‘No, thanks, Des. A cup of tea and an aspirin is what I want. I have a splitting headache. Let’s go to the kitchen.’
He nodded, and he and Emsie followed Tessa across the Stone Hall and down the corridor. Once inside the kitchen it was Emsie who filled the electric kettle with water, plugged it in, then found the brown teapot and three mugs in the cupboard.
Desmond and Tessa seated themselves at the round table in the bay window, and Desmond took hold of Tessa’s hand, hoping to reassure her. He started to speak but stopped, noting the preoccupied look on her face. He had always been sensitive to her moods, and he understood that at this moment she was trying to think things through.
At fifteen Desmond O’Neill was mature for his age, and looked older than his years. He was tall, over six feet, and powerfully built, a strapping young man with his father’s height, broad chest and wide shoulders; he also had Shane’s glamorous good looks. Hair and eyes the colour of jet stamped him Black Irish, and those in the know said that he was the spitting image of his great-grandfather Blackie O’Neill, long since dead, but well-remembered by many of the locals, friends and certain members of the three clans.
No one spoke. Emsie was busy making the tea, and Desmond was waiting for Tessa to relax, to say something. Only when Adele was found would his sister be at ease. She was a doting mother.
Tessa’s mind was racing, and she felt sick, anxiety-ridden for her child. She did not know what to do at this moment. How could she just sit and wait until Wiggs and the others searched the estate? That could take ages. And wasn’t time of the essence? If Adele was lost she would soon become frightened, and she might have an accident, could easily hurt herself. She wondered if she should go and join in the hunt for Adele? Could she have been grabbed by Mark? Did he have her? Or was Jonathan Ainsley behind this? She instantly pushed that thought to one side. The idea of Jonathan Ainsley being involved frightened her. If Mark did have their daughter, wouldn’t he call Pennistone Royal to speak to her? Certainly he would never hurt Adele, he adored the child. But he wasn’t himself these days, was he? Tessa shivered involuntarily.
Desmond noticed this, and said swiftly, in his most reassuring tone, ‘I’m sure she was in that car, Tess. Wiggs might not have noticed. I don’t think Adele is here, on the estate, lost somewhere, because Emsie and I would have spotted her on our way back. The only way to get to the fields is down the lane.’
Tessa did not respond.
Desmond remained silent himself, knowing Tessa in the way he did. Although his half-sister had a reputation in the family for being difficult, bossy and a snob, he knew another, very different side of her. He loved Tessa, and she loved him, and they had always been good friends; she wasn’t really the ogre some of the family made her out to be. At least not in his eyes.
Rousing herself from her thoughts, Tessa suddenly said, ‘I can’t help thinking as you do she probably was in that car, Des. You’re right. And she’s so little, she couldn’t have got very far.’
‘Who would take her without telling you –’ he cut himself off. His eyes met hers. ‘Mark Longden. Of course! You think he’s got her, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘So do I. That’s the answer.’
Emsie carried the tray of mugs and the teapot over to the table and as she put it down she said, ‘There’s no one else to point a finger at. He might be trying to get his own back because of your nasty divorce, or to make trouble, hurt you.’
‘Unless someone else has –’ Desmond paused, took a deep breath, and finished, ‘kidnapped her. For a ransom. This family’s always been the perfect target for something like that.’
‘I’ve considered the same thing. A kidnapping.’ Tessa closed her eyes once more and sat very still, trying to control her trembling. ‘That’s why I’ve got to be here, near the phone.’
She was so white and her tension was so marked Desmond was convinced she was about to faint at any moment. He wished Linnet were here, she’d know what to do. But would Tessa listen to her? They were often at loggerheads.
Emsie looked across at her brother and her eyes caught his as she poured tea into his mug. These two had always been perfectly in tune with each other. At seventeen she was two years older than Desmond, yet it was he who was protective of her; they loved each other and were best friends. Like Desmond, Emsie was obviously Black Irish. She had inherited the striking O’Neill colouring – glossy dark hair and eyes as black and shiny as coal.
Silently, she mouthed, ‘Linnet. We need Linnet.’
Desmond nodded, looked across at Tessa, waiting.
Despite her fragile appearance and her delicate beauty, Tessa Fairley Longden had a great deal of inner strength and an enormous amount of resilience. As she often said, she was not Emma Harte’s great-granddaughter for nothing; there was a certain toughness about her and she had a fair amount of determination.
Pulling herself together finally, she opened her eyes and sat up a little straighter in the chair. ‘Thanks for the tea, Emsie,’ she murmured and took a long swallow of the brew. After a moment’s thought, she glanced at the wall clock, continued, ‘It’s almost eleven here. Six o’clock in the morning in New York. No use phoning Mummy and Shane –’
Emsie cut in somewhat peremptorily: ‘They’ll still be asleep. What about talking to your solicitor?’
‘No, no!’ Tessa exclaimed, and gave Emsie a hard stare. ‘You know very well what the family rules are. We deal with everything ourselves, for as long as possible, and with the help of the other clans if necessary. But no outsiders can be involved. Unless we have no other choice.’
‘You ought to call Linnet immediately,’ Desmond suggested, glancing quickly at Emsie, hoping Tessa wouldn’t bite his head off. The strained relationship between his sisters often presented problems. Both wanted to run Harte’s one day. But Linnet was the smartest in the family, other than his parents; he believed she was the best person to take charge in the absence of their mother and father.
Surprisingly, Tessa was not upset by his suggestion. Jumping up, she hurried over to the phone on the counter. ‘I think I’d better do that, Desmond. Right away.’
Tessa was aware that Linnet had planned to come up to Pennistone Royal either today or tomorrow, and so instead of ringing Harte’s in London she dialled her sister on her mobile; Linnet was probably on the road already, driving to Yorkshire. It was answered almost at once with a crisp, ‘Linnet O’Neill.’
‘It’s Tessa. I’ve got a problem here.’
‘At the Harrogate store?’ Linnet sounded surprised.
‘No. At home. At Pennistone Royal.’
‘A problem there! What’s happened?’
‘It’s Adele. She’s vanished. I can’t find her, and I’m frantic. I think it could be Mark’s doing.’ Tessa’s voice trembled and she swallowed hard.
‘If you think it’s Mark then it is,’ Linnet exclaimed. ‘Stay calm, I’m about an hour away. Don’t call the police yet. We can deal with this ourselves.’
‘I know the rules. Listen, Desmond thinks it could be a genuine kidnapping. For a ransom.’
‘Oh my God! Let’s hope not. Tell me exactly what happened.’
Tessa did as her sister asked.
When Tessa finished, Linnet said, ‘The phone calls were to distract you. It’s Mark who’s behind this, I’m absolutely positive. You’re right about that. Still, I’m glad Wiggs is searching the grounds. She could have strayed away from the house, but she couldn’t have gone far. Who’s there with you?’
‘Just Desmond and Emsie. It’s Elvira’s day off, and Margaret went out