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Authors: Anne Mather

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Charlotte looked as though she might refuse, but eventually
she resumed her seat, staring at the solicitor with wary eyes.

"I have in my possession a letter from Faulkner," said Mr. Falstaff slowly. "In it, he sets out a certain contract he made
with your father in return for lending him a
vast
sum of
money."

"What kind of a contract? Let me see the letter."

"All in good time, Miss Mortimer.
Briefly, it waives your
father's debts in return for - something else."

"Oh, do stop hedging. What 'something else'?"

"You, Miss Mortimer.
You!"

"Mel" Charlotte sank back in her chair aghast. "What do
you mean -
meV

Mr. Falstaff looked most unhappy. "Miss Mortimer,
during our little talk I've tried to explain that Mr. Faulkner
is a rather - remote figure. He cares little for anyone, and in
consequence there are few women in his life. Nevertheless,
he does
realise
that some day he will have to retire, and when
that time comes he will require an heir, someone to carry on
the organization after he is dead
- "

"You - you mean
- "
Charlotte gasped disbelievingly,
trying to make light of something that was too ludicrous to
be true. "Good lord, what does he think I am?
A brood mare?"

"Please, Miss Mortimer. This is no laughing matter."

"You're damn right. It's not. It's stupid, ridiculous! I
can't believe that anyone in this day and age could have
seriously considered something so - so barbaric! Me? Marry
a man I don't even know?
A man old enough to be my
father!"
She hesitated. "I'm presuming marriage is what, he
has in mind."

"Oh, yes. The solicitors were most definite about that."

Charlotte shook her head. "I suppose I should be flattered. He might have decided just to
use
me !

"Miss
Mortimer !"

"Well, it's madness!"

"Mr. Faulkner is a very determined man."

"Well, it's not on, and that's that."

"I'm afraid that's not that, as you put
it
.?”

"Why not?"

"I don't think you've really considered what this could
mean, Miss Mortimer. Alex Faulkner owns you just as surely
as he owned your father.
Your house, your clothes, your
car ... Even the company."

"There's still the insurance."

"I doubt they'll pay out."
     

"But why should they suspect? You said yourself, you
didn't know until Faulkner
- "

"Miss Mortimer, I have my position to consider. They will
have to be told. But even if I remained silent, Alex Faulkner
would not."

"You mean - he would inform the police?"

"If you fail to agree to his plans, he might go to any
lengths."

"The - the
swinel
"
Charlotte felt almost physically sick.
"Why is he doing this?"

"Because he wants you - as his wife."

"But why?
Why me?"

"Perhaps your father
- "
He broke off. "I don't know. He's
not looking for a woman he can love, Miss Mortimer.
Just a mother for his son."

"My God, it's
feudal !"
Charlotte squared her shoulders.
"Well, let him do his worst. Let him take the company - and
the house - and the car! I can earn a living. I have a job
already. I don't need his money, even if Daddy did."

She was refusing to consider the other implications behind
all this. They were too painful to contemplate here, in this
dry dusty office, in company with this dry dusty man.
  
.

Mr. Falstaff leant towards her. "Charlotte," he said, using
her given name for the first time. "Charlotte, don't think too badly of your father. If you want my opinion, I think he did
take his own life
— "

"Because he couldn't face what he had done!"

"No. No, to try and salvage what he had done. Charlotte, remember the insurance. He only took it out a few weeks
before he died. Obviously, he thought if Faulkner got his
money..."

Charlotte held her breath. "Do you think
- "

"No. It's no use." Mr. Falstaff was very definite about that.
"After receiving the -
er
- communication, I contacted
Faulkner's solicitors by telephone. They stated emphatically
that Mr. Faulkner is no longer interested in a settlement of the
debt"

"But - but is that legal?"

"Well, it's not illegal. Not in the circumstances. It does involve a certain amount of moral blackmail, but that's not
illegal either. Clearly, your father underestimated the man."

"What do you mean? What kind of moral blackmail?"

"Consider, Charlotte, what the press could make of your father's suicide. Are you prepared to have his name dragged
through the mud?"

Charlotte shook her head. "If what you say is true, my
father died because of me. Do you think he'd care about his
name being smeared because of it?
If it stopped Alex Faulkner
getting what he wanted?"

Mr. Falstaff sighed wearily. "You forget - the contract."

"I signed no contract."

"No. But your father did."

Charlotte frowned. "Surely Faulkner would never
publicise
that! Good lord, it would involve him just as much as Daddy."

"Not necessarily. Charlotte, you don't
realise
, a man in
Alex Faulkner's position can do almost anything without
suffering the consequences. I've no doubt he owns more
than one prominent editor of a national newspaper. Can you
imagine how this could be portrayed?
The Price of Virginity!
Business man settles Gambling Debts with his
Doughter
! The
Infamous Games People Play I"

Charlotte caught her breath. "You're wasted here, do you
know that?" she burst out on a sob. "You should be writing
the headlines
yourself !"

"I regret those were not my quotations," replied Mr. Fal
staff quietly. "They were quoted to me."

Charlotte got up again and walked restlessly round the
room. "He can't do this to me!
He can't?'

Mr. Falstaff shrugged his thin shoulders. "I wouldn't bank on it, Miss Mortimer. Not unless you're prepared to shoulder
the interest which might accrue."

Charlotte walked to the window and looked down on the
busy London
street
. Her mind was in
a turmoil
. She could
not take in all she had heard, and what she had taken in, she
could not believe. She had heard of people owning other
people, of course, who hadn't? But that her father should be
among that assembly didn't bear thinking about. Who was
this man who thought he held the power of life or death over
people? What manner of man could he be to drive another
man to sacrifice his own daughter for a game of cards? It
was like some Victorian melodrama, only she was no Vic
torian. And he was a cold, heartless shell of a man, incapable
of acquiring a wife for
himself
.

Swinging round, she said: "So where is he?
This Alex
Faulkner?
I want to see him."

"He does not live in England," said Mr. Falstaff flatly.
"And that will have to be arranged."

Charlotte's lips trembled. "Oh, yes, arrange it. I want to
tell him to his face exactly what I think of him!"

Mr. Falstaff rose to his feet. "Oh, Charlotte, please! Don't
act rashly. You're little more than a schoolgirl. Faulkner
could eat you alive!"

"Oh, really?
Not when I get through telling him what an
inhuman beast of a man he is! What a pathetic imitation of a
man he must be to get his kicks through manipulating others!"

Mr. Falstaff could see the unshed tears glistening behind
her eyes, and he shook his head compassionately. "My dear
child, stop tormenting yourself like this."

"What am I supposed to do? Accept it?"

"I think you may have to. There are worse fates."

"Are there?"

"Oh, yes. Once you have -
er
- provided the necessary
heir to the Faulkner fortune, you will be free to leave.
To get
a divorce and live comfortably -
luxuriously
- for the rest of
your life.
Why, by the time you're twenty-one, you could
be your own woman again."

Charlotte's dark brows grew together. "Did he say so?"

"It's in the contract."

"The contract!"
Charlotte drew an unsteady breath. "Where
is it? I think I have a right to see it."

Mr. Falstaff opened a drawer of his desk and withdrew a
foolscap
manilla
envelope. He passed it across to her. "Take
it home," he advised. "It's just a photo-copy, naturally. I'll
telephone you tomorrow when I have some more informa
tion."

Charlotte fingered the envelope. "Just out of curiosity,
where does Faulkner live?"

"He has an island, off the Greek mainland -
Lydros
. He
spends much of his free time there. I should also tell you that
he has homes - houses - in many of the capital cities: of the
world. There is his penthouse apartment overlooking Hyde
Park, for example, and the town house he owns on the East
Side of New York-"

"I don't want to hear about his possessions," retorted Charlotte bitterly. Then: "You - you can tell whoever it is
you communicate with that I refuse to consider this matter
any further until I get to meet Alex Faulkner."

Mr. Falstaff made a helpless gesture. "My dear, you don't
tell
Faulkner anything. You suggest."

"Then suggest it. But make sure you get it right." She uttered a sound which was half between a laugh and a sob.

"My God, imagine having to insist on meeting the man you're
expected to marry!"

At three o'clock in the morning, Charlotte went downstairs
and made herself some tea. She had been lying awake for
hours, her mind far too active to allow her to rest, her nerves
too stretched with the sense of apprehension which filled her.
She couldn't believe what was happening to her, and yet it
was
happening, and there seemed little she could do about it.

She had cared for her father deeply, but the things she had
learned about him the previous afternoon had shaken her to
the core. Briefly she recalled the little she had known of his
enjoyment in gambling, the few occasions when he had surprised her with a present, some gift in celebration of a horse
which had beaten its opponents past the post. Had she been
too young to see a deeper meaning behind it all? And, like
a drug, had it gradually gained a stronger hold upon him?
Encouraged no doubt by men like Alex
Faulkner !

But whatever had possessed him to put his name to such
an infamous document as that contract she had read with such
loathing? How could he, even for a moment, have considered
such a solution? And then to take
his own
life like that...
For now she felt convinced that that was what he had done.
Some people said that suicides were cowardly, afraid to face
life. In her present frame of mind, she was inclined to agree with them, Whichever way you looked at it, it was a horrible
mess - on the one hand cheating her, and on the other
cheating the insurance companies. It was as though the man
she had known and loved had never even existed and it was a devastating realization.

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