I put away the breakfast dishes and called Angela, who worked at the One Turtle Foundation.
‘Oh, Mrs. Maxwell. I’m so sorry for your loss. I was at the church service, but I did not come forward because I didn’t want to intrude.’
‘Thank you, Angela. That was very kind of you.’
‘Mr. Maxwell was very generous to Steve and me in the will. I did not expect it. He was such a kind man. I miss him.’
‘Yes, he was,’ I said, a lump forming in my throat. For the first time, I was speaking to someone who loved Robert in the same uncomplicated way I did.
‘Are you coming in to see us? Please say that you are.’
‘Yes, I was thinking of dropping in this morning. Maybe we can do lunch?’
‘That will be fantastic. It’s been so long since we talked,’ she said happily.
I met Angela for lunch at a small Chinese restaurant on Baker Street. We talked about Robert, her new baby, and the charity. Then she came up with a very good suggestion.
‘Why don’t you take a trip to one of the islands? It will do you good to get away. Recharge yourself and then you can throw yourself back into work.’
I smiled at her. ‘Yes, I am missing my bikini a little bit.’
She grinned. ‘Go on. I love you with a tan.’
‘You know what, Angela? That’s actually a brilliant idea. I will go to one of the islands. I think it will make me feel closer to Robert.’
‘There you go,’ she said expertly picking up a piece of lobster between her chopsticks.
Filled with excitement about the prospect of leaving all my troubles behind and going away, I went shopping for a bikini and some light clothes. I also bought a suitcase. By the time I got back it was nearly six in the evening. A mousy woman with dark eyes came out of the kitchen. She was wearing overalls and holding a feather duster in her hand.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs. Maxwell. The master told me you stay here with him. My name is Helena. I am cleaning flat for him.’
I smiled at her. ‘Hello, Helena.’ I looked around the super-clean place. ‘I see you have been busy. The place smells wonderful.’
She held up three knobby fingers. ‘Three times a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday I come here. I am finished now, but if you have any clothes you want me to wash with hand, no problem. I take home. Just tell me what you want. Anything is no problem for me.’
‘No, I have nothing for you to do, but thank you for offering. It is very kind of you.’
‘You give me clothes next time, OK?’
‘OK,’ I agreed.
She smiled sweetly. ‘You want I make tea or coffee for you?’
‘No, it’s OK. Don’t worry. You go ahead and get home. It’s getting late. We’ll have a coffee together next time.’
She smiled broadly. ‘I come again on Friday.’
‘Great. I’ll see you then.’
After she left I realized I was very tired. That drug episode must have drained me far more than I had imagined. I ordered myself a pepperoni pizza delivery and ate it in front of the TV. Weird thing was, I kept listening for Ivan’s key in the door, but there was no sign of him even when I went to bed about eleven.
My last thought was: He’s probably with that snooty Chloe, and the thought didn’t sit well at all.
CHAPTER 16
Tawny Maxwell
I woke up with the chickens and went out for a run in the dark. It was a good decision. Finally, I felt as if my body had completely recovered from being laid up. I felt strong again, and it smelt like it was going to be a sweet day. In my experience those mornings always turned out best.
As I was coming into the foyer of the building, I bumped into Ralph. His boyishly handsome face creased into a genuine smile.
‘Hey stranger,’ he said.
‘Hey yourself,’ I panted and, putting my hands on my knees, caught my breath before I straightened again and tried to talk. ‘Listen, Ralph. I’m really sorry about the last time. It was my fault. I should have checked with Ivan first before I invited anyone around into his place.’
He grinned. ‘Make up for it by having breakfast with me.’
I jerked my head back. ‘What, now?’
‘Sure.’
‘I’m all sweaty and smelly.’
‘Don’t you know? Guys love sweaty smelly girls,’ he teased.
I laughed.
‘How about I meet you back here in twenty minutes?’ he suggested.
I hesitated and thought of Ivan’s reaction.
‘It’s just to that little café across the road. They do the most amazing blueberry muffins I’ve ever eaten.’
I turned and looked to where he was pointing. It was practically across the road, and it looked warm and cheerful inside with yellow lights, wooden tables and chairs, a long counter full of all kinds of baked goods, and waitresses in white shirts and short black skirts.
I bit my lip considering his offer. Well, I had nothing better to do. Why shouldn’t I go? After all, Ivan spent his night with Chloe.
I smiled. ‘OK, see you here in twenty.’
‘I’ll be waiting right here.’ He grinned broadly, so obviously and sincerely pleased that I instinctively warmed towards him.
I waved and jogged up the two flights of stairs. I let myself into the apartment as quietly as possible, almost tip-toeing into my room. I showered, moisturized my face, dried my hair, and got into my new purchases; jeans, blue and white sweater, and cowboy boots. Then I slicked on some lipstick and opened my door.
All was silent and there was no movement at all inside the dragon’s den. It did feel as if I was sneaking around, but honestly, Ivan was like a bear with a sore head first thing in the morning, and I didn’t relish telling him I was having breakfast with Ralph. I scribbled a note and left it propped up on the kitchen island.
Ralph was seated on the long cream sofa in the lobby. He looked like he was playing a game on his phone. When he saw me coming, he stood up with a smile.
‘How do you manage to look so good so early in the morning?’ he asked.
I smiled at him. ‘Tell me your secret and I’ll tell you mine.’
He laughed. ‘Keep that up and lunch and dinner are on me.’
‘So what’s the story with the frosty bugger?’ he asked with a sideways glance.
‘Every dog should have a few fleas,’ I said firmly.
He looked at me quizzically. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Nobody’s perfect. He’s frosty and cocky, but his heart’s in the right place.’ I smiled. ‘He rescued me.’
‘Right,’ he said, and held the door open for me.
As we walked across the road towards the café, he had his hand solicitously and lightly placed on the small of my back, but as soon as we were on the other side he dropped his arm. I was impressed. It was exactly the kind of Southern courtesy my mother had taught me to expect from a man.
He moved ahead of me, opened the door, and held it open for me. Hmmm … more brownie points. We sat at a table by the window and ordered blueberry muffins and coffee. I had a cappuccino and he had a tall latte.
The muffins arrived and they were a hair’s breath away from being as good as my grandma made them, he was easy to talk to, and he kept the topics light. I was feeling totally relaxed and happy when Ivan suddenly loomed next to us.
He didn’t look at me. He put his hands on the table and stared aggressively into Ralph’s face. ‘You’re obviously a thick bastard. Here, let me make it clearer for you. She’s out of bounds. Now fuck off.’
Ralph was cool in that stiff British way. He leaned back and said, ‘You don’t own her, Greystoke. And last time I looked you’re not my father, or my boss, so you don’t get to tell me what to do.’
‘Well, I’ve got news for you, shithead. She’s my ward. So you don’t get to date her unless I fucking say so.’
At that point I shot up. I was furious. ‘No, Ivan. You don’t get to say who I date. I’m only your ward as far as managing m
y inheritance. Nothing more.’
He turned to me, his eyes glittering savagely. ‘If you just hang on for one minute I’ll deal with you.’ Then he turned his attention back to Ralph. ‘If I see you with her again, I’ll punch your lights out. You’ve been warned.’
To my utter humiliation, Ivan then grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the restaurant with him. Everybody was looking at us in amazement. I was so embarrassed my face was flaming. Never in my wildest nightmare had I dreamed I’d be in a situation where two men were squaring up over me in a café full of ogling customers. Once outside, I let him pull me along until we were past the glass fronted shop window before I jerked hard at his hand.
‘Let go of me, you brute,’ I yelled. I was desperate to kick his stupid, sexy legs.
He stopped and turned towards me, his jaw tight.
‘How dare you embarrass me like that?’ I demanded furiously.
‘Awww … my heart is bleeding.’
‘What is the matter with you?’ I exploded.
‘What is the matter with you?’ he countered.
‘I was having breakfast with Ralph. He’s a friend. It was an innocent thing until you came barging into that café to harass us. I am so humiliated I will never be able to go back there again. For your information Ralph is a perfect gentleman. Unlike you. He never tried it on once with me. And here’s something else for you to think about, you big tree. I really don’t appreciate you thinking that you can run my life or pick my boyfriends for me. I’m old enough to pick my own, thank you very much. Now, let go of my hand before I cream your corn,’ I roared.
‘I’ll let go when you stop behaving like you’ve been given cornbread for brains.’
My jaw hung loose. People were passing us on the pavement and giving us a wide berth. ‘If you must know I happen to love cornbread, so when you get a chance to get off Twitter, you … you troll you, you might want to come up with a more inventive insult,’ I yelled in frustration.
He let go of my arm.
I rubbed it. ‘What have I done that is so bad, anyway? I had breakfast with a neighbor,’ I demanded.
‘I think it’s a phenomenon called karma. You know, what goes around comes around. Since you’re now worth over a hundred million, you’ve become the target for every fortune hunter in the country.’
I shook my head in disbelief. ‘Wow! I can’t believe I’m hearing this. So you assumed that Ralph is a fortune hunter? Just like that. No evidence?’
‘No,’ he stated clearly. ‘I didn’t just assume. I know he is. He’s a city boy who hasn’t made any money for more than a year. He’s had to take a third mortgage out on his flat, and his credit cards are all maxed out. He hasn’t a bean to his name.’
The first sensation was one of hurt. The knowledge that the lovely, ordinary life I had dreamed about was never going to be mine. From now on I was always going to have to examine the motives of everyone who came into contact with me. You can either have good friends or you can have money. I covered the wound with indignant anger.
‘You had him investigated? How dare you poke your nose into other people’s business like that? So what if he’s poor. It doesn’t make him a bad person.’
‘I didn’t have him investigated. Just ran a credit check. Anyway, I don’t know what you’re so mad about. It’s what you should have done before you agreed to go for a cozy muffin breakfast with him.’
The suspicion that I had been bottling up bubbled over. ‘Maybe I should have you investigated.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
His voice was suddenly deadly quiet, but I had got this far and I wasn’t backing down. ‘Maybe I should have you investigated. Find out why you’re going to all this trouble for me when you don’t even like me.’
He crossed his arms. ‘I told you why I’m doing it.’
‘The deathbed promise to Robert to take care of me? Or maybe … you’re so eager to marry me for my money. It is a lot, isn’t it?’
His eyes widened comically. Then he laughed, a sarcastic, arrogant laugh. ‘That’s rich. Really rich. You are accusing me of being a gold digger?’
I shrugged. ‘Why not? You’re making love to Chloe while asking me to marry you.’
He looked at me strangely. ‘I don’t make love to Chloe. We have sex. I fill up all her orifices and ejaculate in them. Her pussy, her mouth, her ass.’
My mouth dropped open at the last orifice he mentioned.
He smiled wickedly. ‘Why, Tawny honey,’ he said in an irritating parody of a Southern accent. ‘I didn’t know you were into ass play. All you had to do was ask.’
‘I am not, and if I was you’d be the last man I’d ask,’ I gritted furiously.
He threw a fake grin. ‘Shame. It might have been real fun filling up your cornbread eating ass.’
‘Trust you to be as disgusting as possible. However, I noticed you didn’t deny wanting to marry me for my money.’
‘That’s what our pre-nup is for, darlin’. I don’t take yours and you don’t take mine.’
‘Yes, but I bet being married to me would mean you could live better and bigger, wouldn’t it?’
His expression changed. He paused as if debating whether to tell me something. It was hard for me to know what was going through his head. Finally, he said, ‘Come on. I want to show you something.’
‘Forget it. I’m not going anywhere with you,’ I said stubbornly.
‘It might clear up the misunderstanding you have about me and my … er … intentions towards you.’
I hesitated.
He turned and began to walk away. For a few seconds I hesitated, then he turned around and cocked an eyebrow, and I knew I was going to follow him. How could I pass up such an intriguing offer to know my husband to be?
‘This better be good,’ I mumbled, taking a step towards him.
‘It is,’ he said, and smiled as I drew up alongside him.
He took me around the block to where his car was parked. Oh. My. God. Of course, he would have to be one of those guys who spent all their money on a car. It was a mean looking black Lamborghini with red leather seats. The car doors lifted up.
‘They say men who buy these kinds of cars are compensating for a lack of size or performance elsewhere,’ I said airily.
‘Have you ever noticed how haters are never as successful, as clever, or as good looking as the people they’re hating?’ he asked, and slipped into the car.
I got in, the wings came down, and he turned the ignition on.
‘Where’re we going?’ I shouted over the fantastic roar.
‘Buckinghamshire,’ he said shortly.
For crying out loud! ‘Why are we going there?’
‘Let’s just call it a surprise,’ he said casually and switched on the stereo. He pressed a few buttons and Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire came on. ‘It’s a long ride. Lie back and enjoy the music.’
I crossed my arms huffily. Fine by me. If he imagined he was insulting me by playing country music, he could think again. I loved country music and I was proud of where I came from. Besides it would mean he would quit his belly achin’.
We drove without exchanging a single word for almost an hour. Eventually he turned off the motorway and drove down a dual carriageway for another ten minutes before we got on to quieter country lanes.
A brown road sign indicated that Chiltern House was nearby. I had heard of it. It was meant to be very beautiful. I saw a picture of it in a magazine once at the dentist’s office.
To my surprise he turned into the road that lead to Chiltern House.
‘Are we going to Chiltern House?’
‘Yup.’
I turned in my seat to face him curiously. ‘Why are we going there?’
He glanced at me briefly before turning his eyes back to the road because we had reached a gated entry manned by a man in a uniform.
The man smiled and respectfully called, ‘Morning m’Lord.’
Then the gates swu
ng open.
CHAPTER 17
Tawny Maxwell
He nodded and we drove through with my brain racing in overdrive. The road climbed a hill. On either side was beautiful rolling countryside. My gaze was drawn to a herd of deer resting under a massive, old oak tree. The car came to a halt at the crest of the hill and from our vantage point, Foxgrove Hall sprawled out in the stately grandeur of a time past. I took a deep breath. Well, knock me down and steal my teeth!
‘All this belongs to you, doesn’t it?’ I breathed.
His response was a shrug.
Well, shut my mouth. There I was thinking he wanted me for my money and the man had enough to burn a wet mule. No wonder he was drinking a bottle of champagne worth thousands of pounds for no good reason. Now I understood why Robert had entrusted my entire inheritance to him.
I felt a great sense of relief: he didn’t want to marry me for my money. He genuinely wanted to help me. I gazed in wonder at the splendid building. I had never seen anything so grand in my life. It was at least five times larger than Barrington Manor.
‘How big is this place?’
‘It’s set on seven hundred and fifty acres.’
I whistled.
‘You’re wishing you hadn’t insisted on that pre-nup now, aren’t you?’ he teased with an irrepressible grin.
‘No,’ I said slowly, ‘but I am very embarrassed. Turns out you’re waaaaay richer than me. Why didn’t you correct me?’
‘I’m correcting you now,’ he murmured.
‘You live in London. So who lives here?’
He started the car. ‘Me sometimes.’
‘Jeez! What a waste!’
‘I guess I’ll use it more when I have a wife and kids.’
I felt a strange hollow feeling in my stomach. I knew he was not referring to our pretend marriage. One day, after he divorced me, he would fall in love and marry someone for real.
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