'It's too late,' Melanie said quickly. The last thing in the world that she wanted was to have the ring returned to her and be in Mrs. Ransome's debt for such an amount. 'It's already been sold.'
'So soon?'
Yes,' Melanie lied. 'That's why I got such a good price.
Because there was a customer who wanted it.'
'Well, at least we can get back the pearls.'
'They've gone too.'
Then I'll replace them.'
'I'd rather you didn't.' She hesitated, searching for an excuse. It wouldn't be the same - and it would only remind me…’
Airs. Ransome sighed. 'I do wish you'd come to me in the first place… If you ever need anything again…' Suddenly she gave a smile. 'But how silly of me. You'll have Timothy's share of the business now, and you won't be short of money again. I took it for granted you'd have known that already.'
'No,' Melanie said slowly, and looked directly at Gregory. 'I knew nothing of Timothy's affairs.'
Then Gregory will tell you. I should have done so myself, but—' her voice broke and she lowered her head.
There's no need for you to talk about anything,' Gregory Ransome said to his aunt, his voice so gentle that Melanie wondered at it. 'I'll see that Melanie knows all she wants to.'
Furious at such two-faced behaviour, Melanie glared at him. ‘Why don't you tell me right now? Then we needn't discuss it again.'
Gregory looked at her. With his aunt to one side of him, he was able to let his expression speak for itself, and it held the same contempt with which he had always regarded her. But when he spoke his voice held exactly the same tone as before.
'An excellent idea. Tell me what you want to know.'
‘Everything. But keep it simple. I haven't got a business brain.'
The venom in his glance gave her a feeling of triumph, and she sat back in the chair and waited for him to begin.
‘Ransome Engineering was started by my uncle and Herbert Fen wick and they both had equal shares in it. My uncle put his shares into a family trust but left ten per cent directly to Timothy, which Timothy inherited when my uncle died.'
'It was that ten per cent which caused the trouble,' Mrs. Ransome intervened. 'If my husband had guessed what Herbert wanted to do he'd have kept all the shares in the trust. When I think of the trouble it caused, I—'
'There's no need to get upset,' Gregory said calmly. 'There's nothing Herbert can do now.'
As she listened to Gregory's soothing tones Melanie instinctively knew he was hiding something and determination made her direct her next question to her mother-in-law.
‘What sort of trouble did Mr. Fenwick try to cause?’
He wanted to change the whole concept of the business. Even before my husband died he was pressing him to bring in automation, but John wouldn't agree to it Then when he died, Herbert started to put pressure on to Timothy.'
Melanie was now so out of her depth that she knew it was useless to pretend she understood what was being said, and she looked helplessly at the man sitting at the opposite side of the fireplace.
'Fenwlck isn't quite the bogey-man my aunt makes out,' Gregory said. ‘From a business point of view what he wanted to do was highly practical.'
How can you say that!' Mrs. Ransome burst out.
‘Because it's true. If Uncle John hadn't died he'd have been forced to realize it sooner or later.'
Gregory looked at Melanie again. 'Fenwick knew that automation would Increase output by fifty per cent, though It would also have meant making twenty-five per cent of the staff redundant. It was for that reason that my uncle wouldn't agree to it'
‘John looked on the business as a family concern,’ Mrs. Ransome Intervened. He didn't want to fire anyone.'
'My uncle would have been forced to have given in eventually,' Gregory said, ignoring the remark. If he hadn't, he I would have been out-priced by his competitors. But he died I before anything could be decided.'
That's when Herbert offered to buy Timothy's personal shares,' Mrs. Ransome spoke again.
‘Why?' Melanie asked.
'Because the extra ten per cent would have given him control. But luckily Timothy refused to sell.'
'It wasn't very practical.' Melanie spoke automatically, not realizing - until she had done so - that her words were an implied criticism of Timothy's actions.
'It wasn't wise from a business point of view,' Mrs. Ransome agreed tremulously, ‘but Timothy wouldn't sell because he knew I wanted to follow my husband's wishes for as long as possible. And while Herbert didn't have Timothy's extra ten per cent he couldn't outvote me.'
Melanie looked at Gregory. He was leaning back in his arm-chair, his face expressionless. The blackness of his dinner-jacket echoed the blackness of his hair, serving in some strange way to also heighten the strength of his features, and making him look even more arrogant and commanding than she had remembered. No need to wonder on whose side he would have been when it came to a vote! Success and money - no matter what personal relationship they destroyed - would obviously outweigh any other criteria he might have.
Mischief prompted her to ask him the question which tact would normally have forbidden. 'And whose side were you on, Gregory?'
Imperturbably he flicked ash from his cigar Into the fire. I have no say in Ransome Engineering. I run my own company.’
'Gregory's in property,' his aunt said. ‘John wanted him to Join the firm, but he wouldn't. Even as a boy he was obstinate! Said we'd already done enough for him and that he felt he should make his own way In the world.'
'Commendable sentiments,' Melanie said dryly.
'You should know,' Mrs. Ransome replied. 'You're as obstinate as he is!'
‘No, I'm not!'
'Of course you are. Obstinate and proud. But all that's over now. From now on you've got nothing to worry about financially.'
Melanie did her best to keep all emotion out of her face. Everything her mother-in-law was saying was a complete denial of all that Gregory had said to her earlier. She remembered how forcibly she had disagreed with Anton when he had said Gregory had been lying, and though she would happily have wished to believe it, she instinctively felt that what Gregory was saying now was the lie - and that he was only uttering it because his aunt was present. Only by speaking to him on his own would it be possible to learn the truth about Timothy.
The opportunity was given to her sooner than she had anticipated, for suddenly the colour ebbed from Mrs. Ransome's face and she fell back against the settee.
Instantly Gregory was by her side. ‘I knew I shouldn't have let you hear all this. It Isn't good for you to talk about the past You must go to bed.' He glanced at Melanie. 'I'll take my aunt up to her room. Please wait for me.'
He bent forward, and to Melanie's amazement lifted his aunt bodily into his arms. At the doorway he paused for her to turn her head in Melanie's direction.
'Do you forgive me for what I said to you at the theatre this afternoon?'
'I don't even remember it,' Melanie said staunchly, and kept the smile on her face until the door had closed.
Alone at last, she nervously paced the room, knowing there would have to be a showdown when Gregory returned, yet dreading what it might reveal. So Immersed was she in her thoughts that she did not hear him come back, and only as he spoke did she swing round from the window to see that he had returned to his chair at the fireplace.
Still remaining where she was, she spoke to him. 'Don't you think you owe me an explanation?' He said nothing and after a few seconds' silence she spoke again, her voice louder. 'Either you were lying when you told me Timothy's position, or else Mrs. Ransome isn't telling me the truth. And I don't intend to leave this house until I find out.'
'I didn't think you would,' he said slowly, and then said no more.
Anger flared in her and she glanced round the room, unconsciously repeating Anton's gesture. 'If Ransome Engineeering can afford to keep my mother-in-law in this house, then ten per cent should
n't be too bad for me!' She waited, expecting her outburst - deliberately made to provoke him - to arouse him. But still he said nothing, and with a sigh she came and sat down on the settee. 'Please tell me the truth. Tell me why you lied to me.'
'I've never lied to you. Timothy had a small allowance to stop him from gambling. I didn't tell you that because there was no point. But it was perfectly true that he didn't have enough money to buy you any jewellery.'
'Mrs. Ransome said you loaned it to him.'
'You're too intelligent to believe that, surely?'
Mortified, she nodded. 'Then where did he get the money?'
'Do you need to ask?' There was such fury in his voice that she was taken aback. 'Don't waste your time playing the innocent with me. You know damn well where he got the cash from.'
'I don't! And if you refuse to tell me, I'll ask your aunt.'
You'll do nothing of the sort!' He jumped up and took a step towards her, and she felt a stab of fear at the look of hatred on his face. 'Don't you think you've done enough harm already without trying to kill my aunt with shock?'
'Kill her?' Melanie echoed, astonished.
'Her heart's bad. Any worry or upset could give her another coronary.'
'I see.' There was a pause. 'Then I'm afraid you will have to answer my questions.'
'I'm afraid I will.'
To her surprise there was not the anger she had expected in his voice, only a sadness that was repeated in the expression on his face. No longer was it hard and tense, and the firm mouth had softened so that she could appreciate the curve of the upper lip and the full sensuality of the lower one. Taking a small crocodile case from his breast pocket, he took out a cigar, nipped off the end with a gold cutter and slowly lit it. The flame, so close to his eyes, reflected the same sadness as the rest of his face, and she knew that though he found it difficult to tell her the truth, it was not because of anger, but because the truth was hurtful to him.
'Timothy got the money to buy your jewellery by selling his shares to Herbert Fenwick.'
It took an instant for the words to sink in, but when they did she stared at him disbelievingly. 'But his mother said—'
'My aunt doesn't know the truth. If she found out… I wouldn't like to think what the shock could do to her.'
'But why?' Melanie asked. ‘Why did he do it?'
'Because of you!'
She ignored the reply. 'He wouldn't have sold out! I can't believe it. He'd have known his mother would find out… what the shock would do to her… No, it isn't true. Timothy may have been - may have been wild, but he wasn't - he wasn't bad.'
'I don't think you realized your power over him.' Gregory's voice was still low and less harsh than usual. 'He was good- looking and had many girl-friends, but he was always unsure of himself. When you came into his life he was determined to do everything he could to keep you.'
'I asked him for nothing. What he gave me, he gave because he wanted to - perhaps because he found it necessary.' She stopped, seeing from his expression that it was a waste of time trying to make him see how badly he was misjudging her. Deliberately she changed the subject. 'But your aunt will find out sooner or later - about the shares, I mean. Mr. Fenwick won't want to waste time before putting his plans into effect.'
'I've managed to persuade him to wait a little while: to at least give my aunt a chance to get over the shock of Timothy's death.'
‘You must have very persuasive powers!'
'I have,' came the cold reply, and though she was convinced there was more behind his words than he had said she knew he had no intention of telling her.
'Is there anything else you wish to know?' he went on, ‘or is the catechism over?'
Again temper prompted her next question. 'How much did Mr. Fenwick give Timothy for his shares?'
'Fifteen thousand pounds.'
Melanie thought carefully for a moment. Gregory's answer had surprised her and instinctively she felt there was something wrong with the amount he had mentioned. Fifteen thousand pounds for ten per cent of the company. She glanced round the elegant drawing-room with a more appraising glance than she had ever given it before, seeing not only the Renoir and the exquisite French furniture, but also the small Matisse over the bureau and the jade figurines carefully displayed in a pair of cabinets.
'Does Mrs. Ransome own everything in this house?' she asked.
'Yes.'
'Then it's even more ridiculous than I thought!'
The man looked at her in astonishment. 'You'll have to be more explicit, I'm afraid.'
‘Well, count it up yourself. Your aunt must be very rich. Extremely so if this house is anything to go by. I'm assuming that the money has all come from the family business, which means that ten per cent of it must have been worth far more than fifteen thousand pounds. It doesn't make sense that Timothy would have sold his shares for that amount - particularly as they'd have given Mr. Fenwick the control he wanted so badly.'
From the startled look on Gregory Ransome's face she knew it was a thought that had never struck him before, and she watched as he rubbed the side of his cheek with one long, slender finger.
‘You're not as naive as you first wanted me to think,' he said. 'I was mad not to have thought of it myself. But when Fenwick told me it came as such a shock - and so soon after Timothy's death that I just accepted it… I never thought about the ' actual price.'
'Then you aren't as businesslike as you led me to believe!' she retorted, and had the pleasure of seeing him change colour.
'It still doesn't affect my cousin's reason for wanting the f. money!'came the reply.
'For heaven's sake, can't you ever admit you're wrong!'
'About you? No, I can't.'
He jumped up and began to pace the room, his muttered words telling that he had already relegated her remarks into the back of his mind and was concentrating on something which he considered of far more importance: Timothy's shares.
'The only reason he would have sold them for so little is because he didn't want my aunt to find out… No, that doesn't make sense either. Once Fenwick had control, the truth would have come out the minute he started altering things at the factory.' There were further mutterings which were too softly spoken to be heard. 'Then why did he do it?' This time the question was almost a shout. 'There's got to be a reason.'
'Perhaps Timothy wasn't very good at business,' Melanie said.
‘He wasn't,' came the terse reply. 'But he knew the value of things and he could always raise more money when he was at ' university than any of his friends! No, there must be some special reason.'
‘Have you gone through his papers? Perhaps there's a clue there.'
Gregory shook his head. 'I doubt if Timothy kept any papers. He was pretty haphazard about that.'
It might still be worth going to his fiat.'
'Haven't you been back there yet?'
'No.' Sensing that he was waiting for her to continue, she > added: 'I couldn't bring myself to go… it was too painful.'
He frowned. 'It's not a bad idea to have a look there, though. I think I'll go over myself. There might be some papers lying around. It's a long shot but the only one I can think of.' His frown deepened. 'You won't say anything about this to my aunt, will you?'
'You already told me why I shouldn't,' she said icily. 'Credit me with some feeling even though you do think I'm a gold- digger!'
His look showed no embarrassment. 'I will arrange for you to receive an allowance each month.'
'That won't be necessary. If Timothy had nothing to leave, then I have nothing to get. You needn't feel you have to bribe me to keep my mouth shut!'
'I wasn't thinking of it as a bribe. I was merely thinking of my aunt. She has excellent taste in clothes, and if you intend to keep on visiting her - as you obviously do - then you'll have to come here wearing the sort of things she'd expect you to be able to afford.’
The pompous words made her laugh. 'How old-fashioned you are, Cousin Gregory! As I'm n
ot the sort of wife anyone would have expected Timothy to marry, I honestly don't think that it matters if I wear haute couture or Marks and Sparks! Anyway, I happen to credit your aunt with more sense than you do. She won't expect me to follow fashion. If I did it's the one thing that would make her think I was behaving oddly.’
Til still arrange for you to have an allowance.'
'How?'
That's my business,' he said coldly.
You mean you'd pay me yourself?’ she grinned. That's almost tempting me into accepting your offer!' She paused and waited for the look of triumph to appear on his face before adding: 'If you do send me one single penny, I'll go straight to Mrs. Ransome and tell her the whole story.'
His expression changed, the triumph replaced by a sardonic lift of his eyebrows. You really will go to extremes to show me how unworldly you are! Well, you've made the point. But if you do want money at any time, come to me. I don't want my aunt upset in any way.'
Thanks for your offer, but I'd never take anything from you. I'd rather scrub floors!' She stood up. 'Anyway, Anton's running the financial side of the Company now, so I'm sure we'll manage.’
'You really are concerned about the ballet, aren't you?' he said with unexpected surprise.
'It's been my life.' She moved to the door. 'And now, if you don't mind, I'll go home.'
' There's no need.' Without answering, he held the door open for her, waited as she put on her coat and then preceded her outside. She shivered slightly as she felt the cold air, and dug her hands deeper into her pockets.
‘You're not dressed warmly enough,' he remarked, 'You should have put on a fur.’
‘Ballet dancers' allowances don't run to furs!'
'I'm surprised you didn't—' he hesitated and then said deliberately, ‘that you didn't get Timothy to buy you one.'
She stopped on the pavement and looked up at him. In the darkness he seemed taller than usual, towering above her like a sceptre. 'If you go on making snide remarks at me, Mr. Ransome, I'll—' Abruptly she stopped and turned her back on him.
Roberta Leigh - My Hearts a Dancer Page 8