Daughters of Fortune: A Novel (64 page)

Slowly, quietly, she picked up the extension, covering the receiver with her hand so he couldn’t hear.

But it wasn’t Sheri on the other end. Amber blinked in surprise as she heard a familiar voice. It took her a moment to place, but then she realized—it was Uncle Piers. Why on earth was he calling? Through her haze, Amber felt a flash of excitement. Had Daddy asked him to see if she was all right? There had been times over the past few months that she’d wished with all her heart that she’d gone back home to England with Elizabeth. Now, maybe she’d have a second chance.

She was about to speak, to let him know that she was on the line, but some instinct stopped her. There was something about the conversation between her uncle and her boyfriend that didn’t quite make sense.

“My representative is waiting at the hotel,” Piers was saying. “Once you bring the papers, and he has confirmed that they have been properly signed, I will transfer the money directly into your account.”

Johnny coughed nervously. “And this is all legal, right?”

“Perfectly legal,” Piers agreed. “Amber has simply signed a contract authorizing the custodian to sell her shares. No one can dispute that.”

“Fine,” Johnny said, still sounding unsure. “Good. Just tell me again where I need to meet this bloke of yours.”

As carefully as she could, Amber replaced the receiver.

As soon as Johnny left, Amber called her father. When he wasn’t around, she tried Elizabeth, then Caitlin. But she got the same answer every time. They were all unavailable.

“But it’s an emergency!” she told William’s assistant.

The woman sounded unimpressed. “As I said, I’ll pass on your message.”

The problem was, she’d cried wolf too many times. They were used to her calling with one crisis after another. She couldn’t rely on them to get back to her anytime soon. There was only one thing she could do. Go to London herself. She couldn’t help feeling a moment’s exhilaration—her first natural high in a while. This was finally her chance to prove herself.

She booked herself on the next flight. First class was out of her reach, and she maxed out three other cards paying for a last-minute economy fare. While the cab waited outside, she took one last hit—she’d made Johnny show her his stash before he’d left the house. But that wouldn’t be enough. There was the flight, then once she got to London . . . She needed to take something with her.

Amber emptied her Chanel compact, replacing the makeup with a different powder. She hesitated for a second, staring down at the solid silver case—she knew it was risky. Then the cab beeped again outside, and she made her decision. Quickly slipping the compact into her makeup case, she zipped it into her handbag. She probably wouldn’t use it, but she felt better knowing it was there.

“Are you okay, miss?”

Amber opened her eyes and looked up at the concerned face of the flight attendant. She was very far from all right. It was halfway through the thirteen-hour flight to London and, more pressingly, eight hours since her last fix. Withdrawal had set in. Her body was covered with cold sweat, and she was shaking uncontrollably. She looked like she was carrying every major tropical disease.

“I’m fine,” she managed through chattering teeth. “Flu.”

The stewardess gave her an odd look. “Would you like me to get you a blanket?” she asked.

Amber nodded to get the woman off her back. What she needed was to land. Once she got off the plane she could find a ladies’ room and sort herself out. She shivered her way through the next six hours, getting increasingly worse. When the plane landed, they were kept waiting for twenty minutes before finally being allowed to disembark.

Amber was the first off. As she descended the steps she saw three uniformed policeman with a large German Shepard waiting at the bottom of the stairs. There was nothing she could do except continue. She reached the last step and moved to walk by, pretending she hadn’t seen the flight attendant point her out. But a large man in a dark suit, who was standing next to the policemen, stepped forward and placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Miss, would you mind coming this way?”

“So it’s true?” Caitlin said. She felt so disappointed. She hadn’t wanted to hear this. “William had her sacked?”

Nuala looked at her sympathetically. “That’s what she told me. While he was away, the store manager, Miss Harper, asked your mam to leave—and she made it clear that the orders had come from his office.” She reached out and squeezed Caitlin’s hand. “But you can’t hold it against him now. It was such a long time ago.”

“I understand that.” Caitlin was silent for a moment. There was something troubling her about the whole story. “But what I
don’t
understand is how he found out about me?”

Nuala sighed. “Well, you see, your mam had no one to confide in about the baby, except me. I wanted her to tell William about you. She refused at first, but I finally bullied her into it.” The older woman paused to sigh again. “Unfortunately, the night she went to his house . . . well, she saw him with his wife. After that, she decided it would be best to leave well enough alone.” Nuala bit her lip, knowing that the next part wasn’t going to be easy for Katie’s daughter.

“Go on,” Caitlin said steadily. “I need to hear this.”

“It was difficult back then, for someone like your mam, on her own,” Nuala explained. “Back in Ireland, you’d be lucky not to have the baby taken away and be committed to an Asylum for Unwed Mothers. Katie knew all that, of course. She thought about having you adopted at one point, thinking it would be for the best. But she couldn’t do it, God love her,” Nuala added hastily. “I remember telling her she was crazy, but
she insisted she was going to keep you.” The woman looked guiltily at Caitlin then. “It was only because I was worried about her, about how she was going to cope with no money, that I did it.”

“Did what?” Caitlin prompted.

Nuala took a deep breath. “I’d left Melville by then. I was married and pregnant with Róisín; we were talking about moving back here, and I wanted to help your mam. So I went into Melville the week after you were born and asked to see that woman, the store manager. Right there, in the store, I told her what was going on and demanded to see Mr. Melville . . . your father.” Nuala’s eyes glistened with regretful tears. “Of course, Mrs. Harper couldn’t stand the fuss in front of the customers, so she took me upstairs to her office and told me to wait there.”

Caitlin shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Nuala snorted. “Well, as it turned out, he was obviously too busy to see me. It wasn’t
him
who came in twenty minutes later—it was old lady Melville with her younger son. William must have sent them down in his place.”

Alarms began to sound in Caitlin’s head. “You mean, it was Piers and Rosalind you talked to? Not my father?”

“That’s right,” Nuala confirmed. “They addressed me very formally. They’d obviously discussed the situation and decided what they were going to say so that they didn’t implicate themselves in any way. They wouldn’t admit that you were anything to do with William—and, remember, those were the days before DNA tests. But they said that,” Nuala affected an upper-class accent, “as Katie had been a valued employee, they felt for her plight, and that as a token of goodwill the company would be happy to send a check every year on your birthday.” Nuala shook her head in disgust. “A token of goodwill, indeed. Anyway, at least I’d gotten something out of the bastards, or so I thought. But your mam was a proud woman. She was furious when she found out what I’d done, of course. And she refused to ever use that money. Every year those checks came, and every year she ignored them.”

Caitlin’s heart was beating faster. Nuala might not have understood the significance of what she’d said, but she did. “But did it never occur to you that Mrs. Harper fetched them down to see you because they were the ones who’d told her to get rid of my mam in the first place? I mean, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? After all, she was told to go when William was away on holiday. Maybe it was them all along.”

Nuala stared at her for a long moment. “Sweet Jesus,” she breathed. “I’d never thought of that.”

Caitlin called William to tell him what she had found out.

“My mother and Piers?” he repeated disbelievingly. “
They
knew about you?”

“Yes,” Caitlin confirmed quietly.

“But . . . all these years and they never said anything!” He sounded in shock. “Even last week, Piers could have confessed. I told him that you were going back to Valleymount to see Nuala, and he didn’t say a word.”

There was silence. Caitlin didn’t know what to say—she knew how close William and Piers were. “Do you want me to fly back tonight?” she asked finally.

“No,” William said. “No, there’s no need for that. I think I should try to find Piers and see what he has to say about this. I still . . . well, I still can’t quite believe it.”

It was nearly midnight by the time the police allowed Amber to use a phone. She was thinking more clearly now. The on-call doctor had given her some methadone, which had calmed her down. It wasn’t the same as a hit, but it would do. She didn’t even know who to call first. She decided on Elizabeth. She dialed the number, expected to get an answering machine, and couldn’t believe it when her sister actually picked up.

Amber quickly explained what was going on, that Piers had tried to get her shares.

“But don’t worry,” she said proudly. “I took the papers from Johnny’s bag. I’ve got them with me.”

There was a long pause at the end of the phone. When Elizabeth finally spoke, Amber had already guessed what she was going to say.

“It’s too late. I’ve already signed mine over.”

_________

Armand Bouchard and Piers Melville launched their takeover bid on Monday morning. Even without Amber’s shares, Bouchard now had 22.5 percent of the company. If all the public shareholders decided to take his offer, his holding would rise to 52.5 percent—a controlling majority.

The pieces of the puzzle had begun to fall into place over the weekend. After Elizabeth had spoken to Amber, she’d finally worked out that Piers had tricked her. She’d called William and left a calm, dignified—if slightly shaky—message, explaining exactly what had happened and resigning from the board. Since then, no one had been able to get in contact with her. Piers had also gone to ground.

By ten in the morning, the Melville board—with the notable exceptions of Piers and Elizabeth—had all gathered to discuss Bouchard’s offer. Caitlin took her place beside William.

Hugh Makin kicked off. He had obviously been elected to speak on behalf of the other directors. “The majority of us feel that we should recommend the offer to our shareholders,” he said, making it clear a secret meeting had already been held this morning.

Everyone looked at William. The fight had gone out of him. His shoulders were slumped, his head bowed. The betrayal by both his daughter and brother had taken its toll.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he murmured. “Perhaps it’s time to give in.”

“No.”
Caitlin’s voice was loud and clear. She was damned if she was going to let Piers win.

The sales director, Douglas Levan, glared at her. “I hardly think you’re in a position—”

“Let her speak.” William’s voice was weary, but he still had enough command to make the other man fall silent.

“The family still has 47.5 percent of the shares,” Caitlin began. “That means we’re playing for the remaining 30 percent, which is publicly owned. All we need to do is convince shareholders that there’s more value leaving the company in family hands—”

“The offer is 40 percent higher than what the shares are trading for at the moment,” Douglas interjected.

“Yes, but we’re still putting through big changes. There’s potentially a lot more value to be had.” She paused to let her words sink in. “Bouchard is trying to get the company on the cheap. And you guys are going to let him.”

There was silence as the men around the table digested what Caitlin had said. It was William who spoke up. “She’s right. We can’t give in at the first bid. The least we can do for our shareholders is put together a decent defense. Who knows, maybe we’ll win. But, if not, at least we’ll have made the bastard pay through the nose.”

No one could argue with that. As directors, they had to act in the best interests of the shareholders. They would fight, at least for now.

After everyone had gone, Caitlin looked over at William. So much had happened that weekend. By the time they had dealt with Amber and figured out what Bouchard and Piers were up to, they hadn’t had time to discuss what had happened with her mother.

“Look, I want to apologize for not believing you,” she began.

William held up his hand. “Let’s not worry about that now.” His voice was gruff. “I want to focus on saving the company. We can put the soul-searching on hold for when we’ve gotten ourselves out of this mess.”

Caitlin waited for a second and then asked, “Does that include Elizabeth? Because if we’ve got any chance of winning, we’re going to need her help, too.”

It was eleven in the morning, and Elizabeth was still in her robe. She hadn’t opened a paper today and was avoiding the news programs. She couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been, trusting Piers. She had been so desperate to be made chief executive that she had lost everything. She’d betrayed her father and Caitlin, destroyed the company, and, worst of all, pushed Cole away.

The doorbell interrupted her self-flagellation. Part of her hoped it might be her husband, but deep down she knew that was ridiculous—and she was only mildly disappointed when she opened the door and found Caitlin standing there.

“So what do you think?”

It was an hour later, and the two women were sitting in Elizabeth’s kitchen. Caitlin had just outlined her idea for saving the company.

Under the takeover rules, Melville had forty-two days to mount its defense against the bid. When the rumors of a possible takeover had first started, William had insisted on inserting “poison pill” clauses into both his daughters’ contracts. That meant if anyone outside the family acquired over 30 percent of the shares both Caitlin and Elizabeth could leave the company immediately. Caitlin’s idea was to leverage this for all it was worth.