‘You!’ Gerald screamed, half rising. ‘It was you!’ He fell back into the chair, seized by an uncontrollable shaking, and then he experienced a stab of pain in his chest, one so acute it knocked the breath out of him. He clutched his chest and the shaking increased. He thought he might be having a seizure. Suddenly the reality of her revelations overwhelmed him and with dawning horror he recognized the ghastly truth. Emma Harte now possessed all that had been his. Most of the Fairley enterprises were in her hands. And so was his family home. His ancestral home. She had smashed his life. All he had left were a few shares in the Yorkshire Morning Gazette and the brickyard, neither of which he gave a damn about. He shuddered and dropped his head into his hands.
Blackie gazed dispassionately at Gerald. He saw a devastated and broken man and yet Blackie felt no sympathy for him. He turned and glanced at Emma, who sat poised and calm on the sofa, in command of herself and the situation, and then he sucked in his breath. Her beautiful face was a bronze mask, her eyes as deadly as steel, and his hackles rose. There was power and stealth in this room, and a ruthlessness so tangible the air seemed to vibrate with it. And it emanated solely from Emma. Blackie swallowed and looked away, finally truly understanding what a force she was to be reckoned with.
Gerald lifted his head slowly and glared at Emma venomously. ‘You conniving bloody bitch!’ he hissed from between clenched teeth. ‘You have been behind all the dreadful things that have happened to me. Why, you deliberately set out to steal my mills. You ruined me!’
Emma laughed sardonically and for the first time that day her virulent loathing for Gerald was fully revealed. ‘Did you think I made an idle threat that day, thirteen years ago, when you tried to rape me? I will never forget that day. And now, neither will you. It will haunt you as long as you live, Gerald Fairley.’ She gave him a curious icy smile. ‘Yes, I set out to ruin you, as I vowed I would when you forced your way into my house and attacked me. But you were my willing ally. You made it very easy for me. If the truth be known, you really ruined yourself. I simply helped you along the way.’
Gerald’s monumental fury and humiliation pushed aside all reason. He stood up unsteadily. He wanted to put his hands around her neck and squeeze and squeeze until she had no life left in her. He must destroy her. He stepped towards Emma, his hatred blazing, his eyes bulging in his twisted face. He raised his hand as if to strike her.
Blackie, astonished and enraged by what he had just heard, moved with swiftness, catching Gerald’s arm as it came down, neatly deflecting the blow. Although Gerald was huge, he was weak and his weight was cumbersome, and so he was no match for Blackie’s strength and speed. Blackie spun Gerald around roughly and grabbed him with both hands, pinning his arms to his sides. He increased his vice-like grip and forced Gerald down into the chair.
‘Don’t try that again, Fairley!’ Blackie cried, anger suffusing his face with dark colour. ‘If you so much as breathe on her I will give you the worst thrashing of your life!’
Foolishly disregarding Blackie’s warning, Gerald struggled upright mumbling foul imprecations. He heaved himself to his feet, sweating profusely, and glowered at Emma. He seemed about to attack her and then suddenly he changed his mind and lurched at Blackie. Blackie was prepared and stepped aside adroitly, swung his right fist, and caught Gerald a glancing blow on the jaw. A look of stunned surprise crossed Gerald’s purple face before he crumpled and collapsed in a heap at their feet, overturning a small mahogany table as he fell.
‘Oh my God!’ Emma exclaimed, rising.
‘That bastard asked for it!’ Blackie muttered, and gave her a sharp, puzzled glance. ‘Why didn’t you tell me he tried to rape you when it happened? I would have knocked the living daylights out of him! He would have been crippled for life, after I’d finished with him!’
‘I know. That’s why I never mentioned it, Blackie,’ Emma said quietly. ‘I thought it advisable to keep it to myself. I didn’t need any more trouble in those days. My life was difficult enough as it was.’ Emma righted the table and smiled wanly. ‘But thank you for interceding now. I really think he meant to hit me.’
Blackie looked at her askance, as always surprised at her fearlessness. ‘What do you mean, think he did? I know he intended you bodily harm. The nasty piece of work.’
Emma gestured at Gerald. ‘What are we going to do with him? We can’t just leave him lying there.’
A malicious gleam entered Blackie’s eyes. ‘I can think of a lot of things I’d like to do with him. But he’s not worth going to jail for, I can tell you that.’ Blackie spotted a jug of water on the walnut chest. He brought it over to Gerald and threw the contents on him unceremoniously. ‘There, that should do it!’ he exclaimed, and stood regarding Gerald coldly.
After a moment Gerald struggled into a sitting position, spluttering and wiping the water from his face. Blackie pulled him to his feet. ‘No more violence, Fairley. Do you understand me? Otherwise I won’t be responsible for my actions,’ Blackie said harshly, his manner threatening. He manoeuvred Gerald into the chair with a degree of roughness and hovered over him. ‘Now, let’s get down to the business at hand. You know why I came. Presumably you are going to permit us to make a tour of inspection. I don’t think you have any alternative under the circumstances, do you?’
Gerald ignored Blackie and snarled viciously at Emma, his enmity for her more palpable than ever. ‘I’ll get you for this!’ he shouted, shaking his fist at her. ‘You’re not going to get off scot-free,’ he blustered. ‘Or as easily as you think, Emma.’
‘Mrs Ainsley to you,’ Blackie said as Emma walked over to the desk.
Emma picked up her gloves and handbag and said, ‘Please leave us now. I believe you have something to attend to – removing your personal belongings from your office at the mill.’
Gerald stood up uncertainly. He held on to the back of the chair and his tone was venomous as he said, ‘I give you fair warning—’ His voice broke and tears welled in his eyes. ‘I am going to—’
‘You can do nothing,’ Emma said, and she turned away in disgust.
Blackie said firmly, ‘You heard the lady, Fairley. You had better do as she says and be quick about it. I think it would be rather embarrassing to find your stuff dumped in the mill yard.’
Gerald stumbled out of the library, his shoulders hunched in defeat. He slammed the door behind him and the wall sconces rattled in their sockets.
Emma, who abhorred violence, had been alarmed by the altercation, as brief as it was, but she had not lost her composure. She glanced across at Blackie and said dismissively, ‘So much for fools. Shall we look around the house?’
‘Why not? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?’
‘One of the reasons,’ Emma said.
Blackie’s eyes rested reflectively on Emma. Revenge generally came at a high price and, whilst he understood her motivations, he wondered, abstractly, if the price had been worth it to her. Superstitious Celt that he was, Blackie shivered unexpectedly. The desire for revenge was not unnatural, but it could curdle and embitter the soul, and it often destroyed the avenger. Was it not perhaps infinitely wiser to abjure the wicked and abandon them to the fates, and trust in God to make retribution in His own good time? He found himself saying, almost inaudibly, ‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay, sayeth the Lord.’
Emma gave him a peculiar look, and then she laughed. There was a hint of irony in her voice as she retorted, ‘Don’t start getting mystical with me. You know I don’t believe in God. Besides, even if I did, I would still have taken matters into my own hands. You see, Blackie, I didn’t have time to wait for the Lord.’
‘And you also wanted the satisfaction of seeing Gerald Fairley’s face when he discovered you had been his adversary all these years,’ Blackie asserted.
‘Do you blame me?’ Emma asked, one eyebrow raised.
‘I