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‘Ah yes, Owen. Have you told him about me? Does he know anything about … Emma’s well-kept secret?’
‘No.’
‘Did you lose your nerve, Evan? Surely not. Not you.’
‘No, not really. But I did decide it might be better to wait until he arrives in London later this month.’
‘Don’t you think you ought to give him an inkling about what’s happened before he comes? About me, I mean? It would prepare him for what will no doubt be a bit of a shock.’
‘It did cross my mind,’ Evan responded, biting her lip, looking worried. ‘But then I decided it would be smarter to tell him face to face.’
Robin frowned, stared ahead, his light-coloured eyes fixed on the distant horizon. After a moment, he began to speak slowly, thoughtfully. ‘He’s not going to like what he hears. It wouldn’t surprise me if he were very angry. After all, some of his illusions are going to be shattered. He’ll certainly be angry with me about the past.’
‘And maybe he’ll also be angry with his mother for not being truthful,’ Evan suggested succinctly. ‘Gran lied to him.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that, my dear. Glynnis did the right thing. It was wiser not to tell him I was his father. Richard was married to Glynnis for some months before Owen’s birth, and whilst he may not have made her pregnant, he loved that child as his own. Richard’s behaviour was impeccable, and I think Glynnis did what she thought was best, you know.’
‘That’s true, but …’ She let her sentence go unfinished.
‘But what?’
‘My father’s not easy, Robin.’
A look of comprehension swept across his face and he exclaimed, ‘I remember something, Evan. When Paula brought you here for the first time you told us you thought your father had come across some papers after Glynnis died.’
‘I did. But he never actually said he found anything. It was just a feeling I had that sprang from his sudden, rather odd attitude towards the Harte family.’
‘Oh. What kind of attitude?’ Robin asked, his curiosity aroused.
‘He became a bit … well, down on them. I guess that’s the best way of describing it. He wasn’t happy about my job at Harte’s, and that was mystifying to me because he had agreed I should visit London to seek out Emma Harte … just as Gran had suggested on her deathbed.’
Robin ventured, ‘I think he stumbled on a diary, or letters, or other items from long ago, which Glynnis had perhaps forgotten about.’
‘That could be so,’ she agreed. ‘And what he found might have turned him off the Hartes. Is that what you’re suggesting?’
‘Yes, it is.’ There was a pause. ‘I wonder if it might not be wiser to let sleeping dogs lie, my dear? Why tell your father anything at all? He doesn’t need to know the truth about his paternity. Perhaps it would be more prudent to let it remain the secret it’s always been. Why not let him continue to think Richard Hughes was his biological father?’
‘That makes sense,’ Evan exclaimed, and instantly felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her chest.
Almost as if he instinctively knew what she was feeling, Robin put his arm around her, held her close to him. ‘We know the truth, and that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ was all she said, and she leaned against his shoulder, closing her eyes, filled with relief.
They did not speak for a short while, lost as they were in their own thoughts. Evan was thinking about her boyfriend Gideon Harte, wondering how she would explain her sudden change of heart, yet knowing that whatever she decided to do he would back her to the hilt, would be on her side. Gideon had an understanding heart, and he was sensitive to her feelings about her father. In fact, he himself had suggested, only the other day, that maybe she would be better off not telling her father he was a Harte. She had been ambivalent; Gideon had then said he trusted her judgement and whatever she did ultimately would be all right by him.
As for Robin, his thoughts were centred on Evan Hughes. How glad he was that this young woman had come into his life. Very late in his life, that was true, but at least he had been fortunate to become aware of her existence. He had grown to know her over the past few weeks, and he liked what he had learned about her. Once before he had held her close like this, when she had comforted him, and he was glad to hold her again, to silently bond with her, and to comfort her.
The day she had arrived with Paula to meet him for the first time he had feasted his rheumy old eyes on her lovely face. He had noticed that she looked like his twin, Elizabeth, when she had been twenty-seven, as Evan was now. Evan. His granddaughter. His only grandchild. His blood flowed through her veins, and one day, if she married and had children, it would flow in their veins … she ensured the continuation of his bloodline, his genes. It had always been important to him, the flowering of a family, but before the arrival of Evan this had not seemed probable.
Instantly, Jonathan sprang into his mind and a chill settled over him. He could only pray that his son would never harm Evan. Certainly Robin had made absolutely sure that Jonathan really did understand that his inheritance was intact, and not jeopardized by the advent of Evan. In fact, he had gone to extraordinary lengths to prove this to his son, taking steps that involved both their solicitors and the execution of various documents, which were binding.
On the other hand, Jonathan was unpredictable. For a long time now he had considered his only child a loose cannon and, even worse, a sociopath. There was no way of knowing what he might do. Or when.
‘Are you all right?’ Evan asked, feeling Robin’s sudden tension.
‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ the old man answered, forcing a smile. ‘But I must admit I do feel the cold even on a sunny day like this. Let’s go inside, Evan. I have something I wish to show you.’
Together they walked into the library, and Robin murmured, ‘Do sit down on the sofa, I won’t be a moment.’
She did as he said while he hurried to the desk. Her eyes followed him. What a fine-looking man he was; tall, erect, and handsome in old age, and today he was much more robust and full of vigour. This pleased her. She had only just found him, and he was already eighty … the thought of losing him dismayed her.
A moment later Robin was sitting down next to her and handing her a photograph, a snapshot taken a long time ago. Staring down at it she exclaimed, ‘It’s of you and my grandmother. My goodness, what a gorgeous couple you were! So good-looking.’
He laughed in delight at her compliment. ‘We did look wonderful together, you know, everyone remarked on that. As you can see, I’m wearing my RAF uniform and your grandmother is the height of fashion for the times, very much the glamour girl, as always. Well, anyway, it’s for you, Evan.’
‘Oh Robin, how lovely of you. But are you sure you want to part with it? You’ve had it for such a long time.’
‘Who better to give it to than – our granddaughter. I want you to have this picture of the two of us when we were young and in love and before things had gone so horribly wrong between us.’
She nodded, touched his arm affectionately. ‘I shall treasure it always.’
His blue eyes lit up and he smiled at her. ‘Now, will you take pity on an old man and stay for lunch?’
‘I’d love to,’ she said.
But as she walked to the dining room with Robin, Evan knew there was nothing but trouble in store. Her intuition told her that her father would be difficult, and that the situation would more than likely explode.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_f6552384-e92e-5a4f-acbb-596457234019)
Tessa Fairley Longden stood on the terrace, watching her small daughter bustling around like the proverbial mother hen, placing Daisy her porcelain baby doll, Teddy the bear, and Reggi the rag doll in the chairs she and Adele had just arranged around the small tea-table.
Once the child was satisfied she looked up at her mother, and said, ‘Daisy is keeping Teddy company and I’ll sit next to my Reggi.’
‘That’s a good idea, Adele. I’m sure they’ll be happy wherever you’ve put them,’ Tessa answered, smiling down at the three-year-old, who was looking up at her questioningly.
As she spoke Tessa made a mental note to wrest the rag doll out of her daughter’s clutches as soon as possible. It was dirty and bedraggled, quite disgusting looking really, but the child loved it so much, clung to it, never let it out of her sight. Tessa had long realized it was like a security blanket to Adele, but it did need washing, by hand, of course, so that it would not fall apart. Tonight, she thought, I’ll wash it tonight if I can get it away from her.
She was enjoying being here in Yorkshire with Adele, her first bit of peace since leaving her husband, Mark Longden.
Bending down, Tessa smoothed her hand over her child’s silky, silvery-blonde hair, and murmured, ‘I’ll be in the library working, sweetheart, if you need me.’
Adele nodded, and said in a solemn voice, ‘At your computer, Mumma.’
‘That’s right.’ Tessa’s heart overflowed with love for this extraordinarily beautiful child, so precious to her, the one person she loved the most in this world. Leaning over her, she kissed the top of her head, lingering for a moment longer on the terrace; but after a second or two she finally drew herself up, took a deep breath and walked briskly into the library, sitting down at the table she had pulled over to the French windows.
It was Elvira’s day off, and the nanny had gone into Leeds, leaving Adele in her care. Tessa had toyed with the idea of taking Adele with her to the Harrogate store, but in the end she had changed her mind, had decided not to go after all. It was such a beautiful morning it seemed almost criminal to keep the child cooped up in an office; she could just as easily work here at Pennistone Royal on the plans for remodelling the Harrogate store, while Adele enjoyed the sunshine and the fresh air, playing outdoors on the long terrace at the back of the house.
Tessa had decided long ago that the library was the ideal place for her to work when she was here at Pennistone Royal. It was a long, spacious, airy room with a high-flung ceiling and walls panelled in light-coloured pine. Tranquil, a peaceful spot, it was well insulated with its many floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with leather-bound books.
Earlier this morning she had set herself up at the far end of the library, near the French windows. These opened onto the terrace where Adele could play happily until lunchtime. Tessa had pulled the library table over to the glass doors, creating a makeshift desk out of it. Adele was now in her direct line of vision; she could even hear the child chattering away to the teddy bear. Apart from being able to keep an eye on her daughter, she was readily available if the child needed her for any reason.
Tessa worked steadily at her computer for the next twenty minutes, glancing up from time to time, smiling to herself, thinking of how well Adele played alone, treating her dolls and the bear like real playmates, talking to them in the most natural way, as if they were alive.
Adele was a clever, inventive and imaginative little girl, and she could already read simple books even though she was not yet four. Tessa had come to understand that her daughter enjoyed learning new things, and she was extremely intelligent for her age, and in some ways rather precocious, at least when it came to learning. Not precocious in an irritating way, like some children were; Adele was sweet by nature, and a rather endearing child with her fey and somewhat whimsical traits and mannerisms.
Unexpectedly, Adele turned around and saw Tessa staring at her through the open glass doors, and she laughed, waved to her mother.
Tessa waved back before returning to her work. She concentrated hard, trying to pull together all of her ideas for the much-needed changes at the Harrogate store. This was her special project at the moment; her half-sister Linnet and her cousin India had been given the task of creating a new look for the Leeds store, along with Evan Hughes. Harte’s were revamping everywhere.
The loud ringing of the phone brought Tessa’s head up with a start. When it continued to shrill she wondered why no one was picking it up, and then remembered she was alone in the house at the moment. Elvira had already left for Leeds; Margaret had gone to do the marketing in Ripon, and she had seen Evan Hughes drive off well over an hour ago. As for Emsie and Desmond, her O’Neill sister and brother were off riding on the moors.
Jumping up, Tessa hurried across to the Georgian desk next to the sofa, and grabbed the phone. ‘Pennistone Royal. Hello?’ There was a great deal of static, and faintly, far away in the distance she heard a man’s voice saying, ‘Tessa –. Is Tess –’ and then the voice faded out completely.
It’s Toby, she thought; my cousin’s calling me from LA. Holding the receiver tighter, she exclaimed, ‘This is Tessa Longden! Who is it?’ Much to her annoyance, the phone now went completely dead. She listened for a moment, said hello several times and then hung up in exasperation.
She had barely taken a few steps towards the makeshift desk when the phone began to ring once more. Snatching the receiver from the cradle, she said in a distinct tone, ‘This is Tessa Longden. Who’s calling?’ There was no response, no voice at all, only static and sounds like lapping waves. ‘Hello? Hello? I can’t hear you! Who’s calling?’
Her frustration echoed in her voice; she was positive it was her cousin, who had gone to Los Angeles to see his wife. He had promised to be in touch and no doubt this was Toby. On his mobile. The connection suddenly cut off, and with an impatient shrug she banged down the phone and headed back to her computer. No sooner had she turned away from the phone than its insistent shrilling brought her back to it, and she answered for a third time. ‘This is Tessa. Who is it?’
‘Tess –’ The voice broke up before the completion of her name, and then she was hearing only static and half a word here and there. She said ‘Hello’ several times, but whoever it was at the other end was not making himself understood.
She stood there with the phone glued to her ear for a few more minutes, and then with great irritation she hung up, mildly cursing Toby under her breath. Why use his mobile? Couldn’t he have picked up a land line?
It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps Toby had tried to reach her at the London store first, and so she dialled her new assistant’s private line. It was answered immediately.
‘It’s me, Patsy,’ she said at once. ‘I think Toby Harte might be trying to get hold of me. From the States. Using his mobile. But it’s not working, he keeps breaking up. Have you heard from him this morning? Has he been trying to get me?’
‘No, he hasn’t,’ Patsy answered. ‘In fact, you’ve had very few phone calls so far today. Only Jess Lister about a dress you ordered. It’s ready. She’s bringing it over. And Anita Moore. She called to say she wants to come in and see you, show you her new line of cosmetics and body products. I said you’d be in touch with her early next week.’
‘Good. Well, look, if Toby does ring me from the States please ask him to phone me on a land line. I’ll be here at Pennistone Royal all day, and this evening, too. I’m not going out. That’ll be much easier.’
‘I’ll tell him. Talk to you later, Tessa.’
Tessa walked back to the library table and automatically glanced out at the terrace before resuming her work. And she caught her breath in surprise. Adele was no longer sitting at the tea-table.
Oh God, where is she? Tessa rushed through the French windows and out onto the terrace, looking up and down. Her daughter was nowhere in sight. And yet she was not in the habit of wandering off. Adele was an obedient child.
Instantly her hackles rose and alarm shot through her. She swung around, glanced down at the tea-table as if seeking a clue, and immediately noticed that the rag doll was missing.
Where had Adele gone? Down to the old oak, perhaps? As this thought flew into her head Tessa ran over to the stone balustrade and looked out towards the dell at the bottom of the sloping lawns. Here an ancient oak spread its wide branches over a garden seat where Adele often went to play. But there was no sign of her there today.
How did she manage to get down the steps? Tessa now asked herself, and her alarm intensified as she raced along the terrace to the flight of steps. She dreaded what she might find; she fully expected to see her three-year-old child crumpled in a heap at the bottom of them. But Adele was not there either.
Panic spiralled into genuine fear as Tessa struck out towards the front façade of the house, looking around as she did, her face tense, her eyes filled with anxiety.
The driveway was deserted. There wasn’t a soul in sight, not even the gardeners or the stable boys. It was ominously quiet, as if everyone had disappeared and she was the only person left there.
When she reached the heavy front door Tessa stood for a moment, frowning. The door was ajar and this surprised her. It was always locked for security reasons. Puzzled, she pushed the door open and went inside; her only concern was to find her child.
‘Adele! Adele!’ she called out in her loudest voice, walking forward quickly. ‘Are you here, sweetheart?’
No one answered.
No child came running to her on plump little legs, calling her name.
There was only the sound of Tessa’s voice echoing back to her through the great Stone Hall. It struck her then that Adele might have gone to the kitchen looking for Margaret, wanting her favourite Cadbury’s chocolate fingers for the dolls’ tea party. Rushing down the corridor, she went into the kitchen. It, too, was deserted. Disappointment hit her in the face. Her heart sank and dismay lodged in the pit of her stomach. Unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes and she leaned against the door jamb for a split second, endeavouring to gather her swimming senses as she tried to imagine where the three-year-old could be. Where?
Taking a deep breath, Tessa swung out of the kitchen and made her way back to the front of the house, walked outside onto the gravel driveway, again looking around. And asking herself where she should begin to search for Adele. It now seemed obvious that her little girl had wandered off into the other garden, and Tessa suddenly understood that she would need Wiggs and his two assistants to start looking for her. And possibly the stable lads as well. The grounds at Pennistone Royal were vast and covered a wide area, and there were several dense woods beyond the fields and meadows.
‘Miss Tessa! Miss Tessa!’
At the sound of the head gardener’s voice, Tessa spun around. Wiggs was hurrying towards her and she saw that he had the rag doll in his hands.
She ran to meet him, exclaiming, ‘Where did you find the doll?’
The gardener came to a standstill and handed it to her. ‘Just around the bend in the drive.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Yer knows that bend, Miss Tessa, it’s just afore the house comes in ter sight.’
Clutching the rag doll to her, Tessa said shakily, ‘I can’t find Adele, Wiggs. She’s suddenly gone missing, and I don’t understand what she was doing out here. We must start looking for her in the grounds.’
Wiggs gaped at her. ‘I thought she must’ve dropped the doll before she got in ter the car,’ he said, frowning, his face puzzled.
‘What car?’ Tessa cried, her eyes opening wider, flaring with apprehension. ‘There was a car here?’ Her voice was unusually shrill and she gripped the gardener’s arm.
‘Yes. I heard the screech of tyres as it drove off. Almost run over one of the ponies, it did that, and two of the stable lads ran after it, shouting at the driver, telling him to stop. But he didn’t.’
All of the colour had drained out of Tessa’s face and she thought her legs would buckle under her as small ripples of shock ran through her body. Mark. It had to be Mark. Yes. Oh, God, yes. He had snatched their child. She snapped her eyes tightly shut, trembling inside, and brought one hand to her face, overcome by rising panic.
‘You’d best go inside, Miss Tessa, and sit down for a bit,’ Wiggs was saying to her. ‘You look right poorly.’
And as Tessa opened her eyes and took a deep breath, she heard the clatter of horses’ hooves in the distance and turned around swiftly.
Wiggs glanced behind him, and muttered, ‘That must be Emsie and Desmond coming back from their ride.’
‘Yes, it must,’ she agreed, and she thought her voice sounded peculiar, oddly strangled in her throat. She was on the verge of tears again. Turning to Wiggs, blinking them back, she managed to ask, ‘That car, Wiggs. What was it like? Did you see the driver? Was it Mr Longden, do you think?’
Wiggs shook his head. ‘Didn’t see the driver’s face. But it was a man. Aye, it was. Car was black. A Mercedes … I think.’ He nodded and his expression was suddenly confident. ‘Aye, it was a Mercedes, Miss Tessa.’
At this moment Emsie and Desmond came around the bend, their horses walking at a slow pace. Emsie waved and called out cheerily, ‘Tessa! Hello.’
Desmond also waved and his handsome young face was full of smiles.
Tessa raised her arm, beckoned to them to come over, then she changed her mind and ran towards them, Wiggs following in her wake.
Desmond, mounted on a superb black stallion, looked down at his eldest sister. Staring at her face, which was as white as her cotton shirt, noting her terrible strained expression, he asked, almost sharply, ‘What’s the matter, Tess?’
‘It’s Adele,’ she began and shook her head in bewilderment. ‘I can’t find her. She’s vanished. Into thin air.’ Her voice was shaking and she stopped abruptly, turned to look at Wiggs. ‘But she could have been taken from here.’
He had known her since she was a child, and he understood immediately what she wanted him to do. He had to explain. ‘It’s like this, Desmond,’ Wiggs said. ‘There was a car here. I don’t know who was in it. But it drove off hell for leather, almost collided with a pony that’d strayed on ter the drive. Two of the stable lads ran after the car, shouting, but the driver paid them no mind, didn’t stop. Just shot out of them there front gates like a bat out of hell. I was walking up the drive … when I spotted Adele’s rag doll.’ He nodded and finished, ‘I thought Adele must’ve dropped it when she got in the car. Not that I’m sure she did that, yer knows. But it seems likely.’
