Guardian to the Heiress (15 page)

“Not that I mind in the least,” Summer broke in. “You did say I could stay, Carol?” she asked, looking embarrassed.

“You’re very welcome, Summer,” Carol said warmly, joining them in front of the glittering tree surrounded by yet-unopened presents. What a Christmas!

“What about your mother and stepfather?” Amanda asked. “Give it to us straight-up. They whizzed past ten minutes ago. We were standing here. Your mother ignored us like we were the lowest of the low. She sure didn’t shout Christmas. But Jeff wished us a merry Christmas. He didn’t look too merry, either. Have they left?” Amada sounded like she was delighted to see them go.

“They have, Amanda. Pressing business for Jeff.”

“Over Christmas?” Amanda’s tone went up a couple of notches. “You’re kidding me.”

“Well, they’ve gone. That’s the bottom line.” She looked them over. “Where are you two going?” Both girls wore casual T-shirts and jeans, trainers on their feet.

“We thought we’d explore,” Amanda said, giving her new best friend a smile. “You have a whole big botanical park out there, and woodlands. Then we plan a bit of a run around. That’s if I can borrow your car. This place is so
beautiful,
Carol. No wonder Troy talks about it all the time.”

“Does he? And there I was thinking he’s strictly an indoors man. Take the car, by all means. It’s not locked. The key is under the mat of the driver’s seat. There’s plenty of petrol. You’ll be back in time for Christmas dinner, of course?”

“You bet!” Both girls said together. This was the ritziest place both could ever imagine.

“By the way, Damon was looking for you,” Amanda said. “You two look great together.”

“Don’t be silly, Amanda. There is absolutely nothing going on between Damon and me. He’s my lawyer and a very good friend.”

Amanda gave her a huge grin. “I reckon he aims to be a whole lot more than that. Friendship doesn’t always continue in a straight line, kiddo. Damon is every girl’s dream.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

C
AROL
WALKED
TO
the rear of the house to the informal living area, a light-filled family area with a series of tall French doors on two walls affording views over the beautiful rear gardens. Maurice, a stony-faced Dallas and their smiling friends were seated comfortably in very comfortable custom-made sofas and armchairs upholstered in cream with a robust blue stripe.

The men jumped to their feet as soon as she walked in. Everyone was appropriately attired for a festive Christmas. She greeted them all pleasantly—even Dallas—wished them a Happy Christmas, made small talk—she was getting very good at it—and told them presents would be opened before Christmas dinner which would start at 2:00 p.m.

“I’m off for a walk now,” she said, giving a parting wave. “See you then.”

“A moment, Carol.” Maurice closed the short distance between them, taking her arm in avuncular fashion. “A few words, if I may?”

“Of course, Uncle Maurice.”

They moved off. The others went back to their conversation. There was lots to talk about. Everyone considered that Maurice Chancellor was behaving in an exemplary manner, considering he had been bypassed by his own father for his young niece. Not that she didn’t look or sound capable of picking up the reins. They had all been surprised by Carol’s considerable intelligence, her grasp on both legal and business matters. She had considerable presence for one so young. A Chancellor, of course, bred in the bone.

Maurice directed Carol to his study, or what had been his father’s study. He continued to use it as his own. His niece—highly intelligent, admittedly—was but a slip of a girl. Would to God he’d had a daughter like that! Troy was such a disappointment, ruined by his mother.

“Take a seat, Carol,” he invited.

She moved into a leather armchair facing the massive desk. Maurice retreated behind it, putting several feet between them. The cedar-panelled room was very impressive. There was a
hush
to it, like an exclusive men’s club.

“You first, Uncle Maurice,” she said, not about to waste a moment on politeness. That was all over. She felt exhausted beyond merely physical. She was mentally exhausted. What more was there for her to learn? Whatever it was, she couldn’t shrink from it.

“Whatever do you mean, ‘you first’?” he asked in astonishment.

“Exactly what I said. I assume you have a problem with my mother’s leaving?”

He actually laughed. “I had a problem with your mother
coming,
my dear girl. Roxanne and I had little to say to each other for years.”

“Far cry from the old days?” she said bluntly.

He appeared staggered. “Carol, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You hoped I’d never remember, didn’t you?” Carol said. “You thought you’d frightened me into forgetting. You shook me and shook me, a five-year-old girl. You
threatened
me, come to that.”

“Carol.” He stretched out an imploring hand.

“Don’t deny it,” she said sharply, jerking back. “The truth is finally out. You and my mother were having an affair. I caught you kissing and fondling one another. Even as a child I knew that was all wrong.”

Maurice Chancellor bent his tawny head, as though in shame. “Carol, I am
so
sorry.”

“Who would believe you?” she said bleakly. “All you and my mother were sorry about was being caught. No wonder Dallas hates her.”

Maurice lifted his head. “Dallas didn’t know.” He sounded emphatic.

“Maybe she didn’t know, but she guessed. The same old story—a woman’s intuition. I don’t even know if the grand affair came to an end after my father’s death.”

“Of course it did. Adam’s death was a tragedy for us all, not just my parents. I was always very envious of Adam—my father and my mother loved him far better than me—but I knew it wasn’t his fault. I loved my brother. I want you to believe that.”

“But you had no difficulty deceiving him with his own wife?”

“God help me, I did,” Maurice groaned. “It was quite unforgivable, I know. But Roxanne was such a temptress, the ultimate provocateur. She does it on purpose, always flaunting her powers. She knew I got nothing much in the way of sex from Dallas—little love from my parents, even from my own son. He’s nothing more than a spoiled rotten dilettante. Roxanne was a
huge
mistake.”

“She said you intended to divorce Dallas.” Carol trained her eyes on him.

“That’ll be the day!” The glance he returned spoke volumes. “I was never going to divorce Dallas. My dear wife knew that well enough. So did Roxanne. Roxanne wasn’t even confident of my brother. Beautiful as she is, Adam was fast falling out of love with her. I understand that now. The sad thing is, Roxanne is indifferent to all feelings other than her own. Surely you’ve noticed? Adam was madly in love with Roxanne when they married. I was totally bewitched myself. In her way, she’s an extraordinary woman.”

“But the spell wears off?” Carol had seen that for herself.

“It certainly wore off with Adam and with me. That episode in my life is blessedly behind me. I shouldn’t be in the least surprised if Roxanne and Jeff are about to call it a day. Jeff is not a happy man.”

“Neither are
you.
Neither is Troy.”

“Now, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Maurice said, leaning forward.

“Then talk.”

“Troy told me he fears Damon Hunter is getting too close to you personally. I have to say, he’s a truly exceptional young man. I like him. He’s extremely clever, ambitious and handsome enough to turn any young woman’s head.”

“Agreed. So Troy came to you with my best interests at heart?”

“Of course. We’re family. You have to be on the alert for fortune hunters, Carol. Hunter by name, hunter by nature. It would be an enormous coup for him. For all his cleverness he doesn’t come from money.
Real
money. His mother ran a catering business, for God’s sake.”

Carol swept his snobbish comments aside. “The jarring truth is Troy, your son, tried to come on to me.” God forbid Troy should be her half brother, she thought with a shudder. “Damon intervened after I gave Troy a good knee in the groin.”

Maurice fell back in his chair. “Well, bully for you! You’re actually telling me Troy tried something on with you?”

“Like father, like son.”

Maurice flushed a dull red. “I deserve that. I had no idea Troy had such feelings. Damn it all, you’re first cousins! Now, don’t you worry about this. I’ll put him straight and I won’t waste time. Incest is just too much.”

“It wouldn’t be that.”

“Close enough in my book.” Maurice Chancellor made a sound of disgust. “That boy is going fast to nowhere. His mother has ruined him. I told her over and over.” He pushed himself to his feet. “You’ve been very badly done by, Carol. But I feared contacting Roxanne to get to you, my niece. I was such a coward on a number of counts. I thought you might remember and start telling people. Some people don’t listen to children. Some do. The thing is we
all
should. That’s it, Carol—your uncle is a coward.”

Carol braced herself. “Do you believe my mother had nothing to do with my father’s death?”

“God, yes! Roxanne went utterly to pieces. It was no play-acting, I assure you.”

“How can you say that when at the will reading you practically accused my mother of wrongdoing and Dallas, needless to say, backed you up?”

He looked briefly sheepish. “A bit of play-acting on my part. I don’t care to get on the wrong side of my dear wife. She knows too much. The thing is, Carol, we all needed someone to blame. My mother especially. She adored Adam. He was the son most sympathetic to her and her oddities. And, let’s face it, she was quite odd. Roxanne didn’t let your father drown, Carol. Roxanne couldn’t do such a thing.”

Couldn’t she?

“Break their hearts, yes,” Maurice continued. “The big trouble was, no one liked Roxanne. Women were very jealous of her. She actually went out of her way to make them jealous. She paid the price.”

“So did your brother. Face up to it,” Carol said in a toneless voice. She hesitated a moment, then plunged in. “You couldn’t possibly be
my
father, could you?”

“What do you say?”
Maurice looked stupefied.

“Think for a moment. My mother was having sex with both of you.”

Maurice Chancellor’s unlined skin turned ruddier as his blood-pressure soared. “I draw the line here, Carol.”

“You should have drawn it
then.
”

“I could
now.
Not a chance
then.
I was still a young man, or young enough. Roxanne reeled me in hook, line and sinker. We
always
used protection.”

“Doesn’t always work,” Carol said dismally.

Maurice walked back behind the desk and dropped down heavily into the swivel chair. “Roxanne suggested this, of course? I see her hand in it.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know herself.”

“Oh, get real!” Maurice was lost in moody contemplation. “Roxanne always has an agenda. She would have blackmailed me. She wanted me to leave Dallas. I told her I
couldn’t.
I didn’t want her to leave Adam, for that matter. It was a mad and utterly despicable interlude. Tell me, when does Roxanne ever accept the word
couldn’t?
”

He had a powerful point. “Would you agree to DNA testing?”

“God, Carol!” He shot her a despairing look.

“For your brother’s sake. For my sake. For your sake. We must determine the truth. Or maybe you think
truth
is a joke word?”

Maurice shook his handsome tawny head. “You
are
your father’s daughter, Carol. Roxanne lives to stir up trouble. She knows how to push everyone’s buttons. She’s jealous of you. You’re young and beautiful—you’ve got so much more in the way of intellect than she ever had. That includes integrity. But, if it sets your mind at rest, I agree to DNA testing.”

* * *

Afterwards she went in search of Damon. Who else did she have to turn to? She was aware Damon had pulled back, as if regretting the massive shift in their relationship. She hoped it was because of his scruples—the thought it might throw a fragile balance into disorder. He was her lawyer and the man her grandfather had appointed to look out for her and her interests. She could understand he would be troubled by the gossip that was already doing the rounds. Amber Coleman had it in for her. So would Troy, now that she had rejected his unwanted advances. Damon had moved a few paces back to combat it. She had to accept he knew what was best for them both, but his decision had left her feeling very forlorn.

Maybe falling in love really was a madness. She hadn’t seen it coming. She had the strong feeling Damon hadn’t see it coming, either. The attraction had taken them by storm. It had been instant and urgent.
Whoever loved that loved not at first sight?
There was overwhelming evidence of that. That didn’t mean the going would be easy or even turn out well. She needed to speak to Damon. She needed his legal advice apart from the comfort of his presence.

She found him in the last place she looked, taking laps of the turquoise pool. As she expected, he was a strong swimmer, with a powerful, even stroke that had him gliding through the water. He didn’t see her until he was pulling himself with ease out of the pool.

“Hi!” She thought she had never seen a better male body. He had such a physicality to him, such a fluid grace of movement, especially for a tall man. His broad, naked chest had a light matting of dark hair, ripples of hard muscle. There was an indent to his waist. His hips were taut. Her eyes ran over his lean, muscled arms, down the straight columns of his legs. As upset as she was, she still felt the erotic disturbances deep inside her. He was just so beautiful to her, one magnificent male creature.

“Hi, yourself!” His teeth were a white flash in his sun-bronzed face. He appeared to be gilded all over. The top band of his black swimming briefs had slipped down a few inches and there was no paler layer of skin. He grabbed a towel. He was quite unselfconscious, drying himself off before securing the towel around his waist. “That was great!” He swept his wetly gleaming dark hair back off his forehead. “Just what I needed. I have to confess, breakfast was so good I ate more than I normally do.”

“And Christmas dinner to come. May I speak to you, Damon?”

“Need you ask?” He indicated two of the upholstered teak lounge chairs set around the perimeter of the pool and the adjoining pool house. Dry enough, he pulled on a white cotton shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. “You look stressed.” She also looked a dream in her gauzy buttercup-yellow dress. To protect her porcelain skin, she wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, decorated with yellow-and-white silk hibiscus on her head. So feminine! That was the romantic look he loved above all.

“Wake-up time, Damon,” she answered, showing a hint of her forlornness. “I know you’ll be as shocked as I was, but my mother came out with an astonishing coda to what I’ve already told you.” She paused, as though unable to go on.

“And?”

“Since I was a child, trauma has trailed me like a shadow—my father’s tragic death, all the gossip about my mother. The trauma has reached a new height. My mother was not only having an affair with Uncle Maurice, she said—”

“Go on,” he urged. “Obviously what she said deeply distressed you.”

She lifted her blue eyes to him, the colour rivalling the burning blue of the sky. “Distress doesn’t cover it. I was stunned out of my mind. She told me she didn’t know for sure if Adam was my father. He could have been Maurice.”

For a split second the ramifications of that exploded in Damon’s head. Carol mightn’t be the Chancellor heiress after all! If so, the will would be overturned. Maurice Chancellor would inherit. That would change
everything.
He could feel free to court her. As it was now, he was acutely aware of the big divide between them—wealth even more than her youth. He knew the guys she dated were fellow students, but Carol was very mature for her age. Within seconds, the bubble burst. His momentary elation was wiped out by her very real distress.