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The Jilted Bridegroom

Page 11

by Carole Mortimer


  The younger of the two men stood up, tall and blond, with a slightly world-weary expression; it was an expression, Sarah had been glad to see, that had been fading from Griff over the last few days, although a little of that hardened veneer was back in the company of these two men.

  ‘Paul Grant,’ the blond man introduced himself, thrusting out his hand. ‘And this is my photographer, Jim Long.’ He slapped the older grey-haired man on the back good-naturedly.

  Jim stood up too, smiling ruefully at Sarah’s faintly apprehensive expression. ‘No, I’m not the one with the camera skulking about in a car last night,’ he assured her drily.

  He might not be, but he was basically here for the same reason, and Sarah’s greeting was strained with both men.

  She looked down pointedly to the empty mugs in front of them. ‘You’re obviously accustomed to the “Morgan coffee”,’ she said wryly.

  ‘Are we ever,’ Jim said appreciatively.

  ‘I’ll make you a weaker cup, love,’ Griff offered, moving slightly away from the group.

  ‘Have you and Griff known each other long?’ Paul prompted, eyes narrowed shrewdly.

  She shrugged. ‘Why don’t you ask him that?’ She wasn’t going to be drawn that easily! ‘Excuse me,’ she gave them both an over-bright smile, ‘I have to go and feed the cat.’ She hadn’t actually taken on the job of feeding Jasper before, but she didn’t particularly want to answer twenty questions while Griff was otherwise occupied either!

  Griff gave her a conspiratorial wink as she stood near him, getting the cat food out of the cupboard. ‘Trust me,’ he murmured for her ears alone. ‘I’ll deal with these two, and then, hopefully, we won’t be bothered again.’

  Sarah wished she could be as sure of that!

  She caught vague snatches of the conversation as she stood out in the courtyard feeding the cat; ‘Lovely girl’, and ‘don’t blame you’; the name Sandra was mentioned, and the word ‘wedding’, and so Sarah could only assume the conversation was mainly about Griff’s public break-up with Sandra Preston. Obviously the other two men would know Sandra as she was the daughter of a newspaper owner, and, from the little Sarah could hear, they were sympathising with Griff over the fact that this lovely girl had walked out on him. Where that left Sarah in their eyes she hated to guess.

  ‘Jim and Paul are leaving now.’ Griff stood at the kitchen doorway to tell her. ‘And your coffee is getting cold.’

  She went back inside reluctantly, making her farewells to the two men politely enough, all the time aware that they were probably comparing her to the beautiful Sandra—and finding Sarah wanting!

  When Jim paused before going off in the car to take a photograph of her and Griff together she gave an indignant gasp.

  ‘Leave it,’ Griff advised, turning away. ‘Hopefully it will be the last.’

  She looked at him wordlessly, relaxing slightly as he moved to take her into his arms, his face buried in the silky blonde thickness of her hair, completely dry now from her time spent outside feeding the cat.

  ‘It was the best way, love,’ he told her ruefully. ‘They have their story now, and their photograph, and they’ll go away happy and not bother us any more.’

  ‘With more to follow, I don’t doubt.’ She shook her head disgustedly at having her privacy invaded in this way.

  ‘Possibly.’ Griff moved back, holding her at arm’s length. ‘But I know how to deal with them, Sarah,’ he insisted.

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ she accepted wearily, raising a hand to the side of her face. ‘But all we need is for one of the Forbes family to speak to one of the reporters and it will be all over the newspapers that you’re staying in the south of France with a thief!’ She shuddered at the thought of it.

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Griff snapped. ‘We know that isn’t true.’

  ‘But the great general public don’t.’ Her voice rose slightly.

  ‘I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks,’ he dismissed exasperatedly.

  ‘I do,’ Sarah flared. ‘You’ve had a bad enough time this last week without this!’

  His expression softened as he realised her concern was only for him. ‘I don’t care about any of that,’ he told her gently. ‘I only care about you.’

  ‘Me?’ She looked startled. ‘But—’ She broke off as a knock sounded on the door. ‘More reporters, I expect,’ she said disgustedly, turning away.

  Griff gave a frustrated sigh before going to answer the door.

  As Sarah turned away she saw, for the first time, the newspaper that lay on the breakfast bar where the two men had been sitting when she’d joined them earlier. She moved towards it slowly now, sure of what she was going to see before she even did so, guessing that the two men had brought the newspaper over from England with them this morning.

  The headline was more or less what she had expected it to be, so there were no points for originality as far as she was concerned! ‘There you are, Griff’ stood out at the top of the newspaper in three-inch-high black letters.

  But the photograph that accompanied the headline had to be the coup de grâce—whatever lens and lighting the photographer had had on his camera it had been good, damned good, she and Griff, as they kissed, perfectly visible, completely recognisable.

  It was awful!

  And it was only the beginning. Admittedly this was one of the more lurid tabloids, the newspaper the two who had just left worked for being slightly more respectable, but, even so, she had a feeling the media as a whole were going to make a meal out of Griff’s being here with her.

  ‘A visitor for you, Sarah,’ Griff remarked drily from behind her.

  She turned with a frown, her eyes widening as she saw Ben standing slightly apart from Griff, the latter having a slightly derisive expression on his face.

  Sarah quickly folded the newspaper she still held in half, picture hidden inside, and pushed it to the far end of the breakfast bar.

  ‘Ben,’ she greeted half questioningly. ‘What a surprise.’

  He shot an awkward glance at Griff, his hands thrust into the pockets of his denims. ‘I thought I would come over and see how you are,’ he muttered, giving the other man a resentful glare.

  ‘Well, as you can see,’ Griff moved to lean against one of the kitchen units, ‘she’s fine.’

  ‘As I can see…’ Ben mumbled. ‘I just—’ He broke off as the telephone began to ring in the lounge.

  Griff straightened, frowning. ‘Damn thing’s been ringing all morning,’ he muttered before striding off to answer the call.

  Ben visibly relaxed once they were alone, smiling encouragingly at Sarah. ‘How are you really?’

  ‘I’m really fine,’ she lightly mocked. ‘How is the search for the bracelet going?’ She sobered.

  He shrugged. ‘It hasn’t turned up yet.’

  That didn’t really come as any surprise to Sarah, not after what Griff had said about it, but that didn’t stop her feeling disappointed none the less.

  ‘But it will,’ Ben added confidently. ‘Why don’t you come back and stay at the villa with us and we could look for the bracelet together? We’re sure to find it.’

  Sarah looked at him sharply, his tone sounding a little too confident. How could he possibly be so sure—? My God, it couldn’t have been Ben who’d taken the bracelet, after all?

  She frowned at him in growing disbelief. He couldn’t have taken the bracelet—what possible reason could he have for doing something like that to her?

  Unbidden, a memory of the malevolent resentment on Ben’s face the day he had escorted his mother out for the evening, because he was absolutely furious over the time she had spent with Griff that afternoon, came to mind.

  The bracelet had gone missing from Clarissa’s jewellery box after Sarah had walked out over the upset with Sally, to spend the night here with Griff, albeit innocently…

  Ben seemed to become aware of the slowly dawning horror on her face, avoiding her gaze. ‘Well, I only came over to se
e how you were,’ he excused, turning to leave.

  ‘Ben!’

  Her resolve weakened as he looked back at her, suddenly knowing, with sickening clarity, that she was right in her suspicion; Ben was at the root of this latest heartache.

  She let him leave.

  What had she ever really done to him, except find him too young for her to be attracted to?

  But she realised now that he had taken her initial friendliness as encouragement to believe she was attracted to him, that his ego must more than match his mother’s and sister’s.

  Griff was right—poor Roger; he was a lamb among savage lions!

  But Sarah knew now what she had to do.

  ‘More reporters,’ Griff muttered as he finally came back from answering the telephone call.

  ‘It must make a change, being on the receiving end,’ Sarah remarked vaguely.

  He grimaced. ‘If I hadn’t already decided to have a break from journalism myself this would have been enough to make me decide to do so! The personal questions some of them ask…!’ He shook his head. ‘No Ben?’ He suddenly realised their visitor had gone.

  ‘No. He—’ she looked away, still stunned by the discovery she had made ‘—he only came over to tell me they haven’t found the bracelet yet.’

  Griff’s mouth twisted. ‘Wanted to be the bearer of the “good news”, did he?’

  She shrugged. ‘I forgot to telephone them last night.’

  ‘Sarah,’ he sighed, ‘we both know that bracelet isn’t going to turn up until Sally is ready for it to do so.’

  She swallowed hard, chewing on her bottom lip. ‘I have a feeling you’re wrong about our culprit, Griff,’ she told him huskily.

  ‘I’m sure—’ He broke off at the steady certainty in her gaze, looking at her face searchingly. ‘Ben?’ he finally realised doubtfully. ‘What makes you think it was him?’

  She moved restlessly about the room. ‘It was something about his manner, a certainty that the bracelet would eventually turn up, especially if I returned to the villa with him. And he didn’t imply that I was the one who was going to suddenly find it, but at the same time he seemed to know the bracelet hadn’t gone permanently missing.’

  ‘He could also be like that if he knew his sister had removed it out of spite,’ Griff pointed out reasoningly.

  Sarah sighed. ‘I suppose so—I just feel that it was Ben.’

  Griff looked at the paleness of her cheeks, the pain in her eyes, her discovery all the more disillusioning because she had believed Ben to be her friend.

  ‘I believe you.’ Griff finally nodded. ‘The question is, what are we going to do about it?’

  ‘We aren’t going to do anything,’ she told him drily. ‘I’m going over there to confront him with it.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ Griff told her decisively.

  ‘No,’ she answered as firmly. ‘I have to do this alone.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just accuse him of it while he was here?’ Griff frowned.

  ‘The truth?’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘Because I think he is more likely to admit to it away from you!’

  ‘Me?’ Griff looked incredulous. ‘Why would he—? Ah,’ he nodded, understanding, ‘he thinks I’m likely to beat him to a pulp if he admits to being the one to hurt you? He’s right, of course,’ he added grimly.

  ‘Which is why I’m going over to their villa alone to sort out this situation once and for all.’ She nodded.

  ‘Now?’ he protested.

  Sarah arched blonde brows. ‘There’s no time like the present.’

  ‘But we have so much to talk about ourselves, Sarah,’ he reasoned.

  The pain and disillusionment they had both shared. But, most of all, that ridiculous announcement he had made to her mother!

  ‘There’s so much we have to say to each other,’ he pushed at her hesitation.

  ‘It will have to wait, Griff.’ She straightened decisively. ‘I need to remove the shadows from my life, one at a time, before I can even think about what we have to say to each other. And Ben and the missing bracelet are the start of them,’ she said firmly.

  ‘But you—’ He broke off with an angry sigh as the ringing of the telephone interrupted them yet again. ‘I’ll have that damned thing disconnected!’ He scowled as he strode off into the adjoining room once more.

  Sarah could hear his voice seconds later as he picked up the receiver, his tone aggressive, to say the least.

  He was right; the two of them did have to talk, but it would have to wait for a while.

  She followed him through to the dining-room, where the telephone was, intending to wait patiently while he finished the call before making her excuses and going over to the neighbouring villa.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that, Sandra,’ he was advising softly. ‘That’s how you saw our relationship,’ he answered another of the woman’s comments. ‘I always saw it as something completely different. Yes, I know…’

  Sarah didn’t listen to any more of the conversation, hurrying from the room, her cheeks blazing.

  Sandra!

  And the other woman had telephoned Griff here, just as soon as she had found out from the newspapers where he was.

  That could only mean one thing.

  Sandra wanted Griff back…

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘IT’S just a ploy, Roger,’ Clarissa dismissed indignantly. ‘To get herself out of trouble. It has to be!’

  Sarah had found the two older Forbeses inside the villa preparing lunch together when she’d arrived a short time ago, imagining that the children were down by the pool. Clarissa had been very reluctant to hear what she had to say, although Roger had insisted she be given a fair hearing.

  But even he looked slightly disbelieving at her claim that Ben had taken the bracelet, and his reason for it.

  Not that Sarah could exactly blame Roger. If it was true it meant he had a lot of straightening out to do with both his older children—Stephen, too, if the way he was growing into such a little monster was anything to go by. Sarah didn’t envy Roger his problems, but she needed to have her name cleared once and for all.

  ‘I’m not in trouble, Clarissa.’ She turned to the other woman, talking with more confidence than she actually felt—if this couple eventually decided to go to the police she could find herself in a lot of trouble indeed! ‘You see,’ she added challengingly, ‘I know I’m innocent, and I think, if the two of you are completely honest, you know I am too.’

  Roger sighed. ‘I’ve never for a moment believed in your guilt, but the—’

  ‘Roger!’ Clarissa protested exasperatedly.

  ‘—alternative is even more unpalatable,’ Roger concluded heavily.

  ‘There is no alternative,’ Clarissa told them both firmly, two bright spots of colour in her cheeks. ‘Sarah has to be the one who removed my bracelet.’

  ‘Have I?’ she prompted quietly.

  ‘Of course you have.’ The other woman was becoming very agitated in the face of Sarah’s calm confidence. ‘Even if it were true that Ben has become infatuated with you—’

  ‘I would say it was true.’ Roger nodded consideringly.

  Clarissa gave him an impatient glare. ‘Then you must have encouraged him,’ she accused Sarah. ‘You seem to have this need to make every male you come into contact with fall in love with you. Look at you now, living with a man you haven’t even known a week!’ she accused triumphantly, as if that had to prove that the other accusation was true too.

  Sarah felt as if she had known Griff for a lifetime, was a little dazed herself to realise Clarissa was right, and it was in fact, only a few days since she had first met him.

  She couldn’t help wondering if Griff and Sandra would have sorted out their differences via the telephone by the time she got back. Were they even now discussing a new wedding date? She felt an ache in her chest at the thought of it.

  ‘She is hardly living with the man, Clarissa,’ Roger dismissed. ‘We made it impossible for her
to stay here!’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I’m going to look in Ben’s bedroom,’ he told his wife firmly.

  ‘You can’t do that!’ she protested.

  He took hold of Clarissa by the shoulders, shaking her gently. ‘The other night I told you I wanted this family sorted out once and for all,’ he reminded softly. ‘And that meant especially the children. They have all grown up to be selfish little monsters, and if it turns out Ben has taken your bracelet to incriminate Sarah…! You do realise Sarah could press charges? That she will have been wrongfully accused?’ he prompted gently.

  Clarissa turned to Sarah with widely apprehensive eyes.

  And that was when Sarah knew that Clarissa half believed her claim despite her protestations to the contrary.

  This was more or less confirmed for her when the two women sat and waited for Roger in complete silence, Clarissa’s movements agitated as she kept glancing at the door, waiting for Roger’s return.

  A white-faced Roger came back from Ben’s bedroom a short time later, the gold and diamond bracelet dangling between limp fingers.

  As soon as Clarissa saw the bracelet she sprang to her feet with a choked cry, staring at the gaudy piece of jewellery as if she wished she never had to see it again.

  Sarah felt sure the other woman would never wear the bracelet again…

  ‘It was hidden under the mattress of his bed,’ Roger told them shakily. ‘Not very original,’ he choked. ‘But then, I don’t suppose he ever thought we would search his room for it.’ He shook his head dazedly.

  ‘Oh, Roger,’ Clarissa moved into his arms, ‘what are we going to do?’

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Sarah!’ Ben came in through the open french doors from the garden, his face alight with pleasure at seeing her there. ‘Have you changed your mind and come back after all? I didn’t think—’ He broke off as his father wordlessly held up the glittering bracelet, Ben realising for the first time that they were all looking at him with varying degrees of dismay.

  Strangely, Sarah knew she was the one who felt the least upset now that it was all over; after all, Ben was Clarissa’s and Roger’s son, and they would have to cope with his personality problems on a day to day basis from now on; she had just wanted her name cleared.

 

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