A few seconds later she punched in Evan’s mobile number, but it was turned off. No doubt Evan was with Uncle Robin, whom she had been wanting to talk to for several weeks. Linnet thought suddenly of her cousin India Standish. India had gone up to Leeds from London very early that morning, to start working on plans for revamping the store. Linnet was close to her cousin. In fact everyone in the family loved India. She had an understanding heart, was kind, with a loving nature. Many thought she was delicate, even frail, but her elegant aristocratic looks inherited from the Fairleys belied her character.
Linnet knew she was practical, down to earth, strong physically, and that, like their great-grandmother Emma Harte, she was absolutely fearless. India worked with her in the fashion department of Harte’s in London, and they had been close friends since childhood. India had grown up on her father’s estate Clonloughlin in Ireland, but she had spent every summer at Pennistone Royal. And Linnet loved to boast of some of India’s brave deeds as a child … like the time she rushed out into the backyard at Pennistone Royal wearing huge oven gloves in order to separate two dogs fighting over the dead body of a rabbit. Or the day Linnet’s little sister Emsie had climbed into the big oak and got stuck in the upper branches. Undeterred by Linnet’s warning that they would both fall out of the tree, India had climbed up it, had sat with Emsie, stopped her wailing and held her tightly until Linnet had come back with Joe, the estate-manager, carrying a tall orchard ladder.
Yes, Linnet decided, India would be helpful in this situation, and she got on well with the sometimes difficult Tessa.
India would be staying at Pennistone Royal for the next few days, as she usually did. I’d better warn her about the situation there, Linnet thought, tell her what’s happened, before she goes over there later. She dialled her cousin, and waited patiently as the mobile rang and rang.
‘That’s your phone ringing, not mine,’ Russell ‘Dusty’ Rhodes said, looking across at India, who stood next to the window.
She frowned, glancing around the bedroom, exclaiming, ‘Heavens, where’s my bag?’
‘Over there, on the chair. Under your dress.’
‘Oh gosh, yes, you’re right.’ As she spoke she ran to the chair, clutching the towel around her body; with her other hand she grabbed the bag, groped inside for the ringing mobile phone, turned it on, held it to her ear. ‘Hello?’
‘India?’
‘Hi Linnet.’
‘Where are you? At the Leeds store already?’
‘No. I stopped in for a few minutes, then went to … lunch.’
Dusty grinned at her from the other side of the room and began to laugh.
She glared at him and silently mouthed, ‘Be quiet.’
Linnet said, ‘India, there’s a problem. Adele’s disappeared. Several hours ago, and Tessa’s frantic.’
‘Oh my God!’ Alarm registered in India’s eyes and she sat down heavily in the chair, concentrating on the phone call.
‘She could be lost in the grounds, might have just wandered off,’ Linnet went on, ‘but somehow I doubt that. Personally, I think Mark Longden snatched her, and so does Tessa.’
‘Yes, I agree. But surely he wouldn’t hurt her –’
‘True,’ Linnet interrupted, ‘but things sometimes do go wrong, so we’ve got to find her before anything untoward does happen. I’ve brought Jack Figg in to help, and there’s a search party looking for her at Pennistone Royal. I should be there myself in half an hour.’
‘Perhaps I’d better come too.’
‘You might as well finish lunch, India. There’s not a lot you can do except be there for Tessa. Obviously, she’s very upset.’
‘I can well imagine.’ There was a slight hesitation on India’s part, and then she asked worriedly, ‘You don’t think Jonathan Ainsley has anything to do with this, do you?’
‘I sincerely hope not, but if he does it really changes the picture.’
‘Yes, you’re right. But what do you –’
‘Let’s not go there, India. At least not yet. I’ll see you later.’
‘I’ll leave shortly.’ India clicked off the phone and put it back in her bag. Her face was paler than ever, her eyes anxious.
‘What’s happened?’ Dusty asked, sitting up straighter in the bed, looking at her alertly. ‘You sounded frightened. No, not frightened, you’re not frightened of anything, are you? Concerned is possibly a better word. Or alarmed.’
India stared back at him, nodding. ‘I am a bit alarmed, yes. Adele, Tessa’s little girl, has vanished and Linnet says it could be Mark Longden’s doing.’
‘That’s bad. What do you think?’
‘I tend to agree. Mark’s not very nice, and it’s more than likely he took her.’
‘She’s not lost somewhere on that vast estate perhaps?’
‘It’s possible, I suppose. But I think she would’ve been found by now. She’s still a toddler. How far could she get? Linnet says it’s several hours since she went missing, and there’s a search party out.’
‘Why would he take her? Stupid question, Rhodes,’ he answered himself, shaking his head. ‘As a weapon in the divorce … he’s using her against your cousin, using her in order to manipulate Tessa.’ He ran a hand through his black wavy hair and a look of contempt crossed his face. ‘People. What shits they are, how they disgust me. He’s a real bastard if he’s using his child in that way.’
India sighed, stood up, reached for her clothes.
‘You can be there in less than an hour, so come back to bed.’ Dusty’s voice was lower, suddenly tender, and he smiled at her seductively. She noticed yet again how white his teeth were against the tan of his face. ‘Come back to bed with me, let’s do it all again,’ he insisted.
India shook her head. ‘I do think I have to go, Dusty,’ she answered, but regret registered on her face.
He could not fail to miss that expression, knew at once that she wanted to stay. He saw the desire in her eyes, the look of yearning. He threw back the sheets and got out of bed, walked towards her purposefully, still smiling that beguiling smile of his.
India thought his blue eyes looked suddenly dangerous, almost predatory. Her stomach lurched and she felt weak; he always managed to make her feel this way at some point or other when they were together … shaking inside … swooning … trembling. She was always his willing partner in anything he wanted to do with her … sexually aroused by a mere glance from him, the touch of his hand.
As he drew close she thought how impossibly good-looking he was, almost absurdly handsome. It was as if a sculptor had spent endless hours shaping most of his face: straight, patrician nose, broad forehead, high cheekbones, perfectly rounded chin. And elegantly arched brows above those dazzlingly-blue eyes that became soulful with passion, could turn icy cold in anger. He did not have one of those pretty-boy, matinée-idol faces; it was ruggedly handsome, with sharp angles and planes, as if the sculptor had suddenly wanted to finish quickly and had become slapdash.
His face matched his body. He had a solid torso – broad chest, wide shoulders above slender hips. About five feet eleven, he gave