‘It’s his dearest wish, before he’s called to his maker, to officiate at the master’s wedding.
‘When Miss O’Connell’s family first moved into Farrington Hall and the young couple became friendly, we began to wonder if she might be the one. But after the mistress’s death, Mr Richard no longer came home and Miss O’Connell stopped calling…’
Beaming, as if Tina should be pleased too, she went on, ‘But now—though Mr Richard has made it clear that it’s still un official—we’re delighted by the news that at long last the Reverend Peter is going to have his wish…’
So Richard was going to be married.
‘Well, I must get along. The master was in the study earlier, if you’re looking for him…’ Her back ramrod straight, Hannah hurried away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
COLD and sick and shattered, Tina stood stricken, unable to move, knowing how Mag must have felt.
In her ears was his voice saying, ‘Who said anything about a one-night stand or casual sex? Neither the way I feel about you, nor my intentions are in any way casual’…And, fool that she was, she had believed his lies.
Unless he was planning on having an ongoing affair after he was married?
Well, if he was, she thought bitterly, he could count her out.
When she had recovered enough to move, her first impulse was to run and hide. To leave his home and never see him again. But she had no way of leaving unless she could find a phone and call for a taxi.
There must be phones at the castle but, apart from the one in the library-cum-study that Richard had used the previous night, she hadn’t noticed any. Perhaps, like the television, they were hidden away.
But all that was beside the point; she needed her own mobile. So somehow she had to face him, to tell him she was leaving. But if she wanted to go with some shred of pride intact, she had, somehow, to hide just how shattered she felt.
On legs that trembled so much they would scarcely carry her, she made her way across the hall to the study. As she was passing the living-room door, which was a little ajar, she heard Richard’s voice and, pausing, once again found herself eavesdropping on a phone conversation.
‘As the time factor is of overriding importance,’ he was saying, ‘there isn’t a moment to lose—’
Only it wasn’t a phone conversation, she realised a second later, as a woman’s voice broke in, ‘But surely it’s already too late. It just can’t be done in the time.’
‘It can be done,’ Richard insisted quietly. ‘In fact the arrangements are already in place.’
Feeling like death, lacking the will to walk away, Tina listened dully to the argument.
‘There must be some other way,’ the woman insisted shrilly. ‘You’re not short of money; couldn’t you—?’
‘That was my first thought, but money isn’t necessarily the answer. I don’t know for sure what I’m up against, and by the time I do know it’ll be too late.’
‘But Richard—’ It was a wail.
‘It’s no use, Helen, I simply can’t afford to chance doing it any other way…’
Helen…Helen O’Connell. So it was his future wife he was talking to.
‘It’s only too easy to be held to ransom and drained dry. But once I’m in a position of strength, my money can be used to greater effect.’
‘But it’s so…so drastic.’
‘I’ve given it a lot of thought and I’m satisfied that it’s by far the safest option.’
‘What do you suppose will happen when—?’
‘There’s bound to be a backlash of course,’ he broke in a trifle curtly, ‘but I’ll deal with that as and when it happens.’
‘Well, I think you’re making a dreadful mistake.’ Then, with a flare of hope, ‘You could always fight it through the courts.’
‘I considered that, of course, but it might take years and, as things stand at present, there’s no guarantee I’d win.’
‘But have you considered the ethics of it?’
‘You mean two wrongs don’t make a right?’ he suggested a shade grimly. ‘Oh, yes, I’ve considered all that. But I’ll do whatever it takes. As far as I’m concerned, the end justifies the means. I’ve far too much to lose to think of playing Sir Galahad…’
Standing, shivering and miserable, outside the living-room door, Tina was chilled anew by the icy ruthlessness in his voice.
This was a side of him that she hadn’t yet seen. But perhaps, as a successful businessman, he needed to have a ruthless streak.
Though his future wife didn’t seem to care for it. Sounding close to breaking-point, she cried, ‘Well, I still think you’re wrong. There has to be a better way…’ Then, with a touch of venom, ‘Unless, of course, it’s really what you want…’
As she heard the doorknob rattle beneath fumbling fingers, terrified of being caught eavesdropping, Tina turned to run.
Knowing she would never make it across the hall and up the stairs without being seen, she fled into the neighbouring study just as the living-room door opened and closed.
Through the window, which overlooked the courtyard, she could see a bright red open-topped sports car standing by the main entrance, sun ricocheting from its polished bonnet.
A few seconds later the front door opened and a tall, slim, dark-haired woman came hurrying out with Richard at her heels.
While he had remained calm and implacable, the argument—whatever it had been about—had clearly upset Helen O’Connell and she was in tears.
His face showing concern now, he made an obvious attempt to reason with her.
When, beside herself, she refused to listen, he took her arm. She pulled it free. He tried again to detain her but, with sudden unbridled fury, she turned and slapped his face.
Then, jumping into the car, she started the ignition, stamped her foot down and, with a reckless burst of acceleration, roared across the cobbles, through the archway and over the bridge.
Richard stood for a moment, his hand to his cheek, staring after her.
When he turned to make his way back inside, afraid that he might see her watching, Tina hurriedly moved away from the window.
She was heading for the door when, unwilling to chance running into him in the hall in case he guessed what she had seen and heard, she hesitated. It might be safest to stay where she was until the coast was clear.
The next second found her wondering if that was the right decision. He’d obviously been working in here when his visitor had arrived and a file had been tossed down and left on his desk.
Suppose he came straight back to the study?
Knowing she was trapped, she waited in an agony of suspense, listening for his approaching footsteps, wondering how best to explain her presence there.
When several minutes had dragged past without her hearing a sound, realising that he wasn’t coming straight back, she heaved a sigh of relief.
If she used the phone on the desk to ring for a taxi and arranged to meet it at the top of the drive rather than let it come through into the courtyard, she might be able to leave without anyone knowing.
It would mean going without her mobile, but that was a small price to pay.
She