Unknown (2 page)

'Don't rush into anything,' Caroline warned.

'I'm twenty-five,' Jane replied, 'and unlike you I can't afford to wait for my ideal. Let's face it, once I lose my youthful bloom, what have I got?'

Caroline could not deny the sense of Jane's reasoning. Her friend was pear-shaped and toothy. Yet she was also intelligent and had a great sense of humour. They had been friends since schooldays and when Caroline first started work, Jane had invited her to share the flat and pay any rent she could afford. Now Caroline could manage the upkeep on her own and was pleased at the prospect of having the chance to do so.

The next couple of days passed quickly, with Caroline helping Jane sort out her things for the removal men to crate up, and almost before she was aware of it, it was the day of the Berkeley show.

She was at the hotel by nine, for part of it was being filmed, and it had to be rehearsed thoroughly. Leaving her car in the hotel's underground car park, she went to the ballroom where she was greeted by several other models and the usual pandemonium that preceded any well organised fashion event.

A catwalk had been set up in the centre of the brilliantly lit room, and there was a stage behind it, occupied now by Rick Henderson, a T.V. personality who was acting as compere. Caroline had met him several times and always tried to avoid him, for he gathered information about people like a sponge drawing in water, and was equally adept at spreading it around again. Because of this he was a useful source of information, but a dangerous friend.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Caroline casually asked him if he knew Matthew Bishop.

Rick looked at her sharply. 'Not taken with him, are you, sweetie?'

'I've never met him.'

'Then steer clear. His ward has first claim on him and she won't willingly let go.'

'My interest is purely professional,' Caroline told him. 'I've been approached by one of his companies and I know he's taking a personal interest in the project. I wondered what he was like.'

'Highly eligible, with three or four million at least, but a bit too rough and ready for you, I'd say.' Rick's eyes were as sharp as his tongue. 'All the girls go for him, of course, and he's never been known to turn down a good offer!'

'I don't expect to make him any offers,' Caroline retorted.

'I've heard that one before. But money is a magnet, my angel, and there's no bigger draw than a fat bank account.'

'Which I'm sure his ward is guarding,' Caroline said lightly.

'With both hands,' Ricky agreed. 'How about a date in exchange for some more information?'

'I don't want any more information.'

Rick looked put out; then his love of gossip won the day. 'Helen's lived with Matt since she was twelve. Her parents were killed in a plane crash on the way to Aintree. Matt was the pilot but came out without a scratch—which did nothing for his guilt complex.'

'I can see why,' commented Caroline.

'He was also a good friend of the wife. A
very
good friend,' he added, 'so that made him feel doubly responsible for Helen. According to rumour, she's now ready to take over where her mother left off, if you get my meaning?'

'But she's engaged to Mark Ingle.'

'Only to try to make Matt jealous.'

'Is he?
^!
Caroline asked, not particularly caring.

'No.' Rick grinned. 'Which only makes Helen all the more bitchy.'

'How do you know all this? Or shouldn't I ask?'

'I never divulge my sources of information, or people would never confide in me!' He gave a wide smite and departed, and Caroline walked backstage slowly, mulling over what she had learned. Although Matthew Bishop was a womaniser, he had had sufficient conscience to make himself responsible for an orphaned twelve-year-old. It would be interesting to see if conscience made him fall for his ward's manoeuvring.

Rehearsals for the dress show went on all morning and it was nearing two o'clock before Caroline and the other models were able to snatch a coffee break and a short rest before getting into their first change of clothes.

Guests had already started to arrive, and the noise of their chatter could be heard backstage, together with the smell of expensive cigars and perfume. There was always a fair sprinkling of men in attendance: husbands or boy-friends of the rich women who made the rounds of the fashion shows and charity affairs in an effort to stave off the emptiness of their lives.

Still, if she had not had to work she might have been one of the so-called idle rich; doing her share of good works between enjoying herself. Yet somehow Caroline doubted it. She had always enjoyed exercising her mind and knew she needed the challenge of a job
to
give purpose to her life.

The sound of the latest hit record started, and she hurried to change into her first outfit, a white silk suit worn over a scarlet blouse. Each girl had a rail behind her with the clothes she was to model, and after each change the designer and hairdresser came over to ensure that their creation had not been disturbed.

As Caroline waited at the side of the stage for the opening bars that would herald her entrance, she cast another quick glance at the audience. Because of the bright lights she could only see those close to the stage, but her attention was caught by a young girl in the second row, who was carrying on an animated conversation with the man beside her. Caroline could not see his face as his head was turned towards his companion, who was exceptionally pretty, with dark hair, cut boyishly short and swept back off her face in feathery layers. Her heart-shaped face with rather pouting lips gave her an air of voluptuousness, which was further confirmed by the outline of her figure, clearly visible in its form-fitting dress.

'You're on!' a voice hissed in Caroline's ear, and making her mind a blank, she glided on to the stage.

To the audience it seemed that no one could be cooler than these beautiful young girls as they paraded the exquisite clothes. But backstage it was a different story. Buttons snapped, hooks and eyes refused to meet, and accessories mysteriously vanished. Tempers rose and exploded as the seamstress made last-minute adjustments, frequently sewing the girls into their dresses.

It was near to bedlam as they all came out dressed for the finale. Caroline with her silver-blonde hair was the ideal choice for the bride, and knew that the floating silk organza dress emphasised the subtle curves of her slender figure.

They paraded to 'A Pretty Girl is Like a Melody', and as they took their last turn and came to a halt, Caroline found herself directly in line with the lovely young girl she had been watching earlier. But this time it was the man who caught her attention, for his dark eyes, marked by heavy brows, seemed to be locked on hers with an intensity that sent an electric current through her. She shivered and had the uncomfortable feeling that he was aware of the effect he was having on her. The girl behind nudged her to move, and she turned and sauntered towards the back of the stage, resisting the urge to pick up her skirts and run. Only as she reached the safety of backstage did she breathe a sigh of relief and try to collect her turbulent thoughts.

Who was the man to whom she had been so instantly attracted? It had been mutual, she was sure, because he had been willing her to catch his eyes.

'Don't stand there dreaming,' someone ordered her. 'I've got to pack that wedding dress.'

With a murmured apology Caroline hastily stepped out of it and into her own dress, then methodically began to wipe off her heavy make-up. She was startled as someone touched her shoulder and looked up to see Rick Henderson.

'Lovely show, darling. You make a beautiful bride. You have that virginal glow that convinces one it's the real thing!' He studied her reaction. 'But then perhaps it is?'

'You'll never know!'

'Keep your cool,' he chuckled. 'I'm about to do you a good turn. Having pumped me for information about Matt Bishop—which I was delighted to give you— I'm now going to give you the chance of meeting him.'

-Caroline wanted to refuse. Matt Bishop—from all she had learned of him—was the type she preferred to avoid. But since she hoped to be working for one of his companies, it might not be diplomatic to turn down Rick's offer.

As soon as she was ready she made her way into the gilded and mirrored ballroom which the hotel staff were starting to clear. She saw the man standing beside Rick and her heart skipped a beat. It was the same one who had been staring at her during the fashion show. Quickly she recovered her composure and walked forward.

'Matt Bishop—Lady Caroline Haveling,' Rick introduced them. 'The only real "lady" in the business!'

'And certainly one of the loveliest.' Matt Bishop's voice was low, with a hint of a Northern accent. 'I've heard about you from Mark Ingle. I believe he's a friend of your brother's, which means I'm in luck.'

'Luck?' she queried.

'That we have a mutual friend.' His tone was slightly mocking. 'Though as your employer-to-be, I feel our meeting would have happened later if not sooner.'

Some of her pleasure died. If he was the sort of man who used his business position to further his personal interests, she would have to make it plain that she would not play along with him.

'Would you care for a drink?' he cut into her thoughts. 'Or would it be old-fashioned of me to suggest tea?'

'I'm an old-fashioned girl,' she said. 'Tea would be lovely.'

'With bread and butter and jam?'

'Of course. I'm starving. I've only had one coffee and a dried-up sandwich all day.'

'I'm only allowing you a small tea,' he warned. 'I don't want to spoil your appetite for dinner tonight.'

Caroline stiffened. The speed of his progress made her nervous. 'What makes you think I'm having dinner with you tonight?'

'Aren't you?'

'No. His cool assumption that she would say yes had annoyed her. 'I've had a hard day. Some other time, perhaps?'

'I won't take no for an answer.' He turned to Rick. 'Any time I can do you a good turn, let me know. I owe you one, sport.' Taking Caroline by the arm, he steered her towards the door.

'Are you always such a fast worker, Mr Bishop?' she enquired.

'Matt, please—and yes, I am. If I see what I like I don't believe in waiting for someone else to beat me to it.'

The hotel lounge was fairly full, mainly with foreign visitors, but at one table sat a group of expensively dressed women, among whom was Penny. Sitting next to her was the stunning girl who had been watching the show with Matt Bishop.

'Caroline ... and Matt ... how lovely to see you,' Penny greeted them both. 'I looked for you when I
came backstage,' she murmured to her friend, 'But I just missed you.'

While Penny was talking, Caroline was aware of being closely watched by the dark-haired girl, and was in no way surprised when Matt Bishop introduced her as his ward, Helen Warner.

Returning Caroline's warm smile with a cold one, the girl immediately addressed herself to Matt.

'I thought you said you had business to discuss with Rick Henderson?'

'I had,' said Matt.

'Then if it's finished you can take me home.'

'I'm having tea with Lady Caroline.'

'I'll wait.'

'There's no need,' he said easily.

Helen stood up. 'I'll meet you back at the flat. Don't forget you said you were taking me to dinner.'

'You misunderstood me,' he said casually. 'What I said was that we'd have dinner together if I were free. But I won't be.'

Before the girl could protest he caught Caroline's arm and steered her towards a table in the corner, and they sat down.

'I must apologise for Helen,' he said. 'She's inclined to be possessive.'

'Maybe she has a reason,' Caroline said innocently.

'
I
have a reason for condoning her behaviour. I was responsible for her parents' death in a plane crash. Not technically,' he added, 'but morally. They hadn't wanted to fly that day, but I insisted.' He half sighed. 'Since then, Helen's looked on me as her father. She's a good kid, and when you get to know her better you'll like her.'

Caroline doubted it. From what she had learned of Helen, the girl's rudeness stemmed from jealousy, and if Matthew Bishop didn't realise it he must be a fool.

The waitress came over to take their order, and as she set the cups and plates down Caroline had a chance to study Matt. He was physically rugged, with wide shoulders, and had difficulty fitting his long legs under the top of the small table. His hair was almost black, and very thick, worn brushed straight back from his high forehead and worn long at the nape of the neck. His nose, in the slim, lightly tanned face, was rather long—aristocratic-looking, she decided, as was the wide but thin-lipped mouth.

'Do I meet with your approval?' he asked.

She flushed. 'You must think me very rude, staring at you like that, but I'm rather inclined to judge people by first impressions.'

'I hope I'm making a good one!'

'I'm sure you're not worried about my opinion.'

'I always worry about the opinions of a beautiful woman.' He paused as their tea was set before them, and then continued, 'You're the first model I've met with a title.'

'I never use it,' she assured him.

'But you will if you and your brother do this job for Mark? The idea would be pointless without it.'

'I agreed to do it as a favour to my brother.'

'What a wonderful sister you are!'

Caroline knew at once that he had thought she was playing hard to get, but because she did not want to go into any explanations about Tom she silently poured the tea and began to eat. Deliberately she made no conversation, and to her surprise neither did he.

Only when she put a large cream pastry on her plate did he speak.

'Now that you're not as hungry I hope you're in a more responsive mood.'

'I'm always like this,' she said sweetly.

'Have some more sugar, then.'

She couldn't help a smile, and instantly Matt returned it.

'That's better,' he said. 'Now perhaps you'll have dinner with me.'