She had, practically. Miserably she looked down at her hands and saw they were shaking. Her clothing was still wet, but nerves and shock were more responsible for the state she was in. Blindly she nodded, unable to deny it. ‘I can only say,’ she gulped, ‘that it might have been fairer to have told me. I can’t believe there was any need for such secrecy.’
Stein rose to pour himself another drink, but again didn’t offer her anything. He returned to his seat, his movements deliberate, as though he enjoyed keeping her in suspense. Helen watched indifferently as he slowly raised his glass. Somehow she had lost all desire for sustenance of any kind. Even a drink might have choked her.
He surveyed her, his eyes, no warmer than she felt, wandering over her slight, shivering figure. ‘Your father asked me not to say anything. It was, in fact, part of our agreement. He didn’t want you to know he’d lost everything. ‘
Harold Dent had mentioned that Lester had owed such huge sums of money he had found it impossible to carryon, but there was a lot the solicitor hadn’t explained. He had obviously had no idea Helen hadn’t been fully aware of the true situation from the beginning. There was only Stein, and he wasn’t making it easy, but she had to know.
She stared at him entreatingly, her eyes huge in her white face. ‘How could he expect to keep something like this from me indefinitely? Other people must have known. It couldn’t have been any great secret!’
‘It wasn’t.’ Stein’s voice was curt and dry. ‘If you’d been older and wiser you might have realised. Why do you think Lester kept you in the typing pool?’
‘To get experience.’
‘Experience, my foot!’ Stein muttered, half under his breath. ‘It was to keep you in ignorance of the true state of affairs. That was why he made you leave your job.’
Helen’s face was-a dreadful colour and she trembled afresh as every word Stein uttered seemed to emphasise her own stupidity. When she thought back, there had been odd things, but she had been too dazzled by a future image of herself as head of the firm to take much notice of danger signals. She should have been more observant, but’ she wasn’t unintelligent, If only Stein had given her a hint!
‘You can’t have been legally obliged to go on helping him to deceive me,’ she said.
Stein’s mouth tightened. ‘I wasn’t. The situation happened to intrigue me at a time when I was feeling a trifle jaded.’
‘You mean you did it to amuse yourself?’
‘Partly,’ he allowed. She didn’t notice the wary note in his voice. ‘Your father was determined to sell only to someone agreeable to keeping all knowledge of his insolvency from you.’
‘Surely,’ Helen cried incredulously, ‘he didn’t expect to find anyone willing to take him seriously?’
‘There was just a chance he might have succeeded,’
Stein said grimly. ‘I knew of at least two other companies who were interested enough not to allow a little thing like that to stand in their way.’
‘Why did you want the firm?’ she asked tonelessly.
‘Because of its future potential,’ he replied briefly.
Future potential? That could mean anything? Bitterly she gazed at him. ‘So you took over the lot?’
‘The lot?’
‘The firm, this house-my father!’ Her voice rose.
‘How could he have lost it all? He never mentioned a thing. Do you know how it happened?’
‘It didn’t happen overnight,’ Stein replied curtly, ‘He stuck to old-fashioned technology and refused to install new machinery and left too much to other people. The competence, in some cases integrity, of his executive staff left a lot to be desired. When he first found he was getting into difficulties he should have done something then.’
‘What could he have done?’ Helen whispered.
Stein eyed her ruthlessly. ‘If a firm is to be saved something usually has to be done when the rot first sets in. Your father could also have tried to retrench in his personal life. He had expensive—er—hobbies.’
‘Hobbies?’
‘You must have been aware of it. He stayed In London and went abroad a lot.’
Helen frowned. ‘On business.’
‘That’s one name for it, I suppose,’ Stein’s eyes held cool derision. ‘Some men make pleasure their main business in life.’
She stared at him, horrified at what he seemed to be implying. ‘I don’t believe you!’
‘You don’t have to look so stunned,’ he snapped. ‘In a way your father was a free agent, and you can’t criticise him for enjoying the same things you’re so fond of yourself. Whatever else he did he didn’t neglect you. He did everything he could to make amends. He even considered it a just punishment when you went off and left him.’
Helen felt too bewildered to protest as Stein coldly condemned her. There was too much evidence to dispute what Stein was telling her, but there was still a lot she failed to understand.
‘How could I know anything had changed? Dad was still with the firm when you joined it, when you apparently took over, that is. I never guessed.’
‘You weren’t meant to,’ said Stein. ‘He carried on working as part of the deal and we found him a position where he could do no harm.’
‘In other words,’ Helen interrupted bitterly, ‘We were living on your charity?’
‘If you like,’ he shrugged, ‘but at least you didn’t know. You weren’t difficult to fool.’
‘Perhaps I wasn’t,’ she admitted, flushing unhappily.
‘But don’t forget,” she added with a fraction more spirit, ‘that mightn’t have been wholly my fault. I was sent here and you were there.’
As if he understood perfectly what she was trying to say, his mouth thinned. ‘I wasn’t there often, just occasionally.’
‘You came home with Dad most evenings.’
‘Until you were sick of the sight of me,’ he taunted harshly.
She ignored this, not having the nerve to deny it, or able, with his icy eyes fixed on her, to find the courage to agree. ‘You frequently slept here,’ she muttered feebly.
‘But not with you, you made sure of that,’ he snarled, ‘I wasn’t good enough, or you thought I wasn’t. How you must be regretting that little mistake!’
‘Why did you come?’ she persisted, her skin hot but refusing to believe Stein’s visits had had anything to do with her. Not now.
‘The house was mine,’ he shrugged. ‘A new acquisition, if you like.’
‘Of course,’ she nodded dully, ‘I forgot. But I didn’t know then, did I?’
‘It shouldn’t have made that much difference,’ he said acidly.
‘It’s funny; isn’t it?’ she laughed, almost hysterically.
‘I objected to you staying in your own house!’
‘Do you think I didn’t realise?’ he mocked harshly. ‘I hadn’t counted on such undisguised antagonism. It didn’t take me long to realise you hated me.’
‘Hate’s a strong word,‘ she gulped miserably.
His face darkened. ‘You’re a girl with strong feelings.’
Was she? Helen’s eyes clouded desperately. She didn’t want Stein to know what she was like. She didn’t even want to acknowledge to herself that her feelings for him were so deep they were often in danger of making her forget everything else. ‘1—1 don’t believe I am,’ she murmured weakly.
His mouth twisted derisively. ‘Don’t say it only happens with me! When I kiss you I can feel the force of them. It’s quite exciting, I can tell you. But then,’ he jeered coldly, ‘I don’t suppose I’m the first man to be aware of that.’
She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. She did know he was the first man who had ever aroused her to any extent. She swallowed hard as she remembered certain moments, especially since she had come home again. As she lowered thick lashes to hide her revealing expression, she noticed Stein’s eyes were quite savage.
Why did she feel the way she did only when he kissed her? she wondered despairingly. He
had made it impossible for her to whip up any interest in other men.
Hadn’t she tried hard enough at those silly parties she had once been to? It had been no use. The outcome had left no room for doubt. In another man’s arms she might have been made of wood. Eventually she had given up, resorting to drowning her secret longing for Stein Maddison in too much alcohol and dancing. If she hadn’t been successful, no one knew but herself, and no one was likely to know now. Stein was staring at her and she could feel the contempt in his eyes beating into her, even when she had her own closed.
‘I think,’ she whispered helplessly, glancing at him again, ‘you imagine a lot about me that isn’t true.’
His mouth curled in a sneer at one corner as he rejected such a suggestion. ‘I never have to use my imagination where you’re concerned,’ he said unpleasantly.
‘I know you, Helen, even if I don’t like you. You might not realise that what you’ve given to other men is nothing compared with what you’re going to give to me.’
‘If it’s money you’re talking about,’ she said hollowly, ‘I haven’t any.’
‘It isn’t,’ he snapped, ‘but it’s interesting to know what you amount to financially.’
‘I don’t have enough to get me to London,’ she confessed expressionlessly. ‘I’ll have to beg a lift.’
‘And then?’ he enquired suavely.
‘I’ll find a job.’
His gaze searched her set features narrowly. ‘You aren’t trained for anything.’
‘There’s sure to be something,’ she retorted, more optimistically than she felt.
‘Maybe on the streets you might pick something up?’
Helen’s face went a shade whiter and she flinched.
His meaning was so clear she wanted to hit him, but she couldn’t even afford a sharp reply. Whatever he said, whatever he chose to throw at her by way of insults, she must endure it.
‘Why did you let us go on living here?’ she groaned, her mind spinning unsteadily back to what she considered the main issue. ‘Wouldn’t it have been kinder to have turned us out in the beginning?’
Impatience hardened his eyes. ‘It was your father’s stipulation that you should stay, not mine. In a way I confess it suited me to have someone here looking after the place. At the time I thought I had too many commitments to take up residence here permanently, and there are certain risks involved in leaving a house standing empty.’
‘And after I went to France?’ she asked flatly.
‘I began repairing and rebuilding,’ he said coolly.
‘The swimming-pool,’ she said, colour invading her cheeks as she recalled the comments she had made about it.
‘Yes’ the glint in his eyes showed he remembered too, ‘that was a new innovation. Useful for entertaining, now that I’m living here most of the time.’
She could imagine gay house-parties with Barbara Bates helping him to amuse his guests. Or maybe he intended getting married. When men spoke of settling down they usually had a wife in mind. She tried to imagine the kind of girl Stein would marry, and felt suddenly degrees colder.
‘Did you often stay here while I was away?’
Stein shook his dark head. ‘Only occasionally when we had people for the weekend. I found the flat more convenient when I wasn’t overseas. Your father saw to everything.’
‘And I came back and, as you said, began throwing my weight about.’
He took no notice of her bitterness. ‘What there is of it,’ he agreed, his eyes running over her with a slighting disparagement.
Her face flamed and she shivered. ‘You let me make a fool of myself. I think I hate you!’
Immediately Stein was beside her, lifting her bodily out of her chair, his hands gripping her narrow waist far from gentle. As she fell against him helplessly, he pulled her head back to allow his mouth to descend cruelly and crush her lips under his. The pressure, along with the harsh glitter in his eyes, froze Helen with shock so that she was unable to move.
She hadn’t expected he would ever want to touch her again, not even to satisfy a need for revenge, which was what this assault on her obviously was. She felt the warmth of his hard, male body, his movements deliberate and calculated, imposing his masculine superiority with a strength she found impossible to fight.
His mouth was savage until she became limp to the point of fainting at the pain he was inflicting. Then, with a contemptuous exclamation he thrust her back into the chair.
As she collapsed, shaking, he bent over her, his eyes smouldering with rage. ‘Don’t ever let me hear you say you hate me again,’ he snarled, ‘or you know the penalty!’
He looked so murderous her control almost broke.
She had thought his anger was going, but it must have been still simmering under the surface. ‘Leave me alone!’ she gasped, as his furious face came closer and amazingly something inside her yearned towards him.
Abruptly he straightened with a muttered oath, a dark red tinge on his hard cheeks. ‘I wouldn’t fancy you as you are now,’ he mocked. ‘You hair’s wet and so are your clothes, but I know you aren’t as indifferent as you pretend to be. I have a theory that you want me. You were trembling in my arms and you’ve been used, in Paris, to having a man around. I’m just wondering how long it’s going to be before you come begging?’
Horrified, Helen stared at him, fright and anger bringing a hectic flush to her white face. ‘If you imagine I’m staying here to provide you with free entertainment, you’re wrong!’ she gasped. ‘I’m leaving as soon as I get packed. I’ll hitch a ride.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the kind!’ he snapped savagely.
‘Attempt to leave and I’ll have you hunted down like a thief. And believe me, Miss Davis, I have enough money and influence in high places. You wouldn’t stand a chance!’
As she shrank from the menace almost visibly emanating from him, Helen’s thoughts churned frantically.
Threats were easy. Men threatened in order to wield power. It was merely bluff, only effective against those easily intimidated. She was filled with self-contempt for not having the courage to defy him as she heard herself protesting weakly, ‘Surely you don’t really want me to stay?’
‘How many times do I have to tell you,’ he rapped, ‘I’m not finished with you yet. When the day comes that I’m satisfied you can leave as soon as you like, but not until then. If you’re tempted to try and run, I’d advise you to think again. You owe me so much that apart from anything else I could have you arrested for non-payment of debts.’
Helen gasped, going very white. What was he saying?
A terrible sense of fear and desolation swept over her, but, other than being conscious of this, she didn’t seem able to work anything out. Her mouth was dry and her head ached. She knew she must be staring at Stein like a frightened rabbit, but she didn’t know how to reply.
He turned away, as if the sight of her offended him.
Setting down his empty glass, he said curtly, ‘We can discuss the matter of your debts another time. I have a dinner appointment in town and don’t want to be late.’
Helen struggled to her feet, swaying but able to stand. It was dark and still raining, she could hear the rain against the windowpanes! She felt suddenly very much alone. Stein hated her and was determined to make her pay for everything she had done, but she couldn’t believe he would really hurt her. In the heat of anger people often said things they didn’t mean. Once Stein had had time to cool down he might change his mind and be only too willing to let her go.
‘Do the staff know you won’t be in for dinner?’ she asked automatically. Then, remembering, she flushed and apologised stiffly. ‘I’m sorry, Stein. I forgot it’s none of my business any more.’
‘I told Mrs Swinden, this morning,’ he replied shortly, ‘I also informed her that you’d made a mistake and I wanted to retain her services.’
The deliberate way he came out with this caused Helen to sway beneath another wave of humiliation.
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Unhappily she bowed her head. Mrs Swinden would be triumphant, but did it matter? What did anything matter now? Something slid down Helen’s cheek to her mouth and her tongue, in unconscious reaction, slipped out to catch it. She was stupidly surprised to realise it tasted salty and was a tear. Suddenly terrified that Stein might discover she was crying, she lowered her head still farther.
‘I don’t think I want any dinner,’ she gulped.
‘You’d be lucky to be offered anything,’ he said curtly, and left her swiftly, without another glance.
Chains of Regret Page 9