by Mary Birk
“Terrence told me how worried he’d been about Michael. I wish someone would have woken me up. I would’ve been happy to do whatever I could to help.”
“We had a pretty full house in here, as it was, but thanks. I’m just grateful Rick was here. Nice to have a doctor in the house.”
“The baby looked fine today.”
Anne made herself smile. “He’s a lot better.”
Miranda looked around. “Where is he?”
“My mother has him right now. So I can rest.”
“Oh, do you want me to leave?”
“No, that’s okay. Do you mind if I sit down, though? Why don’t you sit too?”
Anne sat on the bed and laid her back against the pillows.
Miranda took one of the upholstered chairs. “Is it as bad as you thought? Having a baby? Terrence said you weren’t that keen on having children.”
Anne felt a surge of fury burn through her veins. That bastard. He’d told this woman about their private conversations. She took a deep breath. “I love being a mother. I love Michael.”
Miranda glanced at the heap of Anne’s dresses at the end of the bed. “You must buy your clothes in the States.”
Anne remembered Terrence’s attempts to cover up her dress the night of the christening. He and Miranda had probably discussed how inappropriate her dress was. Mortified, she felt her face redden. “That’s where I live.”
“Terrence and I are glad you’re not fighting the annulment.”
Jesus, God, what next? “No, I’m not.”
“You already have someone else, I know, and he and I . . .” Miranda waved a hand. “What I mean to say is, you’re both ready to move on, I’m sure. Get this all over with.” She looked at Anne, as if she were checking to see if she would disagree.
Anne couldn’t think of anything to say. She felt sick to her stomach, then remembered she was wearing Andrew’s ring. She did have someone else, didn’t she? Even if it wasn’t the man she wanted. When this nightmare was over, she’d go to Andrew and try to fix some of the mess she’d made in his life. But she didn’t say anything, just let the other woman go on.
“He wanted to wait until the baby was born before talking to you about the annulment in case it upset you. I thought you’d rather know right away, but he didn’t agree.” Her mouth curved up in a thin feline smile. “You know how stubborn he can be. Or was I wrong?”
Anne breathed in and out slowly before she could speak. “No, actually, you were right. I would rather have known then.”
“It’s too bad the baby wasn’t the other man’s. That would have made everyone’s life easier, wouldn’t it? Especially Terrence’s.”
Anne blinked in surprise. He must have told Miranda about the paternity issue. Who else had he told? Maybe she should just wear a scarlet A on her chest. Why had she been so stupid as to have come out here? Had she actually thought he loved her even after he’d ignored her the whole time she was pregnant? Andrew had been lovely all through the pregnancy, and he was thrilled when Michael was born, even though he hadn’t turned out to be Michael’s father. That was love.
Miranda, not seeming to notice Anne’s distress, went on. “Darby told me all about it. I think Terrence was too embarrassed.”
Darby. That figured, Anne thought. But at least it hadn’t been Terrence. Good old Darby. Always there to help.
“He’s a little old-fashioned. He thinks he has to wait for us to be together until after the annulment goes through. You’re obviously not, though, so I didn’t think you’d care.” Miranda’s eyes darted toward Anne.
Anne swallowed. “I’ve told him he didn’t have to wait. He has my blessing to go on with his life.”
“Good.” Miranda smiled.
“Anything else? I really do need to rest.”
Miranda made one of those I-hate-to-tell-you faces that made it clear that she didn’t hate to at all. “Actually, yes. Terrence is too polite to tell you himself, but the truth is that now the christening is over, everyone would prefer you left. Everything is so uncomfortable with you and your family here.”
“Uncomfortable.”
“You know what I mean. Besides, I’m sure you’re probably just as anxious to leave as everyone else is to have you go.”
Anne thought numbly Miranda was right. Her leaving early would be better for everyone. She’d leave tonight, but she still had to sign the annulment papers.
The door to her room opened and Meg came in. Her sister’s eyes narrowed when she saw Anne’s visitor.
Miranda sprang up. “I’d better be going. I hope we can be friends. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other through the years, with Michael going between the two homes.”
Meg barely waited for the door to close behind Miranda. “That bitch.”
Anne’s stomach roiled up with sudden violence. She clapped her hand over her mouth, jumped up and rushed into the bathroom. She vomited until there was nothing left in her stomach, then crawled into bed and cried.
*****
Lady Flora changed from the mocha satin gown she’d been wearing since the midday dinner into her dressing gown. She hoped her headache wouldn’t blossom into a full-blown migraine. She knew what had caused the blasted thing. Between poor Rodney’s troubles, Miranda’s obsession with Terrence, Lance telling his friend the family secrets, and the tension between Rafe and George, she’d had enough stress for several migraines.
Flora had spent some time downstairs with Juliette after her smoke break with Rodney. She didn’t often get the chance to see her best friend, so when they finally managed to get together, they always had a lot to talk about. With the preparations for the christening and then Christmas, Juliette had been tied up until now. So they’d escaped to Juliette’s morning room where they could talk in private. Later, Flora had cornered Lance, who’d categorically denied telling Darryl about Miranda being in hospital. He’d been lying, of course, but at least now he knew he’d better be more careful.
She’d hardly been back in her room five minutes when Miranda knocked at her door, then let herself in. Her daughter wore black leggings with that oversized off-the-shoulder black sweater coming down almost like a very short skirt. Miranda was an attractive young woman, Flora thought. If she would just settle down and manage her expectations, the girl could have a nice life. And her parents could stop worrying.
Miranda smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Do you have time to chat, Mum?”
“Of course.” Flora felt cautiously optimistic. Her daughter didn’t seem to be mad at her anymore.
Miranda stretched out on Flora’s bed.
Flora sat down on the chair by the vanity table. “What are you so happy about, sweetheart?”
Miranda fingered the jade pendant her father had given her for Christmas and wiggled her toes. “I went to talk to Anne about Terrence.”
“You did?” Flora was horrified, but she was careful to control her reaction. She needed to find out exactly what Miranda had done without setting her off.
“I wanted to make sure they were really going to go through with the annulment.”
Flora made certain her face didn’t look judgmental. She’d learned her lesson on that from previous encounters with her daughter. What could Miranda have been thinking to do something so intrusive to someone going through a marital crisis, especially considering the woman had just given birth to her husband’s child?
“I needed to find out for sure. Especially after he gave her that jewelry this morning.”
“It did seem a little unusual in the circumstances.” Lady Flora was trying to keep breathing deeply to stay calm.
“That’s what I thought too. I asked her if she’d agreed to the annulment, and she said she had, and she wished he would have told her earlier, before she came out here. She said she didn’t mind at all about Terrence and me. We even talked about how it would be with Michael, how we would work together so it was organized with him going back and forth between our two houses.” She finished her words, a
ll in a rush. “So you see, I was right. She didn’t seem surprised at all that Terrence and I were going to be together, so he must have told her about us.”
Flora took another deep breath. As ever, with Miranda, she needed to tiptoe on eggshells or risk dealing with the smashed eggs her daughter would inevitably hurl back. “Darling, do you think that was wise? Talking to her? It seems like this is something that’s between the two of them.”
“She was all right with it.”
“Did you tell Terrence what you did?” Flora knew with everything in her that the man would be livid her daughter had done something so invasive to his wife’s privacy, whether he was going to stay married to her or not.
Miranda examined her beautifully manicured nails. “I’m not sure if I’ll mention it to him. It’s really just between her and me.”
“Terrence won’t like you interfering in whatever is going on between him and his wife.”
Miranda got up off the bed. “Whatever. I think she’s going to leave early, not stay for New Year’s, so Terrence won’t have to dance with her again. He had to at the christening, or it would have looked odd.” Her eyes slid to Flora. “You and Daddy were certainly dancing a lot.”
“Your father is an excellent dancer. Miranda, did you notice how Terrence and Anne were dancing?” The girl would have to have been blind to miss the sexual energy between the couple.
“Of course. She’s still in love with him.”
“How did you think Terrence looked?”
Her daughter shrugged. “He looked like he wanted to have sex with her. So what? That doesn’t mean he loves her.”
“True, but . . .”
Miranda made her way toward the door. “You never told Aunt Juliette about what happened and me going to the hospital, did you? And about, you know?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good. Don’t say anything to anyone about me talking to Anne.” Miranda’s eyes glittered with an unspoken threat.
Nonetheless, Flora decided she needed to be firm. “Not if you promise to stay away from Terrence and Anne until she leaves.”
Miranda looked incredulous. “I can’t do that.”
“I’m serious. Juliette is my dear friend, and I cannot let you cause havoc in her household, especially during the holidays. If, after that, you and Terrence want to pursue your relationship, that’s fine. If you persist in interfering before Anne leaves, I will talk to Terrence tomorrow. I’ll tell him everything.”
A shadow seemed to pass across Miranda’s face, and Flora braced herself for the storm, but then Miranda nodded.
“You win, Mum. I’ll stay away from them. Can I talk to you about one more thing?”
“Of course, dear.” That went better than she’d expected, Flora thought. Apparently, the key was to be firm.
“It’s about Rodney. He’s told you what dreadful trouble he’s in?”
Flora nodded. “He has.”
“You’ll give him the money?”
“I don’t have it to give. He’s going to have to go to your father.”
“He can’t. Daddy will be so disappointed in him.”
“I’ve talked to Rodney and explained things. I truly don’t have the money. Your father will help him. He has that kind of liquidity. I simply do not. With the loss I took, I’ve had to restructure my will. I’m working with Jeremy now to finalize things.” She pointed to the desk beside where Miranda was sitting.
“Really?” Miranda leaned over, put her hand on the desk drawer as if to open it. “Like what?”
Flora moved fast, jumping out of her chair and pushing Miranda’s hand off of the drawer. “We’ll talk about it Monday after I meet with Jeremy.”
“Monday? You’re meeting with him here?”
“Yes, he has some business to take care of with the Reids as well.”
Miranda grinned. “To get the annulment papers signed.”
“Stay out of it.”
“I will. I think I’ll go take a short sleep.”
“Good idea. I’m doing the same.”
After her daughter left, Flora blew out a sigh of relief and laid down on the bed, pulling the feather comforter over her. She slipped on her eye mask to block out the light. She needed to beat this migraine before it got going. She couldn’t afford to be out of commission right now. She enumerated everything she needed to do in her mind. She needed to keep Rafe and George apart for the rest of the visit. She needed to keep her eye on Miranda and on Lance. She needed to make sure George and Rodney worked something out. Then she needed to prevail upon George to leave early. Perhaps they had taken coexistence just a little too far. There was a limit to how much civilized behavior people could be expected to show.
The pill she took for her migraine was starting to work and should allow her to sleep for a couple of hours. She’d instructed Rafe not to disturb her. What had gotten into him coming to her and wanting to have sex after all this time? It had been at least three years since they’d last forced themselves to go through the motions.
Rafe knew she was annoyed with him for his behavior at the christening, and she could tell that he, by his own turn, was annoyed with her. He’d made it clear over the years he disapproved of her dancing those vigorous dances, that she was acting indecorously and “making a spectacle of herself.” Rafe liked her to be sedate, demure, and understated. A proper wife for a solicitor. She was tired of being who he wanted her to be. She wanted to be herself again, to have fun, to be happy, to live.
She set her travel alarm clock to wake her up in time to dress for supper, then let herself sink into sleep.
Chapter 33
WHEN REID came back inside from the sledging excursion, Pippa helped him get the children unbundled from their snow gear, then sent them to the kitchen for cocoa.
“I don’t suppose Anne’s around?” Reid tried to make the question casual.
“I think she’s upstairs with Michael. He’s probably still sleeping.”
“Man of leisure.”
“I’m sure they’ll bring him down later. He’s had a busy day, and they do sleep a lot at that age—if you’re lucky.”
“He had a bad night last night, so I’m certain he’s tired. Probably Anne too.” He looked at Pippa to see if she knew anything else about how Anne was doing, but she didn’t seem to notice. He doubted Anne was confiding in his sister. “I’ll go check on them.”
Pippa smiled. “Good luck.”
“Appreciate it.”
Anne’s room was quiet from what Reid could tell from his side of the connecting door. Maybe they could talk before it was time to go downstairs to supper, then they could go down together like this morning, and he could carry the baby. He knew he was being ridiculously optimistic, but if she really hadn’t been sleeping with Grainger, maybe he still had a chance. He knocked on the door, softly, but there was no response. He tried again. Nothing. Most likely they were still resting. He’d wait for them downstairs.
Meanwhile, work would help him take his mind off of the unbelievable mess of his personal life. He took his laptop and went down to the library to call Harry and get updated on what was going on in Glasgow.
“Guv, you’re calling on Christmas? Seriously?”
“You’re working, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I’m not on holiday.”
Reid kept his eyes on the screen as the information on the investigation came up. “Did Allison get through the telephone records?”
“Not yet. She’ll be back in tomorrow, even though it’s Saturday. She’ll be in all weekend. Frank and Oscar will be in, as well, and we’ll resume where we left off. I’ve stopped the surveillance of Von Zandt’s place in town.”
“Why?”
“Because I know who’s inside.”
“Who?”
“Rebecca Pomeroy—odd pick for him if she’s more than just an employee. Apparently, she’s watching his place for him while he’s out of town. Probably to keep blokes with bugs like me out. The informati
on on her is on the flash drive Allison sent with you—in the section that includes the recent additions to the file on Von Zandt.”
“I saw that but hadn’t spent much time on it as of yet.” He scrolled down and clicked the file open. Then he browsed through its contents. “Rebecca Pomeroy’s the blonde?” Reid examined a photo of a woman. Harry was right, she was attractive, but she wasn’t what he would have expected for one of Von Zandt’s mistresses, if that’s what she was. Reid was doubtful. Von Zandt’s last mistress had been a pretty nineteen-year-old girl, and then he’d set his sights on Anne. Unless the man’s taste had seriously changed, Reid was betting this woman was an employee, no more.
Rebecca Pomeroy was in her late thirties but looked older than she was, largely because of her ample measurements. Despite the softness in her body, her face, while pretty, had a little hardness, almost a meanness to it.
“That’s a strange alliance.”
“True, not the kind of woman you’d think a bloke with his kind of money would keep around him.”
“She’s Scottish?”
“Aye. From Glasgow.”
“Record?”
“A couple of arrests for soliciting, but that was over fifteen years ago. Indications are she’s running a brothel but she’s managed to keep from getting arrested. Word on the street is she’s running it for Van Zandt.”
“Not a surprise. One of his go-to money machines.”
“We’ve done a recon of Von Zandt’s country place, but Lynstrade Manor still appears to be closed up. No one’s there.”
Lynstrade Manor, Von Zandt’s estate outside of Glasgow, had figured in the cat and mouse game between Reid and Von Zandt last spring when the other man had maneuvered to have the firm Anne worked for, and Anne herself, do the renovation of the estate’s gardens.
“And his son, Henry?”
“In Germany, with the wife and kiddies at the Black Hills estate where his mother lives. Von Zandt’s spending the holiday there as well, though the divorce is still going forward, as far as we can tell. Christmas must be an occasion for which he and the missus have decided to call a truce. I expect they’re together for the sake of the family.”