Daughter of Riches (74 page)

Perhaps in time she would be able to forgive Deborah, if not forget that she had killed a man and left someone else to take the consequences. Perhaps in time her subsequent kindness to Sophia and the fact that she had owned up in the end to save further misunderstanding would allow Juliet to feel more kindly towards her. But not yet. Not yet.

‘It was just a personal call,' she said coolly.

All day she kept thinking about the phone call, wondering why Dan wanted to see her and what he wanted to tell her.

Was he simply trying one last shot – hoping still that if he could regain her confidence he might still be able to put together the final pieces of the jigsaw for his story? Surely even he could not expect that? So perhaps there was a more personal reason. Hope flared in her. Perhaps she had been right to believe they had shared something special, perhaps it hadn't all been an act to further his own ends. That spark – that electric current of mutual attraction that had made her senses swim – couldn't have been all in her imagination – could it? But even if he did feel something for her, did she want to pursue it? What sort of future could there be with someone who could practise deception on her so readily?

She tossed the arguments back and forth, stacking them first this way, then that. And all the time she knew in her heart she had already decided. This was one time when her heart would rule her head. The thought of seeing him again, just once more, was irresistible, if only to find out what he was going to say to her. She was going to go.

At least it should mean I can get him out of my system one way or the other, she told herself. And knew that she was lying.

He was there waiting for her, standing near the bar with a clear view of the door. The moment she saw him she felt her stomach fall away and knew without a shadow of doubt that she had been fooling herself If she believed it would really be so easy to put him out of her mind.

‘Juliet. You came.' He sounded almost surprised.

‘Didn't you expect me to?'

‘To be honest, no, I didn't. Not after what you said to me on the telephone, and not considering what you must think of me. But I am very glad you did. What can I get you to drink?'

‘Orange juice, please.'

‘Oh surely …'

‘No, I want a very clear head. And I wouldn't like you to run away with the idea that you can soften me up with alcohol.'

‘Very well, orange juice it is.' He ordered her drink and another whisky for himself.

‘Well?' she said. ‘What did you want to see me about? I'm not going to tell you anything, you know, so it's no good you thinking I am.'

‘No,
I
am going to tell
you
something. But not here. Let's find a quiet corner.'

One of the window seats seemed reasonably secluded. They slid into it and Juliet was annoyed with herself for being so ridiculously aware of how close he was to her.

‘Well?'

‘First of all I want to say how sorry I am you had to find out about me the way you did.'

‘Not as sorry as I am.'

‘I should have told you the whole truth, I know, but somehow I left it too late and there wasn't a right moment. Stupid as it sounds, I was very afraid of losing you.' Her heart was hammering. She looked away from him.

‘I wouldn't worry about it. Lots of people are deceitful and anyway it's all water under the bridge now.'

He leaned forward.

‘Juliet, I know this will probably sound very hollow but I promise you I have no intention of writing a word about your family. In the beginning, yes, I admit I did think it would make a marvellous story and yes, I was going to use it for my latest project if I could turn up enough new and startling facts. But somewhere along the line my priorities changed. It was brought home to me, rather forcefully, that the truth might do a great deal of harm.'

‘To the person really responsible.'

‘Not just the person responsible. I really couldn't care less about castigating the guilty. They deserve to be found out, at least, that's my philosophy. But I realised the innocent might well be hurt too, and I couldn't justify that.'

She smiled but her lips felt tight.

‘An attack of conscience at last! Is that why you asked me here? To publicly beat your breast?'

‘Partly. It does matter to me very much what you think of me.'

‘You surprise me! I thought investigative reporters had skins like rhinoceroses. But couldn't we get to the point? You said on the telephone you had something to tell me. What is it?' She did not know quite why she was being so sharp, unless it was as a defence against being hurt again.

A muscle tightened in Dan's cheek but he did not rise to her jibe.

‘There is something I thought you ought to know,' he said quietly. ‘Do you remember Raife Pearson telling you someone was not quite what they seemed?'

‘I thought you were dropping your investigations!' she flared.

‘I am. Most of my files are shredded already and I promise you that what I am going to tell you will go no further. This is totally and absolutely off the record.'

‘So you say.'

‘I don't know what else I can say to make you believe me. Except that time will prove it, I suppose. And the fact that I am passing this on to you because I think you should know.' He paused. ‘The person Raife was referring to was David's wife, Deborah. She knew Louis, you see. She was at the Jersey Lily Nightclub with him the night he died.'

‘I know.' Juliet said.

‘You know?'

‘Yes, and I really don't want to talk about it.' Juliet was surprised at how protective of Deborah she suddenly felt. ‘Let's just leave it at that, shall we?'

He nodded but she could see she had non-plussed him. Quite a feat, she thought grimly, taking the wind out of Dan's sails! But the victory was a hollow one. She had hoped he had asked her here to tell her he really had felt something for her, that it hadn't been a charade, but it hadn't been that at all. He had just wanted to stir a little more.

‘Well if there's nothing else I think I should be getting along,' she said coolly. ‘I'm going home on Monday and I really should be spending the little time I have left with my family.'

‘Oh, so you really are going?'

‘Yes. I have a job waiting for me. And my fiancé.' Again, she didn't know why she had said that when the thought of Sean was like a gate closing behind her. A desire to keep the initiative perhaps. Or to show him she had a life that had not been touched by their encounter and hide just how much she was hurting inside.

‘Oh, yes. Your fiancé,' he said. A note of bitterness had crept into his voice. She interpreted it as sarcasm. ‘ Well in that case I won't keep you from the people who are obviously important to you.'

She looked at him, at the hard line of his mouth, and suddenly she knew she was going to cry. Clearly it had meant nothing to him at all; that powerful attraction had been just a passing thing. It was one of the perks of the job to him, perhaps, seducing the girl in the case whoever she might be. She'd been a complete fool to think it might be otherwise.

She stood up, somehow managing a small bright smile in spite of the ache in her throat.

‘Goodbye, Dan.'

She turned and fought her way to the door. Outside the night air whispered softly the scents of spring. A small crescent moon and just one star hung over the purple skyline. Juliet saw them through a haze of tears. She half-ran across the car park, fumbling in her bag for her keys. But her hands were shaking too much and with her eyes full of tears she could not find them. She leaned against her hire car, head bowed against the cold metal, and wept.

Dan watched her go through the door and tossed back his drink moodily.

Damn and blast, he'd buggered that up and no mistake! He hadn't said one of the things he'd intended to, she hadn't let him. She obviously despised him for what had happened and who could blame her? She had even thought he was still investigating because he'd been stupid enough to tell her about Deborah. He wasn't, of course. He'd just thought she ought to know – and telling her had been one way of putting off the moment when he had intended to bear his heart and tell her … what had he been going to tell her? That he was in love with her? Even now, even feeling as he did, the putting it into words was close to impossible. He was too rusty on that score. One thing to chat up the girls, another to say those three trite little words he had only ever spoken to Marianne.

And yet it was true. If wanting someone so much stirred up this torment of emotion then yes, he loved her. If being prepared to give up weeks of work to save her from being hurt, then yes, he loved her. If thinking of her with that bastard fiancé of hers made him want to go and kick his face in then yes …

For God's sake you can't let her go like this! he thought. If you sit here and let her walk out of your life you're a bloody idiot and you have no one but yourself to blame. He slammed down his drink on the table and made for the door.

The car park was dark and looked deserted. His heart thudded with sick despair. Too late. She'd gone.

And then he saw her. Standing beside her car, head bowed, hands covering her face. He raced across the car park.

‘Juliet!'

She looked up, startled. To his surprise he saw that she was crying. He wanted to put his arms around her, hold her, wipe away the tears. Instead he said awkwardly: ‘Juliet – don't go. Not yet. There's a lot more I want to say to you.'

She swallowed her tears, looking up at him with that same hard edge. But he felt he could see beyond it now.

‘Really?' she said.

He nodded. ‘ Really. And I promise none of it has anything to do with your grandmother. It's more to do with you … and me. Look, I know we've got off to a pretty bad start, but don't go like this. Not before we've had a chance to …' He broke off. He still hadn't said it, damn it – still didn't know how he was going to even.

‘Oh Dan!' she said softly and suddenly he knew he was halfway there already. Just by coming after her he had begun to break down the barriers, the rest would follow.

‘I've been a bloody fool, Juliet,' he said. ‘ Give me the chance to start all over again.'

She fumbled in her bag again, this time, miraculously, the keys came to hand almost immediately.

‘Let's sit in the car,' she said.

‘There is just one other thing,' Dan said a good deal later. ‘I know you hated the thought of me as an investigative reporter – do you think you could cope with me being a policeman?'

‘A policeman!'

‘That's what I was before my accident and to be honest it's all I ever wanted to do. I know I let myself get eaten up by bitterness over what happened but I suppose they didn't have a lot of choice really – a policeman has to be fit. I over reacted I expect – I was damned hurt and I wanted someone to blame. But I think I've got things in perspective now. My leg is healed. There's no reason why I shouldn't reapply for the job. And Phil Gould – my old inspector – thinks they'll have me back without any trouble.'

‘Dan …'

‘Don't say you hate the idea!'

‘I don't. It just takes a little getting used to. This all takes a little getting used to.'

‘I know. Pretty staggering, isn't it? An hour ago I didn't know how to tell you I loved you and now I've bloody well asked you to marry me!'

She grinned. ‘Don't swear at me, Dan Deffains!'

‘That's probably something else you'll have to get used to. My language is not always beyond reproach. But for you – I promise to try.'

She snuggled into him, loving him, feeling as if at last she had come home.

‘No, Dan. I really don't want you to change a thing.'

‘So,' Sophia said softly, ‘I got my wish. You are staying, Juliet,'

‘Yes. And Mum and Dad are coming over too, to meet Dan, so you'll see them again.'

‘That might be very embarrassing at first, after so long, but it will be very nice to have all my family together again if only for a little while.' She smiled at Juliet. ‘It seems to me that everything has worked out very well. Everyone is happy – you, me, Dan, your Aunt Catherine is over the moon to hear you are going to marry the son of the one man I think she ever really cared for. Yes, everyone is happy.'

Everyone but Sean, Juliet thought. He had been dreadfully upset when she had telephoned to tell him the news. But he'd get over it. Now she was out of the way he'd soon find someone else – Australia was full of long limbed bronzed beauties and what they had shared had never been right.

‘I know it sounds very trite, Sean, but I know you will find someone who will make you much happier than I ever could,' she had told him. ‘My heart was never really in it; you deserve better than that.'

And he had said, sad but resigned: ‘I knew, Juliet. I think I knew the moment you got on that plane that I had lost you.'

‘Be happy, Sean,' she had whispered but she thought he had already put the phone down.

‘Yes, everyone is pleased as punch,' Sophia said now. ‘And I hope you are finding it in your heart, Juliet, to forgive Deborah. You really must not hold it against her, you know. I don't, and I don't want you to either.'

Juliet smiled, the smug happy smile of a woman in love. ‘ I suppose I can't, really, since if it weren't for Deborah, Dan and I would never have met.'

‘Have you told him the truth about what happened?' Sophia asked.

‘Not yet. I probably will one day. Do you mind that?'

Sophia shook her head. ‘My dear, I trust Dan completely. As I did his father. He knew I hadn't killed Louis, I'm sure he did. But he went along with my wishes. I'm sure your Dan will do the same.'

Juliet nodded. In spite of a very unpromising start she was sure of it too.