Destiny Unleashed (7 page)

“Outside the box,” he echoed weakly. “I’ll do my best.”

Destiny beamed at him. “I knew you would. Now, let’s get busy. As you said, we don’t have much time if we intend to pull this off. If worse comes to worst, we’ll simply buy the tea at the market and pay full price until we can arrange for a wholesale delivery.”

An hour later, Destiny had done her part. She’d scheduled the advertising in several papers, spoken to Jameson’s manager—a bright young woman who was refreshingly eager to try something innovative—and Destiny had ordered some simple but elegant china cups to be delivered before the end of the day.

Satisfied with her morning’s work, she picked up the phone and dialed William’s number.

“It’s not going to work, you know,” she said cheerfully when he got on the line.

He laughed. “Is that so? I understand people are coming into our stores in droves today. Best holiday business we’ve done in years.”

“Then I suppose you should thank me. Obviously it took a bit of a challenge from me to get you out of your stodgy ways.”

“Thank you,” he said dutifully.

“I hope you enjoy today’s success,” she said. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

“Oh? What have you got up your sleeve now, Destiny?”

“Something rather clever, if I do say so myself.”

“No hints?”

“No. I don’t want to give you enough time to try to counter my strategy. You’ll see in the morning. Hope it doesn’t spoil your breakfast.”

“Why not join me and you can judge my reaction for yourself?” he suggested.

Destiny considered the invitation and decided it might be fun to watch William’s face when he realized she was after not just one of his key businesses, but two of them now. Maybe that would be enough to convince him to stay away from Carlton Industries projects.

“A triumph might be just the thing to whet my appetite,” she said. “Will seven be too early? I like to be in the office early.”

“Seven will be fine. Where shall we go?”

“Your choice. After so many years away, I don’t know London as well as you do.”

He suggested a small restaurant in her neighborhood.

“That will be perfect,” she said at once. “And William, don’t spoil this for me by looking at your morning paper before you come.”

He laughed. “I promise. Shall I bring one with me?”

“If you wish.”

“Any particular paper?”

“No, any paper will do.”

“Gone all out, have you?”

“And then some,” she assured him breezily. “After all, when you’re doing something brilliant, you want everyone to know about it.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone more serious.

“Actually I’m having the time of my life,” she agreed. “And in a way, I have you to thank.”

“How so?”

She considered her response thoughtfully. From the moment this plan of hers to compete with William and save her family business had been formulated months and months ago, she’d been making new discoveries about herself and her abilities. To realize that she’d had hidden talents all these years was remarkable at her age. She was thriving on the excitement and challenge. She woke up each morning eager to begin the day. Since Ben’s marriage, she’d been far too bored. It wasn’t a state that was good for anyone, especially someone with her energy.

“Intentional or not, you provided the incentive for me to get into business,” she said eventually. “Until now, I’d had no idea how much fun it could be. No wonder my grandfather, father and brother loved it so much.”

“And your nephew? Does Richard love it, too?”

“Of course. He also loves to win. And just so you know, that’s a trait we share.”

“Warning duly noted,” he said solemnly. “But just so
you
know, I don’t intend to lose.”

He’d hung up before she could come up with an adequate response to his very confident declaration. Just as well, Destiny concluded. Maybe by morning when she saw him, she’d have one.

William strolled to the restaurant in the morning, eager to get on with things with Destiny. Whatever plot she had up her sleeve wasn’t nearly as important to him as the fact that she’d agreed to meet him for
breakfast. He remembered a time when they’d shared rich coffee, croissants and fresh fruit every morning at a sidewalk café near the sea. They’d lingered long after their food was gone, caught up in some lively debate or another to the amusement of the waiters.

They’d rarely agreed on anything, not art, certainly, nor books or films or world affairs. Even when they had, William had always taken an opposing point of view just to see the quick rise of color in Destiny’s cheeks and the fire in her eyes. She’d never ceased to enchant him with her lively mind and tart tongue. And everyone at their favorite restaurant had enjoyed their passionate exchanges as if they were witnesses to some sort of live theater.

William could already tell that in that regard, at least, she hadn’t changed. There was still nothing she enjoyed more than a good battle of wits.

When he walked into the restaurant, she was already waiting for him, engaged in a conversation with the waiter, whom she’d clearly charmed.

“Ah, here is my guest now,” she said when she spotted him.

William bent down and kissed her cheek, then grinned at the waiter. “Nice to see you, George. And just so there’s no mistake, Ms. Carlton is my guest this morning.”

Destiny began to protest, but George nodded. “As you wish, sir.”

William sat down as George went off to get his coffee. “It pays to know the staff,” he told Destiny. “And you need to know that not everything is going to go your way this morning.”

She gave him a serene smile. “Then I shall give in
gracefully on that point, since everything else is so obviously going to go my way.” She glanced pointedly at the paper he was carrying. “Have you looked?”

“I told you I wouldn’t. Shall I scan through it now?”

“Perhaps we should wait till after you’ve eaten. I’d hate to spoil your breakfast.”

“I doubt whatever scheme you’ve come up with is going to destroy my appetite, despite your very apparent hope for that.” In fact, he found her eagerness delightful.

“Then by all means, have a look,” she said. “I think the ad turned out rather well. It’s on page—”

William cut her off before she could say it. “The only way to judge an ad’s true effectiveness is to see if it catches a person’s attention, don’t you think? Let me put yours to that test.”

He opened the paper and slowly turned the pages. It didn’t take long for the ad to pop out at him with its picture of a stack of books topped by a steaming cup of tea. Tea, dammit! He recognized the ploy at once, even before he read the details. She was going after two businesses now, no more than an annoyance in either case, but clever, just the same. She was good at this, better than he’d expected, in fact. It would keep things between them lively, no question about it.

He worked to keep his expression neutral as he lowered the paper and faced her expectant look. “You’re going into the tea business now?”

“As an experiment,” she said happily. “If it’s as successful as I anticipate, then it could make quite a nice expansion for Jameson’s, don’t you agree? We’ll
provide a lovely, cozy place for people to enjoy a good book and a refreshing cup of tea. I can see it becoming a gathering place for those who love literature.”

“You’ll never know for sure, if you begin by giving the stuff away,” he said more testily than he’d meant to.

“But it’s the perfect way to get people to form a habit that will bring them back into the store,” she said. “Just as cutting the cost of your books is something I’m sure you have no intention of sustaining forever.”

“Not necessarily,” William said. “If it’s successful, we’ll certainly keep it going after the New Year, and based on yesterday’s sales, I’d have to say it looks like a winner.”

“Perhaps you should wait till you see how things go today,” Destiny responded.

He heard the challenge in her voice and looked into her flashing eyes. “We can always walk over to one of the shops after breakfast and you can see for yourself,” he countered. “We’re opening at eight so people can shop on their way to work.”

She paled a bit at that, but rallied quickly. “What a marvelous idea!”

He bit back a grin. “I imagine you’ll be opening at seven starting tomorrow.”

“No need,” she said at once. “We believe most people would rather shop on their lunch hours or after work, so we’ve added more extended hours till Christmas. Wander by on your way home tonight and see for yourself how successful it is. Our customers have been wildly enthusiastic, and now that they’ll be able
to get a cup of tea and perhaps a bite to eat, as well, I’m sure it will go over better than before.”

William regarded her with new respect. “You really do have a knack for this sort of thing, don’t you?”

“I like to think I come by it naturally,” she said.

“Have you worked for Carlton Industries all these years?”

“Heavens, no,” she said at once. “Raising Richard, Mack and Ben was more than enough to keep me occupied. Now, though, I’m eager for new challenges.”

“It wouldn’t have been enough for you to take up your painting again?” he asked.

For an instant, he thought he detected a trace of sadness in her eyes, but she shook her head.

“I haven’t picked up a brush in years except to dabble a bit,” she said.

“You can’t be serious!” he said, genuinely taken aback by that. “Your art always meant so much to you.”

“It was part of the life I gave up when I went home,” she told him. “There was no room for that kind of self-indulgence once I became a surrogate mother to those boys. That was a full-time job. They required all of my attention to make up at least a little for what they’d lost.”

“Oh, Destiny, I’m so sorry,” he said with total sincerity. It made his heart ache to think that she’d felt the need to give up something that had once brought her joy. “I should have been there to help.”

Her gaze met his. “But you weren’t,” she said quietly. “So I had to do what was necessary on my own.”

There was no hint of self-pity in her voice. Indeed, what he heard was the kind of strength and determination that must have gotten her through the turmoil of those days when her life had been turned upside down. His admiration for her grew.

“You’re a remarkable woman,” he told her quietly. “But then I always knew that.”

She frowned at that. “Did you really?”

“Well, of course I did,” he said, surprised that she needed to ask. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because you let me go,” she said, her eyes filled with emotion. Then she looked away, and when she turned back, her face was as expressionless as if they’d been discussing the weather. “Well, that’s neither here nor there.”

“Destiny, please, let me explain,” he began. They’d each played a role in the way things had turned out. The fault wasn’t only his, though he bore the lion’s share of it. That made it his duty to set things right between them.

“There’s nothing to explain,” she said curtly. “We can’t change the past. Rehashing it is a waste of time. I made a choice back then. So did you. All either of us can do is live with the decisions we made.”

“But I want you to understand,” he said, feeling helpless and frustrated because he knew that no matter what he said, no matter how sincere the explanation he offered, it would never be enough to change what had happened.

She looked him in the eye, her own gaze steady and unyielding. “I do understand,” she said quietly. “I really do, William. I just can’t forgive you.”

D
estiny’s declaration lingered in William’s head long after they’d parted. Her insistence that she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—forgive him had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. The woman had a stubborn streak, and if she’d made up her mind to keep him at arm’s length, it was going to take a monumental effort to change that.

Years ago, he’d been daunted by her stubbornness. He’d given up in the face of her silence, rather than fighting for her. He didn’t intend to make that mistake again. The keys to a successful campaign were going to be seeing her often, surprising her frequently and never again letting her think for an instant that she wasn’t the most important person in his life.

En route to his office, he stopped by a florist’s and picked up an enormous bouquet of red poppies. On the card, he wrote, “When you see these, think of me and summer in Provence. William.”

When he reached his office, he gave the flowers to Malcolm and asked him to personally deliver them to Destiny. “I know I could have had the florist do it, but I wanted to get your impression of things over there. You’ll be able to tell me if everyone’s in a frenzy now that she’s shaking things up.”

“I’ll see what I can discover, sir. Anything else?”

“No. That will be all. I’m taking the rest of the day off. Why don’t you do the same? Finish up your Christmas shopping. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

Malcolm nodded. “I do have a few last-minute holiday purchases to make. Thank you, sir.”

Satisfied with his morning’s work, William set out to do a little Christmas shopping of his own. He’d already bought gifts for family members, staff and friends. Destiny was the only person left on his list. It was essential that he find the perfect present, something that would be a constant reminder of the past, as well as a hint of how enduring his love had been. It was a lot to expect from one little gift, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d relied on a present to say what he hadn’t been able to put into words. He’d often done it in those blissful years when she’d kept him tongue-tied.

Provence, 1982

William had never been so totally beguiled by a woman. He’d been with Destiny for more than a year now and he was still enchanted. She was like the sunset, reliable, yet ever-changing, always magnificent.

He’d ignored all of the entreaties from back home to return to London and take over at the helm of the family’s businesses. His father’s health was good. There was no reason for him to give up the reins at Harcourt & Sons, and William would never have been content as second fiddle.

In fact, he was more than content right here, in an odd little stone farmhouse with few amenities. His basic needs were being met, which didn’t seem nearly
as important as the fact that his heart was overflowing with unexpected joy. He’d tried to explain that to his father over the phone just the week before.

“You must know,” he told his father. “You and Mother have been together for years. Surely you understand what it’s like to wake up each morning with the one person you were meant to spend the rest of your life with.”

His father’s dry bark of laughter had surprised him. “Is that what you think? Your mother and I are together because we were a suitable match. It’s worked out well enough and it resulted in you, but if you’re caught up in some crazy idea that there’s romance involved, you’re wrong. Harcourts are driven by duty, not impulse.”

William had been shocked and more than a little dismayed. “If that’s so, then I’m sorry for you both,” he’d told his father. “But I can’t live that way.”

“I’ll cut you off,” his father had threatened.

“Do whatever you feel is necessary,” William told him. “I’ll manage.”

“How? Will you live on this woman’s charity?”

“Absolutely not,” William replied fiercely. “I’m not without contacts and resources of my own.”

“Then I suggest you make use of them,” his father had declared bitterly, clearly infuriated with William’s refusal to comply with his wishes. It was a power struggle they’d been engaged in for years.

“You’ll not get another tuppence from me,” he warned.

“As you wish,” William said quietly.

Despite his calm tone, William had been shaking
with outrage when he’d hung up. He’d turned and found Destiny watching him, worry etched on her brow.

“Oh, William, you can’t cut yourself off from your family like that,” she said sorrowfully. “It’s wrong. I won’t be responsible for it.”

“You’ve cut yourself off from your family,” he reminded her.

“Not like that. Not forever.”

“Darling, don’t worry. We’ll mend fences eventually,” he assured her. “It’s not the first time we’ve fought. Nor is it likely to be the last. For a stuffy pair, Father and I can be quite volatile from time to time.” He changed the subject, refusing to dwell on the bitter exchange. “Now, what shall we do to celebrate your birthday? Do you want a party? A trip to Paris?”

“I don’t need anything,” Destiny said.

William frowned at her. “Is that because you think you’ve just cost me all my money?”

“Well, haven’t I?”

“Hardly. But even if you had, I’d find a way to make your birthday special.”

“But I really don’t need anything,” she repeated. “Just you.”

“That you have, always,” he promised her.

She smiled at him, but there was no mistaking the worry shadowing her eyes. She was afraid for him, afraid of the price he was paying to be with her. He could see that she feared one day he’d wind up resenting her, but that would never happen, not when she was the best thing to ever come into his life.

That afternoon, when the hot summer sun was beating down and Destiny was napping in the shade in the garden, he slipped into town and used the phone at
their favorite restaurant to make arrangements for a surprise party the following night. Nearly everyone in the small village was invited, invitations spreading by word of mouth after those first few strategic calls.

When he’d made all the arrangements, he went shopping for something that would prove to Destiny how much he loved her. It wasn’t easy finding something in such a small town, but it seemed everyone he spoke with had a suggestion. Destiny had made herself a vital part of this community during her time here, and they all loved her as much as he did.

Nothing he came across seemed exactly right. Not the jewelry. Not the glamorous beachwear. Her studio was already stuffed with books. The counters overflowed with art supplies. She was not the sort of woman who prized material possessions, anyway. Her life was built around her painting, her friends and him, and made more enjoyable by simple, delicious food and good wine.

He finally returned to the little café where the party was to be held and sat at one of the outside tables.

“No purchases?” François asked, regarding him worriedly.

William shook his head dejectedly.

“She is a woman who requires something from the heart, something lasting,” François said.

William agreed. “But what?”

“Perhaps I should not speak so plainly, but is money an issue?”

“No.” William had enough to manage something extravagant in spite of his father’s threats.

“You know she has been teaching art classes for the children here,
n’est-ce pas?
”

William nodded.

“There is not sufficient room in her studio for all who want to attend. It seems everyone who adores Mademoiselle Destiny would like to be an artist now. Not that so many have talent, but a few do, and even the others enjoy themselves. All over town there are paintings by her students decorating kitchen walls.”

William chuckled. He’d seen many of them. “What are you suggesting, François?”

“A small school, perhaps, with another room as a gallery. I know it is extravagant, but I know someone who has just such a place. Because of their love for Destiny, the cost wouldn’t be too great, I think. And the size would be just right.”

“A Destiny Carlton School and Gallery,” William murmured, intrigued. It would be perfect. It would be something lasting, as enduring as his feelings for her, a reassurance that his life was here with her.

“Can you contact this man? I’d like to see him at once.”

“I can have him here in a few moments,” François assured him. “He will show you the property and you can decide.” He frowned. “It is not too much? I have not overstepped?”

“No, you’re a genius,” William assured him.

For a village that tended to thrive on a leisurely pace, things had moved with astonishing speed after that. He saw the property, closed the deal and had an entire team of willing workers paint the faded exterior by the following afternoon. A simple sign was created by the most talented of Destiny’s students.

That evening the entire village was jittery with anticipation. When William and Destiny arrived at the
café, she was stunned by the sight of so many people there to celebrate her birthday. She turned to him with shining eyes.

“You did all this for me? I told you I didn’t need anything.”

“Perhaps you didn’t need it,” William told her. “But I needed to give it to you. And everyone wanted to share in the occasion.”

For two hours in the waning sunlight, they ate and drank wine with their friends. There was plenty of laughter and lively conversation and even a bit of dancing. Destiny sat back with a sigh.

“It’s been an absolutely perfect evening.”

“It’s not quite over,” William said as everyone watched them with barely suppressed excitement. “Let’s go for a walk. There’s something else.”

“Something else? I thought the party was my present.”

“Just the beginning,” William told her. He held out his hand. “Come along.”

“But we can’t leave our guests,” she protested.

He laughed. “They’ll be coming, too. I doubt we could keep them away.”

It was only a few blocks to the new school, and they turned the walk into a joyous parade. When they were almost there, he told her, “Close your eyes.”

“So I can trip and break my neck?”

“No, so I can save the surprise till the very last second.”

She trustingly tucked her hand in his and let him lead the way.

“Now,” he said at last, when he was sure the angle was just right for viewing the building with the last
of the orange sunset’s glow falling on the newly whitewashed stucco walls.

He held his breath as Destiny slowly opened her eyes. At first, she seemed merely puzzled, but then her gaze fell on the sign.

“A school?” she whispered. “You’ve bought me an art school?”

“And a gallery, for your work and for your students’.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she turned to the others who were waiting for her reaction. “And you knew? You were all in on it?”

“But it was Monsieur William who did it,” they told her. “It is his gift.”

William studied her intently. “Do you like it? I wanted you to know how much I respect your talent, how much I want to be a part of this place with you.”

“Oh, William,” she said, then burst into tears.

Panic spread through him. “You hate it, don’t you? It’s all wrong.”

“No, no, it’s the sweetest, most generous gift anyone has ever given me. I just can’t believe you would do such a thing, not when you’ve just…” Her voice trailed off.

“Just been disinherited?” he asked wryly. “Darling, I told you that didn’t matter. Not compared to you. Nothing compares to you.”

And it hadn’t. Not then. Not ever again, William thought as he wandered the boutiques of London looking yet again for the perfect gift for Destiny.

He was counting on quite a lot from this gift, as well. It needed to remind her of the past, yet promise
the future. He supposed another building was out of the question. He hated to repeat himself.

Besides, she would quite likely throw the deed back in his face at this point.

No, this needed to be something smaller, something more personal, an everyday reminder of him that she couldn’t easily ignore.

It was late and he was beginning to despair when he finally spotted it in a shop window. He smiled the instant he saw it.

Five minutes later it was tucked in his pocket, and he was thinking ahead to Christmas Day. It was the first time in years he’d actually looked forward to the holiday, the first time in ages he’d had someone special he wanted to impress.

Of course, it was also the first time ever that a woman was likely to regard his offering with suspicion and distrust. But perhaps, just perhaps, it would create a tiny chink in Destiny’s armor, a hole large enough for him to steal back into her heart.

“Don’t blow a gasket,” Ben announced when he strolled into Richard’s office two days before Christmas and tossed several newspapers onto his desk.

Richard moaned. If his laid-back baby brother was already warning him not to get upset, then whatever was in those papers was going to set his teeth on edge. And it obviously had to do with Destiny, who’d been amazingly adept at ducking his calls in recent days. Since he’d instructed Chester never to tattle on her again and since her personal secretary was as tight-lipped as anyone on earth, there was no one in London
he could call to ask what she was up to. Maybe his brother had the answers he’d been seeking.