Betrayal (26 page)

Despite the Italian's forthright warning she still didn't understand anything at all about this man who wanted to marry her.

Beckett Lodge was invisible from the road. It wasn't until Neal swung the car sharply right into the concealed entrance that Lisa realised they'd arrived, and even then there was a long, tree-lined drive to negotiate before the house came into sight.

It was a large, three-story, redbrick house with small leaded windows reminiscent of a Norman castle. An extra wing had recently been added, while to the right there was a stable block behind which she could see a wide stretch of grass sloping away to a considerable area of parkland.

The front door was white, matching the ornate iron grilles covering all the downstairs windows. As they approached, Lisa's eye was caught by a movement from a circular window set above the entrance porch. She glimpsed a girl's face looking out at her but when she looked closer it had vanished.

A tall, military-looking man wearing a dark suit and white shirt opened the door, and for a moment Lisa thought he was a business colleague. 'Darling, this is Wakefield, our butler. Wakefield, I'd like you to meet Mrs Walker who will be staying here for the weekend.' The faded blue eyes were polite enough but there was no warmth in them. 'I hope your stay will be pleasant, madam,' he said stiffly, gesturing for a young lad of about sixteen wearing a lighter coloured suit to step forward. Without a glance at either Neal or Lisa, he darted out to the car and began unloading their suitcases.

'That's Michaels,' explained Neal. 'He's slightly backward but a very willing lad once he understands what's expected of him. Tell him to put Mrs Walker's cases in the blue room, Wakefield.'

'Very good, sir.'

'Where are the girls?' added Neal, a note of irritation in his voice. Lisa, busy looking about her at the mahogany paneled walls and immaculately polished parquet floor with its beautiful Persian rugs, didn't hear him and was quite surprised when one of the numerous doors leading off the hall opened and a rather plain girl with brown hair emerged, holding a book protectively in front of her.

'Ruth, I wondered where you all were! This is Lisa Walker. Lisa, my middle daughter, Ruth.'

'I'm very pleased to meet you, Ruth.' Lisa smiled and put out her hand.

Ruth responded with a limp handshake and then hung her head as she muttered what Lisa assumed to be a welcome.

'Where are your sisters?' asked Neal sharply. Ruth's pale face flushed. 'I told you all to be waiting for us.'

'Louise is studying,' she murmured, still looking down at the floor. 'For goodness' sake hold your head up! Go and fetch Louise, please.'

Lisa watched Ruth walk heavily up the wide, curving staircase with its shining oak banister, her fears of a difficult weekend already confirmed.

'Sorry about the girls!' Neal gave a reassuring smile. 'Don't take it personally. They're never very sociable. Ah, here comes Rebekah!' The thin, dark-haired child coming down the stairs in front of them looked both shy and ill-tempered. She glanced defiantly at Lisa, as though daring her to speak.

'Rebekah, this is Lisa Walker,' smiled Neal. 'I didn't think it was the Easter Bunny.'

Her father drew his brows together in astonishment. 'We all know who she is,' the little girl continued, almost stammering in her anxiety to get the words out before she was stopped. 'We've seen her picture in the papers often enough. Mummy used to show it to us.'

'Hello, Rebekah,' said Lisa swiftly, stifling Neal's imminent outburst of rage.

'You're not as pretty as I expected,' continued Rebekah rudely. 'You aren't even wearing nail polish.'

'That's because I've got a little girl of my own and I'm forever doing her washing which makes all the varnish peel off.'

'You've got a little girl?' Suddenly there was a spark of interest in the child's eyes.

'Yes, she's… '

'Never mind that!' exclaimed Neal quickly. 'Go and fetch Louise. I can't imagine what she and Ruth are doing. I thought Louise would be anxious to meet Lisa.'

'She's already seen her from the porthole window. She said she looked like a tart. What's a tart?'

'Something you eat for tea!' said Lisa, attempting to keep smiling. 'How can a person look like a cake?'

'Go and get Louise!' muttered Neal. Rebekah's mouth set in a tight line but she did as she was told while her father guided Lisa into an enormous drawing room, at least forty feet long with a high white ceiling and a vast picture window overlooking a walled garden.

Cream drapes were tied back with thick cream cords while two comfortable chairs and a footstool upholstered in matching fabric were angled to look out at the view. By the far wall, dark-brown, high-backed velvet chairs were set round a low coffee table while at the far end a matching pair of early nineteenth century mahogany drum tables inset with green hide were covered with trailing plants in green and white cachepots. With its light aubergine carpet and attractive gold-framed hunting prints, the room's overall effect was both airy and clutter free, but Lisa felt a central focal point would give it a more welcoming air.

'I'm sorry about the girls,' Neal said stiffly. 'I warned you.'

'Frankly, I'm both astounded and displeased.'

'Don't get annoyed; just give them time.' Before he could answer, Louise drifted into the room. Lisa thought she was a very pretty girl but with a regrettably sulky mouth.

'Where the hell have you been?' snapped Neal.

Louise's eyes were innocent. 'Doing homework. You're always complaining I don't work hard enough at school. I thought you'd be pleased.'

'Not when I've brought Lisa down to meet you all.'

'Hi!' said Louise indifferently, her gaze fixed on Lisa's stomach, which mercifully was still amazingly flat. 'Rebekah says you've got a daughter of your own. I suppose she's been dumped with relatives while you're here?'

'No, she's stayed with her nurse.' 'Do you mean a nanny?'

'I mean a nurse. You see, Jessica's… '

'Right,' Neal interrupted, 'I think it would be nice to show Lisa round the grounds before it gets dark. We'll meet up by the stables in fifteen minutes. Does that give you enough time to freshen up, darling?'

'If someone would show me where my bedroom is?'

'I'm sure Daddy can do that!' Louise smirked, and despite herself, Lisa felt a blush spreading up her neck.

'Of course I'll show you,' said Neal courteously, but he shot a threatening look at his eldest daughter.

'How many rooms are there?' asked Lisa, relieved to find that she was on the first floor as her back was beginning to ache.

'On this floor there are three bedroom suites and three double rooms; the top floor has staff accommodation but only Wakefield sleeps there, which leaves the left wing deserted. Downstairs there's the drawing room that you saw, a dining room, study, small drawing room, kitchen and a vast utility room that houses everything without a proper home!'

'What's the new part of the house used for?'

'It isn't really part of this house, although there is a connecting door from my study. It's where my security men live.'

'Security men?'

'I'm afraid if you've got any money these days you have to protect your property very thoroughly. They're good men and well trained. One of them's an ex-SAS officer.'

'Simon never took precautions like that! Are you afraid of being burgled?'

'Not really, it's a more personal form of danger I'm afraid of. There's always kidnapping; the girls are targets for that, and there've been one or two threats against me.'

'If you were royalty or a pop star I could understand it, but… ' 'I assure you it's necessary.'

'Obviously you think so but I can't imagine… '

'Bishop uses it as a base as well,' added Neal, knowing that any mention of his name would divert Lisa's attention.

'He doesn't come into the house, does he? Even the sight of him turns me cold.'

'He joins us occasionally. Louise has quite a crush on him. Not that I'd allow her to get involved but it's amazing to watch her flirt when he's around!'

'What does Bishop think of that?'

'He probably sees her as his entrance ticket into the family! Seriously, I haven't a clue what he thinks. He isn't one to give anything away. I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes.'

Alone, Lisa looked carefully round her. The room was certainly blue, the shades varying from the very palest ice-blue of the curtains to the deep cobalt of the wool carpet. The bed had stunning light-blue parachute silk draped over the four posts, the white duvet and pillows trimmed with the same colour. Bluey-grey tapestries covered three walls, while the fourth had a vast walk-in wardrobe in light oak. The ceiling was covered mainly with white tiles but an occasional blue rose continued the colour theme. A vase of peacock feathers stood on a glass table by the window while the door to the stark, ice-blue bathroom had an overhead canopy and drapes matching those over the bed.

Once in the bathroom, she shivered. The large mirror over the basin showed her looking deathly white and she wondered who'd chosen such a cold theme. It wasn't friendly and was decidedly unflattering. She was relieved that she wouldn't be staying for long.

Her clothes had already been unpacked and she quickly took out a pair of rust-coloured slacks and matching jersey, then pulled on a multi-coloured mohair jacket that reached to just above her knees. It was one of Carol's own designs that helped disguise the small amount of weight she now carried. She was downstairs before Neal but Ruth was already waiting, dressed in scruffy jeans and what looked like a man's parka. 'Don't you ride?' she asked.

'To tell the truth I'm rather afraid of horses.'

'I adore them. I need a new horse but Daddy keeps cancelling every time we're due to go and look at one. We've got some good bloodstock here. It's a hobby for Daddy, but like everything he does it makes money as well.'

'You sound as though you think that's wrong.'

'I didn't mean to. You'd better not wear those shoes,' she added, looking at Lisa's flat Charles Jourdan pumps. 'Didn't you bring any wellies?'

'No.'

'We keep some spare ones in the utility room. There might be some your size. Go to the end of the hall, then turn right through the swing doors and along the little passageway.'

Lisa hurried down the hall and through the doors but stopped at the entrance to the kitchen as she heard her name mentioned.

'… young enough to be his daughter,' Wakefield was saying. 'Bold as brass too. You'd think she'd feel guilty coming here so soon after Mrs Gueras passed away.'

'Mind what you say,' cautioned a woman. 'If he was to hear, you'd be out without a reference.'

'If I got out at all.' Wakefield sounded suddenly gloomy. Despite herself, Lisa couldn't stop listening.

'It's only natural,' continued the woman. 'They say she's pregnant which doesn't give him long to get her introduced to the family and safely married. Besides, Mrs Gueras wasn't a proper wife to him as you very well know.'

'She doesn't look pregnant to me.' Wakefield's antagonism towards Lisa wouldn't be appeased. 'She's rather thin and hasn't got a scrap of makeup on her face. Her hair's all over the place too.'

'It's the Masters' woman I miss,' confided the woman. 'When I think… '

Her heart thumping against her ribs, Lisa forced herself on to the utility room where she grabbed the first pair of boots that looked suitable and almost ran back to the hall. She'd expected the girls to be against her, but not the staff.

'We thought you'd got lost,' said Louise, fiddling with her small Cartier watch. 'Daddy was just about to come and find you.'

'I… '

'What size are those?' interrupted Neal. 'About a six, I think.'

He turned them upside down. 'They're an eight! Really, darling!'

'If we don't hurry up it will be too dark even to see a horse, let alone the grounds,' said Ruth anxiously.

In fact the horses were less frightening than Lisa had expected, and Neal didn't attempt to get her to touch any of them, accepting her fear with tolerance.

'I don't like horses either,' said Rebekah, moving closer to Lisa's side as they watched Ruth feeding an enormous mare some sugar lumps. 'I'm afraid of horses, storms and spiders. Are you afraid of spiders?'

'A bit. I don't mind small ones but I wouldn't fancy dealing with one of those enormous foreign ones that come over in banana crates!'

'Are they big and furry with yellowy stripes?' Rebekah seemed curiously troubled.

'Yes, they're called tarantulas.' Rebekah stared blankly into the distance. 'They don't live here,' Lisa said reassuringly, realising that the little girl was trembling.

Rebekah's head turned slowly towards her. 'Don't they? I thought… '

'What?'

'I don't know.' She sounded confused. 'I thought I'd seen some once, but I can't remember when. It must have been a dream, I suppose. I do get bad dreams and I walk in my sleep.'

'Who puts you back to bed?'

'Nanny does if she finds me, but I often go back myself. It's only in the morning when I find my slippers in the wrong place or something like that, that I know I've done it.'