Betrayal (37 page)

'Is very cold. Brrr!' He pretended to shiver.

'It's certainly brrr! Now, I must set off for my dinner party.' 'Are you taking a pretty lady?'

'No, but I'm going to see one.'

'I like pretty ladies who smell nice.'

Perhaps he'd grow up all right! thought Renato with a smile. He picked the boy up, kissed him warmly and then rang for the nurse. He wondered what Neal and Lisa's son was like, and what kind of a character he would develop in the next four years. Somehow he doubted if he'd be quite as gentle as Luciano.

While he was packing, Lisa was making herself as attractive as possible for Neal's return. She knew that she was deliberately trying to get him on her side before the housekeeper complained and despised herself for it, but since this was the best way to handle Neal it was only sensible to take advantage of her slight power over him. Certainly when he arrived and found her waiting in the front porch, wearing tight fitting slacks and a low-necked angora top, the weariness vanished from his face and he put his arms tightly round her. 'You smell delicious!' he murmured.

'Let's go upstairs,' she responded. 'I want to show you some of the clothes I bought yesterday.'

Mrs Sutton came briskly out of the kitchen area. 'I wonder if I might have a word with you, Mr Gueras?'

'Later,' he said brusquely. 'I've only just arrived home.' 'Couldn't wait to get her into bed!' the housekeeper reported indignantly to the cook. 'After all these years of looking after the house, he behaved as though I was some new maid.'

In their bedroom, Lisa was modeling underwear she'd bought from a shop off New Bond Street specialising in La Perla, the Italian lingerie.

It was too much for Neal, and when she smiled agreement at the unspoken question in his eyes he immediately stripped off and pulled her down on top of him, his hands rapidly unclasping the sheer satin bra that concealed very little indeed, and then his mouth was on her breasts and to his surprise she was actually sitting astride him, far more the aggressor than ever before.

Much later he left her lying resting in bed and went down to the study to make some urgent phone calls before getting ready for dinner. It looked as though Lisa was now recovered from childbirth and he was delighted with her, although irritatingly aware that he still failed to bring her to a true climax.

After his calls he remembered Mrs Sutton and rang the bell for her. She was there at once, hands clenched in front of her. 'Is there some problem about tonight?' he asked, privately wondering when she was going to accept that it was to Lisa she should now address all her queries. 'No, sir. I thought you ought to know that the late Mrs Gueras's drawing-room has been turned into a second dining-room. Rebekah was having tea there yesterday.'

'On her own?'

'No, your… wife was with her.' The pause was infinitesimal but Neal heard it and his eyes hardened.

'In that case I fail to see how it concerns you. If my wife chooses to take meals in the hall, she's entitled to do so! I expect all the staff to respect her wishes as they respected my first wife's.'

'But… '

'Naomi is dead,' he said coldly. 'Much as you may regret this fact it cannot be altered. If you feel unable to continue as housekeeper, I'm sure I could make other arrangements for you.'

Not another post, she noticed with alarm, other arrangements. It sounded ominous. 'I'm very happy here, sir,' she said quickly. 'However, your wife seems to feel that I don't suit her.'

'Then I suggest that you learn to suit her, otherwise other arrangements will have to be made whether you wish it or not.'

Mrs Sutton had seen many things, heard many secrets and been paid handsomely both for her skill at her job and her utter discretion. All of that plainly counted for nothing when balanced against the attractions of a new wife who'd had the good fortune to produce a male child at her first attempt. She was almost incoherent with fury, but knew better than to show it. Either she swallowed her pride and bent to Lisa's will or the alternative didn't bear thinking about.

'I'll do my best,' she responded .

'I'm sure you will. I think we understand each other very well.'

After she'd gone he gave a sigh. The last thing he'd thought about when taking Lisa as his wife was domestic trouble. He'd underestimated the average unattractive, middle-aged spinster's antipathy towards such a vivacious and healthy new mistress after years of Naomi's reign. Well, if Kay and Naomi could die, one unattached housekeeper wouldn't prove any trouble. It was surprising how very easy successive thoughts of murder became.

After he'd changed for dinner he went into Lisa's dressing room to fill her in on their guests. She was wearing a full-length skirt of plum-coloured velvet with a high-necked white blouse whose puritan appearance was at odds with that elusive hint of submerged sensuality that Neal was still striving in vain to release in her.

'Has Mrs Sutton seen you yet?' His voice was casual.

'She seemed to think you weren't satisfied with her performance.' 'She gave an excellent performance of a modern-day Mrs Danvers last night! I think she expected me to end up begging forgiveness for taking tea in what I'd failed to realise was Naomi's quiet room.' 'No doubt you made her mistake plain!'

'Not plain enough if she complained to you. Can't we get rid of her? She'll never like me.'

'We can get rid of her,' he said slowly, 'but I'm not quite sure what kind of a reference I'd be able to give.'

'Why on earth not? Naomi was very pleased with all she did, surely that's enough?'

'I dislike staff changes. I don't relish the thought of members of my household moving on and gossiping about anything they may have seen or heard while working here.'

'Because of Naomi's drinking? Now she's dead surely that doesn't matter?'

'It isn't only that. There are things… ' He deliberately didn't finish his sentence but their eyes met in the dressing table mirror .

'You mean you'd prefer her to retire rather than take on a new job?'

'You could put it that way.' 'Can she afford to retire?'

'I'm sure I can find her somewhere cheap to live,' he said pleasantly. Instantly, for no logical reason, Lisa had a vision of a churchyard full of old grey headstones with one fresh white one, its lettering clear and unweathered.

'Perhaps it's only fair to give her a little longer to get used to me,' she said at last.

'That's very good of you, darling. Now, if you've finished doing your hair, I thought we should go through the guest list together.' All that Lisa took in was that Renato Bellini was going to be present.

Since the dinner party was informal the men wore lounge suits and the women cocktail dresses. It constantly amazed Lisa that the wealthier women became, the more they seemed to dress in a uniform of black cocktail dresses, silver or gold ball gowns and autumnal shades of brown for their casual wear. Presumably all the dresses had different designer labels on them but they were so similar in appearance they could easily have been bought from a chain store. It was the same with their shoes and hairstyles.

Glancing round the table she reflected that if the women played musical chairs, when the music finally stopped most of the men present would be hard-pressed to know if they'd ended up with the same wife or not. She felt strangely disconcerted by the thought.

The food was good—nothing less would have been tolerated—but scarcely exciting, catering as it did for the low-salt, lean-meat, health-conscious businessmen. Personally she found eating steamed broccoli an excellent example of something which might not make you live longer but would certainly make you feel you had.

The talk flowed around her and she knew that she must be responding properly because now and again Neal would beam down the table at her and she would smile back , well aware that he wanted the guests to see them as a perfect couple. The only incident of interest had occurred when Bishop arrived with Carol. Admittedly he wasn't unattractive and Carol might also have been interested in seeing Lisa's Berkshire home, but considering their conversation only the day before it was still surprising to see them together.

Renato Bellini had come alone. This had ruined the seating arrangements and disconcerted Neal but Lisa was pleased. She only wished he was sitting nearer her. However, he was at Neal's end of the table and deep in conversation with the man opposite him.

After a dessert of fresh fruit salad topped by meringue and cream, Lisa suddenly saw the door at the far end of the room swing slowly open, and to her horror, Jessica's head appeared round it, wide-eyed with surprise.

That morning's therapy had been the same as the previous day's, a quieter but still miserable hour for both of them. Now, to see her daughter walking into a room full of strangers, was as astonishing as it was unwelcome. Neal had his back to Jessica; the first that he knew of her presence was when the woman on his left said, 'What a beautiful little girl,' and his head swung sharply round because he knew very well that she couldn't mean Rebekah.

Slowly, Lisa stood up and began walking quietly round the table towards her daughter. Jessica was now gazing round the room, her eyes flickering from one object to another but never settling on any of the guests. Then she held out the skirts of her white cotton Victorian nightdress and began to sing. Again it was her favourite aria from Tosca and everyone remained riveted to their seats. Even Lisa, standing frozen half-way down the room, was deeply touched by the purity of her daughter's voice.

When the aria ended, Jessica glanced round her again. She would probably have been all right if some of the guests hadn't taken it into their heads to applaud her singing. The sudden shattering of the silence jolted her into awareness of people, and then they began to call out to her: urging her to sing again; asking her to sit on their laps. People with loud voices intruding into her secret happiness.

At once she changed—from a beautiful, almost enchanted child into a terrified animal, yelling at the top of her no longer musical voice and hurling herself round the room, hitting her head against walls and furniture in her fear. Grabbing a priceless porcelain figure of a clown she threw it to the ground, where it smashed to pieces in the marble hearth. The noise delighted her so she immediately seized a gold carriage clock and hurled that on to the marble as well.

With a roar of fury, Neal leapt to his feet. 'Stop that at once, you wicked girl! Stop it, do you hear me?' And he reached out for the tiny figure.

'Don't!' cried Lisa. 'Leave her alone, you're frightening her.'

Jessica whimpered and sank on to all fours, scrabbling around on the carpet, searching for a corner in which to hide. Failing that, she grabbed her nightdress and pulled the skirt up over her head. Then, feeling slightly safer, she started screaming again.

Unable to contain himself, Neal took two steps across the room and lifted his stepdaughter off the ground with his left hand as he swung his right hand back to strike her. Lisa's screams halted him for a brief second, and in that short space of time Renato Bellini had sprung from his chair and was level with Neal. Without a word, he grasped Jessica firmly round the waist and pulled her away from her step-father's grasp, before handing her carefully back to her terrified mother.

Lisa was so near to tears she couldn't even thank him. All she could do was wrap her arms round her daughter and run from the room with her, murmuring softly as she went, trying to ease the rigidity of the child's body.

In the dining-room everyone was silent. Bellini sat down in his chair and immediately recommenced his conversation with the man opposite. Taking their cue from him, all the guests promptly started to talk again, not daring to look at their host who was staring at the shattered remains of the clock and the clown and whose face was set in such an expression of fury that Carol, one of the few women in a position to see him, actually felt afraid for Lisa and her daughter.

'Enchanting little thing, isn't she?' said Bishop sardonically. 'I hadn't realised Lisa's influence was so great that Jessica was now compulsory viewing for visitors!'

'Don't be so vile!' snapped Carol. 'That poor little girl must have been out of her mind with fear.'

'She's out of her mind, all right.' 'She's so pretty too.'

'I don't think that compensates for her mental defects. If Neal's got any sense he'll have her put away after this, and a bloody good job too.'.

'You've obviously got a keen understanding of the mentally handicapped,' said Carol, wishing she'd never been talked into keeping Bishop company tonight.

He gave her a long, appraising look. 'Very spirited. Let's hope you don't disappoint me later on.'

'I don't intend to give you any opportunity to be disappointed .'

Just then Neal returned to the table, his smiling, courteous mask firmly back in place. 'I apologise for my step-daughter. She isn't responsible for her actions and doesn't normally come into this part of the house. I do hope no one was too distressed.'

Bellini watched a small muscle jumping in the corner of Neal's jaw and knew that Lisa was going to pay for what had happened. He pictured the look of anguish on her face as she took Jessica from him, and for the first time he actually hated Neal Gueras.

It was a good twenty minutes before Lisa returned and by then Neal was waiting impatiently for the women to leave the room. Bellini noticed with interest that Gueras now had himself well under control, going over to his wife, putting an arm gently round her shoulders. He also noticed how tense she was and that her automatic reaction, quickly smothered, was to draw away.

'Is Jessica better now, darling?' Neal asked courteously. Lisa nodded. 'Good! Perhaps… '

She stared blankly at him and the mask slipped slightly. 'The other room!' he hissed.

For a second, Bellini thought she was going to walk out again, but then she made a tremendous effort and gave a brief nod. 'Shall we go into the drawing-room, ladies?' she suggested quietly, and they went far more rapidly than usual. Doubtless hoping, thought the Italian cynically, that the unfortunate Lisa would give them intimate details about her tragic child.