Her arm still tingled from Matt’s touch when he’d grabbed her at the front door. Not in a hurtful way, but with a definite show of strength and dominance that from any other man would have made her feel vulnerable, even frightened. But she knew him so much better than that.
She hadn’t planned on getting home this late; in fact she hadn’t planned on leaving Blake with his grandparents. But both Katherine and Blake had been so excited at the prospect, that she hadn’t seen the harm in it. At least not until she’d walked through the front door and come face-to-face with Matt.
There was a different air about him tonight. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Had he followed through on his plans to confirm this new link between Marise and Howard? Matt wasn’t the kind of man to let something like that lie. Had he been in touch with Kimberley Perrini? Was that the reason he seemed so…on edge? She was dying to ask but knew she’d be overstepping the boundaries of their employer/employee relationship if she did so—the boundaries he was so determined to keep firmly in place.
She snatched her handbag up from the kitchen table where she’d left it and picked up her jacket. With dinner under way she’d put her things away in her room.
Upstairs, she was surprised to hear noise coming from one of the other bedrooms. She quickly put her things away, then went to investigate. To her surprise Matt was in the room, the wardrobe was pulled open and he’d taken several garments from inside and was inspecting them before laying them on the bed.
“Matt? Can I help you? What are you doing?”
“Looking for hair, Marise’s hair. I need it to send to Australia.”
“So you talked to Kim, then.”
“Yes.”
“And it went well?” she prompted.
“They’ve agreed to the DNA testing.”
Rachel chewed her lip and watched as he moved from the wardrobe to the dresser on the opposite side of the room. Suddenly it occurred to her that the room was full of Marise’s things. Why was that, when the master suite was downstairs? Just how long had they been estranged? Her mother had hinted at trouble between the two of them, a distance and coldness that she couldn’t understand in a couple that were still essentially newly wed. Away in London at the time, Rachel hadn’t paid much attention to it. Matt’s marital problems were the last thing she’d wanted to dwell on. Ever since her mother had told her of his sudden nuptials, Rachel had fought to lock her feelings for him out of her heart and mind.
She turned his response over in her mind. There was something he wasn’t saying, she was certain.
“Just like that? They agreed? You must be quite relieved.”
“It wasn’t that simple.” Matt stopped what he was doing and sat on the edge of the bed. “They had some conditions of their own.”
“Conditions?”
“Yeah, can’t say I’m surprised. They want me to withdraw from the takeover. They won’t release proof of the results of the test unless I do.”
“And will you?” Rachel walked over to the drawers and began refolding all the things Matt had pulled out.
“I haven’t decided yet. First I have to find something of hers that can be used for the test. Without that it’s all relative, anyway.”
“So what sort of thing are you looking for?”
“Something on which she’d have left a trace of her DNA. Kim said a toothbrush or hairbrush would do, but all of those things have been cleared away. There’s not so much as a lipstick-stained tissue left in a handbag or a loose hair on a garment. Nothing.”
Rachel closed the drawers on the dresser and systematically started to put away the gowns and suits Matt had thrown onto the bed. Everything was of the finest quality, everything typical of Marise in cut, style and colour. But not so much as a trace of fragrance lingered on her things. It was as if these were the clothes of a stranger. Someone who’d gone without leaving an imprint of their passage.
A thought suddenly struck her.
“What about her car? Did she keep a hairbrush or lipstick in the glove compartment? She always was meticulous about her appearance. She’s bound to have something still in there.”
“Good idea. I’ll check. Leave those.” He gestured at the things she hadn’t yet put away. “It’s time they all went.”
“Would you like me to see to it?” Rachel offered.
He hesitated a moment at the open wardrobe. One hand reached out to touch the shimmering gold-coloured satin of an evening gown Rachel recognised from a society shot that had been plastered across the papers worldwide shortly after Matt and Marise had married. He fingered the fabric for a moment, then dropped it again as if its touch was like acid against his skin.
“Yes. Get rid of it all. I don’t care where to. Just get it out of here.”
He left the room on quick strides, and she heard him head down the stairs. She looked around the room and wondered anew at the estrangement between him and his dead wife. When her mother had told her of their marriage, Rachel had tried to convince herself that she was happy for him that he’d found love even if it wasn’t with her.
Up until that call she’d still harboured hope that one day she’d be able to win his heart. For as long as she could remember she’d loved him. First with the hero-worship adoration of a child, but then, as she’d hit her teenage years, the five-year age difference between them hadn’t seemed so monumental anymore, and a new attraction had burned within her. One that had seen her take the lead the night he’d stepped in to escort her to her school ball.
She still remembered vividly how he’d looked that night. His blond hair was combed straight back off his strong forehead, making him look older, more distant than she was used to. When he’d come to her mother’s apartment to pick her up she’d been breathless with excitement. Finally, she’d thought, he’d see her as he was meant to see her. Finally he would realise that she loved him and that he loved her, too.
Rachel’s mouth twisted at the memory. He’d seen her, all right. He’d even allowed her to woo him, seduce him, with her newfound maturity and confidence. When he’d taken her in his arms and they’d made love in his car, she’d embraced the crossover between child and woman, welcomed the brief discomfort she’d experienced, revelled in the heights of pleasure he’d brought her. Finally she was his.
Except once the heat of their passion for each other had ebbed, as surely as the outgoing tide on the beach where he’d parked, he’d become a stranger. He’d straightened his clothes and then hers, plucking her arms from around his neck when she’d reached for him again.
The expression on his face had said it all. He’d apologised for taking advantage of her, had said it would never happen again. Each word had been a death blow to her hopes.
When he’d agreed to accompany her to her ball she’d believed that finally he had begun to see her as the woman she’d become, but instead he’d seen her as a charity case. Someone who’d been let down by her own partner and whom he’d agreed to take so she wouldn’t lose face among her peer group. He’d looked out for her like a brother. Except her feelings for him had never been sisterly. Not then and certainly not now.
Rachel sighed as she turned off the bedroom light and left the room, closing the door with a firm click behind her as she went. The last thing she needed tonight was the ghost of Marise’s presence plaguing her sleep. She’d inventory the contents of the room and deal with them tomorrow while Blake was at preschool. Maybe they’d all rest a bit easier when that was finally done.
Matt met her at the bottom of the stairs, a sealed plastic bag in his hand.
“You were right. She did keep a hairbrush in the car. I’ll get this away to Sydney in the morning. Thanks for the suggestion.”
Rachel smiled and nodded. “Sure, no worries. Dinner should be just about ready. Where would you like to eat tonight?”
“Since Blake’s not home I’ll take advantage of the quiet and do some work in the library. Can you bring a tray to me there?”
Rachel nod
ded. So he was shutting himself away again. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for her mother’s return from down country and the chance to leave here again. But this time she wouldn’t be in a hurry to return. There were some things a woman just couldn’t keep putting herself in line for and flat-out rejection was one of them.
Ten
Matt’s head spun with unanswered questions as he hung up his telephone. Kim’s words still echoed in his ears. The results of the DNA testing were irrefutable.
Howard Blackstone was Marise’s father.
Somehow the knowing didn’t do much to ease the anger he still felt towards both his wife and his family nemesis. If Marise had believed Howard was her father before the plane crash, why had she not simply picked up a phone and told Matt? Because she’d been planning to divorce him, that’s why, he reminded himself grimly. And with the full and financial support of Blackstone to do so. It was just the kind of leverage Howard would have relished.
But now he had another problem to consider. In light of the results, Kim and her brothers had offered to see to it that Marise’s remains be removed from their resting place at Waverley Cemetery and have her reburied in the Blackstone family plot at Rookwood.
His first instinct was to leave her where she was, but he knew deep inside that, with her love of pomp and circumstance, Marise would have preferred to be buried a Blackstone. His hand fisted around the pen he’d been taking notes with, snapping the tube into splinters.
A Blackstone. How bitterly ironic that he’d married one.
He dropped the fragments of his pen into the wastepaper basket and brushed off his hands. If only it was as easy to brush off the knowledge that his wife had taken that final irrevocable step to dissolve their marriage and take Blake from him.
It was time to break the news to Briana. How did one tell someone that their mother had been unfaithful to their father? That the sister they’d grown up with, loved and fought with in the way that sisters did, was only a half sister after all. He took in a deep, steadying breath. It had to be done. He picked up the phone and called Briana and Jarrod’s number, expelling that breath in a rush when Briana answered on the fourth ring.
“Briana, it’s Matt. I have some news about Marise that you really need to hear.”
“News?” Briana sounded wary. She wasn’t the only one reluctant to uncover Marise’s skeletons, not after the way her discovery of the four Blackstone diamonds that Marise had secreted in her safe had almost ripped apart her relationship with Jarrod.
“Yeah, you might want to sit down. You know how I had tests done to prove Blake is my son? Well it led me to wondering about a possible link between Howard and Marise. It wasn’t until I did a little more research that it became apparent that there were several links between your mother, Howard and Marise.” He paused while the news sunk in. “Briana, Howard was Marise’s father.”
Her sharply indrawn breath resonated in his ear.
“You mean Mum had an affair with Howard Blackstone? Oh my God! No! I don’t believe it. She couldn’t have done something like that. She loved Dad.”
“I’m sorry, Briana. I know the news is difficult to stomach.” He concisely explained about the DNA matching that had been done with the hair from Marise’s brush and the data used to identify Howard. “The test results are indisputable. It’s possible that Blackstone turned on the charm and coerced your mother—goodness knows he knew how to do that to his advantage. And Ursula wasn’t well then. Whatever their reasons, I think he rejected Barbara when she told him the news. We know she left her position suddenly. The more you look at it, the more it makes sense.”
“That’s true, but an affair? How on earth could they have kept that a secret, and for so long? And what makes you think he rejected her? It could have been the other way around.”
“Because I believe Barbara stole the Blackstone Rose. Maybe she approached Howard for financial help with the baby, maybe she even threatened to blackmail him. Whatever, we’ll never know for sure. But if I’m right, and all the evidence points that way, she must have broken down the necklace and, when the heat died down over its disappearance, sold the central diamond.”
“Evidence? Have you recovered the last diamond?”
He quickly explained about the trip to Tahiti and buying the stone back from Temana Sullivan.
“Maybe selling just the one stone gave her enough that she never needed to sell the others. Or maybe she found the whole process too risky, the danger of being exposed too high, that she didn’t attempt it again.”
“This is all too much to take in at once. Matt, are you absolutely certain?” She sounded shaken.
“As certain as I can be. The Blackstones hold the proof that Howard and Marise are father and daughter, and they’re not prepared to release that into the public domain. As to Barbara and the necklace, we know she was at Ursula’s birthday party that night, and from Marise’s date of birth we also know that Barbara was pregnant at the time. You know how she loved and protected you girls. She’d have fought Howard for what she believed was her daughter’s right. And to avoid raising any questions, or create any disparity between you two, she’d have made sure that whatever Marise got you also received.”
“Do you think Dad knew?” Briana whispered.
“I doubt it. He might have had his suspicions, but really, without the kind of proof we have today, he wouldn’t have known for sure.” Matt wondered briefly whether Ray Davenport might not have had some inkling about the affair, and whether that inkling had been a contributing factor to his embezzlement of Howard Blackstone’s private account. But he pushed the idea from his mind. If Ray had been driven by revenge, he would never have been so adamant about returning the funds. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s accepted the conviction but he’s not looking forward to the court sentencing date in October. All things considered, he’s holding up okay.”
“That’s good.” He hesitated a moment. “Do you want me to break the news to him about Marise and Howard?”
“No, I’ll do it. It’ll be a hell of a blow to him. I think it’d be better coming from me.”
“There’s one other thing.” Matt clenched his jaw, fearful of Briana’s reaction to the next bit of news. In one breath he told her about moving Marise’s remains to the Blackstone plot.
Briana was silent for several moments, then she finally spoke. “It’s going to raise all sorts of questions, stir up the waters all over again. As much as Marise would probably have preferred it that way, do we really want to get back on that media merry-go-round?”
“You’re right. Marise would have preferred it. As I said before, there’ll be no public announcement about Howard being her father.” Matt hesitated a moment, anger rising to bubble just below the surface at the reminder of the Blackstones’ attempt at manipulating his takeover attempt.
“I think we should accept the offer.” Briana interrupted his thoughts, her voice suddenly firmer, more confident. “But, Matt, there’s something else I’d like to do. As much as I disagreed with you over it, I know you had your reasons for Marise’s private burial. This time I want all of us to have an opportunity to say goodbye to her properly, to remember how she was before she died. If you have no objections, I’d like to organise a memorial service to coincide with her reburial.”
Matt considered her request. He’d been so full of anger back in January that he’d wanted her funeral over and done with. He was no less angry now, although it was better controlled, better directed.
A startling new thought surfaced in his mind. In itself, the memorial service would negate Kim, Ryan and Jake’s withholding of the DNA results unless he withdrew from the takeover.
A grim, satisfied smile pulled at Matt’s lips. He had them over a barrel. They couldn’t deny or control Briana’s right to say farewell to her sister with a proper funeral. He could both make it up to Briana and ensure he continued to have control over Kim and her brothers. Public announcement or not, the media would draw its own c
onclusions about Howard and Marise.
“Yeah, okay. Do what you need to do and let me know. Blake and I will be there.”
“Thank you, Matt. You won’t regret it. It’ll give us all closure.”
Briana’s conciliatory tone washed over him in a wave of compassion. But she was wrong. Closure was still some distance away and would remain so while Howard Blackstone’s influence still hung over Matt like the Damocles sword.
Matt had made an interesting discovery in the past few days. The solicitor’s letter accompanying Marise’s demand for the divorce and full custody of Blake had come from none other than the same firm retained almost solely by the Blackstones—giving weight to Matt’s belief that Howard had been behind Marise’s request to dissolve their marriage all along.
Matt would have his final revenge, one way or another.
Rachel held on tight to Blake’s hand as they left the Sydney memorial service, but his lower lip started to quiver as the barrage of photographers rent the air around them with flashing bulbs of light. She scooped him up into her arms, turning his face into her shoulder. Inside she was seething that Matt could subject his son to this after all the months they’d struggled to keep Blake secure from the public eye.
She made a dash for the black stretch limousine, Matt at her side, one arm protectively around his son. Inside the warm confines of the limousine she baled Matt up with a furious glare.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“Rachel, you overestimate my ability to control the media if you think I could prevent them finding out about Marise’s memorial service.” Matt sat back in his seat opposite her, his grey eyes like flint as he fielded her anger.
“You know you could have done something. Why put Blake through all this? And having your PR people make that paternity statement just yesterday was underhanded even for you.”
Blake had turned in his seat next to his father and was up on his knees staring out the back window at the procession of similar black luxury vehicles behind them for the long, slow journey to the Rookwood Cemetery.
Jealousy & a Jewelled Proposition Page 10