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declared Helen coolly, and Olivia slumped back in her chair, feeling utterly dumbfounded.
'I can see you're surprised,' Helen went on, after a minute, and Olivia thought how inadequate that expression was to describe how she was feeling. 'But" you have to believe me when I say it's what we both want really.'
'What you both want?' Olivia swallowed, barely capable of coherent thought, and Helen gave a nervous laugh.
'Yes.' She hesitated for a moment, and then went on, 'It's difficult for me to say this, but I don't love Matthew either. Oh, I'm grateful to him. I'll always be grateful to him. But I think the time has come for me to take my life into my own hands.
Matthew still thinks I can't manage on my own, but I can. And I'm hoping you'll be able to persuade him, for all our sakes.'
Olivia stared at her aghast. 'You expect me to----'
'Well, you can't deny you're still attracted to one another,' put in Helen quickly. 'As soon as I heard you were coming back for your grandmother's funeral, I knew that you and Matthew----'
'Don't"don't say any more!'
Olivia was hardly aware she had spoken aloud until Helen faltered, her thin, aristocratic features mirroring the indignation she was feeling. Until then, the disbelief Olivia was feeling that they should be having this conversation had kept her mute, but now a feeling of raw betrayal was sweeping over her. How could Helen come here and say these things to her? It was unbelievable!
'I don't know why you're looking at me like that,' Helen declared huffily, recovering her equilibrium. 'You can't pretend that you and Matthew haven't"been alone together. Why, Enid said she thought you both looked as guilty as Judas when she found you---'
'Enid!' Olivia's face showed her distaste. 'Do you mean Enid Davis?'
Helen hesitated, as if regretting mentioning the other woman's name, but then she evidently decided it wasn't worth worrying over. 'I suppose so,' she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 'She's your mother's housekeeper, isn't she?'
Olivia got up from her chair and walked across to the window above the sink. Her mind was in a turmoil, and it was incredibly difficult not to demand that Helen get out of the house, immediately. How could she discuss her marriage to Matthew so dispa.s.sionately? It was as if it was a temporary inconvenience that she wished to be free of.
And yet, although that was true, Olivia couldn't help thinking what this could have meant to her and Matthew. If they had had the right to a future together, she might well have jumped at Helen's offer. She had guessed he had married Helen on the rebound, but until now she had had no idea of the other factors involved. But the other woman's explanation had done much to define his motives ten years ago, and in normal circ.u.mstances she would have forgiven him willingly.
It occurred to her then that, in effect"if not in the eyes of G.o.d"she could pretend that these were normal circ.u.mstances.
Her grandmother's death had destroyed the only obstacle that had stood in their path. If her mother hadn't objected to her relationship with Matthew ten years ago, why would she object now? And Matthew's father" her father"didn't even know he had a daughter...
She caught her breath. Dear G.o.d, she thought sickly, what was she thinking? Helen had come to her with her preposterous suggestion, and in so doing, she had opened Olivia's mind to" corruption. There was no other word for it. She had actually been considering breaking every law known to G.o.d and man. And why? Because no one knew"or cared"that she was old Matthew Ryan's daughter.
But she knew, she reminded herself bitterly. And even if she wasn't flesh of Harriet Stoner's flesh, she had absorbed enough of her teachings throughout her life to know she couldn't go through with it.
Still, the idea that Helen should have come here to ask her to intercede on her behalf was incredible. And yet, if what Helen said was true, it did have a twisted kind of logic. And she was beginning to realise that Helen was anything but illogical.
Licking her lips, she turned, gripping the drainer behind her for support. 'W-why don't you ask Matt" Matthew for a divorce?' she asked.
'Do you think I haven't?' Helen got up from the table, then, and although Olivia was half afraid she was going to come across the room towards her, the other woman merely rested her hands on the back of her chair. 'Of course I've asked him,' she added.
'But as I said earlier, Matthew is an"honourable man. He still thinks I couldn't manage without him!'
Olivia frowned. 'But"you do"live apart, don't you?'
'Well"yes.' Helen shrugged. 'But that means nothing in a court of law.'
'A court of law!' Olivia was confused. 'I'm afraid--- 'Oh, forget it,' said Helen swiftly, and once again Olivia had the distinct impression her visitor felt she had said too much.
'I"I just thought you might feel as I do. That"Matthew had sacrificed his own happiness long enough.'
Put like that, Olivia couldn't argue with it, and as if seeing the acknowledgement in her eyes Helen made her final appeal.
'Matthew doesn't know I'm here, of course,' she. said. 'And he mustn't. If he thought I had approached you, he'd feel utterly humiliated. But I wanted you to know that I'd do nothing to prevent you two from getting back together, and I also know that if Matthew thought it was what you wanted he'd ask me for a divorce tomorrow!'
Helen left, as she had come, on the rather temperamental stallion that had apparently brought her, which explained why Olivia hadn't heard her arrival. Not that the other woman's means of getting there was of any importance. Compared to the upheaval she had caused Olivia, how Helen had actually got here didn't warrant consideration.
The idea of going on with her gardening was no longer appealing either, and Olivia poured herself a gla.s.s of orange juice and tried to relax. But even half an hour later she was still in a state of some distraction, and her mother's appearance from the bedroom didn't make things any easier.
'Did I hear voices earlier?' Mrs Stoner enquired, wheeling herself across the floor, and switching on the kettle. 'I thought I did. Was it Enid?'
'No.' Olivia's response was scarcely audible, and at her mother's raised brows she added, 'It was Helen.'
'Helen?' Her mother looked as surprised as Olivia had done, when she first recognised her visitor. 'Helen was here!'
'Mmm.' Olivia couldn't quite meet her mother's gaze, and Felicity Stoner frowned.
'So?' She arched brows very like her daughter's. 'What did she want?'
'To see me,' said Olivia offhandedly. 'Um"did you have a good rest?'
'Olivia!'
Her mother's use of her name was impatient, and Olivia sighed.
'All right. If you must know, she came to tell me that Mrs Davis has been gossiping about"about Matthew and me.'
'Enid!' Mrs Stoner was evidently shocked. 'What has she been saying?'
'Oh---' Inwardly Olivia groaned. 'Just that she found us together. You remember. The day of the funeral.'
'And what did Helen say about that?'
That she wants me to ask Matthew to get a divorce! Olivia answered silently, but then, realising she couldn't confide in her mother, she shrugged. 'Not a lot.' She paused, and then added, rather unevenly, 'Do you know why she and Matt got married?'
'Well, I know why she married Matthew,' responded Mrs Stoner quietly. 'I'm not quite so clear as to why he married her.'
She looked at her daughter, and Olivia wished she found it easier to dissemble. 'He was on the rebound from you, of course. That could have tipped the balance.'
'From me!'
Olivia felt her nails digging into her palms, and she longed to ask her mother how she could sit there and say such a thing, without any apparent trace of conscience. Didn't she have any idea what she was condoning? Didn't she care? How could anyone live with Harriet Stoner all those years and not feel the warning hand of fate?
'Yes, from you,' Felicity said now, allowing the kettle to turn itself off again, without making any attempt to make some tea.
'You knew how Matt felt about you. Oh, I realise you were young, and perhaps you weren't ready to settle down, but you can have been in no doubt that that was what Matt expected.'
Olivia stared at her. 'But,' she said, choosing her words with care, 'don't you think our"relationship"was a little"unwise--- 'Because of the differences between you?' broke in her mother quickly. 'Oh, no. I don't think so. You may not have been Lady Lavinia's first choice as a wife for her son, but Matt's father was always very fond of you, you know that.'
Olivia's throat constricted. 'Well, he would be, wouldn't he?'
she said, in a strangled voice, but instead of the reaction she had half expected her mother laughed.
'You mean because he always had a weakness for a pretty face?' she exclaimed lightly. 'Well, yes, I suppose----'
'No. I meant because"because I was your daughter,' said Olivia, feeling like the worst kind of traitor, but instead of looking anxious her mother only sighed.
'I wondered if you'd ever heard that old story,' she said, her expression turning wistful. 'Yes. Matthew's father and I were"friends, years ago. I dare say he does see a likeness between us.'
And not just between us, thought Olivia wretchedly, only she didn't have the nerve to say it. Her mother had said enough, after all. She had admitted that she and Matthew's father had known one another. She didn't know her daughter had seen the letters, but she didn't need to. Taken together, the two things were irrefutable.
'Anyway, I shall speak to Enid Davis, when I get the chance,'
Felicity continued now, and Olivia was half relieved to have the initiative taken from her. 'But Helen must know that you shouldn't rely on gossip. I hope she didn't upset you, my dear. I fear Helen knows her days as Matthew's wife are numbered.'
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
Olivia rang Agnes Reina that evening, and confirmed that the other woman was coping very well without her. 'But I have to tell you that Perry's been in and out of the office during the last couple of days, asking me if I've heard from you, and if I know when you're coming back,' Agnes added ruefully. 'For goodness'
sake, put the poor man out of his misery. Tell him how long you're planning to stay.'
'Not"not much longer,' said Olivia cautiously, realising she was only putting off booking her return flight because of Matthew. It was crazy, she knew, particularly after what she had learned that afternoon, but the idea of putting several thousand miles between them again was tearing her to pieces.
'Well, hurray,' said Agnes, laughing. 'I'll tell him, shall I? Or would you rather do it yourself?'
'No. No, you tell him, Agnes,' replied Olivia weakly.
'Um"just say I expect to be back within the week. I'll let you know the exact day later.'
'OK.'.
Agnes rang off, but Olivia sat for some time staring at the phone after she had done so. Somehow the agency, and the life she had led in New York, seemed so remote" unreal, almost"and she knew she had no real desire to go back there.
She was even playing with the idea of starting an agency here in England, so that she could divide her time between the two, but the dangers inherent in that were colossal. She should never have come back, she thought, for the umpteenth time. She had thought the fire was dead, but it had only been smouldering.
Now she had blown life into it again, and like a forest blaze it was rapidly getting out of control.
The next morning Olivia got a call from Lady Lavinia Ryan.
It came while her father was at home, having his morning break, and he answered the phone. 'It's Lady Lavinia,' he said, coming out of his study, looking a little red-faced. 'She wants to speak to you, Livvy. You'd better take it in here.'
'For me?'
Olivia's stomach plunged, and a little of what she was feeling must have shown in her face, because her father said, a little harshly, 'Just watch what you say, girl. I don't want you upsetting the Ryans again.'
Olivia's eyes widened, and she exchanged an indignant look with her mother, but she had no choice about taking the call. So far as Robert Stoner was concerned, it was a royal summons.
All the same, she was surprised when Matthew's mother quickly dispensed with the preliminaries, and invited her to Rycroft for supper that evening. 'I hope you'll come, Olivia,' she said, and Olivia knew it was in the nature of a command. People didn't refuse invitations to Rycroft. And if her father thought she had, she would never hear the end of it.
'Well---' she began, trying desperately to think of some legitimate reason why she should refuse, but Lady Lavinia was not prepared to listen to her excuses.
'I think you owe it to us to come, Olivia,' she said, making a refusal that much more difficult. 'We don't want anyone to think that we bear any grudges, do we?'
Olivia's lips parted. 'No.'
'Good. I'm glad you see it that way. We'll expect you at seven-thirty. Informal dress, of course.'
Olivia spent the remainder of the day, until it was time to get ready to go to Rycroft, trying to antic.i.p.ate why Lady Lavinia should have issued her invitation. As far as she could see, there was no earthly reason why the Ryans should want to entertain her, and the prospect of meeting Matthew's father again, knowing what she did, was not appealing. What if her grandmother had been wrong? What if Matthew's father did know she was his betrayed daughter? Oh, G.o.d! What would she do if he brought the subject up?
But, as she dressed to go out that evening, she refused to consider that eventuality. She couldn't believe that if Mr Ryan did know he wouldn't have done something about it. A person like that wouldn't just ignore his responsibilities" would he?
Deciding what to wear was the least of her problems.
Because she had never intended to stay on after the funeral, the few clothes she had brought with her provided little choice. It was either the silk suit she had worn on the day of the funeral, or trousers and a casual top; and while Lady Lavinia had said informal dress, Olivia couldn't see her sitting down to supper in trousers. Consequently, she chose the suit, teaming it with a cream vest, instead of the black one she had worn to church.
A shower had left her hair soft and silky, the perm she had had some weeks before gentling into waves about her unnaturally pale face. And, noticing how pale she was, she added a trace of blusher to her cheekbones to lessen the impact. The last thing she wanted was for the Ryans to think she was afraid to meet them"even if she was!
It had been arranged that her father should run her to Rycroft, but when she came downstairs at a quarter past seven she found Matthew lounging in the drawing-room, talking to her parents. He was the last person she had expected to see, and, far from appearing pale, a wave of hot colour swept into her cheeks when she saw him. Somehow she had got it into her head that he had had no part in his mother's invitation, and although she knew he still lived at Rycroft she had half imagined he wouldn't be there tonight.
'Matt's come to take you to Rycroft,' her father remarked, as if an explanation was necessary. He gave his daughter a speaking look. 'Isn't that kind of him?'
Olivia moistened her lips. 'Very kind,' she said, responding to the warning in her father's expression. 'But I hope you told him it wasn't necessary.'
'I thought I'd save you having to drive home alone,' averred Matthew evenly. 'I didn't realise your father was going to bring you.'
'Really?'
Olivia knew there was an edge to her voice, but she couldn't help it, and Robert Stoner elaborated. 'Matt thought you'd be driving yourself,' he declared. 'But I explained you got your licence in the States.'
'I see.'
Olivia's colour was subsiding, but her heart was still sending the blood pounding through her veins, and she was amazed that no one else could hear it. It seemed deafening to her.
'OK.' Matthew put the empty gla.s.s he had been holding aside, and came lithely to his feet. He was wearing dark colours tonight"black trousers, and a dark grey shirt, open at the neck to reveal the brown column of his throat. Ten years ago his mother would have insisted he wore a tie, even for an informal dinner at home, Olivia reflected irrelevantly, but evidently times had changed. 'Shall we go?'
Do I have a choice? Olivia countered, but only to herself.
With her father watching her like a hawk, and her mother displaying a genuine pleasure that she was going out for the evening, she couldn't spoil their enjoyment with her grudging comments. Besides, Lady Lavinia had probably asked Matthew to come and fetch her. She couldn't believe he had come here of his own volition. Not after the way she had behaved on the day of the funeral.
Outside, the Mercedes in which he had picked her up from the airport was waiting, and Matthew swung open the pa.s.senger door with cool civility before walking round to get in beside her.