Just Rewards

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Just Rewards Page 3

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  Evan had sent computer photographs of the best pieces to her father in New York, and he had sent her an e-mail almost immediately, telling her how good the furniture was in his opinion. All the pieces were Georgian, he was certain of that, and he had told her he couldn’t wait to look them over when he arrived next week.

  Evan sat back, reading his latest, loving e-mail, relieved and happy that their relationship was back on an even keel. It was as if there had never been a rift between them. She was glad he no longer seemed to mind that she was marrying a Harte. In the beginning, he had disliked the idea, and he had made his unhappiness very clear.

  A light knock brought Evan’s head up from the photographs, but before she could utter a word, Ruth Snelling, her new secretary, poked her blond head around the door.

  “Do you need anything, Evan?” she asked in her breezy voice, with a bright smile. As usual, she was showing her concern for her boss, as solicitous of her as she had been from her first day of working at Harte’s.

  “I’m fine, thanks, Ruth. But perhaps you could get me a bottle of water, flat not fizzy, please?”

  “No problem. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  “Don’t go, Ruth,” Evan exclaimed. “I have something for Linnet. Do you mind dropping it off in her office?” As she spoke, Evan rose, moved slowly across the floor, picked up the manila folder, and held it out.

  Still smiling, Ruth came and took it from her. “See you in a minute,” she said as she disappeared, almost running out of the office.

  Evan smiled to herself. The young woman was extremely efficient, and nothing was too much trouble for her. Things had been running smoothly since her arrival a few weeks ago, and Evan kept asking herself how she had ever managed without Ruth. I was always slightly behind the eight ball, that was the problem, Evan thought now as she sat down in her chair and glanced at her computer to see if she had any e-mails. There were none so far this morning, which pleased her. Work had begun to pall for her lately, and all she wanted now was to be settled in the peace and quiet of Pennistone Royal.

  Paula had insisted she stay there until the wedding in ten days’ time, and she was happy to do so. Evan felt at ease in that great house, where she had spent most weekends for the past year. It had been bought in the 1930s by her great-grandmother; she loved being there because she felt the presence of Emma Harte within its walls. Not only that but it was truly familiar by now. Everyone had made her feel at home, and Margaret, the housekeeper, never stopped fussing over her, was motherly and also protective of her these days.

  Emily hadn’t minded that she wasn’t going to stay at Allington Hall and had insisted that she completely understood why Evan would want to be in such a familiar place as Pennistone Royal. Gideon’s mother was one of the sweetest women Evan had ever met, and hilariously funny at times, frequently a bit blunt, just as Linnet was.

  When Evan had mentioned this to Paula, she had laughed and nodded, her violet eyes twinkling. “They both take after Emma, I’m afraid. She was blunt, too, and Linnet, in particular, has inherited Emma’s penchant for genuine pithiness. My grandmother always said what she meant, and so does Linnet.”

  “And what you see is what you get,” Evan had replied, and the two of them had laughed knowingly.

  Winston Harte, Gideon’s father, was just as lovely as Emily. Both of them had made Evan feel special from the moment she started going out with Gideon. They had shown their approval of her as a wife for their son in countless ways. She couldn’t have wished for nicer parents-in-law, or for a more lovely sister-in-law than Natalie, now back from Australia. She was pretty, and a charming girl, and they had taken to each other immediately.

  The only person who seemed somewhat aloof was Gideon’s brother, Toby. Linnet had once confided to her that Toby was inordinately jealous of Gideon. “And his marriage to the actress faltered almost immediately, so I guess his nose is now out of joint because Gid’s got lovely you.”

  Not wanting to get into a long discussion about Toby for fear of seeming disloyal to Gideon, Evan had merely nodded; luckily, Linnet had suddenly realized she was late for a meeting and rushed off. The subject had never arisen again.

  Pushing herself to her feet, Evan went back to the worktable, where she sat down and slowly began to look through the numerous photographs Gideon had taken of their wedding presents. Everyone had sent extraordinary gifts, which were not only costly but beautiful as well. As Gideon had said, with a chuckle, “We don’t have to put any of these in the attic to be forgotten. We can use everything.” She had agreed, also laughing.

  “Hi there! How’re you doin’?”

  Evan sat up with a jerk, not having heard the door open. But she stared at it now in disbelief. Standing on the threshold was her twenty-three-year-old sister, Angharad. She was completely decked out in brilliant red, from her long cashmere muffler to her high-heeled leather boots. Not only that but she had dyed her hair, was now a platinum blonde.

  Evan’s jaw dropped, and it took her a moment to find her voice. “What are you doing here? I mean, Mom told me you weren’t coming till next week.”

  “I decided to come early. I wanted to mosey around London before heading north.”

  Evan went over to her sister and kissed her cheek; her expression was warm as she went on, “Well, goodness, don’t stand there, come in, come in.”

  Angharad did as Evan suggested, her eager brown eyes glancing around the room. “This office is fab. But then you always do manage to get a nice place to work, nicer than most people.”

  Ignoring this gibe, Evan murmured, “It’s warm in here. You’d better hang your coat and scarf in the closet behind you.” She padded across to the worktable, where she began to pick up some of the photographs, knowing it would be wiser to put them away before Angharad saw them. She was extremely nosy. But Evan was too late; her sister was heading her way. Turning away from the table, standing in front of it, Evan said, “Let’s sit on the sofa over there; it’s comfortable. And would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

  Angharad shook her head, standing stock-still in the middle of the room, staring at Evan intently. After a moment she exclaimed, “I can’t believe your size! You’re huge.” She began to laugh, the laughter sounding brittle, and not at all warm. “You look as if you’re about to give birth to baby elephants, not twin boys.”

  Wincing, Evan did not respond, and she found herself involuntarily putting both hands on her stomach, almost protectively. She recognized Angharad’s tone only too well. It held that hint of envy which the younger woman had never been able to disguise, not even as a child. It was indicative of her need to put Evan down whenever she could. She had always been jealous.

  Taking a deep breath, Evan now said softly “I suppose you’re staying at George’s hotel with Mom.”

  “Yes. And Mom’s coming over soon. To meet me here. We thought we could all have lunch together. What do you think?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course.” Evan swiftly agreed, although she was annoyed that her mother hadn’t phoned first. She had a lot to do before the end of the day, and lunch had not been on her agenda. She wanted to fulfill her work schedule before taking maternity leave.

  Stepping around her, Angharad was suddenly at the worktable, looking down at the photographs of Beck House, and within seconds she had zeroed in on the pictures of the furniture. “This is all Georgian,” she remarked, her voice rising, her eyes scanning everything. Picking up one picture, she scrutinized it intently. Then, turning to Evan, she asked, “Where did this piece come from?”

  “Out of the attics at Pennistone Royal. That’s Emma Harte’s former home. Now her granddaughter, my boss, Paula O’Neill, lives there. Paula gave that sideboard to Gideon and me. It was a discard.”

  “A discard. Who would ever do that? It’s a treasure. Have you had it evaluated?”

  “No, we haven’t. I was waiting for Dad. I sent him a set of the pictures. After all, he is one of the great experts on Georgian.”

&
nbsp; “I know that. I work with him, don’t I? When did you send them?”

  “Oh, three or four weeks ago now,” Evan answered, staring at her sister.

  “I wonder why he didn’t show them to me.” Angharad frowned, her mouth settling in a tight line.

  “Maybe he glanced at them and put them away without thinking,” Evan suggested, wondering herself why their father had not shown them to the daughter who worked alongside him in his antiques gallery in Connecticut. The daughter who was actually his protégée.

  “Is this the house?” Angharad asked, leaning over the table, peering at the other set of photographs.

  “Yes, that’s it. Beck House it’s called.”

  “Very nice. Very nice indeed,” Angharad murmured without turning around, her interest captured by the pictures of the various rooms, as well as the other photos of the furniture Emily and Paula had unearthed and given to them.

  After a while she straightened and turned away from the pictures. With a swift glance at Evan, her eyes cold, she said, “Well, you’ve done all right for yourself, haven’t you? But then you usually do land on your feet, Evan. You had everyone wrapped around your little finger when you lived at home. Mom, Grandma Glynnis, and particularly Dad and Grandfather. You were always their favorite. Elayne was second. I came last.”

  “But it wasn’t like that,” Evan said softly. “You weren’t last. No one was last … and I certainly didn’t come first. Dad treated the three of us alike.”

  “That’s a laugh. It’s me you’re talking to, Evan. Not Elayne. Me. I saw things very clearly. I was adopted, and therefore I was not blood … . I didn’t have the Hughes blood running through my veins. Not like you. Oh no. You were the precious one, the peach darling.”

  “Oh, Angharad, please, don’t be like this. Elayne is adopted, too, and Dad loves you both as much as he loves me,” Evan exclaimed.

  “Why do you always believe his spin?”

  Evan shook her head and began to walk to her chair, suddenly feeling sick, needing to sit down. This was an old story Angharad had been repeating it for years, convinced that she was the lowest of the low on the family totem pole. It had always annoyed their grandmother, this complaining and whining. Their father had simply ignored it, while their mother had tutted and cooed and embraced Angharad closer than ever, spoiling her in a way that made Elayne, the other adopted child, feel neglected.

  “You’re his princess!” Angharad cried. “The best, the smartest, the brightest, the most beautiful. You were always held up to us as the golden girl. If we didn’t shine like you, we were going to be struck off his list. Or put on his shit list. Whichever you prefer.”

  “You’re being really silly,” Evan remonstrated, trying to remain calm. “It was never like that.” Her protest fell on deaf ears.

  “You’re still the example. But you must know that by now. Evan the glorious one. The great-granddaughter of the famous Emma Harte. Talented and smart enough to get herself a top position at Harte’s. Without batting an eyelash. So beautiful and bewitching she captures the Prince Charming of the Harte family. The super-good-looking, super-rich Gideon. And now she’s fulfilled Gideon’s desire to present his father with an heir. But golly gee whiz, not one heir. Oh no, not Evan. She’s producing two. And his father’s equally besotted with the great Evan, who’s going to give him two instant grandsons.”

  “Please don’t do this,” Evan pleaded, her annoyance with her younger sister making her unexpectedly tense. It seemed to her that her anxiety was suddenly spiraling into a cloud that settled around her.

  “Do what?” Angharad asked, her voice icy

  “Pick a fight like this. The way you did when we were little. Nobody wins in the end.”

  “I’m not doing any such thing,” she shot back, her face flushing darkly “I’m telling you the truth is all. And Elayne’s as sick as I am of hearing about your damned wedding. Dad never stops talking about walking you down the aisle. Or talking about you. The bride of all brides.”

  “So why did you come?” Evan demanded, her indignation flaring. “If this is the way you feel, why didn’t you boycott my wedding?”

  “Mom wanted us here.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” Evan shouted and took a step backward, one hand groping for the arm of the typing chair she favored. As her hand touched the arm, she went to sit, but the chair rolled away on its casters and she fell, crashing heavily onto the floor. Evan cried out and clutched her stomach.

  Shocked, Angharad was unable to move. Swallowing hard, she asked in a whisper, “Are you all right? Evan? Evan? Are you all right?”

  Evan moaned and brought her knees up, still holding her stomach. Her face was now chalk white, and she did not answer.

  “Evan, please say something,” Angharad begged and stepped closer to her. “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t know,” Evan responded faintly. “Go and look for my secretary … Ruth.”

  At that precise moment Ruth came into the office carrying a glass and a bottle of water, followed by Linnet and Marietta Hughes.

  “Oh my God!” Marietta cried when she saw her daughter sprawled on the floor, and, not heeding the others, she pushed past Ruth and Linnet.

  “What’s happened? My God, what’s happened to you?” Marietta fell to her knees next to Evan, alarm racing through her.

  “Call my doctor. I can’t lose my babies, I can’t,” Evan groaned, tears sliding down her cheeks.

  4

  Gideon Harte pushed open the door of the waiting room at Queen Charlotte’s in Chelsea, the hospital where Evan had been taken, and hurried into the room, his expression tense and worried.

  Three pairs of female eyes instantly focused on him, and before he could say a word, Linnet rushed over to him. “Evan’s all right, Gid!” she exclaimed, wanting to reassure him at once. “She’s not hurt,” she added, taking hold of his arm in a proprietary way.

  “Thank God,” he answered, a surge of relief rushing through him. “I’ve been insane with worry all the way here.”

  Marietta came to join them, and, leaning toward Gideon, she kissed his cheek. He put his arm around his future mother-in-law, a woman he genuinely liked, and asked, “What happened, Marietta? When Linnet rang me at the paper, she said you were in Evan’s office when she had the accident.” He stared at her, his green gaze penetrating.

  “I wasn’t in the room, Gideon,” Marietta answered swiftly, shaking her head. “Evan was already on the floor when I arrived. I had no idea what had happened. I ran to her, of course, and when I was kneeling next to her, she said she’d had a fluky accident with the chair. She then asked me to call the doctor. Linnet, who was with me, did, and then we brought her here.”

  Gideon was frowning when he asked, “Did she fall out of the chair? Is that what you mean?”

  “Not exactly. Evan told me she had reached behind her with one hand, pulled the chair toward her, and then sat down. Somehow the chair rolled away, and down she went on the floor. But she’s fine, Gideon, just as Linnet said. The fall scared her more than anything else, I think.”

  “I understand. The nurse at reception told me the doctor’s still with her. Why is that? Do you know, Marietta? Linnet?” He looked from one woman to the other.

  “The doctor gave her a thorough examination when we arrived and came to tell us that she was not injured, that all was well. Then he went back to her room.” Marietta shrugged lightly, shaking her head. “I’m not sure why, he didn’t say.”

  “I hope he won’t be too long,” Gideon responded and then glanced across at the silent, blond young woman who was sitting in a corner. She was dressed entirely in red, which he thought somewhat flamboyant. He had never seen her before.

  Marietta, noticing his curious glance, exclaimed, “How rude I’m being! I must introduce you to my youngest daughter, Angharad. Evan’s sister.”

  On hearing her name, Angharad jumped to her feet and sped over. Thrusting out her hand, she said, “Hello, Gideon. It sure is
great to meet you.”

  Gideon took an instant dislike to her. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to take hold of the outstretched hand. It was cold, icy in fact, and he dropped it at once after giving it a swift shake. “How do you do?” he said, his manner reserved.

  She looked him up and down in a brazen way.

  He stared back, rapidly taking everything in. There was no question that she was pretty, with finely wrought features, perfect complexion, and large, dark brown eyes. Yet Gideon found her curiously repellent; he took a step backward. His guard went up, and his gut instinct kicked in, warning him to be wary of this one.

  It struck him that the platinum blond hair did nothing to lighten the darkness he sensed lived deep within her, and, in a flash of cold clarity he saw her in his mind’s eye as she really was, a small, dark, furtive creature, hiding in corners, peering through keyholes, forever seeking her own advantage. He was startled by these rather odd thoughts, yet he was convinced he was accurate in his assessment of Angharad Hughes. He sensed that wickedness dwelt in her, and this disturbed him.

  Anxious to put distance between them, he strode across the floor, then turned, glanced at Linnet, his hand on the doorknob. “I’m going to talk to the nurse at reception. I must see Evan right away.” As he jerked open the door, he found himself staring into the face of Charles Addney, Evan’s obstetrician.

  The doctor exclaimed, “There you are, Mr. Harte! I was just coming to fetch you. Let’s go and see Miss Hughes, shall we?”

  Gideon nodded and stepped out into the corridor, closing the door behind him. “I understand she’s all right. She is, isn’t she?”

  “Absolutely. Except for a bruised coccyx. That’s the tailbone. She went down rather hard, I’m afraid. But there’s no real damage, and the babies are perfectly fine.”

 

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