,’ he answered in a low mutter. ‘But you haven’t called in over a week and I started to worry. Are you all right?’

  She knew that down-in-the-dumps tone only too well, had always dreaded it, and swiftly she said, ‘Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry, and yes, everything’s fine. I’m great. It’s just that we’ve been so busy with the retrospective I haven’t had a minute to spare. But you shouldn’t worry, I’m doing great here.’

  ‘Well, I’m happy to hear it.’ He said this in such a grudging voice it was obvious to her that he was not happy at all.

  Evan murmured quietly, in a conciliatory way, ‘I ought to have called you. I mustn’t let the pressure of work get in the way again.’

  ‘I’ve got to admit, I do worry about you. You seem so far away, Evan.’

  When there was a small silence at her end of the phone, he said, ‘Evan…Evan…are you there?’

  ‘Yes, I am. And don’t worry so much. I’m almost twenty-seven, for heaven’s sake, Dad.’

  ‘I miss you. We all do,’ he answered, ‘and I can’t help worrying.’

  ‘I miss everyone too, Dad. How’s Mom doing? How’re the girls?’

  ‘About the same, and your mother is a lot more cheerful at the moment. I even got her out to the movies the other night.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news!’ Evan was startled at this turn of events but pleased. Perhaps her mother was finally coming out of her lethargy and depression.

  ‘So, you like working at Harte’s, do you?’ her father asked.

  ‘Very much. I’m loving it. The retrospective is going to be something really special, and it’s a challenging job. Mounting it properly, giving it cachet and excitement is most important.’

  ‘I told Pauline Trigère some of her clothes are going to be in it, and she was thrilled.’ There was a little pause, and then Owen said, in a careful tone, ‘And how’s your admirer?’

  ‘Admirer?’ she repeated, frowning, taken aback by the question.

  ‘I hear you have a boyfriend.’

  ‘Oh. Well, he’s just a friend really, Dad,’ she responded, knowing at once that he’d been speaking to George Thomas.

  ‘Is it that man you met at the store when you went for the interview?’ her father now asked. ‘Gideon Harte?’

  ‘It is Gideon, yes.’

  ‘He’s the cousin of your immediate boss, isn’t he?’

  ‘That’s right. But we’re just good friends, as I said.’

  ‘I hope so, Evan. It wouldn’t do for you to get mixed up with your employer, you know.’

  ‘He’s not my employer!’ she exclaimed. ‘He’s in the newspaper business; he has nothing to do with the store.’ She gripped the phone tighter, trying to remain patient with her father. But he was obviously not pleased with her, on various levels. This baffled her, made her feel uneasy.

  Owen Hughes said, ‘I don’t like the idea of you being mixed up with him, Evan. He’s out of your league. It wouldn’t work.’

  ‘Dad, I told you, he’s just a good friend. He’s tried to be nice to me, to be helpful. Anyway, who told you about Gideon? George Thomas, I’ve no doubt.’

  ‘No, Arlette. I phoned the other day to speak to George and she answered the phone in his office. In passing, before she put George on, she told me you had an admirer.’

  ‘What do you mean he’s out of my league?’

  ‘All of Emma Harte’s offspring are fabulously wealthy, powerful, live a life of privilege. You’re not used to their world, Evan—’

  ‘He’s not like that,’ she interrupted. ‘He’s a very nice, hardworking guy, and you wouldn’t know he was from great wealth or privilege. He’s very down-to-earth, committed to work, as are his cousins Linnet and India. In fact, the whole family has a very strong work ethic, Dad, so I don’t know what you’re talking about. And in any case, I’m not out of his league. That’s a very strange thing for you to say, you’ve always said I could have any man I wanted!’

  It was Owen’s turn to be conciliatory, and he said quickly, ‘You don’t have to get all het up! I’m only being protective of you, honey.’

  ‘I am quite capable of looking after myself. I’ve been doing that since I was seventeen, when I went to live in New York. Remember, Dad?’

  ‘Yes, I do remember, and you weren’t on your own, you were living with my parents in Manhattan. And listen to me, Evan, I don’t care how nice this guy Gideon is, I know what his type are like, snobby, class conscious, out to get what they can from a woman—’

  ‘Dad! Stop it. And at once! Gideon’s not like that, and in any case, I told you we’re just good friends. I’m not having an affair with him, if that’s what you’re getting at. He’s taken me out a few times, a number of times actually, but that’s it. We have a lovely friendship, he’s tried to be kind, to steer me in the right direction, giving me helpful tips about working at Harte’s.’

  ‘I understand. But remember, he’s from a very different world than you’re accustomed to, Evan, and I want you to be careful. I don’t want anyone ever to take advantage of you.’

  ‘They won’t,’ she said in the steadiest voice she could muster. ‘I’m a big girl, you know, a grown-up now, Dad. And you have always said I’m very level-headed. So I just don’t really understand this tack you’re taking with me.’

  ‘Let’s not quarrel, Evan,’ he said in a less belligerent voice.

  ‘I’m not quarrelling,’ she shot back, thinking he was the one trying to pick a fight, not her.

  ‘All right, honey, I trust you, trust your judgement. Anyway I’d better get off the phone. I have to drive into New York this afternoon.’

  ‘Dad, if I’m not here at the hotel, and you want to speak to me, you can always call me at the store, you know.’

  ‘I don’t like to bother you at work.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be, honest.’

  ‘All right then. Take care, honey. I love you.’

  ‘I love you, Dad. And give my love to the girls and Mom.’

  ‘I will. Bye.’

  She said goodbye and put the phone down, stood for a moment with her hand on the receiver, thinking about the conversation. Her father just hadn’t sounded like himself, and she couldn’t help wondering why.

  As Evan stepped out of the lift she collided with Arlette Thomas, almost knocking her over.

  Gripping Evan’s arm, steadying herself, the somewhat diminutive Frenchwoman exclaimed, ‘Mon Dieu, Evan, you are in the hurry!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Arlette. I didn�
�t mean to hurt you!’

  ‘I am perfectly all right, cherie,’ Arlette answered, looking up at Evan, smiling at her, as usual quite entranced by the young American. ‘You look très chic tonight, but, more importantly, very beautiful. I hope you have the rendezvous….’ She paused, laughing, and her eyes twinkled…‘with that nice young man you told me about.’

  Evan couldn’t help smiling back at her, and she realized then that Arlette had not meant to make mischief by mentioning Gideon to her father. She had merely done what came naturally to a romantic Frenchwoman–she had passed on what she thought was a little bit of harmless information about two young people going out together. Evan had come to know Arlette quite well in the last two months, and she was aware that the charming and motherly woman did not have a bad bone in her body. On the contrary, she was kind, loving, and saw only the best in everyone.

  Edging towards the lobby of the hotel, Evan, nonetheless, ignored the remark about Gideon, and said, ‘I was just talking to my father. He called me from Connecticut. I understand you told him I had an admirer.’

  ‘Mais oui, cherie. I am so happy for you…and I told him that, too, and I said it was always nice for a young woman like you to have a lovely male companion.’

  Evan said nothing, and a tiny silence fell between them.

  Arlette, looking at Evan keenly, suddenly wondered if she had done the wrong thing by mentioning Gideon to Owen Hughes, and she frowned, made a small moue. ‘I hope you did not mind that I spoke in that way…I hope I did not speak out of turn to your father?’

  Arlette sounded so troubled, and there was such a worried expression in her dark eyes, Evan exclaimed, ‘No, no, not at all. He called me because he hadn’t heard from me for over a week, I’ve been so busy with work. I guess he worries. But he shouldn’t, Arlette. I’m a grown woman, I’ll soon be twenty-seven.’

  ‘That’s very old; so old it’s downright ancient,’ a masculine voice with a lilting Welsh accent said behind them.