Marriage Under Suspicion (10 page)

'Nor for a Mr Hartley, either, madame.' He spoke with a certain quiet satisfaction, the

fixtures and fittings safely preserved. 'Perhaps you have mistaken the restaurant.'

'I have not,' Kate said glacially, 'mistaken the restaurant. Or the day, or the time,' she

added swiftly, forestalling him. 'Perhaps I could have a quick look round—see if I can

spot them.'

They certainly weren't at any of the white-clothed tables in the centre of the big room, but

the velvet-festooned booths around the side were less easy to investigate.

The waiter recoiled as if she'd suggested organizing a cockroach hunt in the kitchens.

'Of what point, madame, when I have already told you that your husband Monsieur

Hartley is not here?'

'My husband's name is not Hartley,' Kate said, flushing slightly as the waiter cast his eyes

to heaven.

'It's Lassiter.'

There was a pause. Then the waiter said with clear reluctance, 'We do have a booking in

that name, madame, but the reservation was for two persons, and his guest has already

joined him.'

'Fine,' Kate said evenly. 'Please take me to them.'

For a moment, she thought he was going to refuse.

She took a determined step forward, and saw him shrug, almost fatalistically, before

leading the way to a booth at the far end of the room.

She'd intended to say 'Surprise, surprise' or something equally bright and crass to get her

over the initial embarrassment of gatecrashing their lunch.

But that was before she saw that Ryan's lunch companion was not the stocky, dark-haired

figure of Joe Hartley, but a stunning redhead in a little black dress, her flowing pre-

Raphaelite tresses practically brushing his shoulder as she leaned towards him, smiling

and pointing out something on the menu.

She had good teeth, too, Kate noticed detachedly. Which was a pity since they were about

to be knocked down her throat.

She was shaken by the white-hot flame of rage which engulfed her. And by the pain, too.

She couldn't pretend any more that this could all be a terrible mistake, or even a bad

dream. The living proof was right in front of her, and looking up as if butter wouldn't

melt in her mouth.

'Kate.' Ryan got to his feet. He was looking totally composed. Not a trace of guilt

anywhere, she realised incredulously. 'So you decided to join us, after all.'

He sounded almost amused, she thought with fury. As if he'd been expecting her to turn

up.

Had that been his intention, all along? Had he laid a deliberate trail, meaning her to

follow him here for the ultimate confrontation, because he thought she wouldn't make a

scene in public? Well, he was about to discover his mistake.

'Yes,' she returned, her voice shaking a little. 'But I can see I'm intruding.'

'Not at all. I'll have the waiter bring another chair.'

Kate shook her head. 'Oh, no, darling.' She gave a brittle laugh. 'I wouldn't dream of

spoiling a beautiful friendship. And anyway, I have to find someone to change the

locks—always supposing you did plan to come home tonight.' Her voice had risen

slightly, and she was aware of curious looks from other tables. Of the head waiter

hovering, looking apprehensive.

Ryan's hand closed round her wrist. 'On the contrary,' he said between his teeth. 'You will

sit down, before Penny concludes I'm married to a certifiable lunatic.'

'Do you think I give a damn what your—Penny thinks?' A bright spot of colour burning

in either cheek, Kate tried to release herself. 'I gather she's a writer too—although she

prefers writing letters to novels.'

'That's her job.' His tone was blunt. 'And I think you should pay heed to her opinion. You

could be seeing a fair bit of her over the coming year while Joe's in New York.'

'What the hell are you talking about?' Kate tried to keep the aggression going, but her legs

felt suddenly wobbly, and she was quite glad to sit down on the chair brought by the

watchful waiter.

'I'm Penny Barnes, Mrs Lassiter.' The redhead, looking wary, stretched out a polite hand

to be shaken across the table. 'I've taken over as your husband's editor at Chatsworth Blair

during Joe's absence.'

'Oh, really?' Kate ignored the conciliatory gesture. 'I suppose that's why he told me he

was meeting Joe today.'

'Actually, I didn't,' Ryan said quietly, reseating himself. 'That was all your own idea. I

told you three months ago that Joe was being transferred to the New York office for a

year.'

She stared at him. 'I don't remember anything of the kind.'

'Probably not.' He looked at her dispassionately. 'You were far more interested in a

contract you'd just landed for some Sloane Ranger's wedding. I felt at the time you hadn't

listened to a word I'd said.' He watched the colour drain out of her face, and signalled to

the waiter. 'Would you bring my wife some still mineral water, please? And hold back

our order until she's had a chance to look at a menu,' he added.

Kate's mouth felt as dry as a desert. She shook her head numbly, not daring to look at

Penny Barnes. 'I— I'm not hungry.'

'Of course you are.' His tone brooked no further argument. Her role now, she understood,

was to sit still and behave herself. And there wasn't a thing she could do about it. Not

now she'd made herself into the fool of the century.

A huge starched napkin was laid reverently across her lap, making retreat well-nigh

impossible anyway. She looked at the cutlery being laid before her, and wondered if any

of the knives were sharp enough to cut her throat.

Ryan was ordering for her. 'Madame will have boudin noir with apples, followed by a

filet mignon and a green salad.'

And a side order of cyanide, thought Kate.

The lunch proceeded, with no further reference to Kate's being there. Penny Barnes was

clearly charming, intelligent and efficient. She and Ryan were discussing points in the

story outline he'd originally submitted that Joe had thought might prove problematic, and

he was explaining how he'd dealt with them.

At any other time, Kate would have found the conversation fascinating. A glimpse into a

world she needed to understand. A world she used to be part of, she realised with a sense

of shock.

Now, she simply felt sick to her stomach, pushing the unwanted food round her plate and

trying to hide it under a friendly lettuce leaf.

Looking back, she could indeed recall Ryan beginning to tell her something about Joe,

and her interrupting him, thrilled with her own news and wanting to share it. To impress

him with her own success.

Well, I've really impressed him today, she thought bitterly. She could only imagine what

the repercussions might be.

He handed over the draft of the new novel from his briefcase, and Penny received it as if

it were holy writ, promising to read it and let him have an opinion in the next two weeks.

At last she looked across the table at Kate and smiled, apologetically. 'Sorry to be talking

shop all the time.'

Kate shook her head. 'Don't be. It was my own fault for butting in like this,' she added

haltingly, burningly aware of Ryan's ironic gaze.

'Oh, no, I think it's good when a partner can be involved in a writer's career, at least at

some level,' Penny said seriously. 'When he's absorbed in a book, you must feel very

isolated.'

'Kate hasn't time to feel isolated.' Ryan leaned across to refill her glass before she had

time to answer. 'She has her own career to occupy her.

'Oh?' Penny looked at her enquiringly. 'What is it that you do?'

'I'm a partner in a firm called Special Occasions,' Kate said quietly. 'Basically we

organise parties and celebrations for people.'

'That must be terrific,' Penny laughed. 'Making people happy. Seeing them at their best.'

'It doesn't always happen.' Kate thought of the cancelled wedding. She glanced at her

watch. 'And it's high time I got back to the office and did some more organising.'

She pushed back her chair and rose. 'But please don't let me break up the party. I'm sure

you have a lot more to discuss.' She shared a taut smile between them both, and left.

Her intention was to get a taxi, but she still felt vaguely nauseous, so she decided to seek

out the powder room first.

At any other time she'd have revelled in its unashamed opulence. Would have tested the

comfort of the raspberry velvet sofa, and tried out the latest fragrances displayed in cut-

glass flagons.

But all she wanted to do was rest her head against the coolly tiled wall of her cubicle, and

wait for the dizziness and churning to pass.

It seemed an eternity before she began to feel better. She emerged from the cubicle, went

over to the vanity unit, and ran cold water into one of the basins, splashing it over her

wrists and on to her face.

'Are you all right?'

With a start, Kate realised she'd been joined by Penny Barnes.

'Fine,' she returned ultra-brightly. 'I was just reviewing the amenities. Aren't they

something? Over the top, or what?'

Penny laughed, but her expression was still concerned.

'You look awfully pale. Would you like me to get Ryan for you?'

'Heavens, no,' Kate said hastily. 'I promise you, I'm all right.'

'Well, I hope so. I wouldn't want to drag Ryan off to the north of England if you were

going to be ill. It was good of him to step in at the last moment anyway.'

'Is that what he did?' Kate kept her tone casual, as she brushed a dusting of blusher across

her cheekbones. 'He didn't mention it.' Or the fact that he was going at all.

Penny sighed. 'Yes, he's guest of honour at a thriller writers' convention in Yorkshire. It

was supposed to be Louis Houghton, only he fell down some steps at his villa in the south

of France last week, and busted his leg. Trying to emulate one of his heroes, according to

his wife,' she added, rolling her eyes expressively. 'And Ryan, bless him, agreed to fill the

breach.'

'Ah,' Kate said lightly, 'So that's how it all came about.'

'It's a pity you can't go with him. It's a lovely place, apparently, right on the edge of the

Dales. But he said you wouldn't be able to get away.'

'It is rather short notice,' Kate agreed levelly. She summoned a smile of sorts. 'Well—

goodbye, Miss Barnes. It was—good to meet you.' She took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry

about the—the misunderstanding when I arrived.'

'Let's forget the whole thing.' The other's eyes were warm. 'And, to be accurate, it's Mrs

Barnes, but I'd prefer Penny.'

'And please call me Kate.' She gave another constrained smile, and left.

Ryan was talking to the head waiter—probably being told what a vandal she was—and

didn't notice her stealthy departure. She was lucky enough to pick up a cruising cab right

outside the door, and directed the driver to take her to the boutique to pick up her other

clothes as she sank thankfully into her seat.

Penny Barnes had been very nice about it all, she thought wretchedly. But then Ryan was

an important author to Chatsworth Blair. Maybe she'd felt they had to humour her for his

sake.

All the same, she wondered if Penny would share the joke when she got back to her own

office. 'My God, you should have seen her. Ryan should have put her into his next novel.

The jealous wife. The bitch from hell.'

She shuddered. She'd been taught a lasting lesson today. Yet when she'd seen them

together she'd been so sure. Thought she'd been so clever, tracing them to the restaurant...

The cab braked sharply to avoid a motorcycle courier, and Kate caught at the grab handle

to steady herself, but thoughts jolted into place as well.

Because nothing had actually changed, she told herself sharply. Penny Barnes might not

be Ryan's significant other, but someone else was. She had the evidence of the

anonymous letter and the phone call she'd overhead to vouch for that.

This particular trail had been false, but some day soon she would pick up the right one,

and the search would begin all over again.

Only, she thought, suddenly forlorn, I don't want it to.

And, closing her eyes, she felt the anguished prick of tears against her lids.

Kate was frankly dreading her return home that evening. Ryan was bound to be good and

angry, and although she knew her suspicions were perfectly justified under the

circumstances she could hardly tell him so.

Because he could simply deny any accusations she chose to fling at him. Or, he could

admit everything, and leave her. Go to his other woman. And that was the last thing she

needed to happen.

I want my marriage back, she thought fiercely. I'm not going to let it slip away because of

one stupid lapse on Ryan's part. If that's all it is, of course, she amended, wincing. For all