Sinful Truths

by Anne Mather

  Emily frowned. ‘All right,’ she said slowly, but her mother doubted she’d heard the last about any of this. ‘If you’re sure you’re okay?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Isobel told her tightly. ‘Close the door on your way out.’

  By the time Isobel had had her shower and dressed again, this time in a sage-green skirt and vest over a lemon shirt, her mother was awake and querulous.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me Jake was here last night?’ she demanded when Isobel carried in her breakfast tray, revealing that once again Emily hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut. ‘I would have liked to see him.’

  Isobel set the tray on the end of the bed and helped the old lady up against her pillows. Then, settling the tray across her lap, she said, ‘He didn’t stay long.’

  ‘Is that supposed to be an excuse?’ exclaimed Lady Hannah, flicking a disparaging finger at her egg. ‘And this is too soft. How many times do I have to tell you? I prefer the yolk to be slightly firmer than soft.’

  Isobel’s lips compressed. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

  ‘Do.’ Her mother regarded her suspiciously. ‘Are you humouring me?’

  Isobel grimaced. ‘A little, perhaps.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Lady Hannah picked up her orange juice and took a sip. ‘So what did he want?’

  Isobel was tempted to say Who? But she knew that would only infuriate her mother still more. So she tried to be as honest as she could. ‘I think he came to—to assure himself that we’re managing okay,’ she replied evenly. ‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her mother gave her a studied look. ‘You can tell me why you’ve got all that make-up on your face. Is it to impress your husband?’

  As if!

  Isobel swallowed. She should have known her mother would notice that she’d lathered a load of foundation over her skin. Feigning ignorance, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘I have overdone it a little, haven’t I?’

  ‘Just a little,’ agreed Lady Hannah drily. Then, returning to her original theme, she added, ‘Don’t tell me it was your idea that your husband stayed at the Black Bull last night?’ She snorted. ‘I can just imagine what Tom Cooper must think about that.’

  But not what he’d think about her daughter paying Jake an early-morning visit, thought Isobel with some relief. Well, not unless that particular piece of gossip found its way to Mattingley. She dreaded to think what her mother would think of that insanity.

  ‘I—it was his idea,’ she said now, stretching the truth. Then, because she had to ask, ‘Why did you want to see him?’

  ‘That’s my business,’ retorted the old lady tartly. ‘If he comes back this morning, send him up here.’

  It was the last thing Isobel wanted to do. But the command had a deeper significance. ‘Aren’t you getting up?’ she asked, frowning, and Lady Hannah gave an impatient wave of her hand.

  ‘Not this morning,’ she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee with a hand that Isobel saw with some dismay wasn’t quite steady. ‘I’ll get up later.’

  ‘But you’re all right, aren’t you?’ Isobel persisted, unwilling to leave it at that, and the old lady sighed.

  ‘As all right as anyone in my position can be,’ she replied crisply. ‘Stop fussing, Isobel. I’m not dying yet.’

  Despite her conviction that they had seen the last of Jake for the time being, Isobel spent the morning in a state of nervous tension. It didn’t help that Emily skipped to the window every time she thought she heard a car, or that the decorators had chosen that morning to sand the dining room floor. The buzz of the sander and the sound of the men’s heels clumping across the floor was a constant clamour, and by mid-morning her head was throbbing.

  And just when she’d thought things couldn’t get any worse Piers Mallory arrived. He stepped through the open door into the hall, his arms filled with an enormous bouquet of flowers.

  Isobel had been upstairs, checking on her mother, and she was halfway down again when he appeared. Her blood boiled at the arrogant way he entered the house. All right, the doors were open to allow the workmen easy access, but he had no right to take advantage of it. Indeed, after what she’d told him the day before, she was amazed that he’d dared to come back.

  He hadn’t seen her yet, and she resented the way he glanced about him, as if assessing what had already been done and what was needed. Didn’t he understand plain English? She didn’t want him here.

  She was in no mood to be tolerant. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded, running down the final few stairs. ‘Get out of here. Right now.’

  Piers made no move to obey her. ‘Good morning, Isobel,’ he said, just as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘How’s your mother today?’

  ‘Don’t pretend you care about my mother,’ she exclaimed harshly. Then, half afraid the old lady might hear them, she grabbed his arm and attempted to hustle him towards the door. ‘I want you to go.’

  It was a useless exercise. Piers just dug in his heels and remained where he was. And, to her horror, he was taking advantage of her efforts to look down her cleavage.

  ‘I’ll call for help,’ she threatened, stepping back from him, wondering if the decorators would come to her aid. But Piers only laughed.

  ‘Oh, Issie,’ he said, making her cringe with his name for her, ‘what am I doing? Attacking you with flowers?’

  Isobel clenched her fists. ‘You have no right to come here. You’re not welcome.’

  Piers’s lips tightened. ‘So you say.’ He paused. ‘In any case, I didn’t come to see you. I came to see Lady Hannah. Where is she?’

  ‘That’s none of your business,’ Isobel retorted, steeling herself against the urge to glance up the stairs towards her mother’s room. ‘Will you go?’

  ‘Not until I’ve given these to your mother,’ declared Piers inflexibly, indicating the flowers. ‘Surely you wouldn’t deprive her of such a generous gift?’

  Isobel’s jaw compressed. ‘I’ll give them to her,’ she said, snatching the bouquet out of his arms. ‘Now, will you get out of here?’

  Piers still made no move to go. ‘You’re not very polite, Issie,’ he said, his eyes making an insolent appraisal of her body. ‘And I think you’ve put on some weight, if I’m not mistaken. You’ll have to watch that. You’re not getting any younger, you know.’

  Isobel wanted to scream. What did she have to do to get rid of him? she wondered. The man was completely impervious to her demands. Had he no shame?

  And then she heard Emily’s feet coming down the stairs. The little girl was running and Isobel had no chance of stopping her before she burst out excitedly, ‘Was that Daddy’s car?’ Then she saw Piers and her expression changed. ‘Oh, it’s only you.’

  ‘Only me,’ agreed Piers pleasantly, and Isobel was amazed that he could sound so amiable in the face of such obvious disappointment. ‘Hello, Emily.’

  ‘’lo.’ Emily gave him a brief smile and then sidled up to her mother. ‘I thought it was Daddy.’

  Piers’s brows rose. ‘Your daddy’s here?’ he asked in surprise. ‘I thought I must have been mistaken before.’ His tongue circled his thick lips. ‘Do I scent a reconciliation?’

  ‘You don’t scent anything,’ retorted Isobel coldly. ‘But Jake will be here at any moment. I think you should leave.’

  ‘Oh, I think not.’ Piers didn’t seem at all concerned that the other man might turn up at any time. ‘If McCabe was in the district, I’m sure I would have heard about it.’

  Emily frowned. ‘Did you come here to see Daddy?’ she asked innocently, and Isobel felt the incipient threat of hysteria rising in her throat.

  ‘No, to see your granny,’ declared Piers, seeing the opportunity and taking it. ‘Is she up?’

  ‘Piers—’

  But Emily’s voice overrode Isobel’s final appeal. ‘No. She’s spending the morning in bed,’ she replied gravely. ‘Would you like to go up a
nd see her?’

  ‘Emily!’

  ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ Piers affirmed smugly. He gestured her ahead of him. ‘Will you lead the way?’

  Emily looked a little uncertain now. ‘Are you coming, Mummy?’ she asked hopefully, and then seemed to notice the flowers in Isobel’s arms. ‘Oh, aren’t they lovely?’ She looked at Piers again with more enthusiasm. ‘Did you bring them?’

  ‘I did.’ Piers smiled. ‘Shall we leave your mother to put them in water?’

  ‘Mummy?’

  Emily was anxious, Isobel knew, but she found herself unable to speak. Shaking her head, she turned away, and not without some misgivings, she was sure, her daughter led their visitor upstairs.

  There was a strange car parked alongside the vans belonging to the tradesmen when Jake arrived at Mattingley later that morning, but he wasn’t concerned. It was probably the doctor, he surmised. He’d advised Isobel to contact the local GP and acquaint him with the circumstances of her mother’s condition. He just hoped the old lady wasn’t suffering a relapse. He couldn’t help thinking she’d have been better off back in town.

  And yet he could understand her love of this area. Wasn’t he already speculating on the possibilities of working here in future and only going into the office when it was absolutely necessary? One of the advantages of his profession was that he could work virtually anywhere, so long as he had a computer, and as he seldom went anywhere without his laptop there was no problem.

  Of course, he thought, as he went up the steps to the front door, the laptop would only be a temporary measure. He’d ask Isobel to allocate him one of the unused guest rooms and he’d set up a bank of equipment in there. It was time he gave Shane more responsibility. Time he started enjoying more of the success that had cost him so dearly.

  The doors were open and somewhere he could hear the sound of an electric drill. The smell of paint was more pervasive this morning and he guessed Andy’s contractors were hard at work. It pleased him that the house was beginning to feel more and more as it used to. More and more like a home…

  He had barely stepped inside when Isobel appeared. He noticed she had changed into a skirt and blouse and her hair was now confined in its usual knot at her nape. It pleased him that only a couple of hours earlier it had been spread across his pillows, and his mouth took on a frankly sensual curve.

  He was picturing her as he’d seen her last, and he wondered if that was why she suddenly looked so apprehensive. Was she remembering it, too? Had she any idea how desirable she looked with that guilty flush staining her cheeks and her tongue peeping sensuously between her lips? Somehow he doubted it.

  Dear God, he was getting hard again. Indeed, ever since he’d come out of the shower he’d been in a semi-aroused state, and he wondered if there was any chance of him spiriting her away from here for a while, so that they could be alone.

  But before he could say anything Isobel forestalled him. ‘Did you forget something?’ she asked, her clipped tone immediately dousing his excitement. ‘If you’ve brought the money back—’

  ‘I haven’t.’ Jake took a couple of steps towards her and then halted as she withdrew the same number of paces. He sighed. ‘I think we need to talk.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ She was absurdly emphatic. ‘I don’t think we have anything to say to one another. You want a divorce? Fine. Just get your solicitor to contact mine. I don’t believe there’s any reason why we should meet again.’

  Jake was stunned. ‘You don’t understand—’ he began, but she wouldn’t let him go on.

  ‘Oh, I think I do,’ she said harshly. ‘This morning was your attempt to show me what I’d lost and you succeeded.’

  ‘No—’

  ‘Whatever.’ She waved a careless hand. ‘It should never have happened, and wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been stupid enough to trust you. I thought you’d understand how I felt about the money, not expect me to pay in kind. Well, you’ve had your pound of flesh but, guess what? It was a freebie! I don’t want anything from you but your assurance that you won’t penalise Emily or my mother for my frailties.’

  Jake stared at her incredulously. ‘Is that what you really think?’ he demanded. ‘That what happened was some pathetic attempt on my part to exact revenge?’

  ‘Well, wasn’t it?’

  ‘No, dammit, it wasn’t.’

  ‘But you know it should never have happened?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Why not?’ He saw the convulsive swallow that rippled down her throat. ‘You know why not. Or are you as indifferent to Ms Duncan’s feelings as you were to mine?’

  Jake swore. ‘Marcie doesn’t come into this.’

  ‘Doesn’t she?’ Isobel looked scornful now. ‘I thought you were going to marry her.’

  Well, I’m not.

  The words trembled on his tongue, but before he could bring himself to say them he heard a sound at the top of the stairs. A man was coming out of the room he knew belonged to Isobel’s mother and his jaw compressed impatiently. The doctor, he thought, resenting the interruption. And, judging by the sound of raised voices, Lady Hannah had been as pleased to see him as he was. He couldn’t make out what she was saying but Emily, who came running down the stairs ahead of the man, was upset, and that irritated him no end.

  ‘Mummy, Mummy,’ she was crying tearfully. Then she saw Jake. At once her eyes widened and her fingers came to knuckle the tears from her cheeks. And, to his astonishment, instead of running to her mother, she rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against his sweater.

  ‘Hey, hey.’ Jake didn’t want to feel such an instinctive empathy with her, but it seemed to well up from deep inside him and he couldn’t deny it. ‘Emily; Em! What’s the matter? What did the doctor say?’

  ‘The doctor?’ Emily tipped her head back and looked up at him with puzzled eyes. ‘What doctor?’

  ‘I assume you mean me,’ remarked the drawling tones of the man Jake had hoped never to have to see again. ‘Hello, McCabe. Long time, no see.’

  Jake’s fingers briefly tightened on Emily’s shoulders. But then, with careful deliberation, he put her away from him.

  ‘Mallory,’ he said coldly. ‘Still making women cry, I see.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that.’ Piers was remarkably cool, considering the last time they’d met Jake had almost beaten him to a pulp. He looked from Jake to Isobel and back again. ‘I’d say it’s a toss-up which of us your wife least wants to see.’

  Jake was tempted to tell him he was wrong. He doubted Piers would be standing there with such a smug look on his face if he knew that only a couple of hours ago Jake and Isobel had been locked in a hot and sweaty embrace in Jake’s hotel room. He’d have loved to describe exactly what they’d been doing in great detail, how very pleasurable and satisfying it had been. But he couldn’t do it.

  Apart from anything else, he couldn’t expose such intimacies in front of the child. Besides, after what Isobel had just been saying, his own interpretation of events had suffered a severe setback. He’d really believed she’d wanted him, that what they’d shared had been a spiritual as well as a physical experience. Surely they’d shared their souls, not just their bodies?

  But now he didn’t know what to think. Piers was here, for the second time in two days, if Emily was to be believed, and he had no reason to doubt her. Isobel’s behaviour took on a whole new aspect in light of that revelation.

  Isobel apparently had no such reservations. ‘I think you should leave,’ she said. ‘Both of you. I don’t want you here.’

  ‘Belle!’

  Jake couldn’t prevent the involuntary protest, and Emily tugged at her mother’s sleeve with protesting fingers. But Isobel was adamant.

  ‘Must I remind you that there’s a sick woman upstairs? I don’t know what you’ve been saying to her—’ this to Piers ‘—but it’s obvious you’ve upset her and I want you to go.’

  ‘Oh, Issie…’ Piers had alw
ays irritated Jake with his pet name for her and it wasn’t any different now. ‘You know you don’t mean that.’

  ‘I do.’ As Jake watched with disbelieving eyes, she gestured towards the door. ‘I told you yesterday that you weren’t welcome here. Now, must I get one of the workmen to throw you out?’

  ‘Why do I know you’d never do that?’ Piers mocked gently. ‘Issie, we both know how your mother would feel if you embarrassed her like that.’

  ‘Let me do it.’ The words were out before Jake could prevent them. He’d never seen Piers in this light before, and the knowledge disturbed him. His eyes narrowed on the man he had once thought was his friend. ‘You’ve no idea how much pleasure it would give me.’

  ‘The only pleasure you’re likely to get from this relationship, eh, McCabe?’ taunted Piers, unaware of the thin line he was walking. He turned back to Isobel. ‘As far as what I’ve been saying to your mother, Issie, perhaps you ought to ask her that question. I doubt you’ll get an answer, though. You never did before.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  Isobel was confused and Jake stepped forward. ‘Don’t you see what he’s doing, Belle?’ he demanded harshly. ‘He’s trying to drive a rift between you and your mother, just as he drove a rift between us. I didn’t believe it before, but now—’

  ‘Oh, but that was a much more pleasurable rift,’ mocked Piers, clearly wanting to provoke him. ‘Did I ever tell you how eager she was? How hot and sexy? She couldn’t wait to get into my bed. She was itching for it—’

  ‘That’s not true!’

  Jake’s fist was arrested by a frail aristocratic voice and, turning, he saw Lady Hannah clinging to the banister halfway down the stairs.

  ‘Don’t touch him, Jake,’ she implored. ‘Don’t give him any reason to do any more damage to this family than he has already done.’

  ‘Mama?’ It was Isobel who spoke, before rushing up the stairs to grasp her mother’s arm. ‘Mama, you shouldn’t be out of bed!’

  ‘Chickens coming home to roost, eh, Lady Hannah?’ Piers jeered, and Jake couldn’t prevent his hand from shooting out and fastening on the collar of Mallory’s jacket.