Subtle Revenge

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Subtle Revenge Page 16

by Carole Mortimer


  ‘I—I don’t understand,’ Lori frowned.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t,’ his mouth twisted. ‘But then, despite spending the night with me, you don’t appear to know me very well, do you? Do you think I approve of what my father did to yours?’ he rasped. ‘That I could live with the way he mentally persecuted a man so that the man took his own life? Well, I couldn’t!’ He looked down at her fiercely. ‘I hated the way he handled your father’s case, despised him for the mental anguish he caused him, whether he was guilty or not, hated him when your father, through sheer desperation, committed suicide.’

  Lori had flinched as he taunted her about the night she had spent with him, going deathly pale as he revealed his feelings about the way her father had been pushed into committing suicide. She had had so many hints as to the contempt Luke felt for his father—the way he had suddenly left England all those years ago, the friction, the dislike almost, between him and his father, Claude’s mention of the clash of personalities between them, the fact that there had never been any possibility of Luke working with his father. It had all been there for her to see, and in her blindness for revenge she had missed it all!

  ‘I hated what he did to your mother, to you,’ Luke continued in a steely voice. ‘I even tried to find your mother afterwards—God knows what I thought I could do,’ he derided harshly. ‘Said how sorry I was, at the very least. Although I’m sure that wouldn’t have helped your mother; nothing could at a time like that.’ He drew in a ragged breath. ‘I had no idea of the deep psychological effect it would have on you, of the lengths you would go to to get your revenge. Do you still love Nigel, is that it?’ he asked coldly.

  ‘I love you,’ she told him brokenly, shocked to the core by all that he had told her. Not that she doubted a word of it, she knew him well enough now to know that this was exactly the way he would have reacted to his father’s public cruelty to another man.

  ‘Spare me that,’ he dismissed harshly.

  ‘It’s the truth——’

  ‘I can’t accept that,’ he shook his head. ‘And even if I could, it would never work between us now. Every time we argued—and we would argue a lot,’ he added dryly, ‘you would remember what my father did to yours. I couldn’t live with that.’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask any more than to be with you!’ Tears glistened in her eyes. ‘You could tell me to leave any time you wanted to.’

  His expression was closed, the dullness of his eyes telling her nothing of his reaction to her impassioned plea. ‘I’m telling you to leave now,’ he said softly, and turned away, his shoulders hunched as he thrust his hands into his trousers pockets. ‘I’ve already arranged with Paul to have Nikki as my secretary as from this morning. He should be telling her of the change now.’

  ‘If you would rather I just left immediately——’

  ‘No,’ he mocked. ‘Claude still isn’t very strong, and knowing that his favourite secretary has walked out could cause a setback. I’d like you to stay until Claude is completely recovered.’

  ‘And then leave?’ Lori stared at his rigid back.

  ‘Yes,’ he nodded coldly. ‘And then leave.’

  She turned with a choked sob and ran from the room.

  * * *

  What followed had to be the worst week of her life, a time when she reached her lowest ebb. If she had thought herself desolate when she lost Nigel she now knew what true desolation was.

  Luke was only an arrogant figure walking about the building to her, never acknowledging that he ever noticed her, let alone the open longing in her eyes as she gazed after him. And if her days were spent trying just to catch a glimpse of him, her nights were spent aching for him, the awakening of her body making her groan with unfulfilment. If Sally noticed her pacing up and down the lounge during the night-time hours then she gave no indication of it, although she did encourage Lori to go out with her on a couple of occasions.

  When she lunched with Nikki she heard all about Luke’s foul moods, and while she had found him to be an exacting employer, he hadn’t really been a bad-tempered one. They were both suffering because of the situation she had created, with no possible solution to the fact that they seemed to love each other but couldn’t be together.

  ‘What on earth is the matter with you?’ her aunt frowned as Lori arrived for her visit on Sunday. ‘You look terrible!’

  ‘I knew I came to see you for a reason,’ Lori said with forced lightness. ‘It’s to make me feel good!’ she grimaced.

  ‘No need for sarcasm, young lady.’ Aunt Jessie looked disapprovingly over her glasses. ‘You aren’t too big to smack, you know. Now where’s Luke?’

  Straight for the jugular, that was Aunt Jessie! ‘I’m not seeing him any more,’ Lori answered with equal bluntness.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’m not,’ she shrugged.

  Her aunt frowned. ‘I have a terrible thought running through my mind,’ she groaned. ‘Didn’t he know you were Michael’s daughter?’

  ‘You mean you know who Luke is?’ Lori gasped, taut with surprise.

  ‘Of course I know,’ her aunt told her waspishly. ‘I’m not senile, girl! I knew as soon as I heard his surname. I thought you’d decided to be sensible about the Randells—but I have a feeling you haven’t,’ she sighed.

  ‘No,’ Lori confirmed huskily.

  ‘You’re such a silly girl, Lorraine,’ Aunt Jessie shook her head. ‘The past is the past, and should remain that way. You love him, don’t you?’

  ‘’Yes.’

  ‘And he’s in love with you too. So why can’t you both forget the past?’

  ‘I have—he can’t. Oh, not because he blames me in any way for what Dad did——’

  ‘Do you realise,’ her aunt interrupted gently, ‘that this is the first time you’ve ever admitted that your father could have been guilty?’

  Lori nodded. ‘But he wasn’t.’

  ‘Yes,’ Aunt Jessie said softly, ‘he was.’

  Lori blinked dazedly, sure that she had misheard. ‘Aunt Jessie…?’

  The old lady sighed. ‘I really can’t go on deceiving you any longer, Lorraine, you have to know the truth. I told Sandra she should have told you, but she wouldn’t have it.’

  ‘Have what?’ Her mouth suddenly felt dry.

  ‘Your father—my nephew—was guilty of everything Luke’s father accused him of. He killed himself because Jacob Randell would have been bringing evidence into the case the next day that would have blackened your father for ever. Your father’s mistress was going to testify against him.’

  Lori swallowed hard, turning very pale. ‘M-mistress?’

  ‘She was a woman your father had known for almost two years,’ her aunt nodded. ‘The money he had stolen was going to set them up for life once he had left your mother and you.’

  ‘But I—The letter! He always claimed he was innocent!’ Lori shook her head disbelievingly.

  ‘There was no letter, Lorraine,’ her aunt told her. ‘At least, not one your father ever wrote.’

  ‘Mummy——’

  ‘—Wrote it,’ Aunt Jessie confirmed.

  ‘But why?’ she cried her puzzlement. ‘Why lie to me?’

  ‘You were twelve years old, had already been hurt enough, and your mother didn’t want you to know about the man your father had really been, the real reason he had killed himself. I can see now why she didn’t,’ her aunt sighed wearily. ‘I haven’t liked doing it myself. But it had to be done,’ she added briskly.

  ‘But Mummy—she seemed to lose all will to live after Daddy died.’

  ‘She stood by him all during the trial, believed in his innocence. And then she found out about his mistress, his plans to leave her. It broke her spirit, Lorraine, left her no reason to carry on, not even for you. I’ve let you continue to believe this nonsense about your father’s innocence for too long. I didn’t even feel regret when that young Judas walked out on you when he learnt the truth—he was too weak for you. But Luke is a good man, a
nd I won’t stand by and see you lose him for the same reason.’

  ‘But my knowing the truth makes no difference,’ Lori groaned. ‘Can’t you see that, Aunt Jessie? It just proves that Luke’s father was right all the time!’

  ‘And that it’s time Luke did some forgiving of his own. Oh yes,’ her aunt nodded at her surprised look, ‘I know about the bad feeling between him and his father. He told me himself that he isn’t close to his father, although not the reason for it, and not who his father was. But just because I’ve put myself in this home it doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on in the rest of the world, or that I can’t see what has to be done to right a wrong. And this is wrong, Lorraine. Now I’ve told you the truth, and I want you to go to Luke and tell it to him.’

  ‘Aunt Jessie,’ Lori said slowly, dazedly, ‘if Jacob Randell had the evidence all the time that my father was guilty, if he knew about this—this other woman, and the money, why didn’t he just say so and exonerate himself with Luke?’

  ‘I think you would have to ask Mr Randell that.’

  Ask Jacob Randell? No, she couldn’t do that, couldn’t face that mockingly cruel man with the fact that she was Lorraine Chisholm.

  And yet two hours later she found herself driving to his house, not allowing herself the luxury of thought, just driving, hoping that when she got there he would be out. He wasn’t.

  ‘Tell him Miss Chisholm would like to see him,’ she asked the housekeeper after being told Mr Randell was indeed at home. ‘Miss Lorraine Chisholm.’

  She had no idea what she was going to say to Jacob Randell when she saw him, she only knew she had to start off with no deception between them.

  She couldn’t pretend not to be hurt and bewildered by the man her father had really been, having idolised him for so many years, but it had been so much more unbearable for her mother, living with the lie of her husband’s innocence, knowing how he had deceived and hurt her, that he had intended leaving her.

  ‘Would you like to go in, Miss Chisholm?’

  She looked up at the smiling housekeeper and nodded abruptly. ‘Thank you.’

  Jacob Randell sat in the drawing room, looking out of the window, the English summer proving as unpredictable as ever, a light rain falling outside. He turned his chair as he heard her approach, a smile of welcome on his lips. ‘Lori!’ he greeted warmly. ‘Luke isn’t with you?’

  ‘No, I’m alone.’ She frowned. ‘You don’t seem surprised to see me.’

  His white brows rose. ‘Miss Chisholm?’ he guessed with a smile. ‘No, I knew who you were the moment we met. I remember you and your mother very well—I’m sorry about her death, by the way. But I knew instantly who you were—you haven’t changed that much in twelve years, Lori,’ he lightly mocked. ‘Now what can I do for you?’

  ‘Help me,’ she groaned, and sat down, pleading aid from a man she had thought she would never want to talk to, let alone ask help of. ‘Why didn’t you ever tell the truth about my father?’

  For a moment he seemed to hesitate, and then he sighed. ‘Hadn’t I already done enough? The man was dead.’

  ‘Because he was guilty!’

  ‘Yes,’ Jacob nodded. ‘But maybe if I’d been gentler, not so determined to prove him guilty——’

  ‘You know he would have killed himself anyway.’ Lori knew that beyond a doubt.

  ‘Perhaps, but he still left you and your mother to the wolves.’

  ‘That’s why the truth was never published?’ she gasped.

  He nodded. ‘There seemed no reason to put you and your mother through any more torment. Your father was dead, the bank was happy because they had their money back.’ He shrugged. ‘That was the end of it.’

  ‘Except that you lost Luke’s love and respect because of it!’

  His smile faded, the life dying out of his faded eyes. ‘It was a price I had to pay.’

  ‘Not any more.’ Lori stood up determinedly. ‘I may have lost Luke, but I’m going to make sure he isn’t lost to you any longer. I’m going to tell him the truth——’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t do that,’ Jacob interrupted coldly.

  ‘Why not?’ her eyes widened.

  ‘Because it’s too late for us. I may not be guilty of all Luke believed about me, but I am guilty of a lot of it. I’ve always been ambitious, your father’s case seemed another stepping stone to the top as far as I was concerned, a cut and dried case with the victim having nowhere to run. I’d even got Janet Raynes, your father’s mistress—You knew about her?’ he frowned worriedly.

  She nodded. ‘My aunt has just told me everything.’

  He touched her hand gently. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘I’m not. I’m really not.’

  Jacob sighed. ‘Well, I got Janet Raynes to testify against your father on condition that her charges were kept to a minimum.’

  ‘So that’s why she betrayed him!’

  He nodded. ‘I doubt she would have stood by him, anyway, she wasn’t interested if he didn’t have the money. No, Janet Raynes was a cold little bitch with an eye to the main chance, and at the time your father was that chance. When he was caught she turned against him immediately. I had no idea what a tragic reaction he would have to knowing she was going to testify against him.’

  ‘Of course you didn’t,’ Lori assured. ‘And Luke has got to be made to understand that.’

  He shook his head sadly. ‘It really is too late, Lori.’

  ‘Your wife,’ she said slowly. ‘Did she know the truth? She didn’t turn against you too?’ she pleaded.

  He smiled, love suddenly blazing in the faded grey eyes. ‘Barbara—loved me to the end, just as I loved her. Although my son would need convincing of that too,’ he added ruefully.

  ‘He’s going to get a lot of convincing!’ There was a stubborn glint in her eyes.

  Jacob touched her hand. ‘I’d really like you as my daughter-in-law, Lori.’

  ‘Even knowing about my father?’ She looked away.

  ‘You aren’t your father,’ he assured her. ‘Things like dishonesty aren’t passed on genetically, no matter what they tell you to the contrary,’ he added dryly. ‘I’m sorry if Luke and I gave you a rough time last weekend,’ he grimaced. ‘I’m afraid we bring out the worst in each other. But I would like it if you were to marry him. Do you think you could arrange it?’

  She shook her head sadly. ‘I’m afraid not.’

  His mouth thinned angrily. ‘That son of mine is as stubborn as——’

  ‘You are,’ Lori smiled.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he conceded. ‘But you’ll visit me again?’

  There was an intense sincerity in his voice that convinced her he would really like that. ‘I’ll try,’ she nodded.

  It was very late when she arrived back in London, and after all the driving she had done today, the trauma of at last knowing the truth, she was feeling very tired. But not too tired to visit Luke. She was not sure if she could go through with it if she waited until tomorrow. And there was a lonely man in a wheelchair whom she owed this to.

  Luke was wearing only a robe when he came to the door his hair tousled as if from sleep—and yet the deep lines of weariness about his eyes seemed to indicate that, like her, he hadn’t been sleeping at all well this last week. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

  ‘I’d like to talk to you.’ Her words came out fast and determined.

  He didn’t move. ‘It’s very late.’

  She looked at him unflinchingly, finding only coldness in his face. ‘I’ve just assured your father that it’s never too late,’ she told him calmly, and watched his start of surprise.

  ‘My father?’ he echoed sharply. ‘You’ve been to see my father?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’ he rasped.

  ‘Could I come inside, or would you rather we discussed this on the doorstep?’ she enquired coolly, confidently. If only she felt that way, but she was a churning bundle of nerves inside!

  He flushed at he
r intended rebuke and stepped back, the tangy smell of his aftershave and the clean smell of his body teasing her senses as she walked past him into the lounge.

  ‘Why did you go to see my father?’ he demanded to know.

  ‘Because I needed to know the truth.’

  ‘About what?’ he scorned.

  ‘About why he kept quiet about my father, damaged his reputation, gained the disrespect of his son because of his silence. Did you ever ask him for the truth, Luke?’

  His mouth twisted. ‘I already knew it.’

  ‘My father was guilty, I know that now. Aunt Jessie knew the truth all along,’ she explained.

  ‘I’ve already told you, it didn’t matter whether your father was guilty or not.’ He moved to the array of bottles on the side, pouring himself a glass of whisky. ‘He still caused him to take his own life!’

  Lori shook her head. ‘You’re wrong.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ He threw the whisky to the back of his throat, swallowing deeply, not even flinching at the fiery liquid. ‘I don’t know what my father has told you, but I should warn you, he’s an adept liar. He fooled my mother for thirty-five years——’

  Lori’s hand moved up to strike him hard across the side of his face, not even flinching at the angry red tide of colour that entered his lean cheeks, the furious glitter of his eyes. ‘Pour yourself another drink, Luke,’ she advised coldly. ‘I think you’re going to need it!’

  ‘You little——’

  ‘Sit down, Luke,’ she instructed angrily. ‘And just listen to me for a few minutes!’

  ‘Lori——’

  Before he could say any more she began to talk herself, and his angry protests soon trailed off as he listened intently to what she was saying. He sat down on the sofa before she had told him half of what she had learnt today. By the time she had finished she was as pale and worn as he was, the events of the day catching up with her.

 

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