A Past Revenge

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘And I said nothing to make you believe any different,’ she recalled dully, remembering the strange and not always comprehensible conversation they had had that night after he had made love to her.

  ‘I should have known,’ he grated. ‘Your look of innocence was too real to be the faking of a professional, your bewilderment afterwards too genuine. I came to my senses a little while I was in the shower, decided I should talk to you, find out who you really were. But of course you had gone by the time I returned to the bedroom—’

  ‘You told me to go!’

  ‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘It was then that I realised the full extent of what I’d done to you. I realised then that far from being hired by my niece you must in fact have been one of her guests. I telephoned her with the intention of finding out more about you, but before I could say anything she started teasing me about going off with one of her schoolfriends—’

  ‘Finishing-school,’ Danielle cut in determinedly. ‘I was nineteen!’

  ‘Nevertheless, I was left with the feeling that I had seduced a child, that I had brutally taken your innocence, searching you out then would have got us nowhere. I had made a mistake with you, but I didn’t love you, had nothing I could offer you to erase that memory from your mind, could give you only more embarrassment about the error I had made. I decided it would be better if we just forgot the incident. But you haven’t forgotten it, have you, Danielle?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Neither had I, not completely. Oh I buried the memory at the back of my mind, but it was always there.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s a little late to apologise now, but I’m going to anyway. I never meant to hurt you, Danielle.’

  She remained aloof from the warm pleading in his voice. ‘As you said, it’s a little late for apologies.’

  ‘Danielle, you said the debt had now been paid,’ his voice softened encouragingly. ‘Couldn’t we start again, with none of this between us?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘But I love you,’ he groaned huskily. ‘I love you so much. I’d do everything in my power to make up for the past. Won’t you even give me a chance?’

  Her mouth was tight. ‘I said that debt had been paid, Nick,’ she rasped coldly. ‘But there’s another, much worse one, that I can never forgive.’

  He frowned, his eyes narrowed questioningly. ‘Are you talking about the way I lost my temper last night and forced you to make love with me?’

  ‘We both know it wasn’t force,’ she derided.

  ‘Then what?’ his voice rose as he held back the frustration of his anger. ‘Danielle, you have to tell me what else I’ve done to you!’

  ‘I didn’t intend telling you anything,’ she scorned. ‘But you came here expecting a few words of apology to make everything right between us. But it never will. You see, you say you had nothing to offer me after that night,’ her voice cracked emotionally. ‘But a little moral support from you then would have wiped out all the misunderstanding of the past. Put quite simply, Nick, you let me down when I most needed you, and I couldn’t trust you now not to do the same thing again. I wouldn’t even have wanted you to marry me then, just not let me go through all that alone,’ she added contemptuously.

  ‘You mean people found out about that night?’ he frowned his puzzlement.

  ‘Of course they found out,’ she scorned.

  ‘Did Carly tell—’

  ‘No one told anyone anything, Nick,’ Danielle rasped bitterly. ‘No one needed to. A pregnancy is a difficult thing to hide.’ She looked at him unflinchingly, the whole truth out now.

  Nick seemed to go very pale, almost grey, his expression haggard. ‘I didn’t make you pregnant, Danielle—’

  ‘Then who do you think did?’ she scoffed harshly.

  He swallowed hard, pain flickering in the depths of his eyes. ‘Are you saying I was the father of your child?’ he asked disbelievingly.

  ‘I’m stating it as a fact,’ she glared at him.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head. ‘Danielle, I couldn’t have made you pregant—’

  ‘Oh no?’ she taunted hardly. ‘Just wait here for a moment.’ She ran into her bedroom, quickly finding the three things she wanted, taking them back into the lounge to hand them to Nick. ‘I realise none of these things are “conclusive evidence”,’ she mocked. ‘But they’re all I have—besides the fact that I know I’ve never slept with any other man but you.’

  Nick looked at her searchingly for several minutes before turning his attention to the things she had handed him. He looked first at the medical card that had accompanied her each time she visited the doctor, the weeks and date of her pregnancy clearly stated. His hands shook slightly as he moved on to the next paper she had given him, the birth certificate of her daughter, with his name clearly shown under father.

  He looked up, swallowing convulsively. ‘You named her Nicole,’ he said dazedly.

  Danielle hardened her heart against how shaken he was. ‘Choosing my daughter’s name was my prerogative,’ she told him coldly.

  ‘But you called her Nicole,’ he repeated determinedly, as if the knowledge were precious to him.

  Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘Don’t read any deep significance into that,’ she snapped dismissively. ‘I just happened to like the name.’

  His breathing became ragged as he looked down at the last object she had given him, the miniature she had painted of their daughter. ‘She—’ he ran a hand over his eyes. ‘She looks so small,’ he finally choked.

  ‘She was,’ Danielle told him woodenly. ‘Too small.’

  His eyes seemed overbright as he looked up at her. ‘Danielle, I had no idea—I couldn’t have guessed—’

  ‘You didn’t even bother to find out!’ she accused heatedly.

  ‘For a very good reason.’ He drew in a controlling breath. ‘Danielle, my marriage had been far from happy for some time before the divorce, and although my wife wanted to leave me I refused to let her, didn’t believe in divorce. My wife used the one weapon she had to force me to release her. Danielle, she used the fact that I was incapable of giving her a child.’

  She became suddenly still, searching the pale harshness of his face, seeing only the intensity of pain in his eyes, the way he held on tightly to the miniature he still held. ‘Why would you believe such a lie?’ she prompted softly, suddenly filled with uncertainty.

  ‘She did lie, didn’t she,’ he stated fiercely.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered him simply. ‘Nicole was definitely your daughter.’

  ‘A daughter my ex-wife convinced me I could never have!’ he rasped. ‘No wonder you hate me. God, I have to—I have to be alone for a while. Please—please excuse me.’ He pushed the miniature into her hand with the medical card and birth certificate, leaving before she could attempt to stop him.

  In that moment Danielle felt a compassion for him she had thought she could never feel for such a man. For seven years Nick had been under the misconception that he was incapable of being a father because his ex-wife had lied to him to achieve her freedom. The shock of now finding out about Nicole must be tearing him apart.

  Nicole. She had lied when she told Nick she just ‘happened’ to like the name. She had deliberately chosen it because it was the nearest female version to his own name, to the name of the man she had loved despite his desertion of her.

  And she loved him still!

  CHAPTER TEN

  THAT knowledge didn’t come to her in a blinding flash, she knew with startling clarity that it had always been there, pushed to the furthest recesses of her mind so that it didn’t cause her any more pain. But she had loved Nick seven years ago, and she loved him now, knew that was the reason she wanted him to be angry when he made love to her last night; his gentleness would have been the breaking of her.

  How her heart suffered for him now, for the pain and disillusionment he must be going through after seven years of believing himself infertile to know that her daughter, the child that had so angere
d him when he found out of her existence, was his own daughter. How could any woman, for whatever reason, be so cruel as to tell a man like Nick he was incapable of being a father.

  Nick was the sort of man who would have wanted a big family, sons and daughters to carry on the Andracas name. And he would have been a good father to them too. The fact that Beverley Andracas had got away with her lie all these years was a cruelty that must be tearing Nick apart.

  But the pain of believing himself infertile was now over for him, and he would start to think of a future for himself once that knowledge hit him. The question she had to answer was where, and if, she fitted into those plans.

  There could be no doubt that she loved him, deeply, that she had never stopped loving him. But he had hurt her once, more than she cared to think about. Admittedly, she could now understand his behaviour a little better, could even feel pity for what he must have suffered, but she didn’t know if she could ever give him her love so trustingly a second time. In her confusion she wanted to see the only people who could maybe help and advise her.

  Her father was drinking whisky when she was shown into the lounge, her mother shooting him concerned glances, which wasn’t surprising when he hardly drank.

  ‘I don’t quite know where to start,’ Danielle began tentatively.

  ‘With Andracas, I should imagine,’ her father growled.

  She frowned. ‘As a matter of fact, yes.’

  ‘I knew it,’ he snapped. ‘Ellie, I don’t—’

  ‘Thomas, you said you wouldn’t interfere,’ her mother gently reminded him.

  ‘I know,’ he scowled. ‘But I can’t sit by and watch her ruin her life over a man like him.’

  ‘I think you should both know that Nick has asked me to marry him,’ she told them quietly.

  ‘Marry him …!’ her father repeated dazedly.

  She nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good God—marriage!’ her father rasped. ‘I thought the man was a confirmed bachelor. You told him no, of course.’

  ‘Thomas!’ her mother frowned at him, obviously able to read more in Danielle’s expression than he, anger blinding him to anything but his own disapproval. ‘Let Ellie speak.’

  He still looked angry, but at least he was quiet now, glaring belligerently at the whisky in his glass.

  Danielle moistened her lips, nervous now that she had both their attention. ‘First of all,’ her voice sounded very harsh in the silence. ‘I didn’t meet Nick for the first time a few months ago, I knew him before that.’

  ‘But—’ a warning look from her mother once again silenced her father. ‘Go on,’ he muttered.

  ‘Seven years ago,’ she added pointedly, waiting for their reaction to that.

  Her father seemed speechless suddenly, her mother finally the one to answer. ‘Ellie; is he—’ She began again, very pale herself now. ‘Is he—’

  ‘Nicole’s father?’ she finished gently, hoping to lessen the shock. ‘Yes, he is.’

  Her father swallowed what was left of his whisky. ‘He was married seven years ago,’ he grated.

  ‘In the process of being divorced—because of his infertility,’ she added softly.

  ‘Tell us everything, Ellie,’ her mother gently prompted.

  As she did so she felt her own anger towards Beverley Andracas grow, finding the trust for Nick that hadn’t quite been there this morning.

  She had been as much in the wrong in the past; knew now, and had known then, that Nick would never have denied the existence of his own child, even without the fact that it would have proved his ex-wife a liar. Her own pride, in the fact that he couldn’t love her, had been what had denied them being together then.

  And it was only pride that prevented them being together now, using the grudge of the past to deny them the happiness they could have together. Pride was only a fleeting emotion, being with Nick was to be alive, fully, vibrantly alive.

  ‘And I want you both to know,’ she concluded with a new resolve. ‘That if Nick still wants me, I’m going to marry him.’

  ‘You love him,’ her father stated flatly.

  ‘I always have,’ she nodded. ‘And this time he loves me too.’

  Her father took her in his arms to hold her tight. ‘If he’s what you want then he’s what we want too.

  ‘Thank you, Daddy,’ there were tears in her eyes as she hugged him.

  ‘And I expect to be able to give the bride away,’ he added sternly. ‘The man’s arrogant enough to just take you!’

  She laughed happily. ‘And I may just let him.’ She sobered suddenly. ‘But I have to find him first. He was very upset when he left me.’

  ‘He’s strong enough to bounce back,’ her father assured her.

  She hoped so, she sincerely hoped so. There could be no doubting that Nick was a strong man, but even he couldn’t be expected to take the news of his daughter’s birth, and death, calmly.

  Barnham had no idea of his employer’s whereabouts when she phoned the house, and although he could have been lying by instruction—she doubted Nick wanted company just now!—she didn’t think he was. Which only left the apartment.

  She received no answer to her knock, but when she tried the door she found it was open, going quietly inside. There was no evidence of Nick’s presence in the lounge, and yet she knew he was there, could smell the cigars he always smoked, finally tracking him down to the small study she found off the lounge, seated behind the desk, his head buried in his hands.

  ‘Nick.’

  He looked up at the sound of her voice, his face haggard, his eyes bloodshot. ‘Danielle,’ his voice sounded strained.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I’ve brought you a present.’

  He seemed to stiffen, sitting straighter in his chair. ‘Oh yes?’ he was very wary.

  She reached into the pocket of her denims, taking out the small tissue-wrapped object. ‘I want you to have this,’ she put it down in front of him on the desk, stepping back.

  His hands shook slightly as he slowly unwrapped the object, staring at the miniature of Nicole as it lay flat in the palm of his hand. As Danielle watched and waited for his reaction she saw the tears start to fall down the harshness of his grooved cheeks.

  ‘Oh, Nick!’ she choked, running to put her arms around him, feeling him shudder against her as he buried his face against her breasts, sobs wracking his body. ‘Nick, it’s all right, darling,’ she soothed, hating to see this strong man bowed by his own grief, but knowing that it was a necessary part of the healing process. ‘It’s all right, Nick,’ she repeated firmly as she felt him regaining control.

  His arms tightened about her. ‘Why are you here?’ he asked gruffly.

  ‘To give you your daughter. And me too, if you still want me,’ she added uncertainly.

  He looked up at that, the ravages of emotion still evident in the pale harshness of his face. ‘You’re the one thing I can’t live without!’ he groaned his need.

  Her hands framed his face as she bent to kiss him. ‘I feel the same way about you,’ she told him between kisses. ‘I love you, Nick. I love you!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ humility didn’t sit well on his broad shoulders. ‘I’ve hurt you very badly.’

  ‘You were hurt more yourself.’

  ‘Damn Beverley to hell.’ He stood up agitatedly, moving away from her. ‘I telephoned the specialist in New York that we were both dealing with,’ he spoke woodenly. ‘He told me that both Beverley and my tests were positive, that there was no reason either of us shouldn’t physically have a child.’ His hands clenched at his sides. ‘He also told me that Beverley had been on the pill for most of our married life,’ he ground out. ‘That she had a psychological aversion to having children. She lied and deceived me for over five years, got me to agree to be the guilty party in our divorce because she knew I couldn’t take the humiliation of being publicly branded infertile. She played on my self-conceit—and I fell for it.’

  ‘And now?’ Dan
ielle prompted softly.

  ‘Now I could wring her neck for what she did! I was in London when the results of the tests were available, I believed Beverley when she told me she had seen the specialist and he said it was my fault we could never have a child. And at the same time Nicole was already forming inside you.’ He looked at her with tortured eyes. ‘I would have wanted my daughter, Danielle.’

  ‘And what do you want now?’ she persisted.

  His eyes darkened almost to black. ‘You. I just want you. Will you marry me?’

  Relief flooded through her. ‘I thought you would never ask me again!’ She ran into his waiting arms. ‘Of course I’ll marry you,’ she told him eagerly.

  ‘Tomorrow?’ he groaned, his arms closing about her convulsively.

  She touched the hardness of his cheek with gentle fingertips. ‘I don’t think things can be arranged that quickly in this country,’ she said regretfully. ‘And my father insists on giving me away,’ she added lightly.

  Nick frowned. ‘You’ve told him about us?’

  ‘I’ve told both my parents about you.’

  ‘God, they must hate my guts too,’ he sighed.

  ‘I told them everything, Nick,’ she said gently. ‘And they understood.’

  ‘Then you must have very sympathetic parents,’ his expression was grim.

  She shook her head. ‘No one could blame you for what happened in the past.’

  ‘Not even you?’ his gaze avidly searched her face.

  ‘Not even me,’ her arms tightened about him. ‘You were right about my motives, Nick, I did love you seven years ago, I would never have gone to bed with you if I hadn’t.’

  ‘I know that. Now,’ he sighed his regret that he hadn’t realised it then. ‘I was so wrapped up in my own bitterness I couldn’t see anything else.’