Her stomach contracted and goosebumps peaked on her skin. He sounded as if he really meant it, as if he had some dirt he was waiting to fling over her and Jed.
She couldn’t think what. He was the one who had plenty to hide. Nevertheless, it had to be dealt with. She didn’t want him even trying to make trouble. She and Jed already had enough of that on their hands.
‘We can’t talk here,’ she said with sharp aggravation. Talking to him at all was the last thing she wanted, but she had to find out what was on his sneaky mind so she could do something about it.
‘Now you’re being sensible, babe.’
There’d been a time when his slight cockney accent had fascinated her. Now she felt nothing. ‘So give me your number and I’ll call you back,’ she instructed coldly. She’d have to drive back to the village and use the public call box. She could make the excuse that she’d forgotten something. It was a damned nuisance, because she’d meant to spend what was left of the afternoon making herself look good for Jed, planning what she’d say to him.
She scrabbled around in the drawer of the table for paper and something to write with, but he derided, ‘You think I’m stupid, or something? Meet me at the end of hubby’s fancy drive in fifteen minutes.’
So he was close. That close?
For the first time she felt scared. When she’d married him all those years ago she’d thought she knew him. One year on she’d discovered she hadn’t known him at all. Who knew what evil retaliation he had in his mind?
She glanced at her watch. No way would she let him know he was beginning to worry her. ‘Make it an hour,’ she said firmly, and tried not to shake.
‘Why? So you can call in the cavalry?’
‘No, because it suits me.’
She replaced the receiver decisively and leant against the table, waiting for her heartbeats to steady. In one hour’s time Catherine would be resting in her room, something she always did because, as she said, she was sixty years old and entitled to pamper herself.
And Edith would have come over from the converted stable-block she and her husband had occupied for years to begin preparing the special dinner they’d planned to welcome Jed home.
Dinner was always at eight at Netherhaye, so Jed was unlikely to be arriving before seven. ‘Around dinner time,’ he’d said.
That gave her plenty of time to get rid of Liam and make sure he didn’t come back.
Exactly one hour later her confidence had haemorrhaged away, and the winding, tree-lined drive seemed endless, her legs feeling uncomfortably shaky, as if they might give way under her at any moment.
Liam Forrester’s pleasure was Liam Forrester’s main preoccupation. He liked to have a good time, liked fast cars, high living, was happy to cheat and steal to get what he wanted. Being behind bars would not have made him a happy man.
And her evidence had put him there.
As Liam stepped out from beneath the trees she suppressed a cry of alarm. She refused to let him see any sign of fear.
He swept his eyes over her casually clothed body, making her skin crawl. ‘You could do with a bit of glitz, and I’d never let you wear trousers—you’ve got fabulous legs. But you look good. Success suits you.’
Prison hadn’t suited him. It was almost a shock to see how he’d altered. His blond hair had dulled to an ashy brown and looked unkempt, he’d grown a paunch, and the once sharp dresser was now wearing stained, shabby black trousers and a cheap imitation leather jacket.
‘How did you know where I was?’
The question was forced from her. Her life when she’d been married to him seemed so long ago. He was the part of her past she’d wanted to expunge from her memory; she had almost forgotten his existence.
‘Easy. I’ve been following your career with interest. Not much else to do in the nick but read the papers. And plan how I’d catch up with you one day and see you shared your success with me—like I shared mine with you once upon a time. Trouble was, I read you lived somewhere in Spain, so when I got out I couldn’t get my hands on you.’
He stepped closer. He’d put on weight and looked big and threatening. The lane that passed the end of the drive was rarely used. Anything could happen.
He saw the fear in her eyes and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not daft enough to wring the neck of the golden goose! I reckon fate’s on my side for once. It was a stroke of luck seeing that piece in the paper about you winning that award. I just needed to hang around, follow you down here, book into the village pub and ask a few questions.’
The blue Escort, she thought tiredly. And questions. ‘You phoned earlier pretending to be a journalist,’ she stated.
He grinned, and for the first time she caught a fleeting echo of the good-looking, easy-on-the-eye charmer he had been when she’d first met him.
All her girlfriends had been deeply envious of the way he’d pursued her so single-mindedly. If only they had known what he really was they would have pitied her instead. If only she hadn’t been so flattered, so dazzled, naively incapable of seeing the real man behind the façade.
‘Talkative woman, your mother-in-law. I even got the address of your Spanish home,’ he boasted. ‘I quite fancy lazing around on a Costa, drinking sangria in the sun, but for the time being ten thou will do. In cash. Tomorrow. Same time, same place. Or else.’
She glared at him, appalled. There had to be a way out of this nightmare, she thought wildly. The police? If she took out an injunction to make him stay away from her would that apply in Spain, or would she also have to go through the Spanish courts?
Jed, she thought weakly. Oh, if only he were here! He would know what to do.
She swung on her heels, heading back for the house. Liam was out of his head if he thought she’d hand over that kind of money and then sit back and wait until he came and asked for more!
If he’d shown some remorse for his crimes, said he was on his uppers and trying to go straight, then she would have gladly given him something to help him get on his feet again and find honest work. But this—this was extortion with menaces! He would never change.
‘Don’t walk away from me!’ His hand grabbed her arm before she’d gone two paces. There was brutal violence in his voice now and she stood very still, hardly daring to breathe. She couldn’t bear him touching her, wanted to shake him off, but didn’t dare provoke him.
‘That’s better.’ He sounded calmer now, and he said with a honeyed sweetness that sent shivers down her spine, ‘I can spin a good yarn, too, honeybunch. You don’t have a monopoly. It would be a real cracker in the hands of a top journalist. Given the type of publicity you get, the tabloids would pay well for the skeleton in your cupboard. Married to a common criminal, enjoying all the goodies—which of your readers is going to believe you didn’t have a part in it? Or at the very least know what was going on, where all that extra money was coming from, and fully condone it?
‘Dirt sticks, sweetie-pie. It would cause a small sensation, but just imagine what it could do if the more sober broadsheets picked it up.’ His fingers tightened on her arm as he bent and whispered in her ear. ‘Your husband’s an establishment guy; he heads an awesome establishment-type business. The customers for his fabulous gems come from the very top social drawer. There’s many a royal lady wearing something fabulous from Nolan’s. Bit of a slur on the revered family name to have it coupled with a woman with that kind of past, wouldn’t you say?
‘The nobs just might start buying their platinum and diamond knick-knacks from one or other of his highfalutin’ rivals.’ He jerked her closer. ‘So pay up, or, as I said——take the consequences.’
He pulled her even closer, intimately close. And she could do nothing about it. All the stuffing had been knocked out of her. He meant it, all of it. He’d get the money one way or another.
In the light of the publicity surrounding her recent acceptance of that prestigious award the seamier tabloids would pay top dollar for his story, his warped allegations, disregarding the
fact that there might not be any truth in them because stuff like that sold papers.
People liked to see other people get to the top, but they liked it better when they saw them knocked right back down again!
She could handle it for herself, but she couldn’t let Jed and the Nolan gem empire be smothered in that kind of slimy publicity. She couldn’t let that happen to him.
‘You can have your money,’ she said bitterly, hating having to give way but having no choice. ‘I don’t have that amount in my UK account. But we’re going back to Spain tomorrow. I can get my hands on it there and send—’
‘I’ll give you three days.’ He stuck his face inches from hers. ‘And I’ll come to Spain and pick it up in person. No cheques in the post, nothing traceable. Cash. I know where to find you, remember.’ He pushed his face closer. ‘Is your phone unlisted?’
She shook her head, trying to draw back. He wouldn’t let her.
‘Good. I’ll call you. Tell you when and where to meet me.’
The scrunch of tyres on the gravelled surface of the drive had Liam pulling his face out of hers, turning his head. Elena felt weak with relief. Being so close to him had made her feel nauseous and dizzy. But she would rather collapse in a heap than cling onto the foul blackmailer. Only when she heard the expensive clunk of the Jaguar’s door did she fully understand what was happening.
Frantically forcing her brain to function, she turned. Jed had returned hours earlier than expected. She didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry.
Sorry, she supposed sinkingly, as she looked into his hard, expressionless face. Wearing the dark grey trousers of a business suit, his white shirt tie-less, open at the neck, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, he looked gorgeous. But quelling.
‘I guess you must be husband Mark Two.’ It was Liam who broke the heavy silence. He advanced, cast an appreciative eye over the gleaming car, extended his hand, which Jed ignored, and aimed for a clipped public school accent but failed. ‘I’m Mark One. For your sake, old boy, I hope she doesn’t do the dirty on you like she did on me. But don’t put money on it.’
His hand dropped back to his side. ‘Well, if you’re not going to invite me in for drinkies, I’ll be on my way.’ He shrugged, stuffed both hands in the pockets of his disreputable trousers and swaggered away. Then he turned, his smile malicious. ‘Take a tip from me, old boy. With that woman around you’d better learn to watch your back.’
CHAPTER TEN
‘WHAT was he doing here?’
Jed looked at her with narrowed eyes. The afternoon sun was hot, but Elena shivered. He was looking at her with cold suspicion when she’d wanted to see the beginnings of the trust and understanding he’d hinted at in last night’s telephone conversation.
Liam had ruined his homecoming.
‘Asking for hand-outs,’ she told him, setting her jaw, because if she let herself relax her teeth would start to rattle with nervous tension. She knew she couldn’t tell him the whole truth about her ex-husband’s successful blackmail attempt because Jed would insist on calling his bluff, contacting the police, and then those smears and allegations would end up in the tabloids. She couldn’t let that happen.
It might, as Liam had threatened, actually harm his business, not to mention his reputation, and even if it didn’t, seeing his wife’s name smeared in the gutter press would hurt his pride. He’d take it on the chin, but he’d find it deeply distasteful.
‘What for?’ he asked tightly. ‘The price of a pint? New clothes—he looked as if he could use them! Or more? Was it more, Elena?’
‘Of course.’ She hadn’t been able to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She could have said, Just something to tide him over while he looks for work—something to take the steam out of the situation. But she hated having to lie to Jed, even by leaving things unsaid.
He caught her tone. Of course he did. ‘And did you give it to him? The way you were folded round each other when I turned into the drive suggests you might have done. He looked remarkably pleased with himself, and you looked as if you weren’t averse to reliving old times.’
From his viewpoint it could have looked that way. She had to give him that, she conceded miserably. Yet she couldn’t tell him what had really been happening. She shuffled her feet in the gravel, realised what she was doing, how guilty and embarrassed the childish action would make her look, and stopped, pushed her hands into the pockets of her trousers and shrugged.
‘Hardly that. Old times with Liam are something I’d prefer to forget. I certainly wouldn’t want to relive a second of them. And how could I give him anything, even if I’d wanted to? I’ve only got pin money with me, and I couldn’t write a cheque because my UK account is as good as empty.’
She’d only kept it going because it had been handy to have something to draw on when she visited the UK for meetings with her agent and publisher. Since coming over for Sam’s funeral and her wedding, and now the awards, she’d practically cleaned it out
He seemed to accept that, but probed ruthlessly, ‘Did you tell him where to find you?’
‘Of course not!’ Did he think she’d kept in touch with Liam, perhaps even met up with him after his release from prison? That made her very angry. How could he think she’d do that and, worse, keep it from him?
He acknowledged her flare of anger with a dip of his head, his narrowed eyes not leaving her face, as if he was looking for the truth and couldn’t find it. ‘Then I’m to take it that his appearance at Netherhaye was a wondrous coincidence, an unlooked-for opportunity on his part to ask you for money,’ he said, with a dryness that set her teeth on edge.
By the way her skin was burning she knew her face had turned brick-red. Fury, frustration and resentment coiled her insides into a tight knot. Just when she and Jed might have had a chance to work through their problems and find each other again, when he might have learned to love and trust her once more, Liam had swaggered along and driven an even bigger wedge between them.
‘Can’t we forget the creep?’ she asked impulsively. ‘I had nothing at all to do with him being here. He followed us down, apparently. He’d read about the award ceremony and thought I’d be a soft touch. He phoned earlier and suggested we meet. Believe me, I didn’t want to, but I agreed because I didn’t want him hanging around, making a nuisance of himself.’
She couldn’t tell him any more. She hoped to heaven what she had told him would be enough, that he’d put the whole nasty episode out of his mind. And it seemed her prayers had been answered, because he opened the car on the passenger side and held the door for her. ‘Get in. You might as well ride up to the house with me.’
And when he joined her and turned on the ignition his tone was the same, cool and distant. ‘I take it Catherine’s having her afternoon nap? Ask Edith to bring a tray of tea out onto the terrace, would you? I could do with a reviver before I shower.’
That careful politeness set the tone for the remainder of the afternoon and evening. It was as if, she thought as she tried to do justice to Edith’s delicious marinated salmon steaks, served with baby new potatoes fresh from the garden and spicy ratatouille, his mind was functioning smoothly on the surface while sorting through the ramifications of the scene he’d come upon with her and Liam.
She risked a look at him as she sipped her iced spring water. He looked so darned controlled. Too controlled? Would his emotions burst through, blowing them both away?
‘Now, neither of you must worry about me,’ Catherine said when Edith had cleared the used plates and dishes. Jed had already told her they’d be leaving early next morning to catch the flight to Jerez—told her in that same calm, dispassionate voice. ‘I expect Susan to arrive any day. Apparently she’s a knock-out on the sewing machine—so we’ll measure up for curtains, take a trip into town and choose the fabric. We’re going to be so busy! So make the most of the rest of your honeymoon and don’t give me a second thought.’
‘Talking of which, I’ll go and sort out the documents dealin
g with the lease on the property in Seville.’ Jed turned his soulless smile on Catherine. ‘And, no, I won’t spend most of the time working.’ He declined the fresh strawberries and helped himself to coffee, taking it with him, and Elena knew it was an excuse to leave them, to do his thinking without having to make polite conversation.
‘I haven’t had a chance to say anything to him about the baby,’ Catherine confessed mournfully, helping herself to the berries. ‘I did try to start a conversation before you came down for dinner, lead up to it gently, but he put on that remote face and froze me off.’ She put down her spoon. ‘I’m worried about him, Elena.’
‘Don’t be.’ Said with more confidence than she felt. ‘I get the feeling Jed can cope with anything life throws at him.’ Her certainty of that went bone-deep. But after the scene with Liam would his form of coping revert to what it had been? The total blanking off, cutting her out of his heart with surgical precision?
She didn’t think she could bear that, not after being so sure he was on the point of breaking through to an understanding of the events that had led to her pregnancy, and through that understanding learning to forgive her—and Sam.
Liam had done more harm than he would ever know.
‘I can’t help worrying, it being Sam’s baby—’
‘Try not to,’ Elena soothed. Suddenly the stresses of the day caught up with her, draining her energy. She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, and only come out when all the bad things had gone away. ‘You’ ll have your chance to talk to him—about the baby, and his and his brother’s childhood—soon enough. Right now he’s working things out for himself. He needs space.’ She finished her coffee and pushed herself tiredly to her feet. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go and pack. I might see you later, if I don’t fall asleep first! And if you see Edith before I do, tell her from me the meal was perfect’
Packing for them both took next to no time. Elena looked at the big double bed and wondered if Jed would join her. Pointless wondering when in her heart she knew he wouldn’t.
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