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Night Of Shame
Night Of Shame
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Night Of Shame

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But then Alexander had arrived, and even the security blanket of her love for Simon had been snatched away. Judith could still remember walking down that staircase with its deep red carpet and the exquisite Chinese rug lying across the bottom.

She’d been putting her foot on that rug when the doorbell had rung. Not wanting to meet another new face that first day, she’d scuttled halfway back up the stairs before Simon’s voice had halted her mid-flight.

‘Where on earth are you running off to, Judith? That will probably be Alex. Wait on! Surely you want to meet our best man?’

She waited. Simon strode across the foyer to fling open the front door.

‘Alex! Great to see you again, old man. Come in, come in!’

Simon gave his friend a big bear hug, thumping him on the back. He was always like that. Warm. Affable. Not afraid to show his affection, like some men.

Alexander grimaced at first, as though he didn’t like being hugged. For a split second, he looked as if he would pull away, but then he glanced up over Simon’s shoulder and spotted Judith on the stairs.

He stared at her.

She stared right back, and her heart skittered to a faltering halt.

He wasn’t as handsome as Simon in the classical sense. His features were harsher, creating angles and shadows on his face which Judith found instantly, stunningly attractive. As dark as Simon was fair, Alexander’s ruggedly tanned face projected a masculine maturity which Simon’s pretty-boy looks lacked.

Simon had told her Alexander was the same age as himself—twenty-five—but he looked much older. There was a knowingness about his eyes as well, those penetratingly intelligent black eyes which rooted Judith to the spot on the stairs, seeming to see right into her soul—a soul which was in danger of damnation from the first moment they met.

His intense scrutiny seemed to go on for ever, yet it probably lasted only a few brief moments. It was long enough, however, for Judith to know that her love for Simon was a cruel illusion. Here was a man who could move her more with a look than her fiancé could with the most intimate of kisses.

When he finally looked away, Judith swayed, clutching wildly at the balustrade for support. She felt as if someone had stabbed her, so sharp was the constriction in her chest. A fierce flush spread over her cheeks, testimony to the overheated state of the blood which suddenly rushed through her veins.

‘Judith!’ Simon called. ‘Come down here and meet Alex. Yes, right now,’ he insisted when she hesitated in her fluster. ‘She’s a little shy, is my Judith,’ he explained to his silent friend. ‘But that’s why I love her so. No more blonde bimbos for me, Alex. I’m a changed man.’

How dreadful those next few days were. How confused she was. Simon was even more attentive and loving to her, and she simply could not bring herself to call off their engagement.

If only she had someone she could confide in...

But she was alone in Australia. Her family had emigrated from England when she was a child, but her older sister, Helen, had returned to England on a holiday and subsequently married there. When her father had died of a coronary two years ago, her mother had returned to London to live with Helen. She hadn’t had the money to fly over for the wedding. Besides, Helena had been eight months pregnant.

No, there was no one to confide in. No one to warn her that what she was feeling for Alexander Fairchild had brought down kings, and kingdoms. Only afterwards would Judith appreciate that mindless passion always exacted a price. At the time, she convinced herself that once the wedding was over and Alexander was out of their lives everything would be all right.

She did her best to keep out of his way that week, aware of the dangerous nature of her feelings, but he seemed to seek her out deliberately, as keen on her company as she was terrified of his. To give herself credit, she did make sure she was never alone with him, but that didn’t stop the longing. Or the dark desires. Her dreams were haunted by his presence, fiercely erotic dreams in which she went further than she’d gone with Simon. Much, much further.

Once and only once, Judith allowed herself the luxury of staring openly at him while he was deep in conversation with Simon’s sister. But, unexpectedly, Alexander suddenly glanced across the room and straight into her hungry gaze. She immediately wrenched her eyes away and fled the room, thoroughly ashamed of herself. Had he seen the lust lurking in her soul? she agonised. Had he seen the shameful truth?

Oh, yes, he’d seen, she soon accepted. And was already plotting how to use it for his own vicious ends.

‘Judith, what are you doing standing up there, staring into space?’ Raymond’s sharp words snapped her back to the present. ‘We’ll be late.’

Judith’s face betrayed nothing, but her heart was still thudding with her distressing memories. How on earth was she going to bear seeing that man again?

One look at the stern male face below made her see that she would simply have to see him. There was no other way out, unless she wanted to risk her relationship with Raymond.

Pride came to the rescue, demanding that she not let Alexander Fairchild destroy her life and her peace of mind a second time. Raymond was a good man and they would have a good marriage. If bells didn’t ring when he kissed her, then so much the better. Bells had certainly rung when Alexander had kissed her, but they’d never been going to turn into wedding bells. They’d tolled a different bell, leaving her to be crippled for years by guilt and shame.

‘I was just going,’ she told Raymond with surprising calm. ‘It won’t take me long to get ready.’

See, she told herself as she swept down the hallway and into her bedroom. You can handle this. You’re different now. You’re an adult, not some silly, impressionable young girl. He won’t get to you a second time. You simply won’t let him!

CHAPTER TWO

JUDITH’S bedroom was the last on the right-hand side of the upstairs hall. Its one large window looked out over the pool and showed a glimpse of Sydney Harbour through the tall trees which lined the back yard. The furniture in the room was dark and elegant, and of good quality walnut, the furnishings equally elegant, in rich cream and apricot colours.

Despite its sophisticated decor, it looked like a young girl’s room, for it was full of soft toys of every shape, colour and size. Most of them were bears, sitting in rows along the wall and on every available shelf. But there was also a pair of white rabbits perched on the armrests of the armchair under the window, and a huge pink elephant filling one corner. A long sausage dog called Woofa lay across the end of her bed, and a huge St Bernard called Berni stood guard next to the door.

Judith’s pride and joy, however, was her prized panda which shared her bed, getting under the sheets with her at night and lying contentedly against her pillows during the day. Peter Panda had been a present from her father on her eighth birthday, and had proved to be a great comfort to her in moments of loneliness or distress. She loved the feel of his velvet-soft fur, and his wonderful ability to listen to her complaints and confessions without a single critical word.

Judith had added to her collection of silent comforters during her growing-up years whenever she had money of her own. Each toy had been selected for its extra-soft feel and the expression of love and sweet sympathy in its eyes. Whenever she looked at them and held them, Judith instantly felt better. She believed they were worth their weight in gold, and had saved her a fortune in therapy and medication.

Raymond’s mother thought her toys cute. Raymond had simply smiled indulgently when he’d first seen them. Margaret had denounced Judith’s collection as neurotic and unhealthy.

‘I’ll bet she even talks to them,’ she’d sneered to Raymond one day.

Which, of course, she did.

‘You’ll never guess who’s turned up again,’ she told them all as she hurried into her room. ‘Alexander Fairchild! But don’t worry, I’m not about to make a fool of myself again. Can’t talk now. I have to get ready and I’m running late.’

Flinging open the doors of the wardrobe, she ran her eyes over the clothes hanging before her.

Judith had never been a flashy or a sexy dresser, not even back in her days with Simon. Nowadays, her attire was even more conservative. But Raymond was right. She’d been shopping for her honeymoon lately and had purchased a couple of outfits which might be described as glamorous. Raymond was going to take her on a South Pacific cruise and had instructed her to buy some clothes suitable for elegant evening dining.

Her hand moved to one such new purchase. Primrose-yellow, it was a deceptively innocent creation if one kept the jacket on. The dress, however, was styled like a petticoat, silky and clinging, with shoe-string straps holding up a bodice that moulded around her breasts like a second skin.

Judith stared at it for a moment, unsure of wearing such a provocative gown in Alexander’s presence. Till she reminded herself that her passion for the man had been a one-sided affair, his desire all being pretence. She could probably stand naked before him tonight and he wouldn’t turn a hair.

Angry defiance took hold of Judith at the thought. She threw the outfit onto the bed then marched into the shower. Some considerable time later, she stood in front of the dressing-table mirror, gnawing away at her bottom lip as she surveyed the dress again, now that it was on her body.

Judith was not a busty girl.

But still...

She gulped at the sight of her tall, slender form encased in that clinging yellow silk. The effect was not only sexy. It was downright seductive!

Despairingly, she dragged on the thigh-length jacket with its long sleeves and high Chinese collar, then took another look. Ah, that was much better. Her braless breasts, and especially her irritatingly hard nipples, were now well covered. No way did she want anyone misinterpreting any unfortunate body language, especially Alexander. She was determined to show him she felt nothing for him any more, nothing except a mild derision and a total lack of interest.

A loud rap on the door made her jump.

‘Ten minutes, Judith,’ Raymond ordered peremptorily through the door. ‘I’ll meet you downstairs, at the front door, right on the dot of seven forty-five.’

Judith bristled at Raymond’s officiousness, which was silly, because he wasn’t being any different from his usual self. He’d always been a bit bossy, and punctuality was an obsession with him. Being a trained nurse, she was used to schedules and appointed times. Usually, she found them comforting. But tonight, for some reason, she was irritated by Raymond’s autocratic attitude.

‘I’ll be ready, Raymond,’ she called back, gritting her teeth as she did so.

Turning back to the mirror, Judith set about doing her hair, deft fingers whisking her long chestnut-brown locks up at the sides, and anchoring it on top of her head with a gold and tortoiseshell comb. The rest she left to tumble halfway down her back, its natural wave demanding no attention other than a quick brush.

She’d already done her make-up, her clear olive complexion needing little adornment, just a brushing of blusher. At night, she always emphasised her large green eyes with mascara and earth-toned eye shadows. Her mouth, which was wide and full, did not really suit red lipsticks, so she generally stuck to browns.

Judith stared at the finished result in the mirror. She looked good. More than good. She looked glamorous, and sultry, and downright sexy.

‘What do you think?’ she asked her silently watching audience. ‘Too provocative? Yes? No? Say something, for pity’s sake!’ She whirled round to glare into Peter’s soulful eyes. ‘I know what you’re thinking. You think I want him to look at me—just once—with real desire in his eyes, don’t you? Don’t you?’ she repeated, stalking over to snatch the panda up and shake him.

‘Well, maybe I do,’ she admitted with a strangled sob, and hugged the panda tightly to her. ‘But there’s no danger of that happening, Peter. He never really fancied me, not one little bit. He just pretended. He didn’t want me. He just wanted revenge!’

It had happened two days before the actual wedding, the night of the big party, when everyone for miles around came to meet Simon’s prospective bride. Anyone who was anyone, that was. Simon’s family only mixed with the best in country society.

Judith felt ill-at-ease all night in her simple green party dress, especially when Simon kept leaving her alone for great chunks of time on end. She’d never been one for mixing at parties, not having been blessed with Simon’s easy charm. Several times, she felt Alexander’s intense gaze upon her, but she steadfastly resisted looking back at him.

By the time the antique clock on the wall in the main living room struck midnight, the party was in full swing. Drinks flowed. A lot of people were merry, and many were downright drunk. A sozzled Simon had just reappeared after another absence, only to immediately excuse himself again. He’d said he was going to get her a drink, despite her protest that she didn’t want another. She’s already had far too many glasses of champagne on her relatively empty stomach, and her head was beginning to spin.

Five minutes went by, then another, and he did not return. She was about to go in search of him when Alexander appeared by her side, a glass of white wine in his hand.

‘Simon asked me to bring you this,’ he said. ‘His mother wanted him for something. He shouldn’t be too long. Do you mind if I stay and talk to you for a while?’

His eyes locked with hers and immediately she was lost. ‘I...no, I...I don’t mind,’ she said shakily.

They talked and talked. Simon didn’t come back and Judith scarcely noticed. Alexander told her how he and Simon had become best friends while doing an economics degree together at Sydney Uni a few years before, but that whereas Simon had gone on to a position as a trainee executive in a large insurance company he had had to give up his own banking career to return to run the family farm near Goulburn. His father had tragically lost both his legs at the knees when he’d been run over by the tractor.

Judith found him a man of great depth, not at all what she’d expected. She would have preferred to find him shallow and insincere, unworthy of her mad longings—someone she could despise and thereby kill her infatuation.

But any despising was not to come till much later. That night she found nothing to despise, only to desire.

An hour passed. Alexander went in search of the still missing Simon, only to return alone, a dark frown on his face. Abruptly, he took the now empty wineglass from her hand and asked her to dance.

What madness! What joy! She could touch him and no one could condemn her. She could revel in his nearness, for she was safe in the company of others.

But he steered her away, first out onto the terrace and then down into the extensive grounds. When they reached a secluded spot behind a hedge, he swung her to a stop and just stared down at her. She was both afraid and thrilled by the look in his eyes. When he kissed her, the dam of desire she’d tried so hard to bottle up spilled wide open and all her passion for him poured forth.

Oh, such a torrent of feeling it was. Such a flood of longing. She was just swept away. Within minutes he had her on the ground, her clothes pushed aside. She was panting beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape.

Alexander was only a second away from total possession, Judith clinging to him in abandoned submission, when the cold clarity of Simon’s voice froze her with shame.

‘You lying, cheating little bitch!’

Alexander rose quickly, pulling down her skirt and adjusting his own clothing with amazing speed. Judith just lay there on the grass, stricken with shame. Her eyes were round with shock. How could you have done this? her conscience cried piteously.

Simon was no longer looking at her but glaring at Alexander, wild fury in his eyes. His arm swung round with violent intent, but Alexander warded off the blow with his elbow. Simon swayed, and Judith saw that his cheeks were flushed and his eyes bloodshot. He was very, very drunk, she realised as she scrambled to her feet at last.

‘Please, Simon,’ she said pathetically, grasping at his arm. ‘I...I’m sorry. I—’

He struck her. A savage blow to the side of her head, sending her sprawling. Alexander grabbed her before she fell to the ground, then whipped round to face Simon. ‘I’ll kill you, you bastard,’ he threatened. ‘Touch her again and I’ll kill you.’

‘She’s all yours, dear friend,’ came the sneering retort. ‘Screw her to death for all I care.’

Simon lurched across the lawn and into his blue Aston Martin. The car burst into life and screeched off down the drive, sending a shower of gravel scattering at their feet. They didn’t even have time to speak to each other before they heard the sound of the crash and saw the fire-ball in the distance.

Simon’s family and friends never found out why he’d driven off so crazily to his death. Alexander didn’t confess to anything. Judith had begged him not to. And when he announced that he wasn’t able to stay for the funeral, a sudden downturn in his father’s health calling him home, she thought it was for the best. How could she possibly stand by his side at Simon’s graveside?

By the time Simon was buried, her guilt was overwhelming. She knew then that it would take her a long time to get over what she’d done. Her only comfort was the knowledge that Alexander must truly love her to have betrayed his best friend like that, as she must truly love him.

He’d promised to come back and get her in a couple of days. She was counting the moments till his arrival, wanting to get right away, away from the misery in that home, away from the scene of their crime, so to speak.

But it wasn’t Alexander who came. It was his sister, Karen...

Judith was lying down in her room when she was told there was someone on the front veranda to see her. The visitor refused to come inside.

Puzzled, Judith went downstairs and out on to the veranda, gazing with curiosity upon the pretty dark-haired young woman waiting there. She’d been crying, Judith noted.

‘You’re Judith Anderson, Simon’s fiancée?’ the girl asked.

‘Yes.’ But who on earth was she?

The girl pulled out a crumpled handkerchief from a plain black handbag and blew her nose. A thick lock of hair fell across her eyes and she agitatedly pushed it aside. The gesture reminded Judith of someone, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on who.

‘I’m sorry,’ the girl blubbered. ‘I’m really sorry.’ Then she totally lost control and the tears flooded anew.

Judith took her elbow and led her to the long seat against the wall. ‘Let’s sit down,’ she said gently, ‘and you can tell me what you’re sorry about, plus who you are.’

The girl lifted her tear-stained face, her brown eyes widening. ‘Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I...I’m Karen Fairchild, Alex’s sister.’

Of course, Judith realised. The same forehead and hair—hair that was always falling forward.

‘If only I’d known,’ Karen blurted out. ‘I’d never have told Alex. Never! But he was insisting that I come to your wedding, and I just couldn’t.’

With that she buried her head in her hands and wept some more.

Judith’s thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion. What terrible thing was this girl trying to tell her?

‘What shouldn’t you have told your brother?’ she asked slowly, already dreading the answer.

The girl looked hard at Judith now and the weeping stopped. ‘I’m not sure you’ll want to hear this, you having loved Simon. But I loved him too and I’ll never forgive Alex if he was to blame for Simon’s death. He didn’t say much when he came home but I knew. I just knew he’d done something.’

Judith stood up abruptly and walked over to the edge of the veranda, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. She took a deep breath to calm herself and turned to face her visitor.

‘Let me get this clear, Karen. You were in love with Simon?’

The girl nodded.

‘And Alex found out?’

‘That’s part of it...’

‘So what’s the other part?’

Karen looked upset, as though she wished she hadn’t started this confession. ‘I suppose I’ll have to tell you it all now,’ she said unhappily, then fell silent.