Dishonest woman

by Jessica Steele

  the road at the hesitancy in her voice.

  `Problem?' he prompted.

  `It's only just occurred to me, but can I sell Bramcote to you before the six months is up?'

  From his answer she gleaned Slade had not overlooked that point. 'With or without my legal people looking at your father's will for a loophole, I doubt it,' he said easily, his eyes steady on the road in front, going on to show her his brain cogs had very little chance of going rusty. 'What I have in mind is for a legally binding contract to be drawn up so that on the date you're due to inherit, the house becomes mine.'

  `Can you do that?'

  `We'll let the legal boys work out the whys and wherefores,' he said, turning to give her a smile of some charm. 'Don't worry your head about it. Once Bramcote has been valued and the contract I spoke of signed, the sale price will be paid over to you, we can get the builders in.'

  He had it all cut and dried, it seemed. The money was of no importance to her and she had no idea how long all this would take, but it was a certainty that the roof wouldn't wait until February. She could only hope Mr Forester would raise no objection to what was planned.

  Promptly at three they were shown in to see the elderly man who had handled her father's business for years. Feeling nervous, Kimberley introduced the two men, saw them sizing each other up, Mr Forester commenting as he invited both of them to take a seat that he hadn't known she was due to be married the last time she had visited him.

  `You'll want to see this, of course,' said Slade, extracting what Kimberley saw was their marriage certificate, and passing it over with the pleasantly voiced, 'We did discuss waiting a respectful amount of time, but with my wife's father leaving the will he did, and knowing how fond Kimberley is of her home; it

  seemed to us he was anxious that we marry without delay.'

  `Er—quite so,' nodded Mr Forester.

  `It's about the property we've come to see you, isn't it, darling?' Slade added, --turning to send a lingering smile her way before turning his attention back to the solicitor. Then concisely he outlined what he wanted to do.

  `I don't know,' said Mr Forester ponderously. `There may be problems with a mortgage in a case like this.'

  But when Slade told him he wouldn't be requiring a mortgage, going on to tell him the name of a well-known firm of solicitors who would be contacting him on his behalf, Kimberley saw any doubt in Mr Forester's lined face start to fade.

  By the time they left fifteen minutes later, Mr Forester had asked what work Slade did, discovered he knew his firm, and if anything was beginning to look as though he thought Kimberley had done very well for herself indeed. But she had grown far from happy with the solicitor's attitude.

  `I didn't marry you for your money,' she muttered when they reached the street—and only realised she was on the verge of being a crosspatch when she heard Slade laugh, and tease:

  `You should have told him you loved me.'

  `Get you!' she said, but had to smile herself.

  `What we want now is a reputable builder,' said Slade. 'Any idea who's the best?'

  `I don't think your solicitor would want you to have the repairs done before I've signed that contract,' Kimberley said thoughtfully, guessing that was what he had in mind—then had to stop when Slade did since he had hold of her arm.

  'You're a darling,' he said out of the blue, his eyes warm on her face.

  `What did I do?' she asked, mystified that he should

  halt her in the middle of the High Street to tell her that.

  Right there he bent down and kissed the tip of her nose, reminding her of their wedding day when in this same street she had done something similar.

  `Take back all I ever said about you being selfish. I'm supposed to be looking after your interests, not the other way about,' he said. Then he was marching her forward again, as he went on. 'Since only the best builders are good enough to have a go at Bramcote,' he said, which made her spirits rise, 'if I'm any judge they're going to have a full order book. I doubt if we shall be able to get them started before we've both signed on the dotted line.'

  It was just as well Slade had a nose for those sort of things, Kimberley thought when some time later they were on their way back to Amberton. She didn't know one builder from another, but Slade had soon ferreted out the offices of a first class firm. His only regret was that because he would be working on Monday, he wouldn't be there to show their representative, when he came, what in his opinion needed doing.

  Her mind was full of the never-ending list of things Slade had said he wanted the estimator to look at when he arrived. And it wasn't just repairs he wanted attending to either. Though Kimberley wasn't left to feel so much that Bramcote was being taken out of her hands completely, when Slade included.her in the talk of turning one of the bedrooms that had been used more as a junk room than anything else into a super deluxe bathroom.

  `Bramcote will still be yours, Kim,' Slade said suddenly, quietly, as he drove along, just as though he thought she was feeling down about it.

  `I hadn't realised so much needed doing to, to make it habitable,' she said back.

  `You'll like it when it's finished, I promise you,' he replied gravely, then went on to show that his mind

  worked far in advance of hers. 'Which leads me to mention,' he said, as if considering every word, 'that you'll have to come and stay with me in London for a short time while the builders are in.'

  `Stay with you? Leave Bramcote?' The idea horrified her and it showed in her voice. She half expected Slade to get short with' her, and she did hear sarcasm there when he said:

  `When you decide which is the lesser of the two evils let me know.' Then he was biting down whatever he was feeling, as he went on reasonably, 'Your own common sense will tell you you can't stay at Bramcote when the roof comes off.'

  Did he have to be so right? She swallowed down her irritation the way he had done. 'Shouldn't I stay around to supervise? I could stay at the Rose and Crown.'

  `We can come down each weekend,' Slade's voice overrode hers, causing Kimberley to wonder just how long the building work was going to take. Then she wasn't thinking about the builders at all when Slade told her evenly, 'And to save you from getting in a stew wondering if you're going to have to share a bed with me, I'll tell you now that if things haven't resolved themselves between us by then,' he broke off, and she held her breath, 'then I do have a spare room you can retire chastely to until they do.'

  `You think of everything!' She tried for sweet sarcasm. She wasn't liking Slade Darville and his I-dotting, T-crossing bluntness very much at that moment.

  She was on edge with him after that, fears growing as time for bed came that night, that for all he had said to the contrary, tonight might see a repeat performance of last night when he had very nearly seduced her. It would have helped if he had made some attempt to tease her out of the quiet mood that had fallen on her on that homeward journey from Thaxly, but he hadn't, and she wished mightily that she knew what he was

  thinking. She had caught him looking at her several times, his look slanting off her when he had seen her catching him at it.

  Oh, how she wished he didn't have to come through her room to get to his own! Unconsciously she sighed, then jumped startled at the way that, hearing her sigh, Slade impatiently threw down the paper he was reading.

  I'm going to—to bed,' burst from her before he could speak.

  Slade rose when she rose, doing nothing for her nervousness of him when he came and stood in front of her, stopping her from going anywhere.

  His hand came beneath her chin, forcing her head up when she didn't want to look at him. His expression grim when he felt her tremble.

  `I've left you alone with your thoughts,' he stated baldly, 'because I realise a lot had happened for you today. I thought you needed time with your own thoughts, time to come to terms with it all. I've been honest with you about the house and more gratified than you can know at the trust you've shown in me over it.' Dumbly
Kimberley stared at him. She had never seen his face so stern as he continued, 'I told you about having to move to my London home because it would have come to you anyway that you couldn't stay here, and I wanted to save you worry about where you would go. For the same reason, Kimberley, to save you from worrying, I've told you—if need be—you will have your own room. But this evening I've watched you going more and more into yourself. That sigh just now convinced me there's some maggot at work in your head.' His jaw jutted, letting her know her time for private thought was over. 'So out with it,' he said firmly. 'You're not going to bed tense the way you are.'

  Silently Kimberley damned him and his 'stay and get everything into the open' treatment. If she thought

  she would have got very far she would have walked round him and out through the door. Stubbornly she looked back at him.

  `I don't want to go to bed with you,' she said flatly. `You might wait until you're asked,' came flying back at her before she could blink.

  Then to her surprise she saw a smile surface from him as in the following split second he had sorted out what had been going through her head. And it was with deep sincerity that he was saying:

  `I've told you I can wait. Won't you try extending that trust in me you've shown over the house?'

  Bewildered suddenly, she realised what a whole lot of difference it made to her when he smiled that gentle smile at her. Tension left her almost immediately, taking with it her fears. She did trust him, she knew she did. But the words to tell him so wouldn't come.

  `Try to believe me,' Slade urged, when she stayed mute in front of him, 'when I tell you that I won't come near you until you feel you can come to me willingly.'

  `I—do believe you,' came struggling to the surface.

  She saw his smile broaden at her words. 'Thank you,' he said simply, then, his smile going wry, 'Would you try to remember in that belief that you have a husband who's merely mortal?' and while she stared solemnly at him, he added, 'Don't make it too long before you adjust to having me for a husband.'

  `I ...' she began, lost by the charm of him.

  `You could make a start right now, by kissing that same husband goodnight,' he suggested softly.

  Mesmerised by him, she felt it was the most natural thing then for her to stand on tiptoe and touch her lips to his. And her trust in him was never greater than, when it seemed his arms were going to come around her, he stepped out of her path and muttered:

  `Methinks you'd better get off to bed—my trust in

  Slade Darville is standing on shaky ground at just this moment!'

  Although Slade had moved fast when once he had her agreement to sell Bramcote to him, it took four weeks before the contract drawn up between the two sets of legal advisers was finally signed by them both.

  And it was on the Monday following that Kimberley was in the kitchen, her tender heart going out to the victims of a motorway pile-up that had just been reported on the radio. There had been scores of cars involved, the accident happening in thick fog, so the announcer had said.

  She hoped the motorway would be clear by tonight. It was the motorway Slade used to drive home. She left thoughts of the radio report to reflect how Slade had taken last Friday off to go with her to Charles Forester's office to sign everything that had to be signed.

  Bramcote was virtually his now. If she wanted it back it was too late. She would probably have to pen her name once more in February when the deeds were handed over to Slade, but that enormous amount of money that had been deposited in her name in several building society accounts was proof enough that she no longer had claim to the property.

  What she was going to do with all that money was beyond her. Slade had said that later, if it was her wish, he would invest some of it for her, but for the moment it wouldn't do her confidence any harm for her first to get the feeling of being a woman of means.

  She wasn't quite sure what he had meant by that. She had come a long way since knowing him from that almost permanently depressed creature she had been. Looking back, she was little short of horrified at the state she had allowed herself to get into, and knew she had a tremendous amount to thank him for.

  The days had turned into weeks since the night he had sworn not to come near her until she could come

  I

  willingly to him. And he had stuck to his word. Though he still wanted her—she knew that from the fact that when, although she had got into the habit of giving him a brief kiss goodnight every evening, there were some nights, more frequently this last week, when he would back away soon after the kiss, as though the feel of her mouth against his inflamed him.

  During the afternoon Kimberley got out her cooking utensils ready to make some meat pies to go in the freezer. On Sunday she was moving into Slade's London home, as the workmen were starting on Monday, and it might be a good idea to have some home-cooked meals ready for the weekend trips they were to make.

  At five she turned on the radio to listen to the news, and heard that dense fog was covering the countryside, that airfields and whole sections of some motorways had been closed. This news had only just been broadcast when the phone rang. It was Slade telling her that having had Friday off he had spent most of the day catching up and would be late home that evening.

  `There's fog everywhere,' Kimberley told him. 'I've just heard it on the news. The section of the motorway you use is closed.'

  `I shall have to find me another route, by the look,' said Slade. 'Though lord knows what time I shall get home.'

  `Don't come,' Kimberley said instantly. And added quickly, 'I mean, if things are that bad, and the radio said it was going to get worse, it could be morning before you get here—and—and you'll have a terrible journey again in the morning if it hasn't cleared by then.'

  She could hear the smile in his voice as he said, 'You sound like a lady who's anxious not to hurt my feelings.'

  Her own smile peeped out. 'It was you who said I was sensitive.' Then soberly, `Stay in London, Slade.

  I shall be worried to death if you don't.' `Worried—about me?'

  Kimberley hesitated; she had grown to like Slade. `I—er—I'm used to having you around,' she said, trying for a casual note, then heard him laugh delightedly.

  `So you'll miss me if I don't come home tonight?' `I just might,' she hedged. She heard his short laugh again, then his voice, totally serious:

  Will you be all right on your own?'

  `Fine,' she answered brightly.

  `I'll see you tomorrow, then.' He paused, then added intimately, 'Darling.'

  Kimberley came away from the phone deep in thought. She hadn't thought the time would ever come when she would go willing to Slade. But the very fact that he hadn't pressed or rushed her, had kept to his word, had gone a long way to weakening her resolve. Not counting the times recently his wit had had her laughing, even giggling once, she remembered.

  Kimberley went back to the kitchen, but didn't straight away take up the job she had left to answer the phone. Excitement started to grow in her as she sat on one of the kitchen chairs, her hands idle.

  For many minutes she didn't move. But when she did, she knew self-respect no longer came into it. She knew the period of adjustment she had told Slade she needed was over. Just as she knew the intimate 'darling' he had ended with meant that Slade too knew that his time of waiting was done.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KIMBERLEY opened her eyes to see sun streaming in through her bedroom window. In a flash she was out of bed and peering outside. Gone was the dense fog of yesterday. She smiled. Slade would be home tonight!

  A mood of happy anticipation was in her as she showered and got ready for the day. She had had to put the bedside lamp out herself last night—and hadn't liked it. It was odd, she thought, that having truly hated Slade at one time, she should now, be facing the fact that she had missed him last night.

  Half way through the morning she found herself wondering if he had missed her, and a small sigh she couldn't account for escap
ed when she thought he probably hadn't. Not that I'm going to dwell on that, she thought, wishing she could find from somewhere that confidence in herself that had been there before David had wrecked it.

  By noon David was out of her head and she was again looking forward to Slade coming home. She would make him something extra special for dinner, she thought. Perhaps he would open a bottle of his best wine to go with it, her thoughts went on.

  Then all thoughts of Slade and the pleasant evening they would have were interrupted by the sound of the garden gate, of hurrying footsteps coming up the path, of someone at the door.

  `Doreen!' she exclaimed, delighted to see her, remembering only then the card she had received from her saying she was arriving home yesterday. As she was about to compliment her on her fabulous tan, Kimberley's smile vanished at the far from pleased look on Doreen Gilbert's face as she stepped, over the

  threshold and said bluntly `Is it true?'

  `Er—is what true?' Kimberley asked, mystified.

  `I've just driven up from London. I called in at the post office for some cigarettes before I went home, and was greeted by news, talk that's all over the village, but which even now I find too unbelievable to take in.'

  Knowing Doreen's caring nature, the fact that Bramcote was her second port of call even before she went to her own home after being away for nearly two months, Kimberley saw not only which piece of news she was referring to, but that she regarded it as urgent that she come and find out the truth for herself.

  `You mean about Slade and me?' she said.

  `Is it true?' Doreen came in hurriedly. 'That you've married him!'

  `We were married three weeks after we met,' Kimberley said quietly, and watched as, sagging visibly, Doreen dropped to sit down.

  `Oh, Kim, Kim,' she said distractedly. 'Why did you have to do that? Didn't you hear a word of anything I said to you that night before I went on holiday?'

  `It's all right,' Kimberley tried to assure her, but Doreen wasn't listening.

  `I told you—warned you about him! Told you he's not the marrying kind.'