The Heiress. Cathy Gillen Thacker. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Cathy Gillen Thacker
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
Жанр произведения: Эротическая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472087409
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to make sense of what was going on. “Have you been drinking?” he demanded of Daisy, striding closer.

      “Not yet. But as they say, the evening is young,” Daisy continued sarcastically, picking up the bottle of champagne and waving it in front of her like a red flag in front of a bull. “And we have much to celebrate.”

      Gabe moved forward and just as promptly removed the heavy dark-green bottle from her hand. “Look, Daisy,” Gabe said, setting the magnum aside, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but you’re obviously upset, and—”

      Daisy gritted her teeth, her anger and disillusionment building to an untenable degree. There were times when she welcomed Gabe’s inherently good nature—this wasn’t one of them. “That a medical opinion, brother Gabe, or just a personal observation?” she asked with a saccharine smile.

      Trembling visibly, Grace murmured, “God help us,” and sank into a chair, covering her face with her hands.

      Tom gave Jack another look, even sterner and more commanding than before. No words were necessary between the two men. Daisy knew what the orders were—Jack was to get her out of the house, pronto. Ever the faithful, loyal Deveraux-Heyward Shipping Company employee, Jack slid an arm around Daisy’s waist and held her tight. “Obviously, Daisy is in no condition to be talking to anyone here tonight. So Daisy and I are going to be leaving now,” Jack announced firmly but pleasantly.

      “Not before I tell everyone what I came to tell them,” Daisy said, looking around at the tense, wary expressions on her half siblings’ faces. “That I’m Tom Deveraux’s love child.”

      AMY GASPED, Jack grimaced, Grace moaned. All three of Tom’s sons were shocked, silent. “It wasn’t love,” Tom corrected Daisy impatiently.

      Yet another illusion down the drain. “A mistake,” Daisy guessed.

      “And there’s no proof you’re even my child,” Tom continued, even more defensively.

      Daisy reeled at his unwillingness to claim her as his, even now. She knew what a loving father Tom was to his other children, that being a father was one of the primary joys of his life, aside from his work at Deveraux-Heyward Shipping. It was evident in everything he did and said. Hell, he’d even been a surrogate father to his housekeeper, Theresa Owen’s illegitimate child, Bridgett, over the years, out of nothing more than the goodness of his heart. Which made his refusal to claim her, Daisy thought, all the more stinging. Shoulders stiffening, Daisy regarded Tom resentfully. “You’re denying you slept with my birth mother?”

      Tom’s jaw clenched. “It was a one-night fling.”

      Like that excused and explained everything, Daisy thought even more furiously.

      “Daddy! You cheated on Mom?” Amy said.

      Tom shook his head and released a short, aggravated breath. “It was one night,” he defended himself impatiently.

      “But once, as they say, is enough,” Grace added in a low voice thick with tears.

      “Man, Dad.” Chase shook his head.

      “I don’t believe this!” Gabe murmured in horror.

      Mitch was silent, tense as he struggled to make sense of it, too.

      “But you knew you made Iris pregnant,” Daisy continued probing.

      Amy blinked and whirled to face Daisy. “Iris…?” she echoed.

      “Templeton-Hayes,” Daisy supplied the rest. “My sister. At least the woman I always thought was my adopted sister. Turns out she was really my birth mother and my adopted parents—Charlotte and Richard Templeton—are really my biological grandparents. And Connor is my uncle not my adopted brother. Funny, huh?” Not waiting for a response from the shocked half siblings around her, Daisy turned back to Tom, still struggling to find a way to obtain her own peace of mind. “Which brings us back to you. Why did you turn your back on me?” And please, Daisy prayed silently, let it be good.

      Tom uttered another long, tortured sigh. “Because I never knew for certain that you were mine.”

      “You never asked?” Daisy regarded him incredulously. How was that possible? A wealthy, self-assured, successful CEO, he wasn’t afraid of anything. And he certainly wasn’t shy about going after what he wanted! Tom ran his hands through his short, gray-brown hair and began to pace. “Iris went to Europe to learn the antique business, after our interlude. It seemed like a good move, a way to get both our lives back on track, and I wished her well.” Tom paused and frowned. “It wasn’t until Richard and Charlotte unexpectedly and suddenly adopted a baby some nine months later that I realized it was possible she’d become pregnant during the encounter and you were mine. So I confronted Iris.”

      “And…?” Daisy questioned impatiently.

      Tom shrugged his broad shoulders restively. “She denied ever having a child. I asked for a blood test anyway.” Tom scowled, recalling, “She said I would have to sue her publicly to get it, and if I did, she would not only refuse to take the test but countersue me for slander.” He looked at the assembled group, pleading for understanding. “I was trying to put my marriage to Grace back together, Iris was engaged to be married to Randolph Hayes IV in what was shaping up to be the wedding of the year. You were well taken care of, Daisy, with people who loved you and wanted the best for you. It just seemed right to let the matter drop.” Tom paused again, looking even more conflicted. “Even now, I don’t know that you’re actually my child, Daisy. Just that you could be.”

      “Well, I am your child,” Daisy countered hotly, incensed that Tom Deveraux could be trying to duck his responsibility, even now, when she had a red accordion file full of proof sitting on the front seat of her car. “At least according to the nuns at the convent in Switzerland, where my mother stayed when she was pregnant.” At Tom’s blank look, Daisy continued explaining, “Iris confided in one of them. Sister Agatha knew all about you. How you led her on, flirted with her for weeks and weeks, and then—one night—took her to bed, and then afterward, after you got caught by your wife, told her to pretend it had never happened.”

      The skin across Tom’s cheekbones stretched taut as he glared at Daisy. “You’re making it simple. It wasn’t.”

      “Oh, I think it was,” Grace interjected bitterly, standing and addressing everyone in the room for the first time. “Your father screwed around. He got caught. It happens all the time, especially to men of his ilk.”

      Chase looked at his mother, surmising humorlessly, “Dad’s infidelity is why you two divorced, isn’t it?”

      Tears gleaming in her eyes, Grace nodded and continued matter-of-factly, “Lord knows I tried to put it behind me. I really did. But after that, after I walked in on him and Iris, I could never trust him again.”

      Silence fell as everyone contemplated what an ugly scene that must have been, both during and after the philandering.

      Mitch looked at Daisy curiously. “What does your birth mother, er, uh, Iris, and the rest of your family—the Templetons—have to say about this?”

      “I haven’t talked to Charlotte, Richard or Connor yet,” Daisy said quietly.

      “Why not?” Gabe asked gently.

      Daisy threw her hands up in mute frustration. “Because they lied to me for years. All of them.” She looked at Tom again, aware there was a part of her, regardless of how angry, that already thought of him as her father. Just as Richard and Charlotte, who had adopted and reluctantly reared her and guided her through childhood, would always remain Mother and Father to her, too. Daisy sighed, and aware Tom was still waiting, still struggling to understand her motivation as desperately as she was trying to comprehend his, continued with a weariness that came straight from her soul, “And I wanted to hear your side of the story first. Now that I have—” Unable to go on, Daisy shook her head at Tom. Her throat aching unbearably, she turned and headed blindly for the door. “I’ve got to get out of here,”