by Lucy Gordon;Sarah Morgan;Robyn Donald;Lucy Monroe;Lee Wilkinson;Kate Walker
They had reached the main hall, which had been transformed for the party, when he stopped and said, ‘Oh, just one thing. I’d prefer it if you didn’t wear this.’ Before she could guess his intention he had removed Kirk’s ring and slipped it into his pocket.
When they reached the living room, a stocky man in his late fifties, with grizzled hair and twinkling hazel eyes, rose to his feet. He was wearing well-cut evening clothes.
‘Edward. Long time no see…I got your message.’ He held out his hand.
‘Richard.’ The two men shook hands cordially. ‘I hope my asking you to come early didn’t inconvenience you too much?’
‘Not at all. Since Edna died I’ve only had myself to consider. And, as you know, I’m always glad to be of service.’
Blaze put an arm around Fran’s slender waist and drew her forward. ‘Darling, may I introduce you to Richard Henderson, an old friend of the family? Richard, I’d like you to meet Francesca Holt.’
Thrown by the darling, she stammered, ‘H-how do you do, Mr Henderson.’
‘Richard, please, and I hope I may call you Francesca?’
‘Of course.’ A pleasant, open face, and a slight gap between his two front teeth gave him a boyish look, and, taking an instant liking to him, she answered his friendly smile.
He enfolded her hand in a light but firm grip. ‘It’s very nice to meet you. I was delighted when Edward mentioned that it was to be an engagement party. In my humble opinion he’s been a bachelor for far too long.’
‘Oh, but I’m not—’
‘Richard is a highly respected QC,’ Blaze broke in smoothly, ‘but his other great interest—one in which he’s an acknowledged expert—is jewellery and precious stones.’
Turning to the older man, he said, ‘Like everyone else, you’re here to enjoy yourself, but before the other guests arrive I was hoping you would take a look at Francesca’s necklace and tell me what you think.’
‘So that’s why you suggested I brought my glass,’ Richard said cheerfully. ‘Well, I’m more than happy to sing for my supper.’
Since jewellery and precious stones had been mentioned Blaze had been watching Fran’s face for any sign of discomfort, but the only emotion he could find there was a look of perplexity.
‘Why don’t you sit down?’ He steered her to a chair.
Instead of going to the safe, as she’d expected, Blaze drew the leather pouch from his pocket and handed it to the other man. Surprised, she wondered why he’d been carrying so valuable a thing around with him.
Opening the drawstring, Richard tipped out the glittering contents, ‘The Balantyne rubies, of course!’ he exclaimed. ‘I remember the last time I saw these was at your mother and father’s wedding…’ Then, sounding puzzled, ‘There’s the same number of stones, but they look entirely different.’
‘We’ve just had them reset.’
‘A great improvement, if I may say so. The new design shows the stones off to much better advantage.’
‘I thought so too,’ Blaze agreed.
‘So you’d like my opinion?’
At Blaze’s nod, Richard fitted a jeweller’s glass into his eye and gave the necklace a long and careful examination. Then, putting it back in the pouch, he handed it to Blaze and returned the glass to his pocket.
‘Well, I must congratulate you. The actual workmanship is very fine, and though the stones themselves wouldn’t stand up to expert scrutiny, it’s really an excellent fake. With today’s technological advances it looks, to all intents and purposes, as good as the real thing, and would fool most people.
‘As far as I’m concerned it makes a lot of sense for your future wife to wear this, and keep the original safe in the bank vaults.’
‘Thanks. That’s more or less what I expected you to say.’ Clapping him on the shoulder. Blaze added, ‘Now, if you don’t mind, it’s high time Francesca and I went to get ready for this party…I don’t need to tell you to ring for anything you want, and to make yourself at home.’
Turning to Fran, who was sitting in stunned silence, he urged her to her feet. ‘Come on, darling, we need to change into our glad rags.’
Limp and unresisting, like someone in a state of shock, she allowed herself to be shepherded from the room.
When they reached Blaze’s private sitting room he tossed the pouch carelessly on to the coffee table; the drawstring hadn’t been tightened, and a length of the necklace spilled from it.
The storm had finally moved away, and a ray of watery sun slanting through the window picked out the rubies like a spotlight.
Staring at it as though hypnotised, Fran denied hoarsely, ‘It can’t be a fake! It can’t! There must be some mistake.’
‘Oh, there’s been a mistake all right,’ Blaze agreed grimly. ‘And Varley made it. But we haven’t time to discuss it now. The other guests will be arriving before too long.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘You’re not going ahead with the party?’
‘It’s much too late to cancel it.’
‘But how will you…?’
‘Explain Melinda’s absence? I won’t. I have no intention of looking a complete fool by having to admit that another man has stolen not only the Balantyne rubies, but my fiancée along with them.’
‘B-but I thought the whole point was to introduce Miss Ross to—’
‘The whole point was to introduce my fiancée… It’s fortunate that none of the people coming here tonight have met Melinda…or even know her name, for that matter…’
After a brief, but significant pause, he went on blandly, ‘So it should be relatively easy to find a substitute fiancée—’
Light beginning to dawn, Fran broke in, ‘You don’t mean that you want me to…?’
‘That’s exactly what I mean. It’s the only answer. I’d already decided that before we went downstairs.’
‘So that’s why you called me darling,’ she said in a strangled voice. ‘Why you acted as you did. You wanted Mr Henderson to believe…’
‘That you were my intended,’ he finished for her drily. ‘And he did. Richard is one of the shrewdest men I know, and he never gave it a second thought, so we should have no trouble convincing the rest.’
If Blaze had meant nothing to her she might have been able to carry it off. But, feeling as she did, she couldn’t bear to pretend. Couldn’t bear to stand by his side and receive all the good wishes intended for another woman. It would break her heart.
‘No,’ she protested raggedly. ‘I won’t do it.’
‘My dear Francesca, you have no option. You’re in this right up to your beautiful neck.’
‘But I’m not! I hadn’t the faintest idea there was anything going on between Kirk and Melinda. And if the necklace is a fake I swear I didn’t know.’
‘I only have your word for that. You were the one who delivered it…So unless you want to end up in prison, along with your ex-boyfriend, you’ll do exactly as I say.’
‘No,’ she cried in a panic. ‘I won’t let you coerce me. I haven’t done anything wrong—’
‘Even supposing that’s true, it won’t be easy to prove it.’
‘It is true!’
He shrugged. ‘It hardly matters whether it is or not. When Varleys folds, as it’s bound to, you’ll need another post. Once it gets into the papers that their up-and-coming designer has been mixed up in something like this…’
Watching her face, seeing the look of despair that his words evoked, he said, ‘Exactly. Even if you’re whiter than white, mud has a nasty habit of sticking. You’ll be finished in the jewellery business.’
Still she made an effort to fight back. ‘I’ll find another career. I’ve done it before.’
‘But you won’t do it again. I’ll make sure of that.’
‘Then I’ll take a job as a shop assistant, or a waitress.’
Shaking his head, he said with deadly intent, ‘If you refuse to do as I ask, I’ll see that you don’t get a job of any kind. And should you manage to get
one, even if it’s stacking shelves in a supermarket, I’ll make certain you don’t keep it.’
Appalled, she whispered, ‘You can’t hound me like that!’
He laughed, white teeth gleaming. ‘I assure you I can! I can wield quite a lot of power, direct or indirect, when I choose to.’
Bitterly, she said, ‘I’m surprised you think I’m worth the trouble.’
‘My motto has always been Don’t get mad, get even. I don’t allow anyone to make a fool of me and walk away unscathed.’
‘But I had nothing to do with it.’
‘You may not have helped plan the whole thing, in fact I’m sure you didn’t, but you certainly played your part. Even if it was unwittingly, you came here and stalled me long enough to give Varley a chance to get a head start. Now we’ve reached the end of the line. You owe me, Francesca, and you’ll do what I want you to do.
‘How much conviction you put into the part is, of course, up to you. But, unless you want to answer to me afterwards, I suggest that you try to make it look credible. At least while other people are present…And, speaking of other people, our guests are due to arrive in something like three-quarters of an hour, so suppose you start to get ready?’
Resenting his arrogant assumption that she would knuckle under, she told him coldly, ‘I’ve nothing grand enough to wear. All I brought was a simple cocktail dress.’
‘Wear that,’ he ordered briefly. Then, with a frown, ‘What colour is it?’
‘Black.’ As she spoke she remembered with malicious satisfaction that he disliked black.
Judging by the gleam in his eye he read her mind, but all he said was, ‘Black will do fine.’
‘I’m afraid that when I decided to leave here I packed in a hurry, so it’s bound to be badly creased.’
‘Then wear something of Melinda’s. You’re about the same size, and at least she had good taste. There’s a wardrobe full of dresses, most of which she’s never had on.’
Chin up, Fran faced him defiantly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of wearing another woman’s clothes!’
His white teeth snapped together. Stepping forward, he took her chin in his hand and, splayed fingers and thumb biting in a little, lifted her face to his. ‘If you’re not ready in thirty minutes,’ he warned her softly, ‘I’ll come and dress you myself.’
Releasing her abruptly, he turned and walked away.
Trembling in every limb, she watched his broad back disappear into his bedroom. If he’d flown into a rage and shouted she could have defied him more easily, but she’d found his quiet, leashed anger intimidating.
And she wasn’t the only one to find it so.
In the business world, she recalled, he was noted as a man who was always in control, a man who never raised his voice, yet he was both feared and respected, not only by his staff but by his equals.
Making an effort, she pulled herself together. The seconds were flying past, and if she wasn’t ready in time she didn’t doubt that he was quite capable of carrying out his threat.
Biting her lip, she went into Melinda’s bedroom and opened the case she’d left there.
As she had surmised, the black dress was unwearable, and now it was too late she found herself wishing that she’d packed with greater care instead of just bundling everything in.
With the utmost reluctance she went over to the wardrobe and looked at the row of evening dresses with the rack of matching shoes.
There wasn’t a single black amongst them, she noted. Most were strong, vibrant colours…blue…green…scarlet…Closer inspection showed that many of them had no back and very little front, and several were lacy and see-through.
Perhaps as a result of her upbringing, and her dislike of drawing attention to herself, Fran had always tended to dress down, avoiding bright colours and the more daring styles.
With the best will in the world, she couldn’t see herself in any of these striking creations.
Right at the end, pushed carelessly to one side, as though Melinda had regretted her choice, was an ankle-length smoke-grey chiffon.
Relatively modest and perfectly plain, with plaited straps which continued beneath the bust-line, it appeared to be exactly her size. A piece of tissue paper lining the bodice confirmed the fact that it had never been worn.
The matching shoes, Fran noted, were a size too large. But her own grey evening shoes would go with it perfectly. Her mind made up, she hurriedly lifted it out, removed the tissue paper, and laid it across the bed.
She found herself hoping very much that Blaze would approve her choice.
Within the last few minutes her resentment at his high-handedness had died. A deep-rooted honesty made her admit that his anger was justified.
If the necklace was a fake—and though it was hard to believe it seemed unlikely that Richard Henderson could have made a mistake—Blaze had been robbed of a priceless family heirloom as well as the woman he was all set to marry.
She recalled his haughty statement, ‘I’ve learnt to keep what’s mine while I want it,’ and shivered. All his carefully laid plans had been ruined, and he’d been left in the kind of situation that could make any man look a fool.
In the circumstances, she couldn’t blame him for venting his anger and frustration on her. Nothing was solely black and white, and though what had happened wasn’t her fault, she had been involved, and felt at least partly responsible.
But it was too late to change anything. The only thing she could possibly do was try to make amends. So if she was forced to go through with this heartbreaking charade then for both their sakes she would endeavour to look her best, and play the part as well as she could.
After a quick shower to freshen herself up, she put on her prettiest undies and her finest silk stockings, before coiling her hair into a shining knot and making up with care.
When she was ready, she slipped into the cloud of chiffon and pulled up the concealed zip. Two things immediately became clear. The dress fitted exactly, and it was nowhere near as demure as she’d first thought.
Stepping in front of the cheval-glass, she gasped at the vision that stared back at her. She had never looked like this in her life before.
The bust section was cunningly cut to reveal the enticing swell of her breasts and the valley between, and as she moved the floating layers of gauzy material parted to disclose that, on the left, the skirt was slit up to the thigh.
Fran was still standing bemused when there was a peremptory rap and the door opened.
Blaze’s reflection appeared in the mirror behind her. Freshly shaven, his hair parted on the left and smoothly brushed, he looked extremely handsome in immaculate evening dress.
For a long moment he stood perfectly still. Then he turned her around and stood gazing down at her, a look on his face that made her stammered ‘W-will I do?’ superfluous.
‘You look stunning,’ he said softly. ‘A million dollars and then some…And the colour is perfect with this.’ As he spoke he produced the necklace.
She glanced at it with a sudden distaste.
Reading her expression, he said, ‘Everyone who knows the Balantyne family history will be expecting my fiancée to be wearing it. And, let’s face it, you’ve worn it before, so I can’t see any problem…Unless you object to wearing something that’s been confirmed as a fake?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not that…I—I just feel…’ Unable to put into words exactly how she did feel, she made a gesture of submission and reached for the necklace.
‘Stand still; I’ll fasten it for you.’ While she stood obediently, he put it around her slim throat, secured the clasp, and settled it into place.
Stepping back to admire the effect, he commented laconically, ‘For a fake it looks well enough…’
A glance in the mirror confirmed that his words were an understatement.
‘It’s a pity we haven’t got the real thing for you to wear,’ he went on, ‘though I strongly suspect that rubies aren’t your stones. You need the more s
ubtle gems, like opals and moonstones…Speaking of which…’
He drew a small leather ring box from his pocket and took out an unusual and very lovely half-hoop of pearly moonstones.
‘An engagement party calls for an engagement ring. This was my paternal grandmother’s. I think it’s your size.’
Lifting Fran’s left hand, he slipped it on to her third finger. It fitted perfectly, and went with the ensemble as though it had all been minutely planned. Blaze nodded. ‘Ideal, I think.’
It was one of the loveliest rings Fran had ever seen, and, suddenly close to tears, she thought, If only this was for real.
But of course it wasn’t. It was as fake as the necklace. A charade to be played out to save Blaze embarrassment in front of his friends and colleagues. When they discovered that the actual wedding was off, he would no doubt say that the engagement had been ended ‘by mutual consent’ or whatever excuse would cause the least speculation…
Watching her face, he lifted a dark brow. ‘You don’t like it?’
‘Yes, I do,’ she contradicted huskily. ‘It’s absolutely beautiful.’
‘Then why look so unhappy?’
Before she could think of an answer, he said half angrily, ‘I’m sorry. I’m a stupid, insensitive oaf. Of course you’re unhappy. Varley may have run off with my fiancée, but Melinda’s run off with yours. And at the moment you probably consider your loss is greater than mine. I was simply buying myself a suitable wife, whereas you loved Varley.’
Not knowing what to say, and very conscious of his nearness, she finally stammered, ‘Shouldn’t we be going down? I—I mean your guests will be arriving any minute.’
‘Our guests,’ he corrected her. ‘And of course you’re quite right…But I think we should make time for one more thing.’
Before she could ask what that was, he drew her into his arms, said half mockingly, ‘It’s just as well you don’t wear lipstick,’ and kissed her.
Unable to help herself, her lips parted to the seductive demand of his, and with no thought of charades or pretence she melted against him while he kissed her as though she was the only woman he had ever wanted.
After a long moment he lifted his head and smiled into her eyes. ‘That’s much better,’ he said with undisguised satisfaction. ‘Now you look all flushed and glowing, exactly like a bride-to-be who’s just been thoroughly kissed.’