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  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He walked over to the door and then paused by it, turning to face her. His face was almost grey. It was his pride that was hurt, nothing more, Selina told herself…he didn’t love her…that grey tinge to his skin, the way it stretched too tightly over his bones, meant only that his pride was wounded, and she would be a fool if she allowed herself to believe anything else.

  ‘And if you should be carrying my child?’

  It was the final hurdle and she took a deep breath to prepare herself for it, forcing a nonchalant shrug, managing to evade his eyes as she said coolly, ‘Well I shan’t follow my mother’s example.’

  ‘You mean you’ll have an abortion?’ His voice was harsh, tight with something that if she hadn’t known him and simply heard it she might have construed as sheer agony.

  ‘What’s wrong? Scared that I might ask you to pay for it?’

  He slammed the door and came towards her, fury in every line of his body. When he stopped short of the bed she found she was trembling visibly.

  ‘You’re not worth giving up several years of my life for,’ he told her very softly, ‘otherwise, believe me, there’s nothing that would give me greater pleasure than to deprive you of another breath.’

  He was gone before she could say a word. She heard him clattering down the stairs and then the slam of the front door, followed by the sound of a car drawing away.

  It was over. She had done it. She ought to be feeling relieved, but all she could feel was a vast nothingness…no pain…nothing… But the pain would come later. She knew that. She tried to get out of bed and found that she was trembling so badly she could hardly move. Her bedroom door opened and for a moment she felt a wild surge of hope, but it was Mary who stood there. Remorse coursed through her as she looked at the older woman. She had never meant to hurt her…

  ‘I expect you would like me to leave.’ She kept her voice neutral, avoiding the faded hazel eyes.

  ‘Why on earth should I?’ Mary crossed the room and sat down on the side of her bed, her eyes wise and very kind. ‘My dear, do you know what this will mean to Gerald?’

  ‘He’s done his duty by me,’ Selina responded shakily, not daring to trust in what she saw in Mary’s expression. ‘I can only be a reminder of things he’d rather forget.’

  ‘How could he forget the child he had fathered? Indeed if he could he would not have been the man I loved—enough to fight with every weapon I possessed to keep him—even my children. Oh yes,’ she said firmly when Selina looked at her. ‘I did fight for him, and it wasn’t an easy fight—or a clean one. I can’t tell you the anguish we’ve both suffered over you. Gerald because he could not give you the attention and love he gave to his other daughters, and myself because I knew that in keeping him I’d deprived you of the right to know your father—a very wonderful and special father, as each one of my daughters would testify.’

  ‘You…you don’t hate me?’ Selina said it wonderingly, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing.

  ‘Hate you? Oh my dear…’

  She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched her with compassion and caring, certainly her mother had never been the type to kiss and cuddle her, and adult though she was she could not stop the tears from forming and rolling down her face as Mary smoothed back her tangled hair and gave her a little shake.

  ‘Foolish, foolish girl,’ she chided. ‘You should have told us who you were. My dear…this is going to make Gerald so happy. I can’t wait to tell him. He’s tried so hard over the years to trace you…but he promised your mother he would not interfere in your life. He didn’t want you to be torn between two parents who could never be united.’

  ‘I thought he didn’t care about me… All my life I’ve believed that…that he rejected me…’

  ‘Nothing could have been further from the truth. Nor a birthday or Christmas has gone by without him suffering the anguish of losing you.’

  ‘Piers hates me…’ She hadn’t known she was going to say that until the words were out.

  Mary’s eyes soft with compassion as she looked at her. ‘Piers is a very complex man.’

  ‘Who hated my mother because of what she did to him and to you.’

  ‘But you are not your mother Selina,’ Mary said quietly. ‘Stay here and rest for a while, while I break the good news to G…to your father.’ She stood up and smiled down at her, adding softly, ‘Don’t worry… Believe me, there is nowhere on earth where you’ll be more welcome than in this house. It will be marvellous having another daughter about the place. It’s selfish of me I know, but I do so miss the girls’ company.’

  Events were moving with a speed that took Selina’s breath away. She had barely come to terms yet with Mary’s wholehearted acceptance of her, and now here she was taking it for granted that she would stay here as a member of the family. Part of her longed intensely to do that…to be cosseted and petted by Mary, and yet how could she stay after what she had said to Piers? This was his family too…

  Unable to rest or relax she got up and showered, dressing quickly. What would her father say when Mary told him? Perhaps he would not be as ready to accept her as his wife? Her stomach was churning nauseously by the time Mary came back.

  ‘Gerald would like to see you,’ was all she said, but the smile she gave her was warm and encouraging.

  She found her father sitting in his chair. When she opened the door and glanced uncertainly at him he stood up, holding out his arms to her.

  It was several minutes before either of them could speak, and when he did, his words warmed her chilled heart. ‘If I could have chosen anyone for my unknown daughter Selina, it would have been you. There has been a bond between us right from the start. Perhaps I should have guessed,’ he added with a brief smile. ‘All those excellent qualifications…’

  ‘Piers suspected… Well at least he suspected I was concealing something,’ she added huskily.

  ‘Yes, he told me. Mary said you were quarrelling this morning. Are you in love with him Selina?’

  What could she say? ‘Yes,’ she admitted shakily, ‘but he only desires me…or at least he did, until this morning,’ she said wryly. ‘Now I think he must hate me. I told him I took the job with you because I wanted money from you…revenge for…for the past, but it wasn’t true.’

  ‘My dear, you don’t need to tell me that, and if Piers wasn’t half-demented with love for you, he’d be able to see that for himself.’

  ‘Piers doesn’t love me!’

  ‘No? Then why should such an astute and capable lawyer be so easily deceived with lies that even a first-year trainee could demolish. Selina, I know my nephew.’

  PIERS could not love her! It was a thought that was constantly on her mind over the next few days, when the rest of the family had been told the news. Her three half-sisters had reacted so favourably that Selina was overwhelmed by their ready acceptance of her. Mary couldn’t wait to get her installed at Homings on a permanent basis and was already talking excitedly about the three of them going away for a holiday once Sir Gerald was well enough.

  Three days before Piers was due back from New York Dulcie arrived at Homings. If there was one person she dreaded meeting almost as much as Piers, it was Piers’ mother, but she need not have worried. After she had greeted her sister-in-law Dulcie hugged Selina warmly. ‘My dear, I’m so pleased that Gerald’s long-lost daughter is you… I can’t wait to tell Piers.’

  ‘He already knows.’ She said it quietly, aching with the pain of their final confrontation.

  Dulcie eyed her speculatively but said nothing.

  It wasn’t until just after dinner that she said firmly, ‘Selina and I are going for a walk in the gardens—alone. It’s my turn to get to know her.’

  There was no way Selina could refuse. The summer evening was warm without being close.

  ‘I can’t tell you how glad we all are to have found you at last, Selina. This will do wonders for Gerald, I know. He�
�s suffered a tremendous burden of guilt over the years.’

  ‘My mother was more to blame really.’ She said it in a low voice. ‘I used to hate my father… I thought he’d rejected me… And then I started hating myself… I thought you would all hate me too.’

  ‘Selina no one hates you.’

  ‘Not even Piers?’ Selina retorted bitterly.

  There was a small silence when she cursed her stupid tongue. Why had she said that?

  ‘I should say especially not my son,’ Dulcie said quietly at last. ‘He loves you, Selina.’

  ‘Has he told you that?’ She couldn’t bear to look at Dulcie, knowing as she did that the other woman must be wrong.

  To her surprise Dulcie responded wryly, ‘My dear, I’m his mother. He doesn’t need to tell me.’

  ‘I think you’re confusing desire with love,’ Selina said at last. ‘He may want me, but I can’t see how he could love me…especially not now…’

  ‘Why don’t you ask him?’

  Selina could feel her skin change colour. What Dulcie was suggesting was impossible. But what if she was right? What if Piers did love her? How could he, she derided herself? He had never said that he did. Neither did you, a contrary inward voice reminded her…

  Dulcie spoke again, her voice calm and assured. ‘Ask him Selina,’ she told her. ‘Or isn’t the answer important enough for you to find out?’

  Her small sound of pain must have betrayed her because Dulcie continued softly. ‘It’s not for me to say of course, but sometimes it’s worth taking a risk for the important things in life.’

  ‘If he does love me why doesn’t he…’

  ‘Tell you? According to Mary the two of you had a quarrel before he left for New York. He’s a very proud man Selina, and if you’ve given him reason to believe you don’t care about him, he’s hardly likely to tell you what he feels.’

  ‘He despises me.’ The words burst out of her. ‘He despises me and hates me as he did my mother… I know, I saw his face when I told him who I was.’ Her anguish must have reached the other woman because she sighed and said softly.

  ‘My dear, have you thought that he also loves and respects your father… Personally I believe that every child is itself, not a clone of its parents, but if you will persist in believing that Piers sees you only as the child of your mother, remember that you are also the child of your father too, and much more I would say than you were hers. Courage, Selina,’ she added softly. ‘Surely it’s better to find out now exactly what his feelings are than to torture yourself as you are doing at the moment?’

  If she was torturing herself it was because of the hurtful things she had said to Piers before he left. And he had believed them. Surely if he had really loved her he would have known… She sighed and walked back to the house in silence with her companion.

  Nothing more was said on the subject of Piers, but he was never out of her thoughts. On the morning he was due to fly back from New York she wandered tensely through the garden, aching for the sight and touch of him and yet dreading any further confrontation. What would his reaction be when he discovered how easily his family had accepted her? Could their acceptance of her cause a rift between them and him? Perhaps if she went to see him and offered to remove herself from their lives if he should wish it…

  She knew she was looking for excuses to see him…but she did not have the courage to simply breeze back into his life and ask him if he loved her. The more she thought about it, the more outrageous the possibility seemed. He had never once given her any indication that he might do so. Gerald, and Dulcie too, to some extent, saw her through rose-coloured glasses…not as Piers saw her.

  She was just about to walk back into the house when Dulcie found her. ‘Here is my key for Piers’ apartment,’ she told her softly, ‘and this is the address… He should be back sometime this afternoon. I’ve done all I’m prepared to do Selina…the rest must be up to you.’

  All morning she agonised over what she ought to do, but in the end the compulsion to see him proved stronger than anything else. Showering and changing into a cool cotton dress with a matching jacket she rang for a taxi.

  Gerald expressed mild surprise when she explained that she was going up to London for the day and probably wouldn’t be back until late. Mary smiled at her and fussed about the fact that she would be missing lunch, but Dulcie’s brief smile of approval warmed her chilled heart.

  Four hours later she was bitterly cursing her impetuosity. She had arrived at Piers’ apartment just over an hour ago, and had let herself in. It was immaculately tidy, the large sitting room decorated in firmly masculine creams and browns. She hadn’t explored any further than that room and the kitchen, not wanting to intrude any further into Piers’ privacy than she must.

  It was thirst and tension that drove her into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Piers should have arrived half an hour ago. She had deliberately timed her own arrival to coincide as closely with his as possible, knowing what the ordeal of waiting for him would do to her already over-burdened nervous system.

  Of course it was quite possible that the flight might have been delayed. Such things weren’t entirely unknown. But what if he didn’t come back alone? What if he was going out somewhere? Why, oh why had she come? Her hand shook alarmingly as she poured out her coffee and she had to search round the immaculate kitchen to find a cloth to mop up the small puddle on the work top.

  She had just carried her mug back to the sitting room when she heard a key turning in the main door lock. Her stomach churned wildly, a shiver of prehensile dread sliding down her spine. It was impossible for her to move. She could only stand and stare at the door.

  It opened abruptly, thrust wide by the powerfully tense movement of Piers’ hand. Her first thought was that he looked almost unbearably tired and thinner too. Beneath his tan his face was drawn, and before he masked them for her, his eyes blazed with a curious mixture of emotions as he saw her standing motionless on front of him.

  ‘Well, well,’ he said silkily, flinging his coat and case down on to one of the two settees. ‘What have we here? Changed your mind about wanting me to pay for the abortion, is that it?’

  It was all going dreadfully wrong. In the time they had been apart she had managed to convince herself that their quarrel hadn’t been quite so vitriolic as it had been. Now she realised her mistake. She shouldn’t have come here. Piers didn’t love her and anyone who thought he did was living in cloud cuckoo land. He loathed her, despised and hated her.

  ‘No…’ Her voice was shaky and thin.

  ‘Then what the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘I…’ Her throat was bone dry, and she ran her tongue nervously over her upper lip. God this was worse by far than she had imagined. ‘I wanted to tell you that my…that your…that the family want…want me to be part of it…’ Heavens, that wasn’t what she had meant to say. What was happening to her?

  ‘Oh yes, I’ve heard all about them killing the fatted calf,’ he said nastily. ‘Emma wrote and told me. Quite a triumph… Has my uncle been told how much it’s going to cost him yet…? What price do you place on your affections Selina…?’

  ‘None…there is no price…except that I be loved in return…’ Her voice cracked ominously over the admission but Piers appeared not to notice.

  ‘That’s a change of heart if ever I heard one,’ he derided bitterly. ‘Love? You? You’re so cold and wrapped up in your own grievances and bitterness, you aren’t capable of loving anyone.’

  ‘That’s not true.’ Her words had cut deep into her emotions and the denial burst from her without conscious thought.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ He came to stand in front of her, and her heart ached to see the lines of tiredness drawn in deep grooves alongside his mouth as it twisted in bitter contempt.

  All at once a terrible need to wipe that look from his face rose up inside her and would not be denied.

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ she said quietly, ‘I love my father…I lov
e Mary…and…and…’ her head came up and looked straight at him, ‘and I love you Piers.’

  The room had gone deadly quiet, so quiet that she could hear the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Dear God…what had she said? It was too late to retract the words now.

  ‘What did you say?’

  Her mouth was dry again and she moistened its tense outline with her tongue. ‘Don’t do that, damn you,’ Piers said harshly.

  Nervous and confused, she could only stare at him.

  ‘When did you discover this supposed “love” for me?’ he mocked coldly. ‘Certainly there was no evidence of it the morning I left for New York.’

  ‘I was doing what I thought was best for you.’ Her voice was toneless, her body lethargic and weak. She should not have come here, she knew that now. ‘I knew how much you despised my mother…you wanted me…you were even prepared to marry me when you knew that…that you had been my first lover. But how could I let you do it, knowing that I would have to tell you the truth and that you’d hate me for it…that you were only marrying me out of a sense of duty…? If you’ve ever loved anyone yourself you must know what I mean.’

  There was anguish and pain in her voice as it trembled over the last words. If he couldn’t love her then let there at least be peace and respect between them. She couldn’t endure living her life always in the shadow of his contempt.

  It was seconds before she could bring herself to look at him, and when she did she was shocked by the pallor of his skin. She reached out towards him instinctively, thinking he must be ill, her skin turning dark red as he flinched back from her as though unable to endure her touch.

  ‘Dear God,’ he said at last. ‘Is this true? Do you honestly believe it matters a damn to me who your parents are?’

 

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