Emma’s Secret (14 page)

After requesting two more glasses of champagne, Gideon turned to his father. ‘Enlighten me about Jonathan Ainsley, Dad…tell me what he and Sarah did.’

‘Ainsley headed up the real-estate division of Harte Enterprises in the sixties and seventies, and he ran the company very well. But suddenly business slackened, and he seemed to be missing a lot of big deals. Later we found out that he had been steering these really valuable deals to a company called Stonewall Properties, and—’

‘But why?’ Gideon cut in.

‘Because secretly
he
owned Stonewall Properties with his old friend from his Eton days, Sebastian Cross. Ainsley was actually cheating Harte Enterprises out of thousands and thousands of pounds by doing what he did. He undermined the financial stability of the whole division.’

‘And Sarah Lowther was involved in this too?’ Gideon asked, a brow lifting.

‘Yes, although somewhat indirectly, I think. She had invested money in Stonewall Properties, but to be honest, Gid, I don’t believe Sarah knew of her cousin’s treachery to the family. Once Paula and her father had enough evidence against Ainsley, they confronted him, kicked him out of the company and out of the family. And Sarah as well.’

‘They didn’t have any choice,’ Gideon asserted, giving his father a direct look. ‘And then
he
went to Hong Kong and made a fortune in real estate.’

‘That’s true. Ainsley was always quite brilliant at business, we all knew that,’ Winston explained.

‘Julian told me Ainsley came back later and tried to get control of Harte stores. How could that happen?’

Winston shook his head, his face changing, becoming suddenly saddened. ‘It was actually Paula’s fault. Ainsley did return to London in the nineteen eighties, just around the time she put ten percent of her shares in Harte’s on the market. Naturally he snapped them up. And those shares, combined with what he owned, gave him an advantage.’

‘But why did she sell some of her shares?’

‘She wanted to buy a chain of stores in the States. Shane and I both understood her desire to create something of her own, but we also knew she was being flawed in her judgement. It’s the only mistake she’s made, to my knowledge. Other than marrying Jim Fairley, of course.
That
was a disaster.’

Towards the end of the evening, Winston turned to Gideon and stared at him intently for a moment or two.

Gideon frowned and leaned towards his father. ‘What is it, Dad? You’re looking perturbed again.’

‘No, no, I’m fine. I was actually thinking about the great dynasty that Emma and Winston senior created, and I was hoping you might be the one to continue it…continue the line of descent.’

‘I’m not sure I’m getting what you really mean.’

‘Toby’s not likely to present me with any grandchildren as long as he stays married to the actress. Adrianna doesn’t want any children, and I don’t think Toby will be able to make
her
change her mind, whatever
he
believes.’

‘But there’s Paula, Dad, she’s got a large brood—’

‘True,’ Winston interrupted peremptorily. ‘And she’s a Harte. But her name is O’Neill.’

Gideon nodded, suddenly understanding what his father was getting at. ‘We
are
the last of the family to bear the Harte name, that’s a fact.’

Winston sat back in his chair, pondering for a moment, a reflective look on his face, and he finally said, ‘Far be it from me to prevent you from sowing your wild oats, and admittedly, you’re only twenty-eight. But…well, I was just wondering if there was anyone on the horizon? A girl you might be
serious
about. A likely prospect, so to speak.’

‘Not really, Dad.’ When Gideon saw his father’s crestfallen expression, he added swiftly, ‘Actually, I’ve just met someone, and I like her a lot. But it’s too soon. I don’t want to make any wild predictions and then disappoint you.’

‘But is she the marrying kind?’ Winston probed.

Gideon nodded. ‘I certainly don’t think she’s the type of woman a man would attempt to sow his wild oats with–no, no, not at all.’

Winston beamed at him. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting her, my boy.’

Much later that night, Gideon discovered he was unable to fall asleep. He lay wide awake in the darkness, his mind racing, as he thought of all the things he and his father had discussed.

He had been startled to discover that Paula, the most brilliant person he knew, had actually made such a bad judgement that she had almost forfeited her grandmother’s beloved stores. In the same vein, he had been shocked that a member of their family had resorted to such treachery–and for personal gain when he already had so much. ‘Ego and greed,’ his father had said earlier. ‘A fatal combination that has destroyed many other men as well as Jonathan Ainsley.’

And finally there had been the conversation he and his father had had about him settling down, getting married and having children. If Winston had been a little obvious, Gideon had not minded, nor had he been put out. He loved and admired his father, and he fully understood where he was coming from, how much he longed for grandchildren. As did his mother. It was only natural they would feel that way.

Evan Hughes.
He had met her only today, yet he had been utterly captivated and a little thrown by his reaction to her. He did not know her, or anything about her, and yet he felt as if he
did
know her. She was beautiful, and she had been warm, outgoing. He found her sexually attractive, very desirable. And yet he discerned in her a refinement that gave her an added dimension.

Tomorrow he would phone her, invite her out…He fell asleep thinking about Evan Hughes.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

T
essa Fairley Longden picked up her handbag and carry-all, glanced at her desk, then hurried across the room, snapping off the light as she left her office.

She was dressed entirely in white, one of her favourite colours; a soft and flowing long cashmere cape was thrown over her shoulders on top of a white wool suit and matching silk shirt. Her boots were a deep cream colour as were her crocodile handbag and the leather carry-all stuffed with files. The all-white ensemble underscored her ethereal appearance, which came from her wonderful head of pale silvery-blonde hair, her silvery-grey eyes and her ivory complexion which was perfect. Her delicately-wrought face looked as if it had been carved by a master sculptor, and to say she was lovely was an understatement. Tessa was staggeringly beautiful, so striking that heads turned wherever she went. She was tall, slender, willowy, and always wore the most beautiful and costly clothes. They were unique, distinctive, and often by lesser-known designers who catered to her wishes and her whims. Tessa knew what she wanted and aimed to get it no matter what, when it came to her clothes, at least.

She didn’t always get what she wanted in other areas of her life, particularly when it came to her husband Mark Longden. Of late he had been more difficult than usual, bad-tempered, irritable, and extremely impatient with her. It seemed to her that he only kept his temper when their little daughter Adele was around, or in front of her family. He wouldn’t dare be rude or nasty in the presence of her mother and Shane, but he didn’t seem to care how he treated her in front of their friends. Not that they went out much any more; he was always staying late at the office, or going to see clients at weekends. It occurred to her now that he didn’t have much time for her these days, unless it was to rant and rave at her about nothing of any great consequence.

A couple of times lately she had smelled alcohol on his breath, and he had looked flushed, his eyes glazed. But he had denied he had been drinking too much, and had flown into such a violent temper she had quickly retreated behind the safety of the bathroom door for half an hour.

He was always contrite after his volatile behaviour, almost slobbering over her, asking, begging, her forgiveness. And, of course, fool that she was, she always forgave him. Until the other day when he had raged at her about some chipped paint in the kitchen. He had been so ridiculous she had abruptly stood away, looking at him objectively, and she had begun to wonder what exactly was wrong with him.

As she turned the corner, walking rapidly towards the bank of elevators, she saw her half-sister Linnet, and she immediately called,
‘Linnet!
I need to talk to you.’

Linnet paused, swung around, a smile lighting up her face when she saw Tessa. ‘You look beautiful, absolutely gorgeous Tess, in all that white!’ As she spoke Linnet stepped towards her sister, was about to embrace her. Then the smile slipped when she saw Tessa’s face.

Tessa moved closer to the elevators, and said in a cold tone, ‘How dare you countermand my orders about the auditorium. You had no right to do that. I am the senior executive here, and what I say goes.’

‘But I didn’t know—’

‘I can’t stand here wasting time with you. I’m late as it is,’ Tessa interrupted in a strident tone, and stepped into the elevator. ‘Just don’t do things without asking my permission,’ she snapped as the door closed, cutting off her view of Linnet.

That girl goes too far at times, Tessa thought, as the lift carried her down to the ground floor. She was suddenly seething about the younger woman, and once again all of her resentment and jealousy of Linnet rose to the surface. There was no question in Tessa’s mind that Linnet O’Neill was the favourite child of her mother and Shane.
Shane O’Neill.
In her own way she loved him, he had always been kind, had brought her up as his own. But she was
not
his biological child, and deep down that rankled. How could he love her as much as Linnet when she was not of his blood? In a way, though, she was glad she was not an O’Neill…
she
was a Fairley, came from an aristocratic line that went back centuries. Why, she herself was an aristocrat. Everyone said she looked like the Fairleys, and she knew she resembled Aunt Edwina, who was also part Fairley and a countess. To hell with Linnet, she thought, and pushed her out of her mind.

As she went through the side entrance of the store, nodding to employees as they, too, left for the evening, Tessa decided to be especially nice to Mark tonight. She did love him, despite his behaviour of late, and she wanted to keep the marriage intact. She had learned that the best way to make sure their time together was absolutely tranquil was to be acquiescent. She had to meet his every demand.

It was cold, and she shivered as she stepped out into the street, but within a second her driver had pulled over, was getting out of the front seat, coming around to her side of the car.

‘Good evening, Mrs. Longden,’ Milton said, opening the door.

‘Good evening. I’m going straight home, Milton, thanks,’ Tessa said, as usual scrupulously polite with the help.

Settling back against the seat, Tessa decided she would make pasta tonight. She had a well-stocked larder, because she often worked late herself, and frequently she and Mark did not sit down to supper before nine o’clock. They would eat earlier; she had made a point of leaving at five-thirty, so that she could start preparing their meal. Mark liked food and vintage wine, and she aimed to please.

When Milton pulled into the driveway of the Hampstead house where they lived, Tessa saw at once that Mark was already home. His car was parked outside the front door.

‘Thanks, goodnight, Milton,’ Tessa said as she alighted. She gave him a faint smile and asked him to come for her at eight the following morning. He said he would and bid her goodnight.

Running up the front steps, she let herself into the house, calling as she usually did, ‘Adele! Cooee! Where’s my little girl?’

A split second later Adele came running into the entrance hall, shouting, ‘Mumma! Mumma! I’m here!’

Crouching down, arms outstretched, Tessa caught her child as she hurtled forward into her embrace. Adele kissed her cheek and snuggled closer.

After a moment, Tessa held the little girl away from her. ‘How’s my sweetiepie?’

‘I’m fine. Daddy’s here.’

The words had hardly left the child’s mouth when Mark’s shadow fell across them. He stood in the archway that led through into the large kitchen.

Looking up at him, smiling, Tessa saw that his face was cold, his eyes angry. He seemed somehow menacing to her. Although her smile congealed, she said evenly, ‘Hello, darling, you’re home early.’

‘And you’re late. As always,’ he murmured, his tone quiet but icy.

Standing up, taking hold of Adele’s hand, Tessa said, ‘It’s only six, Mark. Come on, Adele, let’s go and find Elvira.’ As she spoke she took off her cape and threw it on the bench in the entrance hall.

Elvira, the young nanny, was stacking the dishwasher, and she looked up and smiled at Tessa and Adele as they came into the kitchen together. ‘Hello, Mrs. Longden, Adele ate well tonight. She’s just had a nice supper. Steamed vegetables and a small piece of grilled sole. And raspberries for dessert.’

‘It sounds delicious. Thanks, Elvira. You look after her so well.’

‘Good nutrition, Mrs. Longden.’ Closing the dishwasher, Elvira added, ‘I’ll take her upstairs in a few minutes to get her ready for bed.’

‘Oh I can do that,’ Tessa replied quickly. Looking down at Adele, she went on, ‘Shall I read you a story, darling?’

‘Oh yes, Mumma.
Please.’

‘I need to talk to you. Right now, Tessa,’ Mark said, suddenly looming over her.

‘But I want to read a story to Adele. Can’t it wait a few minutes?’

‘No, it cannot.’

There was such a nasty undertone in his voice, Tessa nodded, and then bent over Adele, murmured. ‘Daddy needs me. I’ll come up shortly. Elvira can get you ready and then I’ll come and read the story to you before you go to sleep.’

Adele smiled up at her mother, whom she adored.

Taking hold of her arm, Mark led Tessa across the hall into the library, closing the door behind them. This was yet another room in the house that Tessa loathed. She found it cold, dark and depressing, rarely entered it.

‘What’s so important that it couldn’t wait a few minutes?’ Tessa asked, looking at Mark, smiling, wanting to keep everything calm between them.

‘I want to talk to you about the hours you keep,’ he answered. ‘You stay at that damned store far too late, and you work too hard. And some good it’s all going to do you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She’s not going to leave anything to
you.
Paula O’Neill doesn’t care about
you.
Linnet’s her
favourite.
She’s the love child, born out of Shane’s loins. Did you know he was her lover before your father was even
dead?
She was screwing him when she was on her business trips to New York…when you were left behind in England with the help. And did you—’

‘That’s not true!’ Tessa exclaimed, automatically defending her mother. ‘I know Mummy and Shane were friends then, in fact they have been friends all their lives, since they were children. They grew up together in Yorkshire. You’re being ridiculous. I won’t have you talk about my parents like that.’

‘Oh.
Shane’s suddenly a parent, is he?’

‘He did bring me up, Mark, and he was kind and loving. I was only a small child when Jim Fairley was killed in the avalanche.’

‘And wasn’t
that
convenient for your mother and her lover. An avalanche. An act of God!’

‘Oh stop this! You’re being disgusting. And God knows where you got that kind of information. Why it’s…almost
libellous.’

‘No it’s not, because it’s true. And I got it from a very good source.’

‘Who?’

‘I never reveal my sources. Rule of the game, you know.’

Tessa glared at him. ‘I demand to know who is making these scurrilous remarks to you about my mother and Shane.’

‘A little dicky bird. Look, why don’t you ask her yourself. Ask her about her weekends in New Milford, Connecticut. The long weekends she spent with Shane in his barn there.’

Tessa shifted slightly in the chair, frowning. She stared at Mark and then looked away, puzzled and disturbed by his stories.

He broke the silence, saying suddenly, ‘You won’t get to be head of the stores, believe me you won’t. And you won’t get to inherit Pennistone Royal either. Linnet’s going to get it all. Poor little you, you’re the one who’s going to get a royal screwing.’ He laughed coldly.

‘I don’t believe any of this,’ Tessa said, striving to keep her voice steady. But she was upset, shaking inside, and she wondered if there was any truth in what he was saying. Abruptly, she jumped up, walked towards the door. ‘I’m going to read to Adele.’

‘Not so fast,’ he cried, striding across the room, grabbing her arm before she could reach the door. He pulled her into his arms, and kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth. With his free hand he locked the door. He walked her over to the sofa, and pulled her down with him, throwing a leg over her, pressing his face against hers. In her ear he said, ‘I’m going to give you a royal screwing right now, Tessa, my love.’ He fumbled with her white silk shirt, and growing impatient with the buttons he simply ripped it down the front, put his hand in her bra and got hold of her breast. He brought his mouth to it, kissed the nipple, and then suddenly he bit it.

Tessa screamed, struggled with him, pushed him away, and sat up. Slender though she was, she worked out every day and she had amazing strength in her arms. She gave him a sudden hard shove and he rolled off the narrow sofa onto the floor.

‘You bloody bitch,’ he shouted.

‘You hurt me, Mark,’ she said quietly, at once conciliatory, knowing his temper was about to flare up. ‘Why did you bite me?’

He struggled to his feet without responding.

Standing herself, Tessa edged toward the door. He caught hold of her arm, almost wrenching it out of its socket. ‘Don’t spend too much time with Adele,’ he murmured, his voice unexpectedly soft. ‘I have an urgent need for you tonight. You’re going to have to meet your wifely obligations.’

‘I always do, Mark darling,’ she whispered.

His answer was to grab hold of her hand and press it against his crotch. ‘See what you do to me? Come on, Tess, let’s have a quickie now. Right there on the sofa. The door’s locked. No one can get in.’

‘Later, Mark darling.’ She leaned into him, kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘Let me deal with Adele first.’

He took her face between his hands, squeezing it hard, so hard it hurt, and tears sprang into her eyes. ‘Don’t be too long,’ he hissed. ‘Otherwise I might have to—’

‘Have to what?’ she cut in.

He did not answer. He merely gave her a cold stare in return, let go of her, walked across to the door and unlocked it. ‘Be my guest,’ he said, his voice menacing again.

Tessa hurried out and ran upstairs, fastening her jacket. She almost stumbled into Adele’s room, and then took a deep breath, calmed herself. With a smile she walked towards the bed, saying, ‘And what story shall I read to you tonight, darling?’

‘Anything you want, Mumma.’ Adele patted the bed. ‘Sit here.’

Tessa did as she said, picking up one of the books on the beside table, opening it.

Adele leaned closer to her mother, and touched her cheeks. ‘Why are you crying, Mumma?’ she whispered. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, sweetiepie.’ Tessa smoothed her cheeks with her fingertips and then wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding her close.

Twenty minutes later, when Adele had fallen asleep, Tessa turned out the lamp but left on the night light, and slipped out of the room quietly.

Walking slowly downstairs she took total control of her emotions, and went into the library. Mark was sitting at his desk, going through the mail, and he glanced up, instantly smiled at her. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he murmured, getting up, coming towards her. ‘I hope I didn’t hurt you?’