'Quiet,' Alice said flatly. 'I think he worries more about the staff at the factory than he does about us, all he keeps saying is: Where will they get other jobs if I have to shut down? He isn't worried about us.'
'Of course he is, you know that isn't true. He was so worried about you that he couldn't face telling you.' Lindsay was indignant on her brother's behalf, Alice was being unfair to him. Lindsay could understand why her sister-in-law was upset, Alice had two small children to think about, she must be very unhappy about losing her home, but that was no reason to be so unkind to Stephen.
'He was so worried about me that he let me go through hell thinking he might be dead,' Alice muttered.
'Oh, Alice!' Lindsay said on a sigh, and heard Alice draw a shaky breath.
'I know,' she said suddenly. 'I'm so angry with him I can't bear it at times, he hurt me, I feel insulted because he didn't confide in, me, he rang Aston Hill and he barely knows the man. I feel so small, being left out like that. I'm his wife!'
'Daniel may help him,' Lindsay said on impulse, and Alice broke into the sentence with an eagerness that hurt.
'Did he tell you that? Do you think he meant it? Has he talked to Stephen?'
'Daniel's cautious, he takes his time to think these things through,' Lindsay told her. 'He won't have talked to Stephen yet, not until he's sure of his plans.'
'It would be marvellous,' said Alice, her voice much lighter now. 'It would take such a load off Stephen, he doesn't know which way to turn.'
Lindsay rang off a moment later and sat staring at the wall. Then she slowly picked up the phone and dialled again, her hand shaking. She found herself counting the rings, and when they stopped and a voice spoke she almost jumped out of her skin.
'I want to speak to Mr Randall,' she said, and the voice took on a tone which had the texture of ice-cream, frigidly smooth.
'I'll put you through to Mr Randall's secretary.'
Lindsay waited another half a minute, then a woman spoke politely. 'Can I help you?'
'I want to speak to Air Randall,' Lindsay said again. She hesitated, and before she could decide which name to use the other woman said: 'Who is it speaking, please?' in a distant voice that put her back up so much that she said tersely: 'Mrs Randall.'
There was a silence, then the secretary said: 'Mrs Randall?' again, and Lindsay told her: 'His wife.' When the woman spoke again her voice was very different.
'Would you hold the line for a moment, Mrs Randall? I'll see if I can find Mr Randall, I don't know if he is in his office at the moment.'
Lindsay made grotesque faces at the phone as she waited, and a full minute elapsed before Daniel's voice murmured in her ear.
'Lindsay?'
'Yes,' she said.
He waited, then said: 'What did you want?'
'Yes, I said,' Lindsay muttered, and a long silence fell, then he breathed audibly close to the phone.
'We'd better have lunch today. I'll pick you up outside your office at twelve-thirty.'
'I can't…' she began, only to find that he had hung up, the phone had gone dead. Lindsay replaced it, her skid tight around her jaws. She was aching with tension. Did he have to be so brusque? It had cost her a great deal to make that call, he might have been more responsive than that.
She forced herself to turn her attention to work, concentrating on the pile of reports to such an extent that when the door opened she didn't hear it and Chris's voice made her start violently.
'Jumpy today, aren't you?' he observed, staring down at her.
'I was working,' she retorted. 'You could try it, surprise yourself.'
'I'm just off to lunch,' he said, looking amused. 'Coming?'
Lindsay looked at the time, incredulous as she saw that it was twenty to one. 'Oh, no,' she said. 'I'm going to be late.'
He lifted his eyebrows enquiringly. 'Got a date with Aston?'
'No,' she said, unforthcoming. She got up and started towards the door with Chris in hot pursuit. 'I'm going to the cloakroom, where are you off to?' she asked him without turning round.
'Is it a client?' Chris asked, and she ran into the cloakroom, letting the door swing shut in his face without answering.
In front of a mirror she brushed her hair, renewed her make-up and inspected her reflection. She was wearing her white silk blouse with a lightweight green linen skirt tightly belted at the waist with a thin gilt belt. She looked cool and efficient, she did not look exactly sexy, but she decided that that was probably a good thing.
She hadn't escaped from Chris, he was waiting for her at the lift and gave her a beatific grin as she joined him.
'Going my way?'
She walked into the lift and they travelled down together. 'You aren't going to let me expire of curiosity, are you?' Chris asked.
'Definitely,' she told him.
'How can you be so hardhearted?'
'Easily, it's a gift.' The palms of her hands were perspiring, she pulled a tissue out of her bag and wiped them while Chris watched, his face speculative.
'He's obviously someone special,' he guessed aloud. 'You're in quite a state.'
Lindsay walked out of the lift and halted seeing Daniel standing in the foyer talking to a laughing receptionist who was looking at him as if Santa had just delivered him, gift-wrapped. Lindsay had never liked the girl, she decided.
'I'll ring the office,' the receptionist said as Daniel smiled at her. 'She may have left.'
Lindsay started towards the reception desk, her high heels clicking on the stone floor, and Daniel swung in her direction. His grey eyes shot over her and she gave him a curt nod.
'Sorry to keep you waiting, I was delayed.'
He was in a formal, striped suit and crisp white shirt today, his tie a lustrous maroon silk; he looked oddly remote, unfamiliar. His lean, brown face had a controlled smile in it, but the smile did not show in his eyes, they probed her face as though she was an enemy he faced across a minefield. That was how she felt, too. She looked at him coldly because she needed all her armour, all her weapons. This time she was not going to face him empty-handed and already in a losing position.
Daniel glanced past her at Chris, who was hovering behind her shoulder. Lindsay reluctantly introduced them, aware of Chris's curiosity in every nerve, and the two men shook hands. Chris had a coaxing smile on his face, Daniel didn't smile at all, he eyed Chris assessingly from head to foot in one smooth look.
'We must rush, I'm afraid,' he said to him. 'We're late already. Nice to have met you.' Taking Lindsay's elbow, he steered her out of the building and she heard Chris wandering behind them, gloomily guessing that when she got back to work she was going to face a barrage of questions from him. Chris had no sense of shame, if he wanted to know something, he asked and went on asking until he was satisfied.
'Good looking guy,' Daniel said without pleasure, watching her out of the corner of his eye. 'How long have you been working for him?'
'Oh, ages,' Lindsay said blithely.
'You seem to get on well with him.'
'I do,' she said, and halted as she saw the gleaming limousine waiting for them at the kerb with a uniformed chauffeur standing beside it. The man whisked open the passenger door and Daniel slid Lindsay into the car, joining her a second later. Lindsay saw Chris standing on the pavement, watching them in fascination. She resisted the temptation to put her tongue out at him, keeping her profile turned towards him. 'Where are we going?! she asked Daniel. The chauffeur got into the driver's seat and started the engine, the car moved off.
'To have lunch,' he told her with a quick, sideways look. 'You look very businesslike, do you like working at Vivons?'
'Love it.'
'What exactly do you do there?'
'Public relations,' she said. 'Publicity, advertising… we all come under the same department and I've worked on all three.'
'Will you be sorry to leave?' He sounded so casual she didn't realise what he had said for a few seconds, then she did a double-take.
> 'I'm not leaving Vivons.' She sat up, turning to stare fixedly at him. 'No way, don't even think that for a second. I enjoy my job, I'm going to keep it. I'd be bored out of my skull doing nothing all day.'
'Don't get aggressive with me,' Daniel muttered, frowning. 'You gave up your job at the bank.'
'Who wouldn't?' Lindsay retorted. 'It was dead boring, but working at Vivons isn't. I'm good at my job and I get a kick out of it.'
'The idea's ridiculous,' he said. 'You won't need a job.'
'Who says I won't? I'll decide what I need.'
'You'll decide?' he echoed slowly, staring at her, the bones in his face locked tight in grim impatience, and Lindsay outfaced him, her eyes defiant.
'That's right. It's my life and my job.' The car was slowing and she looked out of the window vaguely, her mind set on the little argument they had been having, only to jerk awake as she realised where they were. They had entered the curved drive-in of the block of Mayfair flats Where Daniel lived, and she flung him a suspicious look.
'What are we doing here?' 'We're having lunch here,' Daniel told her coolly as the limousine stopped. He got out and came round to hand her out of the car. The chauffeur stood there, his face blank, and Lindsay didn't feel like arguing with Daniel in front of him, she had no choice but to allow herself to be led into the building, and he knew she wouldn't be able to do much about it. He had kept her mind on their row while they drove here, looking back she suspected that he had deliberately trailed his coat for her to pounce on—he was a devious swine.
In the lift she turned on him, her hands curled into fists at her sides, anger flaring in her green eyes. 'You knew I thought we were going to a restaurant! You deliberately didn't tell me you were bringing me here.'
'That's right,' he agreed lazily. 'You wouldn't have come otherwise.'
'You…' Words jammed her mind as she tried to find a description vivid enough to make clear how she felt about him, she looked at him in helpless, seething fury, and he laughed.
The lift doors slid open and Daniel took her arm and half led, half thrust her towards the front door of his flat. He had two homes in London, this spacious penthouse flat where he lived himself and a house a quarter of a mile away where his mother lived but where he often stayed, usually when he was entertaining visitors, since title house had far more room. The flat only had three bedrooms, and was a short walk from Daniel's office headquarters, so that he could be immediately available night or day in a business crisis.
Halting at the door, he glanced down at her with mockery in his smile. 'Try to look pleasant for Mrs Henshaw.'
Lindsay opened her mouth to answer that and he put a hand over her lips. 'No backchat,' he warned, and she felt like biting the hand, then he took it away and rang the bell. The door was whisked open and Mrs Henshaw stood there, smiling.
'Oh, Mrs Randall, it's good to see you. How are you? You look very well.'
'I'm fine,' said Lindsay, smiling back. Mrs Henshaw was a short, thin, neat woman with a slightly harassed expression at times and pale blue eyes that dominated her otherwise unmemorable face. They were protuberant, enormous, always glazed as though she might be going to cry. 'How ire you, Mrs Henshaw?' Lindsay asked her, and the other woman shrugged cheerfully.
'Mustn't grumble.'
It was embarrassing to face her; Mrs Henshaw had been an onlooker during the months when Lindsay was left alone night after night while Daniel was supposedly working. The other woman must know far too much about Daniel's private life, Lindsay was uneasy with her, and she sensed uneasiness in Mrs Henshaw, too.
'We'll have lunch whenever you're ready, Mrs Henshaw,' said Daniel, moving away, and the housekeeper gave Lindsay an odd look, saying: 'Mr Randall, could I have a word?'
'Problems?' Daniel asked, half-smiling. 'Don't tell me you've ruined our lunch?' He was looking amused as he waited, but Mrs Henshaw's expression was agitated.
'Oh, sir, it wasn't my fault, I didn't know what to do…' Her nervous words stopped dead as a door opened and put strolled the blonde Lindsay had seen with Daniel the other night.
'I thought I heard your voice,' she purred, and linked her arms round Daniel's neck, smiling into his eyes. 'I just had to talk to you, darling.' She appeared not to notice Lindsay, she ignored Mrs Henshaw, all her attention on Daniel. She put on a good act, Lindsay thought sourly: lashes fluttering, her full pink mouth lifted as though for a kiss, the lipstick moist and glowing, her body deliberately arched against him.
'What's the matter, Carolyn?' Daniel asked coolly, his hands going up to unlock her arms and pull them down.
'I'm not happy,' the blonde told him, pouting. 'A promise is a promise—you can't say you didn't give me your word I'd get everything I want, but now Harry tells me your people are being awkward.' She came just up to his shoulder; a tiny, curved creature whose every movement shouted sex appeal, and Daniel looked at her with amused indulgence.
'Mrs Henshaw, would you give Mrs Randall a drink? I won't be a moment.' He put his arm around the girl's waist and walked her away to the room he used as a study. Lindsay watched, her teeth meeting. Somehow she hung on to her smile, she wasn't going to let Mrs Henshaw see her real feelings. She walked into the room which the blonde had emerged from, her head held high and her expression unconcerned, aware of the housekeeper scurrying at her heels.
'What can I get you, Mrs Randall? Will you have a sherry?'
'That would be nice,' said Lindsay sitting down in one of the deep, smoothly upholstered chairs. The room had been newly decorated, and recently; she had a shock as she realised that, she had expected it to look exactly the same, and finding that it didn't was disorientating. The furniture was all covered in blue suede, the material dung softly to her hands as she touched it, the feel of it sensuous. The Carpet was new, too, a deep-piled white on which were laid some Persian rugs whose colours glowed vividly; red and green and blue.
'Sweet or dry?' Mrs Henshaw asked, and Lindsay told her: 'Sweet,' smiling politely. She was feeling numb, it was stupid to feel hurt because Daniel had redecorated the home they had shared together. What had she expected? That he would keep it exactly the same? Reason told her she was being stupid, but she resented it, she felt he had betrayed her all over again by altering their home.
Mrs Henshaw handed her a delicate glass of warm, golden sherry and hovered. Didn't she like to leave Lindsay alone? Or was she trying to say something? Lindsay pretended not to notice her, she sipped her sherry, her eyes lowered.
'If you want anything…' Mrs Henshaw mumbled; and Lindsay looked up, nodded.
'Thank you,'
Mrs Henshaw went out and Lindsay looked around the room taking in everything, recognising nothing. What had he wanted to do? Erase all memory of her?
The door opened and Daniel came in, wariness in his face. 'Sorry about that,' he said quickly, his glance skimming across the room towards her.
'I'm sure you are,' Lindsay smiled, ice in her eyes.
'She was uptight about the contract she's signing with us,' he said, pretending not to notice the glacial nature of the smile.
'Just business?' she asked, her tone sarcastic. 'It looked pretty personal to me.'
'Carolyn calls everyone darling,' he shrugged, getting himself a glass of whisky. 'She's an uninhibited girl.'
'So I noticed, she must be very popular.' With men, Lindsay added mentally; the blonde girl had apparently, found other women invisible, she hadn't so much as glanced in Lindsay's direction.
Daniel turned, smiling drily. 'I must be crazy,' he said, looking at her with raised brows, 'getting involved with you again—red hair, green eyes, a temper like blazing oil, and a nasty, suspicious little mind.'
'I didn't imagine the way she hung on your neck and oozed sex appeal,' Lindsay snapped, then thought back over what he had just said and added tersely: 'And nobody asked you to get involved with me again.'
He drank some whisky, watching her over the glass, his eyes brooding. 'When I eat lobster I come out in
a rash,' he said irrelevantly, and she stared, lips parted in bafflement, until he added with a wry grimace: 'But I can't resist the stuff, although I know what will happen if I give in to temptation.'
Lindsay coloured, her throat beating with an over-rapid pulse. It wasn't very flattering, being compared to lobster, but what he had actually said hadn't mattered so much as the dark, brooding stare with which he had said it.
He took a step towards her and she shrank, trembling, afraid of the expression in his eyes.
There was a light tap on the door and a second later Mrs Henshaw came in, smiling, to tell them that lunch was ready. Over the meal, Lindsay asked Daniel: 'Have you talked to Stephen yet?' and he nodded.
'It's all settled. I'm becoming his partner, he'll still be running the factory, but he'll be answerable to me. My people will work out the details. I'll put somebody in there to work with Stephen, my accountants insist on that, we're investing a lot of money and they want safeguards.' He gave her a brief, dry smile. 'But your brother's pride won't suffer too much, I promise you. Anyone who bailed him but would insist on similar terms.'
Lindsay kept her eyes on the plate in front of her, she was having trouble eating the delicately flavoured Chicken Bretagne which Mrs Henshaw had served with saffron rice and fresh peas. It was a dish which Lindsay had always liked; Mrs Henshaw's memory was good.
'Have you told Stephen…' she began, faltered, then added: 'That I…' And broke off again, unable to think of a way of phrasing it.
'That you're coming back to me?' Daniel asked softly, and she felt his eyes on her flushed face. 'No,' he said. 'I thought we would be subtle about that, it might look suspicious if the two pieces of news came together. We'll wait a week or two before we tell him, I think.'
'How tactful,' Lindsay said bitterly. 'Is that for your sake or mine? Stephen might be angry if he knew how you'd blackmailed me;'
'He's stiff-necked,' Daniel said. 'I'm sure he'd refuse my help if he found out.' His voice taunted her. 'Of course, if you choose to tell him…'
'No!' she exclaimed with violence.
'Somehow I thought you wouldn't,' Daniel murmured.
'That's what you're relying on,' she flung back at him. 'You wouldn't want anyone to know how low you'd stoop and you're banking on the fact that I'd hate my brother to know what you've forced me to do!'
The Sex War Page 11