‘Tilly, there’s something—’he began, and then had to stop when there was a brief knock on their bedroom door and they both heard Tilly’s mother calling out anxiously.
‘Are you ready yet?’
‘Almost,’ Tilly answered, giving Silas a rueful look as she slipped from his arms and went reluctantly to open the door.
‘Oh, you must hurry, then—because Cissie-Rose has just rung through to our room to say she wants us all downstairs now, because she’s got something important to say. Do you think she could possibly be expecting another baby, Tilly? Wouldn’t that be lovely? Oh, you both look fine. Come on, we may as well go down together. Art’s already down…’
‘You said we’d have the buffet at seven,’ Tilly reminded her. ‘It’s not even six yet.’ She had been looking forward to having some private time with Silas before they had to join the others, but it was obvious that her mother wasn’t going to leave without them.
He would tell Tilly later, when they came back up to their room, Silas promised himself. Preferably in bed, when he was holding her in his arms.
The familiar ache of his body for hers began to speed through him.
As they descended the stairs Tilly could hear the sound of familiar Christmas carols filling the hallway.
‘I remembered to bring a CD of carols with me,’ Annabelle told Tilly proudly. ‘You used to love them so much when you were a little girl.’
The children were all in one of the smaller salons, watching television and trying to guess what Santa would be bringing them.
‘There you are, Silas.’ Art’s voice boomed out. ‘You’re already a couple of drinks down on us.’
Tilly shook her head when Dwight offered to make her a drink, knowing from previous experience how strong it would be.
‘So what’s this news Cissie-Rose has for us, Dwight?’ Annabelle asked excitedly. ‘And where is she?’
‘She’s upstairs, taking a call.’
‘If I know Cissie she’s probably checking up on Hal to make sure he’s got the wording of our pre-nup right,’ Art joked.
Tilly looked anxiously at her mother, worrying about how she might be taking this less than romantic comment from her husband-to-be.
‘Sorry to have to keep you all waiting, but I just wanted to make sure I had all my facts right before I came down.’ Cissie-Rose paused dramatically in the doorway, and then slowly made her way over to Tilly. ‘That’s a mighty pretty engagement ring you’re wearing, Tilly. Pity that neither it nor your engagement is real, though. In fact there isn’t much that is real about you—is there, Silas? You see, Silas here isn’t Tilly’s fiancé at all. Are you, Silas?’
White-faced, Tilly reached for Silas’s hand and drew on the warm comfort of its reassuring grip. This was awful—dreadful. And she could hardly bear to look at her mother. There was no doubt in Tilly’s mind that this was Cissie-Rose’s revenge on them for Silas’s rejection. But Tilly still had no idea how on earth she had found out about them.
‘Tilly thinks that Silas is an out-of-work actor she hired to come here and pretend to be her fiancé, so that we’d think she was a clean-living girl who was about to get married. Poor Tilly,’Cissie mocked, giving her a malicious smile. ‘I really do feel sorry for you. Look at you, clinging on to him. How sweet. But I’m afraid there’s worse to come. Isn’t there, Silas?You see, Silas has been deceiving us all about the true purpose of his being here.’
‘You don’t understand,’Tilly protested fiercely. ‘Yes, I admit that I originally hired Silas as an escort to accompany me here. But since we’ve been here…’ She turned to Silas and gave him an anxious, pleading look that twisted his heart with pain.
‘Since you’ve been here what?’ Cissie-Rose taunted her triumphantly. ‘He’s taken you to bed and told you he wants you? Poor Tilly. I’m afraid it is you who don’t understand. Because if that is the case then he’s been lying to you as well as to us, and he’s made a complete fool of you. There’s only one thing he wants—only one reason he’s come here—and it’s got nothing to do with wanting you, has it, Silas? Or should I call you James? You see, everyone, this is James Silas Connaught.’
Tilly, who was battling to take in what Cissie-Rose was saying, saw the swift look of recognition Art and Dwight were exchanging, and something as cold as death started to creep through her veins like poison.
‘Yes,’ Cissie-Rose confirmed. ‘The journalist who has been trying to get an interview with Dad for the best part of a year. That’s right, isn’t it, Silas? He must have thought it was his lucky day when you gave him the opportunity to use you, Tilly. Of course he took you to bed. He’s known for being a journalist who always gets his story—aren’t you, Silas?’
‘No, that’s not true. It can’t be! There’s been some mistake,’ Tilly protested, white-faced. ‘Please tell me this isn’t true,’ Tilly begged, turning to face Silas.
‘Yes, there has been a very big mistake.’ Cissie-Rose laughed unkindly. ‘And you’re the one who’s made it, Tilly. Of course I saw right through you in a minute, Silas,’ she said. ‘Which is why I’ve had Dad’s lawyers doing some digging on you.’
‘Silas?’ Tilly begged. Why wasn’t he denying what Cissie-Rose had said?
‘Tilly, I can explain everything,’Silas told her fiercely.
Tilly stared at him. Where was the denial she had expected to hear? She couldn’t bear to see what she was seeing in Silas’s eyes. She wanted to run and hide herself away from the pain of it. She could feel herself starting to tremble violently inside. Nausea gripped her stomach, and a pain like none she had ever previously known tore at her.
‘How could you? How could you?’ She was still holding onto Silas’s hand, but now she released it, not caring what anyone else might think as she ran towards the door and headed for the stairs.
She had to escape from their mockery and contempt. She had to escape from her own pain and humiliation. But most of all she had to escape from Silas. She wanted to lock herself away somewhere private and dark while she tried to come to terms with what she had just learned. She would have defended Silas against all accusations Cissie-Rose had made against him, just as she would have given him her trust and her belief unquestioningly if he had denied what Cissie-Rose had said. But instead he had shown her with his plea, and more tellingly with the look in his eyes, that everything Cissie-Rose had accused him of was true.
She could hardly think or reason logically for the pain that was swamping her. What a fool she had been—to believe his lies about falling in love with her. And no wonder he had been so keen to talk with Art. A mirthless smile twisted her mouth. How ironic it was that she had been stupid enough, dense enough, besotted enough to praise him for his kindness. The pain tightened its grip, raking her emotions raw.
Silas caught up with her outside their bedroom door, refusing to let go of her when she tried to drag her wrist free of his imprisoning grip, bundling her inside the room and closing the door, enclosing them in what was for Tilly its tainted and treacherous intimacy.
‘Let