Dory's Avengers (32 page)

‘Hello there, you're Catherine, aren't you? I'm Theo. The old men are talking business I suppose,' he continued, jerking his head at Lord William and Philip Lorimer. ‘So boring! How about we get something to drink?'

Offering his arm to Catherine, Theo led her over to the drinks laid out on the huge antique sideboard. Theo despised his father's Scheme, and he despised his father's idea to get Lorimer onside, but he couldn't help feeling flattered by the obvious adoration in the young woman's eyes as she gazed at him. Lord William was right in one respect; Theo was a very frustrated young man and, in the absence of the enigmatic Matilda, Catherine might just be the best he was going to get. She was quite pretty, really…

‘What do you fancy?' asked Theo as they arrived at the drinks. Not waiting for a reply, Theo selected champagne for both of them, clinked his glass against Catherine's and said, ‘Nice dress, by the way.'

‘No it's not,' said Catherine, speaking to Theo for the first time and immediately blushing to the roots of her hair. To her delight, Theo laughed.

‘OK, you're right,' he said. ‘I'm so glad it wasn't your choice. I've had to wear some pretty ghastly things too from time to time, although never pink frills.'

Relaxing gradually as the champagne and Theo's easy charm worked their magic, Catherine actually found herself enjoying the soirée she'd been dreading all week. Even the awful dress, chosen by the personal shopper Catherine was too shy to question, was forgotten as she basked in the company of Theo. His ready smile, his warm brown eyes so full of humour, the way his hand brushed hers as he handed her more champagne, the warmth of his leg pressed against hers; all combined in a heady mix and before long a smile of pure pleasure lit up her face.

Watching his son's skilful manipulation of the young woman until he virtually had her eating out of his hands, Lord William was greatly satisfied with the night's work.

‘Ah, Theodore,' said Lord William silently, seeing Theo brush a strand of hair off Catherine's face as she looked back at him with undisguised adoration, ‘you're not as unlike me as you think…'

Chapter Twelve

Lord William's Christmas soirée was a huge success for him, and a very enjoyable evening for everyone else. That didn't alter the fact that both Nicola and Lysander were very relieved to be travelling north on Christmas Eve, back to the uncomplicated friendship of the Applethwaite Unsponsored. As the previous few days had been somewhat traumatic for Lysander, Nicola decided to drive home to give her husband a chance to catch up on his sleep. However, Lysander was so high-spirited to be going home, far away from Lord William and his sycophantic inner circle, that he stayed awake the whole time chatting to his wife. There was a lot to discuss too; His Lordship's plan to include Louis in the British gymnastics team for the Games, Lord William's soirée and Theo's apparent new love interest, Lysander seeming to be constantly in His Lordship's bad books…

‘I can't do anything right at the moment, Nikki,' he said, looking actually quite happy with the fact.

‘Just be careful, Sandy,' she replied, worried for her husband but too happy about going home for Christmas to pursue the subject. Unbeknown to Mr and Mrs Trevelyan, though, it was actually Nicola who was the topic of conversation in Lord William's office. Summoning Lee Fellows and other trusted members of his security team, Lord William informed them that there seemed to be a bit of a problem. The discussion was so delicate that Lord William
wasn't going to risk Theo eavesdropping, and had commissioned Stephen Dyer to keep his son in the security room during the course of the meeting.

‘I can't have Theodore listening in on this one, Stephen. Keep him occupied any way you see fit; just keep him out of the way.'

Lord William returned to his office with the air of detached amusement that always bode ill for his son. He knew exactly how Dyer was likely to occupy himself with Theo, and he really didn't care. The young man was getting a bit too self-assured for His Lordship's liking and needed bringing down a peg or two. By the time he was addressing his top security men, Theo was the last thing on Lord William's mind.

‘Gentlemen,' he said, seating himself behind his desk, ‘Nicola Trevelyan. She looked rather alert for my liking last night. Fellows, as head of security I'd like you to explain to me why she is no longer dependent on drugs. Has her supply dried up?'

‘Your Lordship, we weren't prepared for Wallis and for Mrs Trevelyan's son to get involved. She was totally dependent until the last few months…'

‘You got complacent, you mean. For years she's been no threat to us; now she is again. I want her watched closely. Get your best people on to it, Fellows. She was a big troublemaker at the beginning of the Scheme, her and that bloody Wallis. God, that wretched little village gives me nothing but trouble.'

Dismissing the security guards from his office, Lord William advised them not to burst in on Dyer and Theo without fair warning. He then spent some time at his desk contemplating just how much trouble Applethwaite was causing to the Scheme. He was still deep in thought when Theo slammed into the room, fresh from the shower and angrier than Lord William had ever seen him.

‘What are you playing at, Your Lordship? A few weeks ago you forbade that creep to go near me; today you give him carte blanche to…'

Breaking off abruptly, Theo waved his hands in disgust and prowled round the office like a caged animal. His father regarded him with amusement, then said, ‘Just keeping you focused, Theodore. Keep the sweet Catherine happy, or it'll be Stephen Dyer from now on…'

‘FUCK OFF!' yelled Theo, slamming his fists down on Lord William's desk. ‘This is NOT a fucking joke. Some Christmas Eve this is turning out to be! What am I, Dyer's fucking Christmas present?'

‘Theodore, control yourself and stop swearing!'

‘I did everything you fucking asked of me last night, and you…'

‘Theodore! This conversation does not continue until you calm down and stop swearing!'

Theo walked over to the window of the office and leant his face against the pane, hands tightly clenched into fists, breathing heavy. Anyone looking up from the street below would have seen an extremely angry young man at the third-floor window, so at odds with the cheery Christmas tree displayed directly below him. For a while Lord William gazed at his son's heaving shoulders, waiting for Theo to calm down and realising after ten minutes or so that it wasn't going to happen. Finally Lord William got up from his desk and crossed over to his son, laying a hand on the young man's shoulder. Theo flinched as though he'd been stung and jumped out of his father's reach.

‘Don't touch me! Don't you EVER touch me!' To Lord William's amazement, Theo was actually crying. His strong, self-assured son had tears flooding down his face.

‘Yes, look, Your Lordshit. You've finally achieved it. You've finally broken me. You must be so proud…'

Running to the door Theo wrenched it open, fled
through it, and slammed it with all his might behind him. Lord William heard his son's feet pounding up the stairs, then the sound of another door slam as Theo shut himself in his bedroom. More shaken by his son's rare show of emotion than he wanted to admit, Lord William sat at his desk staring at his blank computer screen for a long time, thoughts of Theo taking over from worries about Applethwaite. ‘No, Theodore,' murmured Lord William, ‘I'm far from proud. I got it wrong this morning. I got it so badly wrong.'

By the afternoon Marina had persuaded her brother down from his bedroom, tempting him with promises of cartoons and mince pies. When Lord William joined his family in the drawing room for the beginning of the Christmas festivities, he was relieved to see Theo sprawled out over his favourite beanbag, watching repeats of old comedy shows and eating his way steadily through a bowl of nuts.

‘Don't spoil your appetite, Theodore. Remember Catherine and her parents are joining us for dinner tonight.' Without speaking, or even looking at his father, Theo replaced the bowl of nuts on the sideboard before throwing himself back down onto his beanbag. Downstairs, the doorbell rang announcing the arrival of the Lorimers.

‘Marina darling, go and find Rosanna. Our guests have arrived.' As soon as Marina left the room, Lord William sat himself next to Theo on the beanbag she'd just vacated.

‘These things are quite comfortable, aren't they, Theodore? I'm surprised.'

Silence.

‘I've not got long, so I'll come straight out with it. I'm sorry, Theodore.'

Without taking his eyes from the television screen, Theo said, ‘For what? Being the worst father in history?'

‘Well, no. I mean for letting Dyer, you know…'

‘Fuck me once more? Rape me? Don't be sensitive on my account, Your Lordship, I'm the one with the sore arse.'

Wincing at his son's brutal words, Lord William said, ‘Theodore, it won't happen again. You have my word…'

‘Your Lordship, your word's not worth a wank. You promised me that once before. You lied.'

Recovering with remarkable speed as the Lorimers were shown into the room along with Marina and Rosanna, Theo leapt to his feet and greeted the guests warmly. Shaking Philip and his wife by the hands and inquiring as to whether they'd had an enjoyable Christmas Eve, Theo then turned in Catherine's direction with a huge smile. Kissing her gently on the cheek, he told her that she looked beautiful and found he actually meant it. More casually dressed than the previous night, she looked good in a black jumper which clung pleasingly to her slim frame, tartan miniskirt and black boots. Her blonde hair was loose and hung to her shoulders, sleek and shiny. Pushing thoughts of mysterious Matilda, who in Theo's imagination had taken on goddess status, to the back of his mind he realised that Catherine really was very pleasing to the eye. ‘I'm not going to chat her up for His Lordshit's sake,' said Theo to himself, leading Catherine to the sofa and sitting down beside her, ‘I'm going to chat her up because I like her.'

The evening of Christmas Eve in the St Benedict residence was a thoroughly enjoyable affair, Philip and his wife Simone proving to be engaging company. Theo was his usual sparkling self, and once again his father was impressed with the young man's remarkable self-control. I've not broken you, Theodore, Lord William thought; I could never do that.

Theo himself was enjoying the evening very much indeed; it had been so many years since he'd spent Christmas downstairs with his family, and he was determined to relish every moment of it. He found that neither the amount of
nuts he'd consumed earlier nor the nasty experience with Dyer had dampened his appetite at all, and he enjoyed every mouthful of the excellent dinner. Catherine picked at her food; never a big eater she was far more interested in savouring every moment of being seated next to Theo in Lord William's grand dining room. After dinner, which had been fairly informal, the evening became even more relaxed as Theo fetched his old guitar and played a selection of well-known Christmas carols. The only light in the drawing room came from the Christmas tree and the roaring fire, and as the wine flowed Lord William found himself happier than he could remember feeling for many years. Concentrating on his son strumming the guitar while everyone sang along more and more heartily as the wine had its effect, Lord William tried not to let the thought run its course: he hadn't felt this happy since Isabelle was part of his life. Even Rosanna's eyes were sparkling with Christmas cheer as she sang the familiar songs in her surprisingly sweet voice, holding hands with her boyfriend Adam. Marina sat with Catherine while Theo played, the two shy young women relaxing in each other's company and forging the beginnings of a friendship.

Eventually Theo put his guitar down and held his hand out to Catherine as the group got up to fetch drinks or just mingle and chat. Taking her warm hand in his, mellow from the wine, Theo found himself suddenly anxious to be alone with Catherine. Leading her from the room, he took her to the back of the house and the more informal family room found there. A fire had been lit in the family room too, and it was warm and cosy. It had its own Christmas tree, smaller than the one in the drawing room and enthusiastically decorated by Theo himself. Sitting Catherine down beside him on the comfortable sofa, Theo poured them each another glass of wine and, laughing, nodded his head towards the tree.

‘All my work, I'm afraid. His Lordship asked me not to put so many decorations on it. I hate to say it, but I think he may have been right.'

‘It looks fab to me,' Catherine replied, wanting so badly to say the right thing but unable to resist satisfying her curiosity. ‘Theo, why do you call your father ‘‘Your Lordship''?'

Smiling warmly at her, putting her more at ease with every moment, Theo replied casually, ‘Just a little family joke, Cathie. Do you mind being called Cathie?'

Catherine shook her head, thinking that Theo could call her Medusa if he wanted. To her horror, she found that the wine had loosened her tongue and she'd spoken the thought out loud. The embarrassment was short-lived, though; Theo roared with laughter, and Catherine found she couldn't help but join in with his infectious laugh.

‘You're far from being the Medusa, Cathie,' said Theo, then he leant forward and kissed her. Expecting Theo to be experienced and self-assured, Cathie was surprised to find his kiss was tentative. In the end she was the one who moved the kisses on from shy brushes of their lips to something a little more passionate. Putting her arms round Theo's body, she pressed her mouth harder onto his and slipped her tongue between his lips. Theo pulled her into his arms and responded with typically Theo-like enthusiasm. Looking into the family room half an hour later, Stephen Dyer crashed down from the cloud he'd been riding around on all day to find the gorgeous Lord Theodore apparently joined at the mouth to Lorimer's daughter.

‘Disgusting,' muttered Dyer. Theo would have been very happy to have seen the loathsome Dyer's face drop in dismay, but both he and Catherine were too wrapped up in each other to even notice. Closing the door behind him, Dyer was even more dismayed to virtually walk into Lord William.