Mistaken Mistress

by Margaret Way

  As he stood at the door, Delma looked up, all the muscles in her long tanned neck tense. “Well he’s finally spilt the beans,” she said, pointing accusingly to Owen. “Not a word about his past has passed his lips for as long as we’ve been together, now bucket loads!”

  Owen grimaced. “Delma the drama queen! I’ve told her we’ll manage. It’s not as though I’ve been unfaithful to her. Eden is beautiful, isn’t she, Lang?”

  “Beautiful, clever, enchanting.” There was no point in mentioning she was far more than all three. Delma appeared desperately hurt and angry. Trying to allot blame. And why not? Frankly feeling the way he did, he couldn’t blame Delma for feeling betrayed.

  “You didn’t know anything, Lang?” Delma appealed to him, as her long-time friend and confidant, a role, in fact, pushed on him.

  “Don’t be a fool, woman,” Owen interjected sharply. “You know enough about Lang to realise he would have urged me to confide in you.”

  “So why didn’t you?” Delma demanded, looking almost haggard in her distress.

  “Frankly, my dear, I don’t think it was your business,” Owen responded far too bluntly. “All this happened a long time ago. Long before I met you. I doubt if I would have done anything only Cassandra died.”

  “Cassandra!” Delma lashed out. “What sort of a woman was she? You say it all happened a long time ago? Apparently it’s not finished yet. It mightn’t ever be finished. It could go on and on. What does she want, this girl?”

  Lang answered as Owen turned his head to the window. “She wants her father, Delma. Plain and simple. Looking back at her life she realises the man who had that role offered little in the way of love. I’ve met him. He’s another one who allowed himself to be trapped in the past. Whatever love he had in him, he gave to Eden’s mother.”

  “I just don’t believe this!” Delma, a woman lacking that particular sort of magnetism, rubbed her temple. “Isn’t this Cassandra supposed to be dead?”

  “Very dead.” Owen spoke harshly, fine dark eyes blazing. “My love affair with Cassandra was over twenty-five years ago. I regret not having spoken to you of the central tragedy of my life, Delma. It would have explained so much about me.”

  “It would have explained why you don’t love me.” Delma’s eyes were fixed intensely on her husband.

  Owen attempted a shrug, winced in pain. “You knew what I was like when you took me on, Del. You wanted me right or wrong as they say. I’ve tried to do my best. I’ve never been unfaithful to you.”

  But Delma’s expression was tense and bereft. “This feels like death,” she said painfully. “The death of a marriage. I won’t walk away from it with nothing, either. And I’ll have custody of my son.”

  Owen gave an ironic bark. “So much for a woman’s compassion. Cassandra gave me none. Now you. While you’re working out your strategies you might consider what’s your real problem? Eden is no threat to you or Robbie. She’s a warm, compassionate creature. What are you, Del?”

  “I want to see her, Lang,” Delma said determinedly when they were back in the car.

  “That’s up to Eden, Delma,” he said quietly. “She has to answer to no one. I should tell you she’s no push-over. She might have lacked a lot of love in her life, but she hasn’t lacked material things. She’s had an excellent education. She’s a lawyer, working in her grandfather’s firm. Quite a prestigious one as I’ve since found out.”

  Delma had little interest in that. “What does she look like? Is she like the mother? That’s what bothers me.” Her voice, one of her most attractive features, was flat with jealousy.

  “I wish I could tell you she doesn’t resemble her mother, Delma, but Owen admitted she’s her mother all over again.”

  “I suppose we can thank God she is his daughter otherwise he might have fallen madly in love with her all over again.”

  Lang glanced at her with open censure, his eyes cool. “I don’t think it helps to talk like that, Delma, even in your anger and hurt. Owen may not have done the right thing as far as we’re concerned, but knowing him as we do, it’s obvious he’s suffered through the years. Eden is his daughter. He lost her and mourned her for all these long years. Now they’ve been brought together by Cassandra’s death.”

  “How did she die?” Delma asked abruptly.

  “In a car crash.” He said nothing about the speculation attached to that.

  “There’s so much mystery surrounding that woman,” Delma said. “Was her father more important to her than the man she loved?”

  His father’s opinion had been very important to him. Lang remembered that very clearly. “Owen was little more than a boy,” he tried to explain. “He worked as an apprentice to a boat builder. Hence his knowledge about and interest in boats of all kinds. Cassandra was an only child. She couldn’t live with her father’s disapproval.”

  “You mean she couldn’t live in a less than privileged situation. Gutless, I call it.” Delma’s voice cracked.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” he sighed. “Cassandra’s life is over. For all she complicated her own and other people’s existence enormously.”

  “I knew Owen had secrets,” Delma lamented. “But no way did I think of this. Please do something for me, Lang. Ring her. Use your car phone. Just tell her I want to say hello. It won’t take long. I’ll stay in the car, but it’s crucial I see her.”

  Eden answered the phone on the third ring. She recognised his voice immediately and understandably there was a moment’s hesitation as he put Delma’s request to her.

  “I take it she’s very upset?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes.” That went without saying, but what an understatement! “Just a brief meeting. Delma is tired and she has no wish to disturb you. She’ll remain in the car. Perhaps you could come out to us.”

  “No problem,” she answered, sounding very much like she could handle it. “I’ll be on the lookout for the car.”

  “Ten minutes,” he said.

  The massive wrought-iron gates hung wide open when they arrived. Electronically controlled they’d been shut earlier in the day so he surmised Eden must have activated the switch to open them.

  “So we’re not dealing with a little farm girl,” Delma observed, looking up towards the very large, very pricey piece of real estate.

  “We’re not dealing with Eden at all,” he pointed out with another obscure flash of anger.

  Delma’s response was dismay when she first caught sight of the girl. Eden was moving swiftly, gracefully along the circular driveway, the breeze lifting her long hair and fluttering the hem of her pretty dress. “What wouldn’t I give to look like that!” Delma spoke defeatedly.

  He tried to brace her. “You’re a very attractive woman yourself, Delma. Don’t hold it against Eden because she happens to be beautiful.”

  “Ah, yes, the genetic factor,” Delma grimaced. “My poor Owen. He didn’t have a chance.”

  He brought the hired BMW to a slow halt. Eden, unsmiling, but looking serene, came alongside. “Lang,” she acknowledged him with a soft, sideways glance, her attention directed towards the woman in the car. “Hello there!” Now she smiled, her whole demeanour warm and friendly. “I’m so very pleased to meet you, Delma. May I?”

  Delma tried desperately to keep her emotions under control, but in the end couldn’t. “You and your father have been meeting for months,” she burst out, high colour in her face. “Why now?”

  Oh no! Lang thought wearily, thinking everything was turning into a shambles. Delma had promised she would remain civil.

  “Six months isn’t a long time, Mrs. Carter,” Eden was saying “I’d call twenty-four years a long time. I had no word from Owen in that time. I’m so very sorry you’re upset. I can see that you are. I want you to know I understand how you feel.”

  “How could you?” Delma laughed dubiously, beyond hearing the sincerity in the younger woman’s voice.

  Clearly it wasn’t the time to talk so Eden stepped back from the car
. “Perhaps we can speak when you’re less shocked?”

  “Oh goodness, yes!” Delma gave a cracked laugh, hating herself, hating this girl with her beautiful face and her fine composure.

  Lang stepped out of the car, determined to cut the meeting short. “I’m sorry,” he apologised to Eden, leading her away. “I should have known better. I haven’t made so many mistakes in years.” Another great difficulty he had to contend with.

  “You’re by no means the only one.” She turned back towards Delma. “Goodbye, Mrs. Carter,” she called. “Please believe it when I say I’m no threat to you. Or to Robbie.”

  “You mean my son!” Delma thrust her head out of the car window aggressively.

  “And my half brother.” A flame in Eden’s violet eyes sparked. “At least he’s had his father for all of his young life.” With that, she turned swiftly on her heel.

  Lang found himself going after her, catching her without effort although she was moving like a gazelle. “It’s her pain and frustration talking. Please, Eden.” He tried to appeal to her. “Hurt has afflicted us all.”

  “Yes it has.” She swallowed down a rush of shame and humiliation, staring up into his taut handsome face. Something powerful drew her to him, those brilliant light eyes on her setting off a tremulous shock. She realized, but for the deception that lay between them, the betrayal, they would undoubtedly have been drawn together. “Mrs. Carter’s reaction is understandable,” she said, “perhaps even reasonable given so much has been kept from her. But that woman will never like me. I know that for certain.”

  He could well have agreed, instead he said, “Give her a chance. When she’s less stressed.”

  “It has nothing to do with stress.” Eden continued walking back to the house. “She will never forget the part my mother played in Owen’s life. She probably never knew what was going on in her married life, now the knowledge will engulf her. For very obvious reasons she won’t want me around. I’ll only serve to remind Owen of my mother.”

  “That’s awkward, I know.” By now they had moved into the shelter of the Gothic doorway. Just for a moment he lost control of his hand. It caught the point of her shoulder—he could feel the delicate bones as he turned her to face him. “Your mother tragically is dead. You’ll have your own life to lead. You’ll marry. Have a home of your own. Owen isn’t going to dominate your life.”

  “No he isn’t.” She shook her head so forcefully her loose dark mane was set in motion. “No man is ever going to dominate me. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for most of my life.”

  He tried to be as patient as he could and he wasn’t by nature a patient man. “I’ll take Delma back to the hotel. See her settled. I’m not family, you know, though God knows I always seem to get involved.” Delma was too much in the habit of using him as backup, but he didn’t tell Eden that. Instead he said, “Owen is at fault here whichever way you look at it.” He couldn’t possibly add “and your mother,” that would have been too cruel. “I’ve had countless business hassles to confront over the years but I don’t think I’ve ever felt as frazzled as I’m feeling now. Have lunch with me. I didn’t have much breakfast and I’m hungry. How about you?”

  “Are you suggesting we start again?” Her soft voice held the merest silky taunt.

  “We can try.” He met her direct gaze with one equally intense.

  “Dad must have been terribly upset if Delma feels this way?”

  He made a sound of exasperation. “Owen is as tough as tempered steel. I’m afraid if he hadn’t had an accident and been hospitalised I’d have said he had it coming.”

  “So you’ve distributed the blame fairly. Part Dad. Part me.”

  It was too true. He glanced back over his shoulder to the car where a no doubt seething Delma was waiting. “Eden, I don’t have time to argue or analyse,” he said, trying not to sound curt but not succeeding. “I don’t even have the inclination. Delma is waiting. I’ll drive her back to her hotel. Owen is in good hands. Let’s just have lunch. I can be back in about thirty minutes.”

  “Fine.” Eden responded with cool calm, when her mind was racing. In many ways this man was her enemy. And he was such a mixture! So tough and hard, yet it was equally true he was trying to find common ground. She could have declined his invitation, but she hadn’t. He was far too compelling and he had touched off a deep sense of challenge.

  Under an hour later they were sitting at a corner table at an excellent out-of-the-city restaurant with a fresh contemporary look. The perfect place to relax but both of them were decidedly edgy, as though by being together they were taking a risk.

  “What about sea food?” he asked, flooded by a kind of delight in her presence, lapped over by a profound wariness that had something to do with the power of her beauty and feminine allure.

  “It’s very good here.” She nodded, glancing around at the other couples at the tables. Most were young, arty and deep in conversation, faces full of vitality and sexual invitation.

  “Then the lobster?” He glanced up from the menu, seeing the shadows in her beautiful, violet eyes. She looked entirely without artifice but she couldn’t be free of it, he thought cynically.

  “Why not.”

  She said it elegantly with a little wave of her hand, almost as if it didn’t matter what he ordered, she would like it.

  “A glass of wine?”

  “Just one. Perhaps a chardonnay. This has been a hard time for me.”

  “I don’t mind telling you it’s been a hard time for us all,” he said with a trace of black humour. “Owen’s actions over many long months have been quite inexplicable and therefore upsetting.” He lifted a hand to signal the waiter who responded immediately, threading his way through the tables.

  “Well it shows.” She reached over and tentatively touched his hand. “Please let me say again I’m sorry for the deception.”

  “I just wish you’d have been more open.” He wanted to take her slender fingers, but was careful not to.

  “It was what I wanted.” Her skin tingled from contact with his. Her heart pumped harder.

  “Only Owen didn’t judge it the right time?” His voice mocked her.

  “Maybe he isn’t as perfect as you are,” she retorted very quickly, trying to shift the weight off her heart. The waiter arrived and she sat back, a little shocked at herself, allowing him to order for both of them. She had never had a penchant for saying dangerous things before but this man brought out a hidden recklessness.

  The white wine when it arrived was chilled and beautiful, full of fruit flavours and refreshing acids.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, watching the way her mouth rounded lusciously as it touched the wineglass. Hers was a mouth just begging to be kissed.

  “Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could miraculously wash our world clean.”

  He shrugged. “The past always stays with us,” he said. “One thing is certain, all of our lives will change. Owen will want to keep you by him. Once found, you won’t get away.”

  “I can tell you’re very disillusioned with Dad?”

  He knew he appeared to be coolly scrutinizing her but in reality he was soaking up that beauty and femininity like a sponge. “Owen has been very good to me.” He leaned towards her. “I can never forget that. He’s been a true friend. It’s just that he chose to keep so much that was absolutely vital about him from us. We’re not talking the grand love affair of his youth here. The consequence was you. His daughter. Small wonder Delma is shocked.”

  “And that bothers you?” she asked. “What exactly is Delma to you?” It was an awful thing to say but she said it, wanting to challenge him as he was challenging her. “Is it possible there’s more to your friendship than meets the eye?”

  His silver eyes very nearly smoked. “Oh, don’t be absurd.”

  “It’s obvious you really feel for her.” She stared into his handsome, arrogant face.

  “I’ve known her since forever,” he clipped of
f. “She’s a friend. I’ve seen the best and worst of her.”

  “Is it possible you once had an affair?”

  The beautifully cut mouth showed both disdain and amusement. “Now you’ve added something entirely new to the script.”

  “If it’s any consolation I know that.” Eden dipped her head in apology. “But you are close.”

  “Because I’m Owen’s friend and partner and Robbie is my godson,” he answered with faint heat. “Also Delma needs a sympathetic ear from time to time.”

  “Surely she has lots of women friends? Her own family?” She knew she was pushing it, but the need to know gripped her.

  He went quiet for a while. “Delma’s family moved back to Italy when Delma was around your age. She loved it here, so she stayed. I think she was hooked on Owen even then.”

  “Now I suppose she’s wondering what she got herself into?”

  “She’ll stay around,” he observed briefly, picking up his wineglass.

  “So what does that mean?” Eden asked in horror. “Has she threatened to leave Dad?”

  “A threat only. A moment of despair and humiliation. What are your plans?”

  She glanced briefly away. “I can never, never live in Dad’s home. That’s entirely out of the question.”

  “You say that now.” His voice hardened suddenly. “If you wait a while longer things might settle.”

  She laughed in the middle of her anguish. “You’re a clever man. You know perfectly well there’s no chance of normality.”

  “I know equally well Owen won’t allow his newfound daughter to get away,” he retorted, narrowing his eyes. Reflected sunlight lit her skin. She wore a different dress, a summery white one. It made her look like a lily.

  “Why do you hate me so much?”

  He flashed her a brilliant look. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t hate you at all.”

  “But you find no joy in my sudden entry into your life?”