conned Si into thinking he's Mister Nice Guy, he's got a fight on his
hands with me.
'Why, Miss Jo, you look really fierce. Whatever are you thinking
about?' queried Nanny.
'Getting up.' Joanna swallowed the rest of her tea, and threw back the
duvet. 'I think I'll have breakfast with my father.' She paused. 'How is
he today?'
'He's taking an interest in the cricket, according to Gresham.' Nanny's
face was expressionless. 'Reckonsthey should bring back Len Hutton
as England captain.'
Joanna sighed. 'Maybe they should at that.' She shot a glance at the
older woman. 'Nanny, we're having a—visitor this afternoon, and I'd
prefer if Dad knew nothing about it. I don't want him to be upset,
especially if he's not—thinking too clearly.' She put on her robe and
knotted the sash.
Nanny nodded. 'Gresham won't say owt, and I can stop Mrs
Thursgood nattering. But am I to know who's expected?'
Joanna hesitated. 'It's Callum Blackstone.'
'A Blackstone crossing this doorstep?' Nanny gasped. 'I never thought
I'd live to see the day!'
'Neither did I.' Joanna bit her lip. 'Believe me, Nanny, if I had a
choice, I wouldn't let him within a mile of the place. But it's out of my
hands.'
Nanny shook her head. 'Then you'll have to make the best of it, lass.
Like the old saying, "Needs must when the devil drives."'
And that, Joanna thought wryly, as she made her way to the
bathroom, seemed to sum the situation up with total accuracy.
Shrouded by the curtains at the long upstairs landing window, she
watched him arrive. He was punctual, She noted without surprise.
The Jaguar car he parked in front of the house—staking his claim at
once, she thought bitterly—was the latest model. Nothing else had.
changed. He looked no older, no greyer, no heavier as he stood on the
gravel below her, his gaze raking the blank windows as though he
sensed her presence, and sought her.
Although she knew she couldn't be seen, Joanna felt herself shrink.
Oh, come on, she castigated herself. This is no way to start. After all,
I know what he's planning, so there must be some way I can stop him.
But, for the life of her, she couldn't think of one.
As she heard the doorbell peal, she went on swift and silent feet back
to her room, and waited for Mrs Thursgood to admit him.
She gave herself a long, critical 190k in the mirror. Her slim navy
linen skirt, and the pure silk cream shirt she wore with it, looked neat
and uncompromisingly businesslike. She'd drawn her hair severely
back from her face and confined it at the nape of her neck with a wide
navy ribbon.
She'd had plenty of time to prepare for this confrontation. Simon had
phoned mid-morning to tell her that Fiona was being kept in for
observation, at her own insistence.
'She's a bit fraught, Jo.' He'd sounded thoroughly miserable. 'Hit the
roof when I suggested pushing off.' He'd paused. 'I feel an absolute
worm about this. Do you think you can cope with Blackstone—feed
him some story or other to keep him off for a while?'
'I can try,' she'd said wearily. 'Cheer up, Si. I hope Fiona feels better
soon.'
Now Mrs Thursgood was tapping at her door. 'Your visitor's come,
madam. I've put him in't drawing- room.'
Joanna counted to ten, breathing deeply, then walked sedately along
the broad landing and down the stairs. She didn't hesitate at the
drawing-room door, but went straight in, closing it behind her.
He was standing on the rug in front of the empty fireplace, studying
her grandfather's portrait. At the sound of her entry, he turned, the
grey eyes skimming over her, missing nothing.
'Good afternoon, Mrs Bentham.' The cool laconic voice grated on her.
'A historic moment, wouldn't you say?'
'Hardly a giant step for mankind, Mr Blackstone,' she returned with
equal insouciance. 'Perhaps you'd like to state your business.'
'I'm sure your brother's informed you of the changes that have taken
place during your—period of mourning.'
Joanna shrugged. 'I understand you now have a financial interest in
the Craft Company.'
'It's more than that. As far as money's concerned, I am the Craft
Company.' He glanced round. 'May I sit down?'
'If you wish.' She pretended faintly surprised amusement. 'Is this
going to be a long interview? I do have other plans...'
'Then cancel them,' he said pleasantly, seating himself on the sofa. 'I'd
prefer your undivided attention.' He leaned back, crossing his long
legs. 'I gather Simon will not be joining us.' - She hesitated. 'His wife
isn't very well.'
'I'm sorry to hear it.' He didn't sound even slightly regretful. 'She must
take after her mother. She's thoroughly enjoyed very poor health for
years. Apparently medical science is baffled.'
He'd captured the lady's martyred tones with wicked accuracy. To her
annoyance, Joanna discovered an unwilling giggle welling up inside
her, and hastily turned it into a cough.
'Can we get back to the business in hand, please?' She took the
armchair opposite to him. 'I suppose you want to know when you'll
see some tangible return on your investment.'
'No,' he said. 'I'm prepared to bide my time on that. There are other far
more pressing matters between Simon and myself.' He reached into
the inside pocket of his jacket and extracted a small sheaf of papers,
held together by an elastic band. He tossed them on to the low oak
coffee-table between them. 'Do you know what these are?'
Her brows snapped together. 'How could I?'
'Then I suggest you take a look.'
Reluctantly she reached for the papers, and removed the band. As she
studied them, her frown deepened.
'I don't understand.'
'You're not a fool, Joanna,' he said quietly. 'You know as well as I do
that those are IOUs, and that the signature on them is Simon's.
They're gambling debts that he ran up at the country club.'
Her mouth was dry suddenly. She'd been doing addition sums in her
head as she riffled through them, and the total she'd reached was
horrifying, and still incomplete.
She said, 'Gambling? But Si doesn't gamble.'
'He certainly doesn't gamble well. He's lost consistently at poker,
blackjack and roulette. He's exceeded the house limit for credit more
than once as well, and used my name to get more. I've had to bar him
from the gaming-rooms.' He saw the colour drainfrom her face, and
smiled sardonically. 'I presume this is news to you.'
She said thickly, 'You know it is.'
'Then I may as well add that he's in hock to a bookie in Leeds for
several thousand.'
She dropped the papers back on the table with an expression of
distaste. 'You're very well informed.'
'I find it pays to be.'
'Yet it's hardly ethical. Neither is your presence here this afternoon.
These—debts should be a private, matter between Simon and
yourself, surely. You have no right to involve me.'
'Sometimes private matters have a tiresome habit of becoming
incredibly public.' He seemed impervious to the ice in her tone. 'And
then you'd find yourself involved right up to the hilt, my dear Mrs
Bentham. For instance, I could insist on having a spot audit made at
the Craft Company.'
The words hung in the air between them, challenging her.
She swallowed. 'And what would that prove, pray?'
'Perhaps nothing. But I'm afraid—I'm very much afraid that there
would be certain sums unaccounted for. Simon had to find his stake
money from somewhere, after all.'
'I don't believe you. In fact, I don't believe any of this.' She flicked the
IOUs with a contemptuous finger. 'If Simon had known you were
going to raise any of these matters this afternoon, he would have been
here in person. He thought you were coming to discuss the Craft
Company, and only that. Therefore he obviously has no guilty
conscience...'
'A true Chalfont! Your grandfather had no conscience either. It's a
pity Simon hasn't inherited his strength as well.'
Joanna got to her feet. 'I think you'd better leave.'
'When I'm good and ready,' he retorted, making no attempt to move.
'Sit down, Joanna, and hear me out. Simon had good reason for
failing to realise I was about to call in his markers.'
She didn't want to hear any more. Her mind was reeling, blanking out
with sheer incredulity. Simon gambling, she thought with horror.
Losing thousands he didn't possess and couldn't repay. What in the
world could possibly have started him on such a course to disaster?
As if, she thought, I didn't know.
She lifted her head and stared at their enemy. Steadying her voice, she
asked, 'What good reason?'
'I promised I'd give him time, so he assumed he was safe.'
'And what made you change your mind?'
'You did,' he said softly. 'You came home again, Joanna. And that
altered everything.'
'I fail to see why.' Her tone was defiant, but alarm bells were sounding
all over her nervous system.
He smiled at her. 'Oh, no, beauty, you haven't that poor a memory.
You put yourself temporarily out of reach when you married Martin
Bentham, but that's all. And that's over. Yoti knew it the day of the
poor bastard's funeral. Was that why you fled to the States?'
She drew a sharp, painful breath. 'How dare you?'
'I dare quite easily,' he said. 'After all, I've waited longer for you than
for anything else in my life, Joanna, and, frankly, I'm beginning to run
out of patience.'
'How unfortunate for you.' She invested her voice with all the scorn
she could muster. 'But I'm afraid you're destined to go on waiting for
a very long time. For eternity, in fact.'
Cal shook his head. 'No, sweetheart. You're not thinking clearly.' He
pointed to the IOUs on the table between them. 'As you so rightly
said, these should have remained a private matter between Simon and
myself. But in a war you use whatever weapons are available, if you
want to win. And I intend nothing less than total victory.'
Joanna's hands clenched into fists. 'I'll see you in hell --'
'And we'll both see your brother in the bankruptcy court,' he
interrupted harshly. 'I'll do it if I have to, Joanna, and there isn't a soul
in the world who would blame me. He's behaved like a incompetent
in his business life, and a reckless fool privately. He should be
stopped sharply and permanently before he drags himself, and
everyone involved with him, any deeper into the mire.'
He paused. 'On the other hand, the threat of it may be enough to shock
him to his senses, and impending fatherhood may keep him there.'
'What do you care?' she asked bitterly. 'You helped push him into this
mess. You've used him and manipulated him all along the line for
your own disgusting purposes...'
His mouth twisted. 'Have I? Then the more fool Simon for letting me,
wouldn't you say?'
'He's no match for you—he never was. He didn't realise what he was
getting into.'
Cal tutted. 'You mean you didn't try to warn him? How very remiss of
you!'
'Of course I tried,' she said with angry weariness. 'But he wouldn't
listen, and it was too late anyway. He'd already handed the Craft
Company to you on a platter, the naive, trusting idiot. He thought
your offer of help meant that the feud between us was over.'
'And so it will be soon,' he said softly. 'Every wrong righted, every
debt paid in full. The wheel come full circle. A very satisfying state of
affairs.'
'You're unbelievable!' Her voice shook. 'How can these old quarrels
still matter after all this time?'
He smiled. 'My grandfather always said revenge was a dish best eaten
cold.'
'I find that a nauseating idea.'
'Is that going to be your new refuge—self- righteousness?' He
sounded amused. 'It won't cut any ice with me.'
'I'm sure it won't.' She put up a hand in a revealingly nervous gesture,
and smoothed her hair back over her ear. 'I suppose you're here to
discuss your terms. I can't say when Simon will be available --'
'He doesn't need to be.' The grey eyes glinted up at her. 'As you're
already well aware, the settlement I have in mind involves just the
two of us—you and me. And I suggest, once again, that you sit down.'
She said thickly, 'I prefer to stand. Say what you have to say, and go.'
He shrugged, and rose to his feet in one lithe, controlled movement.
Like some jungle animal, she thought, flinching inwardly, flexing
itself before the kill.
'I told you my terms two years ago, Joanna. They haven't changed. I
want you.' He looked at her levelly. 'Come to me and I'll write off