Substitute Fiancee

by Lee Wilkinson

  But the knowledge that he didn't had made sharing his bed bittersweet, and had brought almost as much pain as pleasure. As she had known it would do.

  One-sided loving was like a knife turning in the heart. Every minute she stayed close to Blaze, every time he made love to her, only served to drive the blade that much deeper.

  She had to get away, had to leave Balantyne Hall as soon as possible...

  Reaching for her robe, which along with her nightdress had been picked up and placed tidily over a chair, she pulled it on, and, seeing the bathroom was empty, headed for the living room.

  That too was empty, but the curtains had been drawn back and a bright fire burnt in the grate to combat the coolness of the storm-washed September day.

  Propped on the bureau, where the necklace had been, was a note in Blaze's forceful hand. 'Going to town. Expect to be back in time for lunch.' Then, scrawled on the bottom, a repressive, 'Don't even think of leaving.'

  Her case was still standing where he'd left it, and, picking it up, she carried it through to the bathroom.

  Having cleaned her teeth and stripped off her robe, she removed Blaze's ring and put it carefully on one of the vanity units before stepping under the shower.

  When she was dried and dressed, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, she found herself replacing the ring.

  As she started to brush out her long hair, all the worries she had been striving to keep at bay began to crowd in on her relentlessly.

  How could the necklace possibly be a fake? And had Melinda and Kirk really run off together?

  It seemed unbelievable...

  Fran was coiling her thick, silky hair into a knot when she heard the bedroom door open and Blaze's voice call sharply, 'Francesca?'

  The hairpins she was holding in her mouth—a teenage practice deplored by her mother—prevented her from answering immediately.

  She was thrusting in the last of the pins when the bathroom door was flung open and Blaze appeared on the threshold, looking both angry and alarmed.

  He must have noticed her case was missing, Fran realised, and, with everywhere being quiet, jumped to the conclusion that she had ignored his warning and somehow managed to slip away.

  For a split second his face registered relief at seeing her there, before a shutter came down. Then, his manner cool and impersonal, he informed her, 'I've asked for some lunch to be sent up, so as soon as you're ready...'

  'I'll be out in just a minute.'

  When she went through to the living room he was sitting by the fire. A loaded tray was waiting on the table.

  As she took the chair opposite, he remarked, 'You must be hungry, so I suggest we get our food while it's hot. Would you like to start with some soup?'

  She shook her head, and, having accepted a piece of quiche and some salad, picked up her knife and fork. Happening to glance up, she noticed his eyes were fixed on the ring.

  Answering her uncertainty, he said quickly, Tm pleased to see you're still wearing it.'

  The quiche was delicious, but with so much on her mind Fran's appetite had totally deserted her, and she had to make an effort to force it down.

  As soon as their coffee cups were empty she turned to Blaze and asked anxiously, 'Is there any news?'

  'It's confirmation rather than news. And from your point of view none of it's good.'

  Bracing herself, she said quietly, 'Then you'd better tell me the worst.'

  Leaning back, he stretched his long legs. "Though I was certain Richard couldn't be mistaken about the necklace, the first thing I did when I got to town this morning was make a private visit to AI Cockburn, my insurance assessor.'

  'And it is a fake?'

  'Undoubtedly.'

  Despite the fact that she hadn't held out much hope, Fran felt as though she'd been kicked in the stomach.

  Helplessly, she said, 'I didn't know. Truly I didn't.'

  'I believe you. I was watching your face while Richard was doing his stuff. There was no trace of guilt or awareness, and I'm sure there would have been if you had known.'

  She took a deep, steadying breath. 'I still can't really credit it. I mean...it just doesn't seem possible. William Bailey is the most honest man I've ever met. He would never have been a party to such a thing.'

  'What if he didn't know?'

  Though the last thing she wanted to do was implicate William, honesty made Fran shake her head. 'He's been a goldsmith dealing with precious stones for over forty years, so surely he would have realised if he'd been given fake rubies to reset?'

  Voicing a thought that had occurred to her the previous evening, she added flatly, 'You must have guessed they were fake, otherwise you wouldn't have asked for Mr Henderson's opinion.'

  'Though I distrusted the whole set-up from the word go, Varley might have got away with it for a while longer if I hadn't had a direct tip-off. You remember the phone call I received during dinner on Friday night? Well, the anonymous caller suggested then that fake stones had been made. When I asked him why he was taking the trouble to warn me, he said, "Because I owe that b...Varley one. He stole my wife.”

  'Yesterday morning I went to town, intending to get the necklace checked out...'

  So that was why he'd been carrying it.

  'But Cockburn wasn't there and I didn't want to waste any time. That's when I thought of Richard. The rest followed on logically. As soon as I knew there was a good chance that the necklace was a fake, and neither Melinda nor Varley had turned up here, I began to get the picture.

  'I'd realized from the first that Melinda didn't like some of the clauses in our marriage contract, but rather than lose the chance of being a rich man's wife she'd gone along with them...

  'You said you would stick by Varley if he was made penniless, but Melinda isn't like that at all. She cares about money. I always knew that if I lost everything I had, she would probably go too. At the moment, however, I'm wealthy enough to provide whatever she wants, so. I couldn't see her giving it all up to be with a man who, however much she might fancy him, was on the verge of bankruptcy.

  'But a man with rubies worth millions in his possession was a different proposition.'

  Her voice just above a whisper, Fran asked, 'So you think Melinda knew about the fakes?'

  'Oh, she knew all right.'

  Something about his conviction made her ask, 'You don't think they planned this together?'

  "That's exactly what I think. In her own way, Melinda is just as unscrupulous as Varley...'

  Yes, she could well believe that, Fran thought.

  'And as neither of them liked the idea of being poor,' Blaze continued, 'they decided to do something about it.'

  Her voice not quite steady, Fran asked, "Then you're absolutely certain they've run off together?'

  Noting the quiver, he answered more gently, 'I'm afraid so.'

  All at once fiercely glad, Fran felt her eyes fill with tears. Though Blaze didn't know it, he'd had a lucky escape. Melinda's stated intention of reneging on the marriage contact would only have brought discord and unhappiness.

  At least now he had a chance of finding another woman who would give him the children he wanted...

  Seeing Blaze's eyes fixed on her, Fran looked hastily away, trying not to blink. She was forced to, and in spite of all her efforts twin tears overflowed and rolled down her cheeks in tracks of shiny wetness.

  'Damn Varley!' Blaze said harshly. Getting to his feet, he pulled her into his arms, murmuring, 'Don't cry... Don't cry...'

  His concern, coming on top of everything else, was her undoing, and she began to weep in earnest.

  Cradling her head against his chest, his mouth buried in her hair, Blaze held her until the sobs had died away.

  Regaining control, and ashamed of her show of weakness, Fran lifted her head and prepared to leave the comfort of his arms.

  Looking down at her, he wiped away the tears with his thumbs, before letting her sink back into the chair.

  '
I know you think you love him, but, believe me, he's not worth crying over. Sooner or later you'll have to face the fact that he's no good. From the start I was sure he was up to something, and for a while I thought you might well be a part of it. Now I'm satisfied that Varley was just using you, and quite ruthlessly.'

  As she opened her mouth to protest he added firmly, 'No, I'm not just guessing. I'm one hundred per cent certain.'

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  'HOW CAN you be so sure?'

  Blaze spread expressive hands. 'Start from the beginning and work it out for yourself. You saw Melinda and Varley together. How did they get on?'

  'Very well,' Fran admitted. 'Kirk was charming to her and she responded, but I presumed that...'

  "That it was just a good business relationship?'

  'Yes.'

  'Obviously it was a great deal more. My guess is that from the word go there was an instant and powerful attraction between the pair of them. I was safely in the States, so they began seeing each other—which would explain why she stayed up in Manchester so much. I did wonder about that...

  "Then one or other of them must have had the bright idea of stealing the rubies, and they began to plan how best to do it without anyone finding out. The first thing would have been to have a set of fake stones made—only as you yourself pointed out, William Bailey—whom I believe to be an honest man—would almost certainly have spotted them. To get over that problem they decided to have two necklaces made.'

  'Two?'

  'It was the only thing that made sense. I rang William Bailey this morning and he confirmed that he had made two identical gold settings. As soon as he was given the design and the dimensions he made a trial one, so to speak, which was handed over to Melinda for her approval. He was told that Miss Ross was very happy with it, but she wanted to keep it to show me. Therefore, on Varley's instructions, he made a second one, in which he set the real rubies.

  'In the meantime the fake stones were put into the first setting, probably by one of Varley's shady friends, so all that was needed was for him to make a last-minute switch.

  'You yourself told me that before Varley "left for Amsterdam" he packed the necklace up himself and put it in the safe. Then the following day, just before your taxi arrived to take you to the airport, William Bailey opened the safe and gave you the package. At that stage neither of you had any reason to doubt that it contained the real necklace.

  'Melinda and Varley are both clever,' Blaze went on, a hint of admiration in his tone, 'and the whole thing was planned with the greatest care. She made certain that you and Varley were invited to the Hall, and he made certain that you were carrying the necklace. Your total innocence was to be their trump card.'

  'I don't—'

  'You admitted that Varley showed no interest in you until you got the go-ahead to redesign the setting?'

  Fran nodded.

  'But he's a man of the world. He must have noticed your interest in him?'

  She flushed uncomfortably. 'I suppose so.'

  'When did he actually propose?'

  Slowly, she said, 'When he was outlining his plan for delivering the necklace and he first suggested that I should carry it. I considered it was much too big a responsibility for someone who was only an employee, and I told him so...

  'He said something like, "My darling girl, you must know that I don't think of you as a mere employee. In fact I was about to ask you to become part of the firm..'. Yes, I really do mean marry me...”'

  Blaze nodded grimly. 'Everything depended on you carrying the necklace, so he'd have promised you the moon if he'd thought it necessary. And to add weight to his proposal, and allay any faint doubts you might have had, he asked you to move in with him

  'Meanwhile he'd set up this trip to Amsterdam, and made arrangements for you to meet him at the airport on his return. That done, he fixed for one of his underworld associates to follow you to London, well clear of his home ground, before putting the rest of his plan into operation.

  'His message about being delayed was an essential part of the strategy. He needed you to be alone—but somewhere nice and public, like a taxi rank at an airport—when your bag was snatched. That way he would have an excellent alibi for himself, and the only thing the firm could have been accused of was some degree of negligence. Though the secrecy angle was quite a valid one.

  'His plans must have appeared to be working smoothly until, when he was about to board the plane for Amsterdam, he either discovered or strongly suspected that he was being followed.

  'Though he couldn't have been sure who was following him, or why, afraid of things going wrong, he changed his mind about leaving for Amsterdam and set out to give his shadow the slip...

  'As you know, he succeeded, and once more his plans seemed all set to work. You were given the necklace, caught the plane to London, waited for him as instructed, and then when he was "delayed" went to get a taxi...

  'Everything had gone like clockwork until your bag was snatched, but then, instead of you having hysterics and reporting it, as he'd expected, you got quietly into a taxi and carried on to Balantyne Hall.

  'His plan was brilliant, in its way, and no doubt would have worked if you hadn't made up your mind to wear the necklace instead of carrying it. That unexpected decision threw a spanner in the works.'

  Bewildered, she said, 'But if he'd gone to all the trouble to have a fake necklace made, why was it necessary to steal it?'

  "That was the whole purpose. He couldn't afford to try and palm me off with a fake. He knew it wouldn't be too long before someone spotted it, and then the fat would be in the fire.'

  'I still don't follow... If the whole purpose was simply to steal it, why not leave just a weighted box?'

  'Too risky. William Bailey might possibly have made a last-minute check. If he had, without a close examination, the fake was good enough to pass muster.'

  'I see,' she breathed.

  'Then, once it was safely stolen, in a manner of speaking, no one would know it had been a fake. Both you and William Bailey would have been convinced it was the real thing. And in the unlikely event of it ever being recovered, who's to say that the criminal who stole it hadn't made the switch?

  'All that Varley and Melinda needed to do was sit tight until the furore had died down. If things had gone according to plan Melinda would no doubt have come on to the Hall. But some time over the weekend, and certainly before the wedding, she would have found some pretext to back out of the agreement and end our engagement. Then, with all the worry and stress of having the necklace stolen, it would have been easy for Varley to pick a quarrel with you and break things off. When they eventually did get together, even if someone was suspicious, no blame could be attached to two people for simply falling in love.

  'Everything must have seemed cut and dried, and it no doubt came as a very nasty shock when the necklace wasn't in your bag and the whole scheme fell apart... In fact I strongly suspect that at first they were thrown into a panic...'

  'Do you think that's why they made the mistake of going to Kirk's apartment?'

  'I'm fairly sure they must have had some pressing reason to risk going back there. Possibly it was to pick up his passport, or perhaps the real necklace... If it was either or both of those, it seems on the cards that they're planning to make a run for it.

  'Of course they won't know how long they've got before someone puts two and two together and the fake is discovered... Though it's early days yet, so with a bit of luck they'll still be feeling relatively secure.'

  'You don't think they'll realise that they've been picked up again?'

  'Though they must have been extremely wary, I doubt it.' Grimly, he added, 'After getting blasted for their previous poor showing, Fitters have got a team of top men and women following them.'

  'So you know where they are?'

  "The last I heard they appeared to be heading for London.'

  'What do you intend to do?'

  'Nothing, at the moment. I'm w
aiting to see which way they jump. If they are going to try and leave the country, then they'll almost certainly have the necklace with them. It's a big risk, of course, but one they have to take...

  'On the other hand if they're intending to lie low—and London is a good place to disappear in—the necklace may be stashed away somewhere. Which could make recovering it a great deal more difficult.'

  Fran moistened her dry lips. 'What if you don't get it back? I suppose it's insured?'

  'It's insured up to the hilt, but in the circumstances I wouldn't expect any insurance company to pay out. They'll no doubt argue that insufficient care was taken.'

  Tm sorry,' she said helplessly.

  'Financially I'm well able to stand the loss.' His voice steely, he added, 'But I don't want to lose a family heirloom, and I dislike being made a fool of.'

  'Who doesn't?'

  Hearing the bitterness, he remarked, 'In your case they didn't succeed. It was your resourcefulness that turned the tables.'

  She could only be glad that he looked at it that way. At least it made things easier.

  Bracing herself, she took the bull by the horns. 'Now you're happy that I'm not to blame in any way, I'd like to leave as soon as possible.'

  'Why?'

  The question took her by surprise. 'Well, I—'

  'What is there to hurry back for? You have no lover waiting for you, no job, not even a bedsitter to go back to.'

  'Well, that's just it... I—I need to get my life sorted out. Once I've found somewhere to live and another job—'

  'In the circumstances that might not be easy.'

  Hoping his words held no veiled threat, and striving to sound confident, she said, 'Starting all over again isn't so bad. I've done it before.'

  His voice searing, he informed her, 'You may find the idea of starting all over again reasonable. I don't.'

  'But neither of us have much option,' she pointed out shakily.

  'I'm not sure I agree there. In most situations there's usually more than one course open. For instance, with regard to the theft of the Balantyne rubies, I have the choice of either dealing with it myself or calling in the police.'