Emma's Secret

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  The two women swung around as George Thomas, Arlette’s husband, came walking out of the office next to the concierge’s small desk. Both of them laughed, and so did George.

  The tall, pleasant-looking Welshman drew to a standstill next to Evan and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You look bonny tonight, my dear.’

  ‘Thanks, George,’ she responded cheerfully, smiling at him. ‘I was just talking to Dad. I guess he was on the phone to you during the week, worrying about me as usual.’

  ‘I told him he should stop doing that, and immediately. You’re well grounded, Evan, and he ought to know that. He brought you up. And you’re levelheaded. I think I embarrassed him a bit, actually, because I gave him a lecture.’ George began to laugh. ‘I told him he was getting to be a fuss-pot, an old lady.’

  ‘He wouldn’t like that!’ Evan exclaimed. ‘Anyway, he was fine when we hung up. To be fair, I suppose he misses me a lot.’

  ‘Yes, he does.’ George hesitated, and then he said in a low voice, ‘I hope you’re going to stay on at the hotel, Evan. The other day Arlette told me you had been thinking of finding a flat.’

  ‘Oh, but not at the moment though,’ Evan replied. ‘I’m far too busy, and I’m so happy and comfortable here at the hotel. Maybe one day I’ll look for a flat, but not just yet.’

  ‘I’m very happy to hear that,’ George said.

  ‘And so am I, cherie,’ Arlette agreed. ‘And now we must let you go. I know you are in a hurry.’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Have a lovely evening,’ George said.

  Arlette merely gave her a knowing glance as she smiled broadly, the look in her eyes soulful and romantic.

  Evan smiled back, and she couldn’t resist winking at the Frenchwoman.

  Evan found a cab immediately, and gave the cabbie the address of the newspaper offices. Then she sat back as the taxi swung around and headed towards Belgrave Square. She could not help thinking about the conversation with her father, as she settled back on the seat. He had sounded so unlike himself…very odd really. There had been a hint of belligerence in his voice, and his tone had been rather critical when it came to the Hartes. But why? He didn’t even know them. He had told her his mother had only ever mentioned Emma Harte to him once in passing, years ago, when she had said she had met her in the war years. It’s very peculiar, she said to herself, and then wondered if it had merely been her father’s possessiveness coming to the fore, and nothing else. Although she was reluctant to admit it to anyone, she had always known that she came before her adopted sisters, that she had always been his favourite, because she was his biological child. He had favoured her in everything, had quietly spoilt her when she was growing up, and even later.

  But he had never displayed any kind of possessiveness before, much less shown jealousy when she had brought home her various boyfriends over the years. On the other hand, he had known that none of them had been very serious contenders for her hand in marriage. Except for Willard Cox.

  With his approval, she had become engaged to Willard five years ago, but it hadn’t lasted very long. Once she had decided to break it off with Will, her father had admitted that he had never thought that wedding bells would ring for them. ‘Will wouldn’t have been able to handle you, Evan. He’s far too weak,’ her father had said, and they had never mentioned him again. Owen had never even asked her why she had broken her engagement. If he had she would have told him the truth: one day, it had dawned on her that she didn’t like Will. Certainly she wasn’t in love with him, that was for sure.

  She had never been in love. But she knew she might easily fall in love with Gideon. On the other hand, was she simply carried away because of his charm, his savoir-faire, his looks, his uniqueness, his very Englishness? She wasn’t sure.

  Gideon had made it clear he was keen on her, wanted to pursue a relationship. He had been a devoted friend to her since her first working day at Harte’s, had made a point of taking her to lunch a couple of times a week, although it was always in the Bird Cage, the restaurant at the store, because of her tough schedule. And they had been out to dinner a number of times. He had held her hand, kissed her goodnight, but he had never been aggressive; he had handled her with kid gloves, as if he didn’t want to scare her off. In fact, he had been the perfect gentleman.

  One thing was certain–they got on well, were compatible with each other. They never stopped talking, had many things in common, and similar tastes. She wasn’t exactly sure what his true feelings were, but she had stars in her eyes about him…he was a very desirable man.

  As they entered the Mall and went down towards Trafalgar Square, it suddenly struck Evan that she hadn’t liked the way her father had characterized Gideon, without even having met him. It was not like the Owen Hughes she had grown up with and knew so well…or thought she knew. Perhaps she didn’t, after all.

  Looking back over the past few weeks, she realized that he had been churlish about the Hartes from the moment she had found a job at the store. Did he have something against them? But if so, why had he encouraged her to go to see Emma Harte? He hadn’t, now that she thought about it. He’d actually made no comment. It was only when she had pressed him that he had said something: that Glynnis had known Emma in the Second World War. He had not volunteered anything else. Had her father always known that Emma Harte was dead and buried for thirty-one years? If that were so he had let her go on a wild-goose chase knowing that her visit to Harte’s would come to nothing. He had been humouring her perhaps, because of her devotion to her grandmother. That was the only explanation…

  Her mobile began to ring, and she fished around for it in her handbag, brought it to her ear. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Evan, it’s me, Gideon.’

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Just coming down the Mall. I’m almost at Trafalgar Square.’

  ‘That’s good. I’ve finished here at the paper earlier than I expected. Tell the cabbie to take you to the Savoy. I’ll meet you in the bar.’

  ‘I’ll see you in a few minutes,’ she answered, and put the mobile back in her bag.

  They sat together in a quiet corner of the bar, sipping their glasses of white wine and talking. At least Gideon was talking, about his work mostly, and Evan was listening attentively. Finally he fell silent. As he had been speaking his eyes had remained on her face, and they were still on her.

  She returned his fixed scrutiny steadily, without blinking. His light green eyes looked as if they were flecked with gold in the dim light of the bar, and it seemed to her that he was trying to convey his innermost feelings to her. She realized they were the same as hers: identical, in fact.

  After a moment, Gideon said, ‘I have a confession to make…’

  ‘Yes?’ she asked quietly, staring into his face, which was now full of yearning.

  ‘I’ve never felt like this before…the way I feel about you.’

  ‘Neither have I.’

  A small smile settled on his mouth.

  ‘I think we both share the same feelings for each other,’ Evan said.

  ‘I hope so.’ His face filled with sudden happiness. ‘I’m not playing around with you. I’m very serious about you, so tell me if you don’t feel the same…If this is just a passing thing for you, then say so now.’

  She shook her head vehemently. ‘It’s not a passing thing. I’m not in the habit of playing around. But we still have a long way to go. We have to get to know each other better, don’t you think? We need to spend more time together.’

  He nodded his understanding, took hold of her hand again, brought it to his mouth, kissed the back of it. ‘There’s one way I want to get to know you much better. And tonight. Will you come home with me later…so that we can be together at last?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I booked a table at Rules for dinner.’

  ‘Oh, you did!’

  ‘You told me you went there with your grandparents when you were twelve. But you don’t so
und very enthusiastic’

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Neither am I.’ His eyes held hers. ‘I want to be with you more than anything in the whole world. Would you like to leave now?’

  ‘Yes, I would,’ she whispered.

  Gideon Harte paid the bill and they left the bar.

  He escorted her through the lobby, his hand under her elbow, solicitous as he always was with her, and they stepped out into the courtyard of the hotel.

  A moment later his driver was pulling up alongside them; as they got into the car, Gideon said, ‘You can drop us off at home, Harry, thanks.’

  Once they were settled on the back seat and the car edged out of the yard, his arms went around her and she brought her face up to his. He kissed her deeply and continued to kiss her for a few minutes longer, and then he moved his face away from hers. Sitting up a little straighter, he still held her tightly in his arms; against the cloud of her dark hair, he murmured, ‘I’ve got to stop this. I can’t stand it. I think I’m going to explode.’

  ‘I know, I know.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Evan had been to Gideon’s flat once before with Linnet and Julian: they had gone for drinks before the four of them went out to dinner. That night she had been struck by its inherent good taste, but now she saw, at a quick glance, that it also had great charm and comfort. The whole was a mingling of greys and soft blues, accented with white, and there were some very good paintings on the walls.

  After taking her coat, he led her from the entrance hall into the sitting room, where he turned on more lamps. But they did not linger there. In his usual take-charge manner he ushered her across the room in the direction of his bedroom. ‘Let’s go in here now, darling. Let’s not be coy. All right?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered softly.

  Evan knew that she would have been slightly startled if this somewhat cut-and-dried comment had come from anyone else. But not from Gideon; he was so kind and sincere he had meant it in the best possible way. Anyway, she liked his directness. They had come here to make love. Why pretend otherwise?

  In the bedroom he snapped on a small lamp in a corner, and then turned to her, kissed her lightly on the mouth and began to unbutton the neckline of her black wool dress. But suddenly he stopped, drew her to him and held her very close. He said, after a moment, ‘I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me, Evan, having you here with me. And I do want to please you so much…’ He let the words slide away, held her tighter.

  ‘You do,’ she whispered.

  Later that night she was to remember how tender and loving he was when they undressed, recall how she realized he was being so true to his nature…gentle and thoughtful, concerned for her.

  Gideon held her in his arms, kissing her, touching her lightly; and she responded to him ardently. He was as tall as she was, and they fitted well together as they lay alongside each other on the bed. Eventually he began to stroke her, exploring her body, kissing her all over, and then he covered her with his long, lean body, and her arms went around him. Her fingers crept into the hair on the nape of his neck, and then she slid her hands down over his shoulders and onto the small of his back.

  He was very still, quiet, hardly speaking at all, except for a few gently murmured endearments. And she was silent, too, enjoying this intense communion without words, enjoying his hands all over her. His touching, so experienced and knowing, was erotic, sensual.

  Bracing himself on his hands on either side of her, he looked down into her face, his eyes on hers. The expression in them was so intense, so penetrating, she felt as if he were seeing into her very soul, and she into his. Unexpectedly his face contorted slightly, and his eyes widened, as if in surprise, as he took her to him finally, sinking deeply into her.

  An involuntary moan escaped her as he thrust harder, deeper, and he instantly covered her mouth with his, tasting her. Almost at once they fell into their own fluid rhythm, moving together as one.

  Evan, her arms and legs wrapped around him, felt the heat rushing through her. It was rising from the core of her. She was red hot with desire, her face flaming under his touch as he stroked it roughly, then brought his hand down onto her breast, cupping it. The heat flowing through her suddenly seemed to intensify; she knew she was on the verge of climaxing and her body began to tremble under his. She whispered, ‘Gideon. Oh Gideon. Please don’t stop.’

  He raised himself again, looked down into her face, his eyes piercing, overflowing with desire. ‘I won’t,’ he said, his voice still hoarse, rasping with his own pent-up emotions. ‘Come to me, Evan, come to me, darling. Be mine, as I am yours.’ Gideon could no longer control himself. Shudders racked through him, convulsed him, and he gripped her body hard, pulled it tighter to him. And they crested together on wave upon wave of pure, unadulterated joy.

  They lay together in a mass of tangled sheets, not moving, not speaking. Eventually, Gideon moved closer, half covered Evan with his body and moved strands of hair away from her face. Staring into her luminous grey eyes, he said softly, ‘Before, you said I pleased you. I hope I please you even more now?’

  She smiled up at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Yes, you do. Very much.’

  He nodded, still looking at her intently, and then he let his hand wander down from her breasts, over her stomach towards the vee of black hair at the top of her legs. He caressed her with tenderness, kissed her passionately, slowly found her core and began to make love to her with great concentration. Almost immediately her legs began to quiver, and her whole body stiffened, and she cried out as waves of ecstasy convulsed her.

  Eventually she calmed, and he wrapped his arms around her, held her close to him, and said in a low voice, ‘I want you to be mine and only mine, Evan.’

  ‘I am, Gideon,’ she whispered, and reached up to touch his face.

  Evan awakened suddenly, snapping open her eyes, glancing about. Disoriented for a moment, she glanced around the dimly lit room, and then she realized she was at Gideon’s flat in Belgravia.

  Turning, she reached for him, only to discover that his side of the bed was empty. She got up, found the terrycloth robe he had given her last night, and put it on. Padding across the carpet in her bare feet, she found Gideon in the sitting room. Wrapped in a dark blue silk dressing gown, wearing his tortoiseshell glasses, he was seated at his desk, his head down, staring at papers, his briefcase open on the floor.

  He must have sensed her presence. He glanced up and instantly smiled at her. ‘Darling! It’s the middle of the night. Go back to bed.’

  She leaned against the door jamb for a second, and then glided over, stood before him at the desk. ‘It’s three o’clock. Do you always work at this hour?’

  ‘Frequently. But I’ve already accomplished quite a lot in an hour, so come on, let’s get a bit of sleep if we can.’

  He rose, came around the desk, took hold of her hand and led her back to the bedroom. They got into bed and he turned out the lamp, took her in his arms, kissed her cheek and held her close. After a moment he said, ‘I have to go to the Isle of Man again on business. I want you to come with me. Will you, darling?’

  ‘Yes. If Linnet lets me have the time off.’

  ‘She will.’ He nuzzled the back of her neck, and they settled down. And entwined, comfortable with each other, they soon dozed.

  But within the hour Evan woke up again. During sleep they had disentangled themselves from each other; Gideon was lying on his side at the edge of the bed, obviously in a very deep slumber, breathing evenly.

  She curled against his back and closed her eyes, but sleep eluded her. For a while she thought about every single moment of the last few hours, relived them; she focused on their sexual attraction, their rampant desire for each other, their passionate lovemaking. It seemed to her that they were perfect together, perfect in every way, really. They had discovered, right from the beginning of their relationship, that they were completely compatible; that had been paten
tly obvious to them both. In these last few weeks they had come to know each other well, had become friends and, in a way, allies. She was glad of that; happy that they had such a strong foundation for their relationship. There was no question that she was in love with him. She wanted him. It was apparent to her that he felt the same way.

  Unexpectedly, her father’s words came back to her. The way he had fitted Gideon into some ridiculous slot in his mind was shocking. How foolish it was to characterize and categorize people. And her father wasn’t a stupid man. So perhaps it was something else which made him speak in that awful manner. Dislike of the Hartes? But he didn’t even know them. Or did he? She was becoming very suspicious of her father as far as Emma Harte’s offspring were concerned.

  Gideon moved restlessly, made a strange, strangled noise in his throat, as if he were having a bad dream, and then almost at once he settled down again. Gently, Evan smoothed her hand across his back, not wanting to wake him, but wanting, certainly, to soothe him.

  Gideon worked so hard. Sometimes when he met her for dinner it was well after nine o’clock, and he looked exhausted, his face pinched, his eyes dull and weary. It took him a while to relax, to let go of that world he occupied all day. It was a world he loved, she knew that, but it took its toll. He was trying to build the circulation of the London Evening Post, and he needed to entice Christian Palmer back to the paper. That’s why he had to return to the Isle of Man. Last week he had told her he was working on the contract for Christian, and that things now looked positive. She hoped Gideon would succeed.

  The entire family worked hard; she had realized this right from her first day at the store. And she had told her father this earlier tonight, but he hadn’t seemed impressed. He just wanted to focus on his own view of them; but his view was skewed. She had begun to understand that the Hartes were totally dedicated to the great business empire founded by Emma Harte. ‘A legend in her own time,’ Linnet had explained the other day. ‘Imagine that, Evan. Already a legend when she was only in her early fifties. It’s amazing.’ But they were all amazing, weren’t they?