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by Penny Jordan


  After all, why should she feel apprehensive…? Apprehensive… She laughed bitterly to herself; sick with fear would be a more accurate description of her feelings. Not that she intended to allow him to see it. Hateful man. No, he was the one who should be suffering, not her.

  She even toyed with the idea of purposely disappearing for the afternoon, but acknowledged this was a cowardly and pointless exercise. She was not playing a point-scoring game against the man. All she wanted was for the situation to be sorted out and the truth revealed so that she could get on with her life and her business, without his unwarranted threats hanging over her.

  When after lunch Susan Fielding called round to ask importantly if Lucy would like to go back to her house with her so that they could both watch her daddy making her new stencil, Tania was almost relieved to see her daughter go. Not because she didn’t want her company, but she certainly did not want her on hand to witness any confrontation between herself and James Warren.

  When three-thirty came and went without any sign of him she told herself with relief that Nicholas must have revealed the truth and, like the bully that he undoubtedly was, James was too embarrassed by his own error to come round and acknowledge the wrong he had done her.

  Well, that suited her fine. The last thing she wanted was to see him again. She still felt inwardly bruised and battered from their previous meeting.

  It was just gone four o’clock. She was just about to sit down and make herself a cup of tea to wash down the tablets her still-aching head demanded when she heard the shop doorbell ring.

  Immediately she knew who it was, but, even knowing, couldn’t stop the tension invading her stomach as she walked towards the door and saw James Warren standing on the other side of it.

  For a moment she was tempted to leave it locked, but then she noticed that one of her neighbours was watching curiously from the opposite side of the road and so reluctantly she unlocked the door and stepped to one side so that he could walk in.

  ‘Very sensible,’ was his jeering comment as he followed her inside. ‘Well?’ he demanded closing the door behind him. ‘I do hope you’ve made the right decision, because, as I warned you yesterday, I am not prepared to stand by and watch you destroy my sister’s marriage.’

  Tania stared at him, and then her heart sank. Nicholas hadn’t told him the truth—either that or he had told him and he had simply chosen not to believe her.

  Tightening her lips, she told him coolly, ‘There is no decision for me to make, since I am not having an affair either with your brother-in-law or with anyone else. I don’t have affairs, Mr Warren, and, especially, I don’t have affairs with married men.’

  ‘No?’ His eyebrows rose, his voice dripping with cynicism as he retorted, ‘I might be more inclined to believe you if you hadn’t already provided the proof of your own dishonesty by the fact that you have an illegitimate child, father unknown—or so you apparently claim.’

  The cruelty of it, the sheer ruthless brutality left her breathless and speechless, her shocked expression alone betraying to him just how much damage his words were doing.

  When her frozen vocal cords relaxed enough for her to reply to him, she did so as unemotionally as she could, her voice low and uneven as she told him, ‘Lucy was conceived when I was eighteen years old. A very foolish eighteen years old. Eighteen-year-olds can sometimes be foolish and naïve. Unfortunately, when they’re female, that folly can often have consequences that affect the rest of their lives.’ She ached to be able to throw in his face her knowledge that his own precious sister had been carrying a child before she married Nicholas, but she told herself that she was not going to demean herself, that she was not going to lower herself to his level, and, as she held her head high and stared bitterly at him, she had the satisfaction of seeing him frown and check before he smiled dangerously at her.

  He said softly, ‘I see. Nicholas has been doing a lot of unburdening of himself to you, hasn’t he? What is it exactly that you’re after, Ms Carter? His money? Without my backing, without the business I put his way, he’d barely scrape a living. His lifestyle? Again, without my help he couldn’t afford that lifestyle.’

  His cynicism stunned her and she reacted to it instinctively, demanding huskily, ‘Couldn’t it simply be Nicholas himself that I want? Just because your precious sister seems to hold him in such contempt, it doesn’t mean that I feel the same. In fact, I can’t imagine why she’s involved you in this at all. After all, she’s scarcely been giving the impression of a devoted wife, has she? It seems common knowledge that she prefers your company to her husband’s, that it’s to you that she turns for advice, for companionship, and, of course, for money,’ she added sweetly.

  She had the pleasure of seeing his whole face harden with rage and distaste as he listened to her taunts.

  He didn’t like what she was saying to him; he didn’t like it one little bit, but then why should he expect to be able to stand there and insult her as much as he wished, without her doing a single thing to retaliate? Let him see how he liked being insulted, being accused, being humiliated.

  ‘What exactly is it you’re implying?’ he demanded savagely, so savagely that immediately Tania panicked, fear swamping her as he took a step towards her. She could see the violence in his eyes, feel it in the heat coming off his body.

  ‘I’m not implying anything,’ she told him shakily. ‘Nor am I relying on one person’s idiotic assumptions and mistaken beliefs to make accusations which are totally false. The whole town knows that your precious sister looks not to her husband but to her brother, that she constantly humiliates Nicholas by comparing him to you. If he is looking for affection, for warmth, for love outside his marriage then I doubt that anyone would be surprised.’

  ‘So that’s your justification, is it? It’s all Clarissa’s fault. Have you forgotten that they have two children, two children who need both their father and their mother?’

  ‘Just as my daughter needs two parents,’ Tania hurled back at him.

  ‘Well, with my ten thousand you’ll probably be able to buy yourself a man,’ he told her cruelly. ‘You are going to accept it, aren’t you?’

  Tania stared at him.

  ‘No,’ she told him through clenched teeth. ‘No, I am not and what’s more I wouldn’t accept it if you added another nought to the end and made it one hundred thousand pounds.’

  ‘One hundred thousand. My God, is that your price? Well, let me tell you—’

  ‘No, let me tell you,’ Tania interrupted him furiously. ‘You come in here, threatening me, bullying me, accusing me. I am not having an affair with Nicholas. And if you don’t believe me try asking him.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he told her flatly. ‘And as for asking Nick… Well, for your information that was one of the first things I did after I had managed to calm Clarissa’s hysterics. Have you any idea what you’re doing to my sister? Have you any idea of how delicately balanced her nervous system is? She’s always been highly strung, vulnerable where her emotions are concerned.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll bet,’ Tania muttered under her breath, causing him to break off and glare at her.

  ‘And just what is that supposed to mean?’

  Tania had gone way beyond the bounds of common sense or caution now.

  ‘It means,’ she told him bitingly, ‘that your precious stepsister is one of the most convincing, most machiavellian women I have ever met. And as for her nerves, my bet is that they’re made out of reinforced steel.

  ‘If she’s so desperately concerned about her marriage, why doesn’t she try behaving like Nicholas’s wife? Or is it that both of you prefer the present status quo, where she’s married to Nicholas, but where in reality you’re the most important man in her life?’

  Immediately she realised she had gone too far. His mouth went white with rage, his eyes so dark they were almost black.

  ‘My God! How dare you make such a filthy accusation? You… You talk about Clarissa being conniving, when y
ou can sling as much mud as you like, but none of it obscures the fact that you have deliberately set out to destroy my sister’s marriage and one way or another I intend to make damn sure you pay for that.’

  * * *

  Tania couldn’t believe that he had gone as she sagged against the wall in relief. Her body ached as though it had been kicked, the pounding in her head had reached a sickly crescendo, and her heart was beating so fast she thought she might actually start to hyperventilate.

  Calm down, she warned herself, calm down. He’s gone…it’s over. He’s gone…

  True, he had threatened her, accused her, frightened her…but what, after all, could he do? She wasn’t having an affair with Nicholas. She wasn’t having an affair with anyone.

  She remembered the insults he had hurled at her and a wave of sickness overwhelmed her.

  The stigma attached to Lucy’s birth was something she had come to terms with long ago. Most people—the only people she considered worth knowing—were far too generous, far too kind, far too aware to either ask questions about Lucy’s birth or to make assumptions.

  And she was not the kind to make confidences, to explain or excuse herself. She had made a simple error of judgement. She had looked for love and found only lust. She had behaved foolishly, irresponsibly, but she had been very young, very naïve, and, from the viewpoint of eleven years on, she could feel only compassion and sorrow for the girl she had been then.

  If James Warren chose to revile her for that childhood mistake, that error of judgement which had led to Lucy’s conception, then let him. It only confirmed her view that he was simply not a man she cared to know, and, one day, she promised herself, she would give him the pleasure of telling him so.

  She after all had as much right to live in this town as he. Her roots—or at least those connected with her great-aunt’s predecessors—were buried deep here too.

  Her inheritance, her new business…these were her chances to make a better life for Lucy and herself and she intended to do just that. Nothing, no one—much less a man like James Warren—was going to prevent her from doing so.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘NERVOUS?’

  Tania gave Ann Fielding a tense smile.

  ‘Yes. Does it show?’

  ‘Only a little,’ Ann reassured her.

  In precisely half an hour’s time she would be opening the shop doors to the small but important gathering of local dignitaries and media people who had been invited to the pre-opening cocktail party which Ann had insisted was de rigueur if her business was to gain the maximum support and publicity.

  She had objected that the cost of such an exercise must surely outweigh its benefits but Ann had overruled her firmly, insisting that it was essential.

  She certainly hoped it would prove a worthwhile investment. Nicholas had laughed at her when he’d discovered she intended to prepare the refreshments herself.

  ‘Why not have them catered?’ he had suggested. ‘Clarissa uses a very good local firm.’ This apparently consisted of two girls she had gone to school with who had set up in business doing business lunches, dinner parties and the like, but Tania had shaken her head, protesting that it would be a wasteful extravagance.

  When Ann Fielding had learned what she was intending to do she had fully approved.

  ‘Why don’t you let me give you a hand?’ she suggested. ‘I did a cordon bleu course in the early days of our marriage, before Tom persuaded me that my artistic talents would be of more use setting up the shop, and advising our customers on their décor.’

  She said it with a grin, but Tania wasn’t deceived. Ann was very artistically talented indeed and Tania had marvelled at her interior design skills when she had first been shown round their home. She was not surprised that Tom found his wife a very valuable asset when it came to adding those all-important decorative touches to a client’s colour scheme.

  It had been Ann who had gently suggested her present window dressing, adding that she knew just the place where they could find suitable birch branches, which later on could be sprayed with mock ‘snow’ for Christmas and decorated with masks for Halloween.

  Now, Tania surveyed the buffet ‘table’, which in reality comprised a couple of trestles and some planks borrowed from Tom, covered in a pair of old sheets to disguise them, with home-made garlands of dried flowers decorating the table front, their colours in keeping with the rich autumn shades of her stock.

  Cleverly Ann had even suggested food on a similar colour theme, laughing at Tania’s awe, and explaining gently, ‘You’ll soon learn. Especially when you discover how much cheaper it is to do these things yourself rather than hire an expensive window dresser, and eye-appeal does make all the difference. I couldn’t believe the number of commissions we got one spring when I decorated our main window as a nursery complete with hand-painted mobiles and nursery rhyme scenes painted on the walls. It was one of our most adventurous schemes, and one that brought in the most profit.

  ‘Never underestimate the amount of money parents are prepared to spend on their children, especially when it comes to doing the right thing for their future health and development, and then, of course, at Christmas you’re bound to have plenty of doting aunts and grannies who just can’t resist buying their little darlings a pair of patent shoes or some cute little baseball boots.’

  Ann was undoubtedly very shrewd and practical when it came to retailing and Tania was grateful for all the help she was giving her, but even so she could not bring herself to confide in her new friend and admit what had happened with James Warren.

  Was it because of her habitual and instinctive need to remain independent, a need that sprang from a very real fear that once she gave in to the need to lean on someone else, no matter how briefly, she would never again be able to find the strength to stand alone; or was it because she was afraid that Ann might not believe her?

  Uncomfortable with such deep and potentially destructive thoughts, she tried to concentrate on the buffet table.

  A glass of wine, something to eat that had more eye-appeal than actual substance, the feeling that people were privileged to be asked to attend her opening, these were the things that would make her pre-opening party a success with her guests and guarantee her the extra publicity she needed, Ann told her, and certainly looking at her stock-room, for this evening transformed with clever shadowed lighting and the discreet hanging of various fabrics into a cosy ‘drawing-room’, there was no reason why the evening should not be a success.

  Ann had even persuaded her to buy herself a new dress for the occasion; a ridiculous extravagance but one which Ann assured her would more than pay for itself.

  Another important tip, she had insisted, when she had dragged Tania off to the town’s small exclusive parade of boutiques, calmly depositing her own children and Lucy in Tom’s care.

  ‘Look rich when you’re poor. It’s essential. Only the rich can afford to dress badly and look shabby. Here,’ she had added, removing a dress from one of the rails, ‘try this.’

  When Tania had eyed what looked like little more than a tubular hand of golden bronze stretch jersey with distaste and doubt, Ann had laughed at her and insisted, ‘It will look wonderful on you, believe me. I know. And the colour is just right both for your colouring and for the season.’

  Much to Tania’s astonishment, Ann had been proved right. The jersey, once on, had proved to have a simple elegance that justified its exorbitant price ticket.

  ‘You’ll more than get your money’s worth out of it,’ Ann had promised her. ‘Once the season gets into full swing, you’ll find you’ll be wearing it again and again.’

  ‘The season?’ Tania had queried, perplexed.

  ‘The dinner party season,’ Ann had explained, with a grin. ‘We’re a sociable lot round here. We have to be, after all. It’s up to us to provide our own entertainment. Apart from the local Chamber of Commerce affairs which you’ll be invited to attend, there’ll be a whole host of small dinner parties, p
lus larger more casual affairs for Halloween, Bonfire Night. You mention it, we celebrate it.’

  ‘Oh, but I couldn’t. Lucy…’

  ‘Lucy can sleep over with Susan,’ Ann had told her cheerfully, sweeping aside her objections. ‘Tom’s sister’s eldest girl is studying for A levels and glad of all the baby-sitting money she can get. She’s a sensible girl, too. Not the kind you’d fear to leave with even the smallest child.’

  * * *

  ‘Mmm. I’m glad you went ahead and got the earrings,’ Ann commented now, studying Tania’s appearance. ‘That brief glint of gold when you move your head just sets off the rest of your appearance. Not to mention the fact that it adds a very glamorous touch of mystery and allure.

  ‘I suspect you’ll find more than one father is going to be escorting his offspring into your shop over the next few weeks.’

  She stopped laughing when she saw Tania’s expression, touching her arm lightly, ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m not interested in married men. I never have been and I never will be,’ Tania told her shortly, adding, almost under her breath, ‘In fact I’m not interested in men, period.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Of course I never meant to imply—’

  ‘Oh, it’s all right,’ Tania told her. ‘I’m just feeling a bit raw and sensitive at the moment.’ She bit her lip, wondering if perhaps after all she should not confide in Ann and ask her advice, but then Susan and Lucy came bustling into the room, eyeing the buffet table enviously.

  Ann said firmly, ‘Now, you two, you both know we’ve made up special plates of treats for your supper provided you both behave well, and stay upstairs.’

  ‘Yes, and I’m going to sleep in Lucy’s bedroom tonight, aren’t I? I’m going to sleep in the top bunk because I’m the eldest,’ Susan announced importantly. ‘And I’m going to help Lucy think up a stencil for Daddy to make for her.’

 

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