A Vengeful Deception

by Lee Wilkinson

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you saw each other from time to time?’

  ‘No, I’ve never set eyes on him from that day to this.’

  Though he let it go, she got the distinct impression that Gideon doubted that assurance.

  After a moment, he asked, ‘Were you still in love with him?’

  ‘I thought I was, for a while… But, after seeing him with that other woman, I knew he hadn’t changed and never would.’

  ‘So you kept his engagement ring?’

  Puzzled by this fixation about rings, she shook her head. ‘I’ve told you, he never gave me an engagement ring. He didn’t believe in marriage.’

  Firmly, she added, ‘The only engagement ring I’ve ever had is the pretend one you put on my finger last night.’

  Eyes narrowed in thought, Gideon sat staring into the middle distance, while Anna gazed her fill at his handsome profile—the strong chin and nose, the chiselled lips, the thick sweep of dark lashes almost resting on the hard cheekbones…

  When he turned towards her, as though caught in some misdemeanour, she looked hastily away.

  His voice even, he changed the subject to ask, ‘So now you know why I hadn’t expected you to still be a virgin, do you feel any happier about things?’

  ‘A great deal happier. I thought you suspected me of something terrible, but at least going to live with one’s boyfriend isn’t a crime. Though for a time it sounded as though being a virgin was.’

  Seeing his mouth tighten, she added a shade helplessly, ‘I still can’t understand why you were so angry.’

  ‘I wasn’t angry because you were a virgin. I was angry with myself for not realising the truth until it was too late.’

  He took her hand and held it, his thumb circling the palm. ‘I’m sorry, Anna. I feel an utter swine.’

  ‘There’s no need to. It’s not as if you forced me to sleep with you.’

  ‘No, but I seduced a woman who had made her views on casual sex pretty plain… And, though you may not believe it, I do have some scruples.’

  ‘I do believe it. You said you wouldn’t have made love to me if you’d known…’

  He smiled wryly. ‘I said probably. But I’m only flesh and blood, and you’re enough to tempt the Archangel Gabriel himself. I’ve never in my life wanted a woman as much as I wanted you.’

  Looking into her beautiful, long-lashed grey eyes, he added with a sigh, ‘Now it’s too late to alter anything.’

  She shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t want to alter anything.’

  ‘But you’d like it to end there?’

  ‘You said you wanted me. Do you still?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I want you. But haven’t you always hoped for some commitment?’

  She’d hoped for the right man, as well as some commitment. But now she knew that, of the two, the right man was by far the most important.

  Firmly, she said, ‘It no longer matters.’ Her voice serene she added, ‘I’ve burnt my bridges—’ and it had been a glorious blaze ‘—so, as you remarked earlier, there’s no going back.’

  ‘But would you be happy to go on with nothing more than a ring from a Christmas cracker?’

  For as long as you want me… But she couldn’t tell him that, so, by way of an answer, she snuggled up to him and lifted her face for his kiss.

  Instead of kissing her, he ran long, lean fingers over the stubble on his jaw, making it rasp. ‘Much as I’d like to take up the invitation, I think I’d better do something about this first.’

  ‘Do you have to?’

  ‘Have you ever been kissed in the early morning by a man who’s in need of a shave?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. My education has been sadly neglected.’

  ‘Then you don’t know what it’s like.’

  Putting up a hand, she stroked her fingertips over the roughness, following his jawline and tracing the enticing cleft in his chin. ‘I think it’s sexy.’

  ‘Well, if you want sexy.’ Bending his head, he nuzzled his face against her breasts, very gently rubbing his bristly chin against her nipples, before taking one in his mouth.

  She gave a little gasp.

  He stopped immediately, and asked, ‘Painful?’

  ‘Wonderful,’ she corrected huskily. ‘Don’t stop.’

  He laughed. ‘With that sort of encouragement, I think I can promise you a host of sensations you’ve never experienced before.’

  ‘What kind of sensations?’

  ‘The kind that make your toes curl.’

  Some considerable time later, after he’d more than made good his promise and she was lying comfortably in his arms, he glanced down at her and asked, ‘Getting hungry?’

  A look at her watch showed it was almost eleven-thirty but, euphoric, she had never given food a thought. Now she did, and announced, ‘Starving.’

  ‘Bacon and eggs and all the trimmings?’

  ‘Can’t wait! But I’d like to take a shower first. Wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I intend to.’ Jumping out of bed, he headed for the bathroom without the gas water heater.

  Just the sight of his lithe, tanned body made her throat go dry. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you were in need of a cold shower,’ she teased huskily.

  At the bathroom door, he turned to say, ‘As you’re hungry, and I’m cooking brunch, I thought it might be quicker.’

  ‘Well, I certainly can’t imagine you’d want to dawdle over a cold shower,’ she agreed. ‘But wouldn’t it be just as quick if we shared a hot one?’

  Returning to the bed, he scooped her up in his arms. ‘It might not be as quick, but it’s bound to be more fun.’

  He proved to be right.

  In fact it was so much fun that it was over an hour before they were companionably settled in front of a blazing kitchen fire, tucking into generous platefuls of bacon and eggs.

  When brunch was over, Gideon got up to make a pot of coffee, and feeling she needed to do her share, Anna cleared away and stacked the dishwasher.

  She was in an almost trance-like mood of elation, high on a drug called love. Having resolved to think neither of the past nor the future, she was living for the moment, encased in a rainbow bubble of pure joy and gladness.

  Their coffee finished, Gideon put down his empty cup and remarked, ‘The snow’s much too deep and slushy to take a walk, so have you any ideas about what you’d like to do on Boxing Day afternoon?’

  ‘I don’t really mind,’ she answered vaguely. Just sitting here with him was enough to make her cup of happiness overflow. ‘Whatever you want to do.’

  ‘Well, now…!’ He grinned, showing white, healthy teeth, and she thought yet again how utterly irresistible he was when he smiled. ‘I would suggest taking you back to bed, but I’m—’

  ‘Exhausted?’ she suggested cheekily.

  Giving her a pained look, he finished, ‘Planning to save some excitement for tonight. If you can bear to wait, that is?’

  He cocked an eyebrow at her, and smiled when she turned pink.

  After a moment, his face becoming oddly serious, he suggested, ‘If I remember rightly, I promised to show you some of my father’s collection of books and manuscripts?’

  ‘Yes, I’d like that.’

  ‘Well, though the weather has turned considerably warmer, it won’t make much difference to the temperature in the study, so I suggest we put our coats on.’

  Coats on, they crossed the hall to the front of the house where, through the long windows, Anna could see that despite the thaw her car remained partially buried.

  There was still a lot of snow to clear, though no doubt the main roads would be passable by now and, so long as it didn’t freeze tonight, tomorrow would see a return to normality. The thought was an unwelcome one, and she pushed it away.

  The study was a large, light, elegant room with an Adam fireplace and an ornate plaster ceiling. Running the entire length of one wall was a series of special closed cabinets and storage drawers, with a built-in desk holding what
Gideon described as a ‘steam-driven’ computer.

  Side by side on an expense of rich, Turkey-red carpet were two long, matching desks complete with comfortable-looking swivel chairs. On both desk-tops were state-of-the-art computers and all the latest technological equipment.

  Anna was impressed, and said so.

  ‘I’m intending to use the study as my office,’ Gideon told her, ‘so all this stuff is newly installed.’

  Taking a bunch of keys from his father’s old desk, he unlocked the nearest cabinet. ‘You’ll find some of the more interesting manuscripts in here. As we have no electricity I’m afraid I can’t tell you exactly what’s where, so I suggest you just have a browse while I make a phone call.’

  He sat down at one of the desks and took the mobile from his pocket. A few moments later she heard him say, ‘Hi! Where are you? Yes, I realise that… I’ll have a cheque waiting for you… No, I don’t need your thanks; just put it to good use… Very well… Yes, do that…’

  There was a brief pause, then he spoke again, his tone warmer. ‘Yes, I thought the thaw should have improved matters… You are? Well, see you soon… Let me know if there’s a problem of any kind.’

  From the corner of her eye, she watched him put the phone on the desk, then he opened one of the drawers and, taking out a large, flat package, withdrew the contents and started to go through them.

  Wondering about that ‘see you soon’, Anna began to browse, but without her usual keen interest.

  Though she could tell almost immediately that this part of Sir Ian’s collection was both excellent and wide-ranging, for once in her life books and manuscripts were pushed into second place while she thought over what she’d just heard.

  There was little doubt that whoever Gideon had been speaking to was the person who had phoned the previous day, and that same person would soon be arriving here.

  But if it was his lady-friend, after everything they had shared last night and again this morning, surely he would be considerate enough to warn her?

  Or would he? Would he actually care enough about her feelings to think of it?

  And, if he did, what good would it do to warn her? It wouldn’t lessen the hurt. Though it might give her a chance to hide it…

  ‘Seen anything you like?’ Gideon’s voice broke into her uneasy thoughts.

  ‘A lot.’ She made an effort to sound enthusiastic.

  He reached to pull the other swivel chair alongside his own and, waving her into it, asked casually, ‘Any you’d particularly like to own?’

  ‘Plenty, but none I could afford, even if they were for sale… You said it was one of your interests, so I expect you’ll want to keep the collection intact?’

  ‘It is, and I do.’

  ‘I know it takes time and money, but have you any plans to add to it?’

  He shrugged. ‘That would depend. Money’s no problem but, as a hobby, I feel collecting might prove to be too time-consuming. Unless I decided to turn the whole thing into a business… Incidentally, there’s something I’m curious about. You mentioned coming back to Rymington to open your shop… May I ask how you managed to raise enough capital to buy all the stock you must have needed?’

  On the surface his question was merely a casual enquiry. But beneath that urbane politeness she could sense an undercurrent of something a great deal more pointed and deadly.

  Shaken, she drew a deep breath to steady herself, before answering levelly, ‘I think I told you I took out a bank loan? The rest was what was realised by the sale of Drum Cottage—you know, the one I pointed out to you on the way here.’

  ‘You said you loved the cottage. I’m surprised you wanted to part with it.’

  ‘I didn’t want to part with it, but when my parents were killed I had little option. I was still at university and I needed the money. At first I tried letting it, but after the tenants virtually wrecked the place and went off still owing rent I was advised to sell.’

  ‘Even with a bank loan, and the amount raised by the sale, it must have been a struggle to buy enough things as valuable as the John Donne letter you mentioned.’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘How did you manage it?’

  ‘I always tried to find out in advance what was coming up for sale, then, whenever possible, buy privately. If things go to auction it can often push the price up.’

  ‘So how did you acquire that particular manuscript?’ Gideon’s voice was even, with no suggestion now of anything deeper than a passing interest. ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell, really…’

  Refusing to be put off, he persisted, ‘Did you buy it at auction?’

  ‘No. I had a contact who told me about it.’

  ‘When you mentioned it last evening, you said apparently written by John Donne, which suggests you weren’t sure it was genuine.’

  ‘I was quite sure it was genuine, but because of the circumstances I was unable to prove it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, it…it came to me in a roundabout way and—’

  ‘You mean dishonestly?’

  She flushed hotly, and, stiff with resentment, said, ‘No, I don’t mean dishonestly! It was a private sale, and I paid the asking price for it.’

  ‘Then I fail to see the problem.’

  ‘The seller promised to provide a provenance, but didn’t, so, because I couldn’t prove its origin, in the end I was forced to part with it at a loss.’

  ‘Speaking of John Donne…’ Gideon picked up an envelope and, having removed a single sheet of paper, handed it to her. ‘See what you think of that.’

  Holding it carefully, she began to read in silence. Written by Donne to one of his parishioners who was about to get married, it was a very beautiful letter on the subject of human love and divine love.

  Hardly able to believe her eyes, Anna read it through twice, then studied the signature carefully before looking up.

  Watching her face, Gideon queried, ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘Is this a genuine Donne?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I would say it is.’

  ‘And you would be right.’

  Sounding stunned, she said, ‘But it’s identical to the one I had.’

  When he merely looked at her, she added, ‘Don’t you see? If this manuscript is genuine, then the one I bought must have been a copy. No wonder they couldn’t provide a provenance.’

  ‘You don’t think the letters are one and the same?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m sure they can’t possibly be.’

  ‘Why are you so sure?’

  ‘Well if this is part of Sir Ian’s collection—’

  ‘It was part of his collection,’ Gideon broke in. ‘Unfortunately it was stolen.’

  ‘Stolen?’ she exclaimed. ‘How did it come to be stolen?’

  His face like granite, he said, ‘I thought you might be able to answer that.’

  ‘Why should I be able to—?’ She stopped short, and then, every trace of colour draining from her cheeks, whispered, ‘You surely don’t think I stole it!’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘No, I didn’t!’ Anger and agitation brought the colour rushing back. ‘Apart from the fact that I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing, how could I possibly have had an opportunity?’

  ‘My dear Anna, we both know you had several opportunities. The time for pretence is over, so you might as well admit the whole thing.’

  ‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. If you’re still thinking I might have been one of your father’s girlfriends—’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Well, whatever it is you are thinking, let me tell you you’re totally wrong. I’ve never stolen anything in my life. And what would be the point of stealing something like that, anyway? If I couldn’t provide a provenance it wouldn’t fetch anywhere near what it was worth.’

  ‘I understand there are ways of getting round that particular p
roblem. Fake provenances, for example. I’ve even heard it whispered that one or two of the more avid and…shall we say unscrupulous collectors don’t insist on a provenance if it’s something they particularly want and they’re convinced it’s the real thing. So you see, that’s not a particularly good defence. In any case, you told me yourself that you didn’t want to part with it, so perhaps you didn’t intend to sell it…’

  ‘I think you’re mad,’ she said shakily. ‘For one thing you’re presuming that the document I had and this letter are one and the same. I know they can’t be.’

  ‘Why can’t they be?’

  ‘Because the one I had only changed hands a short time ago. How long have you had this?’

  ‘I bought it a short time ago, along with some other valuable items.’

  As he spoke, he put several manuscripts on the desk and fanned them out to enable her to see them better.

  Staring at them dazedly, she said, ‘So you’re the “collector” who bought my stock!’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked helplessly.

  ‘Because some of the things came from my father’s collection and I wanted them back.’

  ‘You’re quite wrong. I’ve never to my knowledge bought—and I’ve certainly never stolen—anything from your father. And that includes this letter.’

  ‘Then tell me exactly where it came from. And while you’re at it—’ he selected three more manuscripts and tossed them down in front of her ‘—I’d like to know where you got this…this…and this…’

  CHAPTER NINE

  AS ANNA stared down at the documents one thing immediately became clear.

  Watching her turn white to the lips, Gideon said coldly, ‘Yes, I rather thought it might prove impossible to explain.’

  Lifting her chin, she said, ‘It isn’t impossible, but it is awkward. You see, I didn’t buy these things in the usual way—’

  ‘I’m sure you didn’t,’ he butted in coldly.

  ‘But I did buy them.’

  ‘So you keep telling me.’ Watching her flush, he added with a sigh, ‘Isn’t it about time to admit you’ve been lying all along.’

  ‘I haven’t been lying,’ she denied with a combination of anger and weariness.