by Shirley Wine
But be honest, Logan’s interference has ensured I reconnect with my Seth … and before he marries his ice maiden.
‘I hope Piper gives you hell,’ she muttered under her breath as Logan leaned past her and opened the door into the breakfast room. ‘At least you won’t suffer genital frostbite.’
Logan’s choke of laughter preceded them into the room.
Caine strode to meet them. ‘Victoria, I must apologise for that disgraceful scene. It won’t happen again.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ She extended a hand and touched his, warmed by his concern.
‘Come and have breakfast.’ Caine led the way to the sideboard where the buffet awaited.
Logan hovered at her elbow as she selected bacon and tomato from the hot plates. Breakfast in hand, Victoria turned and saw Piper beckoning to her. With a relieved sigh she slipped into the vacant chair beside the younger woman, Logan on her other side.
‘Did you give her a black eye?’ Piper looked ridiculously hopeful.
Victoria muffled a laugh, her spirits lifting, and the dread of facing the other house guests vanished.
Breakfast was an informal, relaxed affair and Victoria enjoyed the witty, adult company she so often craved. A hush descended when Keir entered the breakfast room. He crossed to Victoria’s side, his expression impassive. Was he about to rehash that ugly scene?
When everyone studiously averted their gazes, Victoria wished she could vanish into thin air. She managed a quivering breath as she struggled for calm.
‘I’m sorry.’ He gripped her shoulder, his hand warm and steady. ‘I was out of order. Davina has also asked me to relay her apologies.’
I’ll just bet she did.
‘Apology accepted.’ Victoria turned away to speak to Piper, and to her relief, Keir moved away to the buffet to serve himself breakfast.
Normal conversation resumed and she exhaled a shaky breath. With studious care, she never once allowed her glance to stray in Keir’s direction. Her reaction to him was a risky time bomb.
Would any of them survive when it exploded?
Chapter Six
A somnolent air hung over the Darkhaven homestead in the late afternoon as the women retired to their rooms to prepare for the formal dinner and evening entertainment. The men were out on the estate with Logan and Caine, touring the stables and talking horses.
The Donovan family opened Darkhaven for high-profile events several times a year to raise money for charity. As long-time patrons of the arts, Caine Donovan and his wife were staunch supporters of local talent, and invitations to these events were coveted.
Tonight’s ‘Musical Soirée’ was raising funds for the Child Cancer Foundation.
It was a great cause, but Victoria was amused by the pretentious name of the event. The Donovan’s obviously couldn’t host anything as common as a ‘fundraiser’.
There was to be a guest speaker from the Child Cancer Foundation and later, The Tin Roof Toms were to entertain.
The pizzicato quartet was hugely popular.
Their brand of classical music where they plucked string instruments with guitar picks was quickly gaining a cult status. Victoria had been itching to attend one of their gigs, but their performances always seemed to clash either with Connor’s schedule or her own. The chance to hear them give a recital had influenced her decision to accept Logan’s invitation.
Victoria went to her room but was soon bored and restless. She found the dark green decor so damn oppressive, much preferring light, airy spaces. She resisted the impulse to rip the flower arrangement apart.
Again.
If she did, she’d probably crush the horrid artificial things beneath her shoes. Unable to bear being cooped up a moment longer, she decided to visit the library.
Logan had shown her the spacious room earlier when he’d taken her on a tour of the house.
‘Who’s the reader?’ she’d asked as she’d looked at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves crammed with books.
‘Dad. The library is his refuge. Mother enters by invitation only and never when he’s reading.’
‘Isn’t that a bit peculiar?’
‘Maybe, but Mother and Dad fight worse than Kilkenny cats.’ Logan grimaced and jammed his hands deep in his pockets. ‘Dad’s always reading, and books are just one more bone of contention between them.’
These observations only added to the baffling undercurrents she sensed in this house. Victoria turned her attention from the massive bookshelves crowded with books to the artwork on the walls and studied the abstract painting hanging above the huge South Island shale fireplace.
‘Who’s the art collector? There are some stunning paintings in this house.’
‘Dad.’ Logan stared moodily at the painting. ‘That’s a McIntyre and the one on the other wall is by Hotere.’
‘Caine also has a good eye for art.’
Now, as she entered the library with her sketchpad and pencils, Victoria recalled Logan’s comment about Muriel not invading Caine’s sanctuary and offered up a small prayer that the same would hold true for her. So far she’d avoided being cornered by Logan’s mother and with a little bit of luck it would stay that way. There was a light airiness to this room that was a stark contrast to the other rooms of the house. It seemed welcoming somehow.
She laughed at the absurd thought and selected some books on Renaissance art before curling up in a deep, leather armchair to read and make notes. A client wanted Victorian Grace to do the flowers for her medieval-themed spring wedding. Determined to outdo her best friend’s wedding, the bride wanted a pageant complete with troubadours.
The Donovan library was as good a place as any for Victoria to start researching the medieval period. Her concentration was broken when the library door opened.
Muriel Donovan entered. ‘Ms Scanlan, do you mind if I join you?’
‘It’s your home.’ Victoria put the books on a side table and stood, the sketchpad and pencils spilling onto the floor. She picked them up before sitting back down. ‘I’m making notes for flowers for a spring wedding I’ve been contracted to do. I have to confess that I envy you this library.’
She was babbling, but being cornered by this woman made her jittery.
Muriel sat in the chair opposite, her knees elegantly crossed and the skirt of her dress falling in graceful folds.
‘Just the library?’ she asked in a low, silky voice.
Victoria decided to meet Muriel’s animosity head on. ‘Logan and I are friends, Mrs Donovan, nothing more.’
‘Then why are you here?’ Muriel pleated the fabric of her skirt with restless fingers, clearly waiting for an answer.
‘Because Logan invited me. If my intention was to trap him and all this,’ Victoria waved an expressive hand at the well-stocked library, ‘I could have accepted any one of his proposals over the past two years.’
‘You don’t consider my son good enough for you?’
Oh boy. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
‘Logan has been a good friend to me and I value his friendship.’
‘Don’t misunderstand me. This situation is so puzzling.’
To you and me both.
‘Ask Logan.’ Victoria shrugged aside her discomfort. ‘He invited me here.’
‘I have. He’s always been a clam about his friends and you in particular.’
So he has his mother’s measure, and if I’m any judge, she’s not at all happy about being thwarted.
‘You can be proud of Logan.’ Victoria tried placating Logan’s mother, surprised by her own inconvenient sympathy. Muriel’s weekend house party had been hijacked by undercurrents of tension that set all the family on edge.
‘I am. My son’s happiness means everything, as does the harmony in my household.’
‘That’s understandable.’ As Victoria watched Muriel’s restless hand she couldn’t help wondering if Keir’s mother had cast a long shadow over this woman’s life.
‘I find it intolerable
that you’ve created friction between Logan and Keir. They’ve never argued until you walked through Darkhaven’s doors.’
Embarrassment sent a flood tide of scorching heat through Victoria. It was inevitable that Logan’s mother would hear about this morning’s fracas.
And both clashes involved me.
‘That was none of my doing.’
‘Maybe, but it was you who attacked another guest.’
Victoria rose from the chair and crossed the room before she turned to face Muriel. ‘Did your guest also mention that she threw some vile insults?’
‘Do you regard the truth as insulting?’
All sympathy for Muriel faded beneath shimmering anger, but Victoria refused to dignify such crassness with a response.
Muriel gave a disdainful sniff. ‘It’s taken more than a decade to heal the breach between Keir and his father. I won’t have it reopened.’
Victoria choked out a startled laugh, shaking her head. ‘I never caused the rift between Keir and his father. I suggest you look in the mirror.’
Slow, mottled colour crept up Muriel’s sallow skin. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t I?’ Victoria said in a low, deadly voice. ‘I didn’t lie to Keir and tell him his mother was dead. What were you and Caine thinking? Surely you must have known that sooner or later he’d learn that Elizabeth was very much alive?’
Muriel’s hand fisted in the fabric of her skirt. ‘That woman is not mentioned in my house.’
‘Why not? Caine openly discussed Keir’s mother with me.’
‘He what?’ Muriel demanded, anger sparking off her in waves. ‘It would have been better for everyone if the slut had died. But of course she never cooperated.’
Coldness shivered down Victoria’s spine. There’s nothing charming about Muriel.
‘Is that why you abused Keir, because he was Elizabeth’s child?’
‘I did not abuse Keir.’
‘Didn’t you?’ Victoria paced in front of the library windows. ‘I can understand your dislike of Caine’s first wife, but to hold this against an innocent child is unforgiveable.’
Muriel gave a scornful little laugh. ‘Has Keir been bleating?’
Victoria remained silent and this infuriated Muriel.
‘I want you gone from here, Ms Scanlan,’ she said in a voice that, for all its softness, was filled with venom.
Victoria managed a shallow breath, shaken by the woman’s hostility. ‘Why? I’m no threat to you.’
‘You’re one distraction Keir doesn’t need.’
Does she think I pose a threat to his marriage plans?
The ludicrous thought had Victoria stifling a choke of laughter, but Muriel’s reaction made her curious. ‘Keir may be CEO of Donovans, but he’s also very much a man and sure to be angry at your interference.’
The barb hit its target and Muriel flushed. ‘He should be grateful Davina is prepared to overlook the bad blood he inherited from his mother.’
Victoria caught her earlobe and waggled it. ‘Pardon?’
‘You heard.’
‘That’s strange. I’ve met Keir’s sister and found her a charming young woman.’
Muriel leaped out of her chair. ‘Shut the hell up.’
‘Why should I? Beth Courtney is as beautiful and gracious as her mother. The bad blood isn’t in that family, or Keir either.’
Hectic colour surged up Muriel’s face and neck and for one horrified moment Victoria thought the woman was about to have a stroke. Did no-one ever challenge Muriel’s outrageous and vicious slander?
‘I will not discuss this.’
‘Why? You brought the subject up, Mrs Donovan, not me.’ Victoria refused to back down or look away. ‘Do you resent Keir having sisters? Or do you consider it your mission to ensure his life is made miserable?’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t I?’ Victoria was unable to shake the image of a hurt, unhappy little boy with solemn brown eyes. ‘You’ve punished Keir all his life because his father once loved his mother.’
So why am I surprised he’s grown into a hard, embittered man?
‘You’re crazy.’
‘Me?’ Victoria gave a scornful laugh. ‘A match between Keir and Ms Strathmore is doomed, so why are you pushing it? What’s in it for you?’
Muriel went deathly pale. ‘Their wedding will go ahead and not even a money-hungry little trollop like you will get in the way.’
Shaken, Victoria wasn’t quite sure she understood. ‘Do you expect me to disappear from Keir’s life?’
‘Be realistic, Ms Scanlan.’ Muriel’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Don’t imagine Keir will toss aside a match with a Strathmore for a little floozy he had for a summer fling.’
Victoria took a slow, shallow breath that did little to lessen her anger. ‘It would suit you if I left, wouldn’t it?’
Muriel reached into her pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. ‘Leave now and I’ll give you this to sweeten your departure.’
With careful deliberation, Victoria studied the cheque with its appalling number of zeros, then looked directly at Muriel as she tore it in half and half again before opening her hands and letting the pieces flutter to the floor.
Muriel made a spluttering sound of shock.
‘I may not be rich, but I can’t be bought.’
‘I never suggested you could.’
‘Didn’t you?’ Victoria took a step closer until she was right in the other woman’s face. ‘And just so you understand me, even if Keir does marry Ms Strathmore he will maintain contact with me. I can guarantee this, if nothing else.’
Victoria knew as sure as she took her next breath that Keir would never ignore Connor once he knew of his son’s existence.
High spots of colour marked Muriel’s cheeks. ‘You’re immoral and unscrupulous.’
‘Am I? This smacks of a cosy scheme you’ve cooked up with Ms Strathmore.’ Victoria smiled, stooped and picked up the pieces of torn cheque. ‘I’m sure your son will be disgusted when I show him this.’
The woman let out a strangled gasp and snatched the torn paper from Victoria’s hand. ‘I don’t think so, Ms Scanlan.’
‘Is Ms Strathmore running scared?’
‘Of you? Not in this lifetime.’ Muriel gave a scornful laugh before turning on her heel and flouncing out of the room.
Victoria released a shuddering, pent-up breath and a shiver crawled across her skin.
My runaway tongue and I have just made one formidable enemy.
Chapter Seven
Keir stood near the back of the group of men as they walked into the well-appointed show barn of the Darkhaven stables. He wrinkled his nose as the pungent smell of horseflesh, straw and sawdust assaulted his senses, and memories he’d thought exorcised rose to taunt him.
He flat out hated the stables.
Hated horses.
Hated every brick and stone of Darkhaven.
So why in hell did I accept the invitation to visit?
Taller than most of the other men in the party, he leaned back against a support pillar and looked over their heads, watching Logan parade a black stallion around the show ring. With a jaundiced eye, he watched its high-stepping gait and the spirited way it tested Logan’s control.
‘Magnificent piece of horseflesh isn’t it?’
Startled, Keir glanced down and met the shrewd eyes of Dan Sinclair. Somehow he managed a non-committal grunt.
‘You still don’t like horses?’
That produced a thin smile. ‘Nothing much gets past you, does it?’
Logan’s uncle chuckled, his pale blue eyes almost disappearing in his creased, weather-beaten face. ‘Young Logan’s so much like his dad. Lester was crazy about horses. He died when Logan was a little tyke, took a nasty spill on the racetrack at Ellerslie in a steeple chase.’
This piqued Keir’s interest. ‘I never knew that.’
The old man gave him a me
asured glance. ‘I suspect there’s a whole heap of things about the past you don’t know.’
‘You won’t get any argument from me.’
Dan chewed on a straw, watching him. ‘You still at outs with Caine?’
Keir stiffened, not prepared to touch that subject, and wished the old man would turn his attention back to the horseflesh.
But Dan wasn’t finished and his calloused hand gripped Keir’s arm. ‘You had it rough as a young’un, but take a word of advice from someone who’s seen a lot more of life than you have. If you don’t ask the right questions, you won’t get the right answers.’
Keir frowned. Was the old man right?
‘Think on it, lad.’ Dan patted his arm before he ambled off to get closer to the heart of the action.
Lad? Keir smothered a derisive snort. It was a long time since he’d been anywhere close to being a lad.
‘I’m surprised you joined this group,’ Caine said quietly.
Startled by his father’s silent approach, Keir turned slightly. ‘Not much else to do around here.’
‘You could always saddle up and go for a ride.’
‘Sure. And wouldn’t your precious horses enjoy that?’
Caine winced and remorse slugged Keir in the gut.
‘Sorry, that was uncalled for.’ Keir looked at his father, surprised to see him looking all of his seventy years. Dark shadows etched bruises under his eyes.
Caine laid a hand on Keir’s arm. ‘No son, I’m the one who is sorry. More sorry than you’ll ever know.’
Discomforted by his father’s soft, sad words, Keir laid a hand on his father’s and for a moment the noise faded as they looked at each other. ‘It’s more than time we let the past go. I’m ready to move on.’
‘Are you? You sure about that, son?’ Caine stiffened and his expression suddenly turned hard and questioning. ‘From where I’m standing, you’re not going forward; you’re hitching a rocket ride to hell.’
Anger, regret and hate sat like a boulder in Keir’s gut. ‘Unlike you, I honour my commitments. I keep my word and I don’t deal in lies.’
‘No? You’re just an out and out fool, and a blind to boot!’