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first time Jonas had stormed out in a temper. But he would be back;
she didn't doubt that. He had to be. He had meant it when he told her
she would become his wife in four days' time.
'You and Jonas do seem to have rather a tempestuous relationship,'
her mother acknowledged ruefully. 'But some people do, of course,
and it seems to work out well for them. So I shouldn't worry too
much --'
'Mother, stop burbling,' Cassandra cut in calmly. 'Jonas wants to
marry me only because he wants the shares in the company Daddy
left me, and control over the ones Charles left Bethany,' she told her
mother bluntly. 'Whether our marriage works or not will be
completely irrelevant to the arrangement, so I can assure you I'm not
worrying about that part of things at all!'
Her mother's gasp of astonishment seemed genuine enough. 'I'm sure
you're wrong about this, Cassandra --'
'I'm not,' she returned tautly, dropping down into one of the
armchairs. 'You may as well sit down too, Mother,' she advised
softly. 'We have a lot to talk about, and we may as well be
comfortable while we do it. Sit down, Mother!' she repeated sharply
when Marguerite didn't attempt to move.
Blue eyes widened indignantly, but, for all that, this time her mother
sat. 'I must say, Cassandra --' she straightened her skirt with agitated
movements ' that I'm not particularly happy with the way you're
talking to me this evening!'
Her mouth twisted wryly. 'I've been taking lessons from Jonas,' she
dismissed drily.
'A certain amount of forcefulness can be an attractive trait in a man,'
her mother told her primly. 'But in a woman it's just not --'
'You're burbling again, Mother,' Cassandra told her with raised
brows. 'Which is most unattractive in a man or a woman!'
Delicate colour darkened cheeks already tinted with blusher. 'After
that slightly rebellious time in your teens when you were so
determined over what you were going to do with your life, I had
thought you had become my quieter, more respectful daughter,' her
mother began in a reproving voice obviously striving to regain
some control of this conversation at least!
Cassandra wasn't in the least cowed by the rebuke, her eyes
narrowed. 'Is that why you were so relieved when Jonas passed over
Joy and decided to marry me instead?' she challenged softly. 'Because
you believed I would be the more compliant --?'
'Cassandra, have you been drinking?' Her mother frowned.
'I only wish I had!' she said self-derisively. 'Maybe then none of this
would matter to me. You didn't answer my question, Mother.' She
wasn't blind to the way her mother had tried to change the subject.
'Did you think I would be more compliant than Joy would ever have
been, once the truth came out?'
Her mother's cheeks lost all colour beneath the blusher now, giving
her face a peculiar clownish appearance. 'The truth, Cassandra?' She
gave a lightly puzzled laugh that even to her own ears couldn't have
been the success she had wanted! 'What are you talking about? I don't
think I'm the one burbling, dear --'
'Don't patronise me, Mother,' Cassandra cut in sharply, anger
hardening her voice now. 'What happened? Did Charles come to you
and Daddy and tell you he knew about Daddy's transfer of company
funds, and then when Daddy died you persuaded Charles not to reveal
it had been Daddy who --?'
"That isn't the way it happened at all!' her mother defended heatedly,
sitting forward tensely on the edge of her seat. 'It was Charles's idea
not to --' She broke off abruptly as she saw by Cassandra's triumphant
expression that she had fallen into the trap that had been set for her.
"That wasn't fair, Cassandra,' she said shakily.
Cassandra drew in a ragged breath, shaken now at having her worst
fears confirmed. 'No,' she acknowledged with a sigh, feeling almost
sorry for her mother now as she looked all of her fifty-two years, her
beautiful face ravaged and suddenly old. 'But were you really being
fair to me when you didn't come to me and tell me the truth once
Charles had died?' she prompted huskily.
'Oh, God, Cassandra, I didn't know what to do, where to turn!' Her
mother crumpled completely now. 'The last ten months have been a
nightmare,' she shook her head, breathing deeply, 'wondering if Jonas
was going to find out what had happened!'
'Was there ever a possibility that he wouldn't, once we came to know
him?' she sighed.
'No, I suppose not. But I hoped --'
'Me too.' Cassandra gave a rueful nod. 'But don't you think these last
ten months might have been less of a nightman: if we could have
faced them together, shown a united front instead of keeping it all to
ourselves?' But she knew why her mother couldn't come to her, knew
it had to do with what seemed to have been a lifetime problem that
of her mother just not being able to understand her, or know how she
was going to react to certain things; she had just never been able to
get close to Cassandra in the way she was to her youngest daughter,
Joy being a much more open person, whether you liked that openness
or not.
'You don't understand just how much of a nightmare it's been for me.'
Her mother put up a shaking hand to her brow. 'Godfrey has been
pressing me to marry him,' she explained at Cassandra's questioning
look. 'And, God help me, things have felt so desperate, I almost
considered it!'
If there could be any humour in this situation then this
statement poor Godfrey! would have been it! But there was
nothing in the least amusing about any of this. 'How convenient for
you, when it turned out I'm to be the sacrifice instead of you to
Jonas!' Cassandra snapped, her eyes flashing deep golden.
'I only meant --' Her mother broke off abruptly as the doorbell rang
once again, and she frowned her puzzlement at this second late-night
caller. 'Who on earth could that be this time of night... ? Unless Joy
has forgotten her key again.' She sighed wearily at her youngest
daughter's thoughtlessness. 'Cassandra, I would rather we didn't
discuss any of this in front of Joy --'
'Mother, she isn't a child any more,' she cut in impatiently. 'Don't you
think it's time you stopped protecting her from the truth as if she were
one? She's twenty-three years of age, not --'
'It has nothing to do with protecting Joy,' her mother told her fiercely,
blue eyes flashing familiarly. 'Joy is a chatter-box; she would tell
Colin, at least, all about this. I just happen to think the fewer people
that know about this, the better chance we have of it not becoming
public --' She looked across the room as the door opened and her
housekeeper entered the room, quickly followed by her visitor.
'Jonas...!' she gasped, standing up slowly, fear in her face now as she
stared at him striding forcefully into the room. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]