One Hour to Midnight (10 page)

"But my taxi..."

"Forget it. I'm sending you to Claremont."

Chapter Six

V
eronica's horrified expression hit Leon where it hurt. Did she really see him as some sort of monster, out to steal her soul?

Her panicked gaze skimmed across him a moment before those long lashes swept across those incredible sea-blue eyes, shielding them. The same coloured eyes she shared with his son.

No, not my son, this woman's son, and the child she thinks I stole from her.
 

The thought had him gripping her hands a little tighter than he intended. "You're in no fit condition to stay at a hotel. Cassie will love to spend a few days cosseting you."

"Claremont is your home." She darted him an anxious under-her-lashes glance.

What the hell does she think I'll do to her? God knows, there's room enough, and more, for us to live at Claremont and never set eyes on each other unless we actually want to.

"Don't let that worry you. I'll be here, at my son's side."
 

The way she flinched and the rush of colour that flooded her pale face made him regret his stinging words.
 

"I've made reservations."

He was forced to lean closer to hear her and caught a hint of the light, floral perfume and a warm womanly musk, as understated as the clothing she wore. The practical shirt a far cry from the tight stretchy number she'd worn that night in the bar. It was almost puritanical and his fingers itched to peel it away, and reveal those lush curves he couldn't get out of his mind.

"Reservations can be cancelled," he said, impatient with his thoughts and the rapid rush of blood travelling south. "I'll deal with it. Where are you staying?"
 

Succumbing to the need to touch her, he lifted a hand and held it against her face.
 

"The Berkley."

Why was she fighting him? Was she afraid to revisit Claremont?

He caught her hands in his, frowning when he felt their betraying tremble. "Were you so very unhappy at Claremont?"

"Unhappy? I have nightmares about that place." She shook her head and gave him a look so full of pity. "Besides, it never pays to revisit the scene of a crime."
 

"Is that meant to be funny?"

"Whatever gave you the idea the thought of visiting anywhere you live is remotely funny." This was delivered with such withering scorn, he was left scorched.

Too aware of the hovering nurse, Leon gripped her hands. "Visiting Claremont may help you put the past into some sort of perspective."

"Make it all neat and tidy, you mean?" She shook her head. "That would suit you, Leon wouldn't it?"
 

The challenge was unmistakeable.
 

"Nothing about this situation suits me, least of all dealing with a stubborn woman who's carrying an enormous chip on her shoulder. And here's me thinking you might enjoy catching up with Cassie and McKenna. I know they both thought you hung the moon."
 

He saw her indecision and had the sensation he'd just compounded a grave error. Cassie Burns, his housekeeper had been at Claremont since he was a teenager and McKenna, his driver, had first worked for his parents. In the past, he'd squirmed under the lash of their condemnation over this woman.

Bringing Ricki here is a mistake, Leon. Find some other solution to her situation.

Where else can I ensure she's safe?

And what makes you think she's safe here? With Julia? You're brewing trouble.

As his housekeeper's words ghosted through his memory, Leon knew it was suddenly as important as taking his next breath, that Ricki—scratch that—Veronica returned to Claremont.

She needed to visit, and he needed to have her under his roof.

Had Cassie been right? Was there just cause for Veronica's anger and resentment? Did she have any reason to trust him? She chewed at her lush lower lip, and he was filled with sudden misgiving.
 

Are my reasons so very altruistic?
 

"Julia's no longer at Claremont, Veronica. I'm issuing you the invitation."

One swift glance from sea-blue eyes made him regret the words. "You don't think I'd be stupid enough to take your word it would be okay to visit your home if she was still alive, still the lady of the manor?"

Each word found a vulnerable chink bringing with it, a sting of guilt. What had transpired between his wife and Veronica?
 

"Shall I call McKenna?"

She shrugged and spread her hands. Leon took that as acquiescence and rose and strode to the desk. Within minutes, McKenna had the Bentley under the portico.

"McKenna's here with the car." He held her arm as she stood up, sliding it around her waist when she staggered. "Take it easy."
 

Her fragility worried him. He'd never thought meeting with Jordan would upset her so badly. He steadied her until she could stand unaided, but kept a firm grip on her arm as he signalled a hovering nurse to pick up her case and handbag.

Outside, he opened the car door and helped her into the back seat.
 

"See her safely into Cassie's care, McKenna." Leon laid a hand on her cheek.
 
"Rest and we'll be in touch when we need you, try not to worry. And, thanks for what you did for Jordan back there, Veronica. That's the most animation he's shown in weeks. A war," he shook his head, "that was inspired."

"I'm a teacher, Leon. I deal with kids Jordan's age every day."

"Maybe, but it sure beats the hell out of hearing him talk about dying."

He shut the car door and stood there, hands in his pockets as he watched the car pull away, frowning heavily.

Veronica's reaction to the mere suggestion of visiting Claremont made him more than a little uneasy. What had transpired between the two women while he'd been desperately fixing the enormous mess Yannis left when he topped himself?

Guilt hit him upside of the head.

He rarely thought of that black time but Veronica's re-entry into his life was forcing him to re-evaluate.
 

Still brooding, he strode back inside the hospital and to Jordan's side. The boy was asleep. Leon stood watching him, still frowning. Why had visiting with Jordan upset Veronica so badly? Her reaction didn't bode well for seeing his plans come to fruition.

As he smoothed a lock of hair off his son's forehead, Leon knew there was no turning back. Guilt would not sway him from moving forward.

~***~

Veronica slumped in the leather seat as the powerful car eased out onto the roadway.

McKenna drove with the same reverence he lavished on the car's upkeep. She caught his glance in the rear vision mirror and turned to look out the window, scarcely able to believe how easily Leon had persuaded her to return to Claremont.

As the car turned in the wide stone entrance she remembered so well, a shiver worked its way down her spine.

Am I crazy? I vowed I'd never to return here.
A sigh trembled from her.
But then I never imagined that Jordan's life would depend on me, either.

The car inched along the gravel drive in the dappled shade of huge river gums, marbled trunks standing to attention like a living guard of honour.

She leaned forward slightly, anticipating that first glimpse.

"It never fails," McKenna chuckled and she knew he'd deliberately slowed the car to prolong the magic moment.

"It is special."

As the car rounded the last curve, she saw it.

Claremont
.

A huge jacaranda tree, its buds already a hazy mauve, towered on one side of the house, the lacy foliage lending a frothy delicacy to the heavy blue stonewalls and long windows. On the other side a magnificent Murray River Gum shaded the stone outbuilding that in years past was servants' quarters. Now they housed a fleet of cars.
 

"Leon's ancestors built it when Australia still had penal colonies." McKenna's love and pride for the old homestead echoed in his tone. "The first wine grapes and wheat in Victoria were grown here."

"That's impossible to imagine now." The reminder of just how powerful this family was made her uneasy. Claremont was now incorporated in an exclusive suburb of Dandenong, north east of the city centre. Its pastoral acres long since submerged in residential suburbs.

The car glided to a halt on the gravel forecourt.

McKenna was out and had the door open for her before she knew it, retrieved her suitcase and was now carrying it up the steps.

Cassie Burns stood by the front door, her face creased in a welcoming smile.

Tears flooded Veronica's eyes. She ran up the steps and caught the older woman's hands. "Cassie. It's so good to see you."

"Ricki, all grown up." Cassie squeezed her hands tightly, her blue eyes warm. "Leon rang me to expect you. Come away in."

Veronica followed the older woman, wiping a tear from her cheek. Cassie like Claremont never changed.
 

Once inside the old house, the atmosphere settled around Veronica like a cloak, redolent of all who'd loved and lived and died within these walls.

There was no point pining. She would never belong here.

Then she saw the portrait of Julia holding a child. Mesmerised she walked closer, agony ripping her heart to shreds.

That's Jordan, my child, my baby
.

"It's a good likeness." Cassie gripped her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Jordan was a bonny wee lad."

Veronica nodded moving away, fighting rage and jealousy.
Jordan is mine. He grew under my heart. Not Julia's.
 

But I gave him away
,
surrendered the right to call him mine.

She looked around and knew she'd made a colossal mistake returning. Two steps inside and already the memories tormented her.
 

She saw the hallway through the sheen of tears as she followed Cassie down into the original part of the old house. In the thirties Leon's grandfather had added a new wing and done extensive renovations on the upper story.

"Leon asked me to prepare these rooms for you." Cassie opened the door into the guest suite Veronica had occupied before Jordan's birth. "If you want anything let me know. When you're ready I'll bring tea to the blue sitting room. You still drink tea?"

"I do, thank you."
 

Once alone, Veronica went to the wide bay window. Its flanking French doors opened onto a private terrace screened by melaleucas and weeping callistemon trees.

Unbidden, the haunting memories returned.

At first she'd been taken in by Julia's gentleness.

It was only later, after Jordan's birth, and outside the sphere of the other woman's influence, that she saw Julia's manipulation with a clear eye.
 

Once, when Julia was expecting important guests, she'd tried to shift her from this suite of rooms to a smaller, upstairs, bed sitting room.

Leon vetoed it.

Veronica shivered as his angry words echoed in her head.

Ricki is family, Julia. She's entitled to first consideration. I won't have her hidden away upstairs as if she's another Mrs Rochester.

It was one of the rare occasions Leon had overruled his wife. But Julia soon exacted revenge.
 

While Ricki rested, Julia visited and informed her that her presence was an embarrassment. Sonia deserved sympathy. Ricki, as
the other woman,
didn't. She was to plead tiredness and avoid their guests.

In the end subterfuge wasn't necessary. She'd spent the next three weeks on bed-rest fearful she'd lose her baby.

Veronica shook her head, but the memories were persistent.
 

Why did I allow myself to be persuaded to return?

 
Now, Veronica could see that beneath Julia's gentle veneer, lay a steel-trap toughness.
 

She wanted my baby. And expertly manipulated my youth and unhappy guilt until she achieved what she wanted
.
 

Was Julia responsible for engineering Sonia's visit, a visit that culminated in Veronica's collapse? Now, years too late, her suspicions crystallized into certainty.
 

And rehashing the past is such a wasted exercise. Let it go, Veronica. Let it go!
 

A tap on the door and Cassie popped her head in. "I've made tea."

As she followed the kindly Scotswoman, Veronica noticed the house was almost unchanged, furnished with a mix of antiques and modern furniture and decorated in pastels.