An Unbreakable Bond (11 page)

The air crackled with tension and he could feel the rage and billowing darkness that was seeping from her, but there was no place in him for pity. He knew he’d thwarted her plans, but he also knew that she wouldn’t be on the open market long before snaring some other rich bachelor to use for her political gains. Looking her straight in the eye he spoke softly, “I’m sorry Cara, but it won’t work and although I care about you, I don’t love you.”

“But you don’t have to love me!” she laughed.

Images of his future stretched out before him, filled with the endless hours of work, the empty home life and the constant void of loneliness. He didn’t want to narrow his life down this funnel. He wanted what Annabelle drew out of him, that intensity for living. Looking at Cara’s rigid form he soothed, “Cara, don’t you want an emotionally fulfilling marriage where you are loved and respected?”

She tutted loudly, “What is wrong with you Tristan? Where has all this talk come from? There is no-one more career driven than you and up until a few days ago, power and prestige was number one on your list and now you’re talking about wanting emotional fulfillment, love and respect?”

“I want more than this…” He spread his hands out to include her. “I want it all.”

Lifting her nose in the air, she put her head back on the seat and looked at him through the slits of her eyelids. “Is this about the girl?”

“What girl? What are you talking about?”

“You know, the girl in the pictures at the exhibition?”

Tristan was totally lost on this one. “Cara, you’re not making any sense.”

“You don’t know do you?” She looked at him pensively.

“Know about what?” The hairs on his neck began to rise and there was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Stalling for time, she slowly pulled out a handkerchief from her bag and mindlessly traced the embroidered initials. “Well, that night, after we left Katie’s exhibition, I asked your grandfather for the photo albums, so that I would be able to recognise some of the faces of your relatives for the wedding.” She blew her nose.

Impatience fired through him. He hated it when she schemed to deliberately take her time to get something across. Leaning forward, he touched her hand to show her that she had his full attention. “Go on,” he insisted.

“Well, there were some photos of you from when you were very young, but the main
batch were
from when you lived at Edingthorpe Hall for those six years. I recognised Annabelle on some of them and there was another guy who wasn’t familiar.”

“Yes, that would be Wade, Annabelle’s brother.”

She nodded. “Anyway, there were a few more photos of Annabelle with a baby in her arms and I didn’t think much of it until I saw her on another photo with the same girl from the pictures at the exhibition.”

Losing all sense of peripheral sight, Tristan wheezed as his breath was sucked out of him and a bolt of shock rippled through his body. “You think Annabelle has a daughter?” he whispered.

She squinted up at him. “Yes, but that’s not all of it.”

Dazed and feeling slightly removed from reality, he gestured with his hand for her to continue.

“Did you ever have a sexual relationship with her?”

He was about to tell her to mind her own business but decided against it. If she had information about Annabelle he needed to know about it. “We had one night together nearly ten years ago. It was the night before I left.”

“So, she was just a one night stand then?” she sneered.

“If you’re implying that she meant nothing, then you’re wrong. We were friends and it happened at the wrong time that’s all.”

“Did you wear protection?”

“Christ Cara, what kind of question is that!”

She lifted her eyebrows at him.

“No,” he answered. “Are you satisfied now?”

“Very,” she replied haughtily before continuing, “There were so many photos of the girl ranging from birth, to the age of when we saw her in the pictures at the exhibition, but the thing is Tristan your grandfather was in a lot of those photos and he had a copy of the prints from the gallery.”

“And..?” He blinked rapidly.

Tutting loudly again, she rolled her eyes. “You’re not getting it! That girl is the spitting image of you and I guess she’s about nine years old and if my female intuition is right, you could be her father!”

Reeling back into the seat with shock, he protested, “But that’s ridiculous! Gramps would have told me!”

“Think about it Tristan. I put two and two together just from making a connection with the gallery pictures and a bunch of photos, but you…well…you’ll need to ask some pretty important questions.”

“I…I don’t believe you,” he faltered. Everything drained out of him at the thought that he could have a secret daughter with Annabelle. The possibility that a part of him had been living without his knowledge for ten years defied his morals and sense of logic. His world was being tilted on its axis

“So, why would your grandfather keep photos of this girl and the prints from the gallery?”

“I don’t know, maybe he has a soft spot for Annabelle’s daughter?” Agitation was churning away in his stomach.

Smiling weakly, she glared at him. “Yeah, but that doesn’t answer the fact that she looks just like you. Anyway, your grandfather probably had his own reasons to keep quiet and you will need to talk to him about it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe it was Annabelle’s decision not to let you know?”

There was no colour left in his face and bile was rising into his mouth. If this was true then he’d been lied to by his own family, and more importantly, Annabelle had deceived him.

Cara moved from her seat opposite and sat beside him, placing a hand over his. “Think about it carefully Tristan. If this is true, we could take April back to Texas with us and raise her together. It’s a brilliant solution. I will have all the connections and power I need and you will have someone to love and cherish.”

He looked down at their hands.
“And what about Annabelle.
What will happen to her?”

She tensed beside him. “Well, with your money and influence, I’m sure she’ll see that her daughter will have a much better life with us. Any mother worth her salt would give their child that opportunity.”

Pulling his hand out from beneath hers, he slowly raised his eyes to hers and saw the glee at being able to hold the power that would bring Annabelle down and cause her to suffer. Disgust rocked through his being. “You’re not fit enough to be a mother nor do you even match up to what is inside Annabelle. You’re less than dirt on her shoe!”

Bright red infused her face and she jerkily moved back to the seat opposite. “You will regret this Tristan.”

He refused to look at her as he tapped at the privacy screen for the driver to continue the journey.

As they arrived at Edingthorpe Hall, the car door was opened and he moved to leave just as Cara threw her final words at him.

“You do know that daddy will have a lot to say about this?”

“I suggest he doesn’t utter a word. He has no choice in the matter. Please make arrangements to leave Edingthorpe.”

Switching cars to the rental he shot off back out of the drive and headed towards the Café Bistro in the village. The owner may be able to tell him what had happened to the
Summers
family. From seeing her the other day, he knew she still lived in the village, but he just didn’t know where. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind and his emotions went on a rollercoaster ride from being elated at maybe having a daughter to absolute black fury. He thought back to the exhibition and his conversation with Katie. She was nervous about him seeing the pictures and she was protective of her ‘client’.

My God, Katie knows!

He was livid. Did everyone know apart from him?

Did Wade know?

Pulling up outside the Café, he took out Annabelle’s business card from his pocket and dialled the shop. No answer. Next he searched for Katie’s card.

“Hi, Katie speaking.”

“Did you know?”

“Who is this?”

“It’s me, Tristan. Did you know that Annabelle had a daughter?”

Silence.

“Damn it! Did you know?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Is it the girl in the pictures?”

“Yes.”

“Is that my daughter Katie? I have to know?”

A heavy sigh filled his ears down the phone.

“It’s not my place to say Tristan. You need to ask Annabelle.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Where does she live?”

“I can’t give you that info either, sorry.”

The line went dead. Angrily, he threw his long legs out of the car door, slammed it shut and strode into the Bistro.

Rafe was polishing glasses behind the bar when a tall powerful man entered. Dressed in a dark blue suit with a white shirt which was open at the collar, he looked like a city type. His jet black hair, strong jaw and dangerous mood would bring anyone to their knees. Rafe smiled, he could use a man like him to serve behind the bar. The women would come flocking through the door!

Reaching the bar in two strides, Tristan instantly recognised the man behind it. “Hey Rafe, what are you doing here?”

Surprised, Rafe studied the powerful man more closely. “Blimey! Is that you Tristan?” Rafe came around the bar and slapped him on the back. “It’s been a long time since I saw your face.”

They shook hands in greeting.

Looking around the Bistro, Tristan grinned. “Nice place Rafe. How come you ended up here?”

Rafe laughed. “Well, I decided to put the chef training that I got from the kitchens at Edingthorpe Hall to good use, so I opened up my own place.”

“Did you buy it off the
Summers
family?”

“Yeah, about three years ago, when it was still a greengrocer’s.”
He stepped back behind the bar. “Hey, let me get you a drink on the house.”

“No, that’s OK Rafe, maybe another time. I just got here a few days ago and I’m looking for Annabelle and Wade?”

“Well, Wade is out on a rig in the North Sea. He comes home about once every six months, but Annabelle still lives around here.”

Tristan’s heartbeat speeded up, but he proceeded to remain cool. “Do you know her address?”

Stalling for a moment, Rafe stared at him intently. “Well, seeing as it’s you, I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you. OK, at the end of the road turn left into Church Street and she is in cottage number four.”

“Thanks Rafe. I will call back for that drink before I leave!”

“You’d better!” Rafe waved him off as Tristan left.

Outside he took in a deep breath. His mind was in chaos. Ten years ago he’d had the most sweetly devastating night of his life and as a result he may now have a daughter. How could she have kept this from him? Sadness gripped him as he thought about her coping alone for all this time, but it was quickly replaced with blind fury as he realised she’d deceived him. He swore deeply as he rounded the corner into Church St.

Chapter 7

Annabelle had raced home, passing the parked limo and picked up April from her mother’s in record time. Frantic about being seen, rather than leave the car in full view on the drive, she once again hid it in the garage. The impact on her nerves from earlier had made her skittish and she just needed to be at home with her daughter and feel normal again. Ten minutes later, after throwing off their shoes and jackets, they were kneeling on the floor with their heads in the fridge.

“Okay sugarplum, what shall we have for lunch?”

“Pancakes,” cried April.

“If you eat any more pancakes you’ll begin to look like one!” April fell to the floor laughing as Annabelle tickled her.

Resuming their position at the fridge, Annabelle poked about. “How about cheese and broccoli pasta bake?” April pulled a face and Annabelle laughed, “With a blueberry pancake for dessert.”

“Okay, deal done!” grinned April.

They took out the ingredients and plonked them on the kitchen table. “Right April you’re in charge of the pasta and cheese and I will be in charge of the broccoli and pancakes.”

Beaming, April ran over to the CD player and switched it on. Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes sang out. “Now I’ve had the time of my life.” It was the soundtrack CD to their favourite movie, Dirty Dancing and they began to sing at the top of their voices. This was their Sunday routine, cooking, singing and dancing.

Tristan hesitated at the doorbell. Is that music and singing? What the hell is going on in there? He checked the number next to the bell, it said number four. He pressed the bell and waited.

Leaving April, who was still singing, Annabelle went to answer the door. Smiling to herself as she opened it, she wasn’t prepared for the waiting bombshell. Standing there, towering over her was Tristan. Gobsmacked, she tried to shut the door, but he prevented her from closing it on his face with his foot. Using one hand he forced it open and stepped inside. The absolute strength of him knocked her back.