Love’s Duel
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

LEONIE looked up as her friend and associate came excitedly into the room, waving a letter about under her nose. ‘Have you won the pools?’ she teased the older woman.

‘Better than that,’ Emily Dryer said ecstatically. ‘Giles is coming down for the weekend!’

Giles was Emily’s nephew, Leonie knew that. He was senior partner in one of the most exclusive law firms in London, the pride of his doting aunt, and Leonie had heard much of him during her three months of doing the sketches for the short stories for children that Emily wrote. The two of them had met through Emily’s agent; Emily was capable of writing for children but not of illustrating the stories. Despite their forty years’ difference in ages, Leonie being twenty-two and Emily in her sixties, the two women managed to work very well together.

The nephew Giles had been talked about a lot, his virtues outlined for Leonie to enthuse over. He did sound a remarkable man, very young to be the senior partner of a six lawyer firm, their clients some of the most important people in the country. And according to Emily her nephew was much in demand by the ladies, apparently still being a bachelor.

‘He has no use for women,’ Emily had tutted after telling her this.

‘None?’ Leonie teased.

‘I won’t let you embarrass me,’ Emily had fluttered. ‘I’m sure Giles has his—friends, but never anything serious. There’s never been anyone he thought enough of to introduce to me.’

From what Leonie could gather aunt and nephew were very close, so it was feasible to assume that nephew Giles had indeed never found a woman to meet his high standards. Leonie thought he sounded like a supercilious snob, but she would never let Emily know that. Dear Emily, who had treated her like the daughter she had never had. Emily seemed to make a habit of taking people’s children under her wing, taking care of her nephew when her sister had disappeared from his life, and now Leonie was receiving the same care.

‘She was a flighty piece,’ Emily spoke of her sister. ‘She should never have married a barrister. John was much too staid for her.’

From what Leonie could gather from that nephew Giles had been deprived of his mother at an early age. Maybe that accounted for his seemingly solitary existence, his way of finding women an unnecessary encumbrance. Whatever his reason, he didn’t sound a very pleasant individual.

Consequently Leonie had taken a dislike to Emily’s nephew before she had even met him. His profession had been enough to cause her initial dislike, and Emily’s frequent assertions of what a talented barrister he was had intensified those first feelings. Leonie hated lawyers of any kind, hated their way of seeming to be on your side, and then suddenly pouncing on you. She particularly disliked one J. G. Noble, his chilling grey eyes cutting into her like a knife as he reduced her to the level of a common thief preying upon other people’s weaknesses.

But she wouldn’t think of that hateful man, suppressing the shiver of revulsion that rose within her just at the thought of him. She had managed to keep him out of her mind for several weeks now, the nights of waking up in a cold sweat as he called her ‘nothing but a leech, a leech that should be removed from all decent society’, almost becoming a thing of the past.

But she couldn’t blame Emily’s nephew for that, and Emily did look so excited about this surprise visit. Leonie would try to be pleasant about him, if only for Emily’s sake.

‘So nice of him to spare the time to visit his old aunt,’ Emily chattered on. ‘He’s such a busy man.’

Too busy, apparently, to even visit the woman who had been a mother to him since he was five years old. ‘Lawyers often are,’ Leonie said noncommittally.

‘Especially successful ones. Oh, Leonora, it’s going to be so nice having him home again!’

Emily was the only one ever to call her Leonora, claiming from their first meeting that it was much too pretty a name to shorten in that way. Leonie didn’t mind, it reminded her of the way her mother had always done the same thing.

‘When will he be arriving?’ She tried to take an interest in Emily’s much-loved nephew.

The other woman skimmed through the contents of the letter again, the writing large and angular, the signature a single G. ‘He says some time Saturday morning.’

Leonie nodded. ‘Then I’ll make sure I’m gone by about nine.’

‘Gone?’ Emily repeated dazedly. ‘Gone where?’

‘To London for the weekend. You won’t want me here when you have your nephew staying.’ Leonie frowned over the sketch she was just doing, the little boy’s dog looking more like a Shetland pony than an Old English Sheepdog. She worked better without interruptions, but dear Emily did like to sit and have a chat. If only her sketches would come as easily as Emily’s talent for storytelling. But it didn’t, her own minor talent needed much work and sheer hard slog before she had attained her now high standard. But not today, this dog just wasn’t right at all.

‘Nonsense,’ Emily quickly disabused her of the need to go away for the weekend. ‘You’re like part of the family. Besides, Giles has expressed a wish to meet you.’

Leonie’s huge pansy-blue eyes widened. ‘To meet me? Whatever for?’

‘I have no idea. He says—ah, here we are—he says “I look forward with extreme interest to making the acquaintance of your good friend Leonora”. There!’ Emily beamed. ‘Now you can’t disappoint Giles,’ she said as if that settled the matter.

Leonie could indeed disappoint him, in fact she had no choice. And she felt sure that nephew Giles’s ‘extreme interest’ was in fact only a polite acknowledgement of that fact that he knew she even existed. Leonie had seen the chatty letters Emily wrote her nephew, and she had noticed the way Emily was always quoting her. If Giles was the bumptious prig she thought he was then he wasn’t in the least interested in the opinions of his aunt’s working colleague. But poor Emily didn’t seem to realise that, insisting that Giles liked to receive her letters. The fact that she only received answers to one in every three never seemed to bother her.

‘I have to, Emily,’ she lessened the disappointment with a smile. ‘Don’t you remember, I told you weeks ago I would be away this weekend?’

Emily looked vague. ‘Did you?’

‘Yes,’ Leonie insisted patiently. ‘My brother is coming home.’ She bit her lip. ‘I said I’d go and see him on Saturday.’

‘So you did. Oh, bother!’ Emily looked annoyed. ‘And I did so want you to meet Giles. I’m sure the two of you will get along famously.’

‘Another time,’ Leonie excused, sure that she and Giles wouldn’t get along ‘famously’ at all. Giles probably put everyone he met through his own private trial, and Leonie had had enough of courtrooms to last her a lifetime. ‘I’m sure there will be other opportunities for us to meet,’ she added politely.

Emily obviously wasn’t pleased, although she remained very excited about her nephew’s visit, throwing the whole house into an uproar as she made ready for his arrival.

By Saturday morning Leonie was pleased to get away, and get her battered Mini out of the garage. As she drove down the long driveway she had to veer sharply to the left; the huge monster of a car coming in the opposite direction was not willing to give an inch as it whooshed past her. She turned to glare at the driver of the Rolls-Royce, receiving only a glimpse of the back of a dark head, as the driver had not given her a second glance.

That had to be nephew Giles, she knew Emily wasn’t expecting anyone else this morning. At least Emily would be pleased, he had arrived earlier than she had expected. But as far as Leonie was concerned his manners could use a little working on.

She forgot all about nephew Giles, her thoughts going forward to Phil. She hadn’t seen him for four years. He had refused all her offers to visit him, so she had no idea of his reaction to her going to see him this weekend.

He didn’t seem to understand why she wanted to see him, telling her in the two letters she had received from him in the last four years that it would be better if they didn’t meet again. Phil felt guilty about his treatment of her, she realised that, but he was the only relative she had left in the world.

Four years… God, it was a lifetime! Four years when she had had to live with the knowledge that Phil, her stepbrother, had used the love she felt for Jeremy Lindsay for his own ends. She had gone out with Jeremy in all innocence, a naïve eighteen-year-old to his sophisticated forty, never guessing that he was married, that he had a daughter a year younger than she was.

But Phil had known, and he had tried to capitalise on it. The first Leonie had known of his interference in her life had been when Jeremy had suddenly stopped seeing her, his haughty secretary always putting her off when she called him, telling her he was busy or that he wasn’t in the office. The next thing to happen had been her own and Phil’s arrest—for blackmail! The fact that she had denied all knowledge of Phil’s intention, and that he had backed her claim, had made no difference to the police. She had been charged along with Phil.

And J. G. Noble had crucified her in court. Oh, he had been so charming to start with, smiling at her, pretending her believed her—and then he had pounced. All the charm had gone, the warm grey eyes turned flinty, his magnetic good looks became harsh as he verbally ripped her to shreds—and she hadn’t been able to do a thing about it.

She hated John Noble with a fierceness that hadn’t abated with time, hated the way he had sneered at her morals, the way he had derided her. She had watched the blaze of fury in his eyes as she was set free, the court believing her plea of innocence.

But she would never forget her shame, never forget the humiliation she had suffered in that courtroom as the intimate details of her friendship with Jeremy were revealed to everyone in the room. J. G. Noble had taken great pleasure in telling of every single kiss, every caress she had ever shared with Jeremy, had watched with contempt as she squirmed in her seat, her face bright red.

Jeremy had been in court too, sitting beside a pretty redhaired woman, his wife for the last twenty years. Leonie had believed him when he told her he loved her, had willingly succumbed to his practised seduction. Just how practised she had soon found out. Apparently the Lindsays were one of those couples who had an ‘open’ marriage, each partner indulging in the odd affair while still remaining married to each other. Leonie had just been another affair to Jeremy, whereas she had believed him to be the love of her life.

Her love had died as surely as all trust in the male gender had died, and over the years she had built a wall around her emotions that was as hard as steel. Only Tom had ever been able to penetrate that shell, dear sweet Tom who had asked for nothing except that she be his wife.

Almost in London now, she looked up the address Phil had given her, although it still took some finding. Phil had a room in one of the old houses that were still very much a part of London, the rent seeming exorbitant to Leonie. But as Phil had pointed out in his letter, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The house was definitely not what she would have called luxurious, although the decor seemed quite good for a house of this age. By the time she reached the third floor she had passed one room with a child screaming at the top of its lungs, and the room just below Phil’s had pop music blaring out so loudly it was impossible to identify song or singer. The place was a madhouse!

There was no answer to her first knock, although she could hear some signs of movement as she knocked again. The door opened slowly and a bleary-eyed Phil stood in the doorway.

He was a vastly changed Phil, his boyish features seeming to have hardened, his face gaunt. There was an air of aggression about him that made it difficult for Leonie to relate him to the boy she had grown up hero-worshipping.

She had adored him all her life, had trailed after him as a child with big worshipping eyes. When he had gone away to university she had been heartbroken, her joy immense when he had suddenly arrived home again a year later. Her mother and father had been furious, and at the time Leonie hadn’t realised the seriousness of his being thrown out. She realised now that he had always had a wild restless streak in him, a craving for danger and excitement. Her parents hadn’t understood his behaviour at all, and when he moved to London they had been secretly relieved.

But Leonie and Phil had remained close through the years, had become even more important to each other when their parents were killed in a plane crash. She had even travelled up some weekends from the little Berkshire village she had lived in all her life to stay in London with Phil. It had been during one of these visits that she had met Jeremy at a party. He had been so much older than her, so sophisticated and self-assured that she hadn’t stood a chance when he had singled her out for his attention.

‘Leonie…’ Phil greeted her now, leaning heavily on the door, wearing only a towelling robe.

She gave a shaky smile. ‘I—er—I said I’d call on you today. Did you get my letter?’

‘Yes, I got it,’ he acknowledged gruffly, his blond good looks harsh. He was in need of a shave and a shower, although he seemed unconcerned by his appearance.

Leonie bit her lip, her blue eyes deeply shadowed, her bottom lip trembling. She felt strangely vulnerable standing here—and very unwelcome. Phil’s mood was resentful, as it had been the first time they had met. She had been four and he twelve, their parents having just married each other and so made them brother and sister. It had taken years for Phil to accept her as such, and now it looked as if he no longer wanted to continue such an unreal relationship as stepbrother and stepsister.

‘Aren’t you pleased to see me, Phil?’ she asked tremulously.

‘I told you not to come, Leonie,’ he scowled.

‘But——’

‘Phil, are you coming back to bed?’ called a husky female voice.

Colour flooded Leonie’s cheeks. She hadn’t thought of him not being alone or still in bed—after all, it was nearly lunchtime. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said jerkily. ‘I didn’t realise…’ She turned away, tears in her eyes.

A hand came out to grasp her wrist as Phil pulled her round to face him. ‘What did you expect, Leonie?’ he taunted. ‘I’ve been away from women for the last four years.’

‘Yes.’ Her eyes were haunted.

He moved impatiently, his features twisted into bitterness. ‘Stop trying to make me feel guilty. You always could, you know, just with one glance from those baby blue eyes. Even when we were younger I succumbed to those blue eyes and your hair like the gold of an angel.’ He touched it gently. ‘You used to wear it long, Leonie, why did you have it cut?’

She swallowed hard, aware that they were tentatively reaching out towards each other. ‘Tom thought it was prettier this way,’ she faltered.

‘Tom? Oh yes, your husband.’ Phil ran a tired hand across his eyes. ‘Why did you come here, Leonie? I asked you not to. We don’t have anything to say to each other.’

She put her hand on his arm, her fingers long and tapered, the nails kept short for her work. ‘You’re my brother, Phil,’ her eyes implored him. ‘Of course I’d want to see you.’

‘I’m not your brother, I’m not even related to you, your mother just happened to marry my father.’ He shook off her hand.

‘Phil!’ The female voice was petulant now.

He gave a deep sigh. ‘Now isn’t convenient, Leonie,’ he said tersely, glancing pointedly behind him.

‘No,’ she agreed huskily.

‘Look, I’ll meet you in—say, an hour. There’s a café just down the road from here, Pete’s it’s called. Go and have a cup of coffee and I’ll see you there later.’

Leonie turned away, feeling slightly sick. Phil had changed, toughened, his mood very bitter. And that he wasn’t pleased to see her was obvious.

‘Leonie!’ Phil’s voice was sharp as he halted her.

She turned slowly. ‘Yes?’

‘Will you be there?’ Some of his boyish charm broke through, some of the Phil she had grown up with.

‘Do you want me to be?’

‘Yes,’ the admission was forced out of him.

‘All right,’ she gave a shaky smile. ‘An hour.’

She was sitting at a window table when Phil arrived at the café fifty minutes later, having already drunk two cups of coffee, receiving curious looks from the waitress as she continued to sit here. Phil looked a little better now, freshly shaven, his overlong hair combed into some sort of order.

He sat down opposite her, searching her pale features. ‘I’m sorry, Leonie,’ he said huskily. ‘I ought to be shot. After all this time you still cared enough to come here, and I act like the swine I am. I really am sorry, Leonie, for everything.’

‘I know that.’

‘I don’t see how,’ he grimaced. ‘I’ve done nothing to give you that impression.’

‘You’re my brother—You are, Phil,’ she insisted as he went to protest. ‘Mum and Dad would have wanted us to stick together.’

‘Not after what I did to you. And that bastard Noble!’ he swore savagely. ‘God, he was a vindictive swine! I’ll never forget the way he talked to you, the way he made you appear no better than a——’

‘Yes, Phil,’ she interrupted with a shiver; Phil had voiced the painful memories she had thought of only hours ago. ‘I’ve never forgotten him either.’

‘Handsome devil, wasn’t he?’

Leonie looked startled. She had never thought of the lawyer as being handsome, had only ever had nightmares about the condemnation in his accusing grey eyes, the rest of the man had faded into a haze. But she thought of him now, remembered the black hair, the way even at thirty-five he already had grey wings of colour at his temples. His eyes had been piercing, his nose slightly aquiline, with a thin mouth, the lower lip slightly sensual although kept firmly in check. He was a tall man, who had always worn a pin-striped black suit to court, his linen immaculate, his hands long and tapered, the nails kept short and clean.

He had been a man untainted by crime himself, and had no patience or pity with anyone who was. He believed her to be guilty and so she was, it was as simple as that.

‘Leonie?’ Phil prompted at her continued silence.

She gave a quick, nervous smile. ‘Sorry—bad memories.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ he grimaced. ‘He made mincemeat of you. Still, I’m glad you got off in the end.’

‘We aren’t here to talk about me, Phil,’ she said briskly. ‘I want to know how you are.’

He shrugged. ‘Unemployed.’

She sighed, ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘I know, love. I’m fine. A little older, a lot wiser.’

‘Really?’ Her look was piercing.

‘Really. Oh, I know it didn’t look that way this morning, but Wanda is a special friend.’

‘You don’t have to explain that to me. It has nothing to do with me.’

‘Yes, it does.’ He fidgeted with the salt-pot in the middle of the table. ‘I was damn rude to you earlier.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Nothing mattered now except that she and Phil were actually talking to each other again. After this morning she hadn’t thought it was possible.

‘It matters.’ He put the salt-pot down, looking at her across the table. ‘You’re my little sister, Leonie. I wish you didn’t have to see me like this. And you should hate me—I used you.’

‘I don’t hate you.’ She put her hand over his. ‘I never could. Jeremy wasn’t what I thought he was anyway. Although that doesn’t excuse what you did,’ she added hastily.

‘If it’s any consolation, I paid for it, Leonie. It’s no picnic being in jail.’

‘No, I’m sure.’ He didn’t exactly look as if he had been having a good time.

‘How’s your life been?’ He studied her. ‘You’re looking well.’

Looks can be deceptive. Oh, she was attractive enough, her hair was short and wavy, very blonde, her eyes deeply blue and fringed by long dark lashes, her nose small and pert, her mouth wide and generous, her neck long and slender, her figure petite in the brown silky dress, her legs long and shapely, shown to advantage in high-heeled sandals. And yet she wasn’t happy, the wide and generous mouth hardly ever smiled, and there was an unhappy droop to her slender shoulders.

‘What was your husband like?’ Phil asked at her continued silence.

‘Kind,’ she replied without hesitation.

‘And?’

‘And we were very happy together.’ She looked down at her empty coffee cup.

‘You didn’t answer my first question,’ Phil prompted softly. ‘What was he like?’

‘He was—older than me——’

‘How much older?’ her stepbrother cut in, his eyes narrowed.

‘Quite a bit,’ she evaded. ‘He was a widower, very lonely, and——’

‘You kept each other company,’ Phil derided.

‘He was kind,’ Leonie said firmly.

‘But he died.’

‘Yes. We—we had been married about a year and he—he had a terminal disease. But at least he was happy at the end, I made sure of that.’

She hadn’t wanted to become involved with any man, she had shunned them all, but a year after the trial she had met Tom. He had seemed to need her, and in a way she had needed him. He had taught her to live again, had given her a reason for living, and he had loved her very much, despite knowing the truth about her past.

Phil sat back. ‘I wonder what Noble would have made of your marrying a man so much older than you, especially as Tom died only a year later,’ he shook his head.

It wasn’t hard to imagine John Noble’s reaction to that. A man like him would never understand the genuine affection that had prompted her to marry Tom. ‘I can imagine,’ she grimaced. ‘But I wasn’t left a rich woman, so at least he couldn’t throw that in my face.’

‘That man could make a nun look corrupt!’

‘Only because he has a mind like a sewer,’ Leonie snapped.

‘You really hate him, don’t you?’

‘Hate is too mild a word,’ she said vehemently. ‘What I feel for him can’t be put into mere words. And Jeremy was as bad, sitting there with that smug look on his face, letting that man say all those lies about me. And they were lies, Phil. I never——’

‘I know, love,’ he consoled gently. ‘I know you too well ever to believe such things of you. If only I’d known of Lindsay’s arrangement with his wife! I would never have approached him if I’d known. I’d been gambling heavily, I needed money, and a Harley Street doctor, a married one at that, seemed like a godsend to me.’

‘And instead you found he was quite proud of his sexual encounters,’ Leonie remembered bitterly. ‘It certainly hasn’t done his practice much harm. I’ve heard that he’s had to turn new patients away because his book are full—and all of these patients were female,’ she added dryly.

‘Some women!’ Phil scorned. ‘The only one who seems to have really suffered out of this is you, and you were completely innocent of the whole thing.’

‘I wouldn’t call your time in prison getting off lightly.’

‘I deserved it. But it’s taught me something.’

‘What’s that?’ she asked eagerly.

‘Never to get caught again.’ He laughed at her expression. ‘That was a joke, Leonie.’

She gave a wan smile. ‘It’s never seemed particularly funny to me.’

‘Or me,’ he was serious now. ‘I really have learnt my lesson. I’d been playing on the edge of crime for some time before Lindsay stopped me. Going to prison was a very unpleasant experience, and I don’t intend ever going back again.’

‘What will you do about work?’ she asked worriedly. ‘You said you were unemployed.’

‘I’m starting a job on Monday. They got it for me through the prison, so my employers know my background.’ He shrugged. ‘If they’re willing to give me a try then I think I owe it to them to do my best. I’ll be a success, Leonie, you’ll see.’

‘If you need money——’

‘No! No, I have enough.’ He smiled. ‘Just because you’re rich now it doesn’t mean I’m willing to let you help me out. I have to stand on my own two feet, even if I fall over a couple of times.’

‘I’m not rich, Phil,’ she smiled at the description. ‘But if you need help——’

‘I don’t,’ he told her firmly. ‘I’m starting the way I mean to go on, with a clear conscience.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘But I’ll let you buy me lunch if you like.’

‘I like,’ she smiled back.

They relaxed with each other much more over the meal, laughing together as they used to, and Phil made Leonie feel young again, taking her back to the happy childhood they had shared together.

‘When did you start drawing?’ Phil asked as they finished their meal. ‘I remember you were always good at art, but you never mentioned taking it up as a profession.’

‘That was Tom’s idea. He was an art teacher at one of the colleges, and he encouraged me to develop what talent I have.’

‘It seems to have paid off.’

‘Yes.’ Much more successfully than she had ever imagined.

‘What’s Emily Dryer like? God, do you know I can remember reading her books way back in my childhood,’ he said ruefully. ‘I used to like the way the kids in her stories could always get filthy dirty and get away with it. Mum and Dad used to give me a good hiding if I came home like that.’

‘Only because you used to do it all the time,’ Leonie smiled. ‘And Emily is the kindest woman I ever knew. Next to Mum she’s the woman I love the best.’

‘Then she must be nice.’

‘She is,’ she confirmed huskily. ‘A little on the forgetful side now, but absolutely full of energy. She leaves me standing when we go for a walk together, and at the end of the day when I’m ready to collapse she’s still going strong. The woman she used to work with died, and for a while Emily stopped working. But she has too much talent to stop for ever, and so six months ago she took up her pen again. She had two other girls helping her before me, and neither of them worked out, but when we met everything seemed to click into place.’ Leonie shrugged. ‘I’m happy there.’

‘And you’ve put the past behind you?’

She repressed a shiver, the past had never seemed so painful as it had been today. First there had been the fact that Emily’s nephew was a lawyer, and then seeing Phil again after all this time, both had reminded her very strongly of the past, of the nightmares that were never far away. The past could never be forgotten, it could only be accepted, and she was nowhere near accepting it yet.

‘I’m happy,’ she evaded a direct answer. ‘And especially so now I have you back,’ she smiled at him. ‘Can we spend the evening together, or are you going out?’

‘With Wanda, you mean?’ he grimaced. ‘She thought you were another girl-friend this morning. It took some time to convince her you were my sister.’ His face darkened. ‘I could have killed Noble for implying any other sort of relationship between us!’

Leonie had forgotten that, forgotten John Noble’s implication that her relationship with Phil was more than just that of stepbrother and stepsister, the way he had hinted at them being lovers and preying on the affections of a besotted man. God, she thought, that man’s mind was worse than a sewer, it was totally warped.

‘So we can spend the evening together.’ She pushed all thoughts of John Noble to the back of her mind, wishing she could forget about him altogether.

‘And tomorrow too, if you like,’ Phil took his cue from her.

In the end they spent all of the weekend together, and Leonie was glad to discover that Phil’s veneer of toughness was only skin-deep, that underneath he was still her much-loved brother. By the time she drove back to Kent she was a lot more relaxed, and Phil seemed more inclined to seeing her again.

She was surprised to see the plum-coloured Rolls-Royce still in the driveway when she arrived back at Rose Cottage late on Sunday evening. She smiled to herself as she remembered the way she had looked for Emily’s cottage when she had come down for the first meeting, only to discover that the ‘cottage’ was a huge house, albeit surrounded by a veritable orchard of roses. Emily was an eccentric, and if she wanted to call her home Rose Cottage then that was exactly what she could call it.

Leonie let herself into the house with her own key, hearing the murmur of voices in the lounge. She would have to go in and say hello to Emily’s nephew, although after that long drive she wasn’t really in the mood to be sociable.

Emily came out of the lounge, closing the door behind her. She smiled as she saw Leonie. ‘There you are, my dear. I was getting quite worried about you. Did you have a nice time with your brother?’

‘Lovely, thank you, Emily.’ She slipped off her jacket, the navy blue trousers and blouse she had worn for the drive still looking bandbox fresh. ‘Have you had a nice weekend?’

‘Oh yes,’ Emily glowed. ‘I’m just going to make some coffee, would you like some?’

‘Let me do it,’ Leonie instantly offered.

‘Certainly not,’ Emily replied indignantly. ‘I’m perfectly capable of making a pot of coffee. You’re as bad as Giles! I’m not incapable, you know. He says I should slow down, that I work too hard.’

‘Well, you do,’ she agreed gruffly, knowing Emily wasn’t going to like her saying it.

‘I have to work, it’s what I like doing best.’ She sighed. ‘Now I’m not going to let you upset me. Go along into the lounge and introduce yourself to Giles.’ She marched off into the kitchen.

With a shrug Leonie turned to open the lounge door. Emily’s last words had bordered on an order, and it sounded as if her nephew might have upset her once today already. Emily was a dear, but she didn’t like criticism of any kind, especially about the hours she worked. Obviously nephew Giles had touched upon this sensitive subject.

A man rose from the chair beside the fire as Leonie entered the room, a man who left her gasping, a man who was shockingly familiar, a man with the cruellest eyes she had ever seen, and that man was John Noble!

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU!’ His eyes went black with recognition, his expression one of unsuppressed fury.

Leonie was deathly white, almost a sickly grey. It was like all her nightmares coming true in one terror-stricken minute. The chances of her ever meeting John Noble again had been highly unlikely, and yet here he was in Emily Dryer’s lounge, could in reality only be Emily’s dearly loved nephew Giles.

He looked much older, the wings of grey hair at his temples more pronounced, although at thirty-nine this was only to be expected; his eyes were more flinty than she remembered, his mouth more cruel, his face all strong angles, his body lean in the dark grey trousers and black fitted shirt. He was tall and powerful, and he towered over Leonie like an avenging angel.

He took a step towards her, the savagery in his face increasing as she flinched away from him. He caught hold of her arm, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded angrily. ‘What are you doing in my aunt’s house?’

Her hope that perhaps there had been some ghastly mistake, that perhaps this wasn’t nephew Giles went crumbled into the dust. Nephew Giles and John Noble were the same man! If she could have said anything at all in that moment it would probably have come out as an hysterical laugh, but her voice seemed locked in her throat, only her eyes able to mirror her fear and shock, her utter terror.

‘Answer me, damn you!’ He shook her hard, uncaring of the bruises he was inflicting through the silkiness of her blouse.

Whether she would finally have been able to speak she never afterwards knew, for at that moment Emily bustled into the room, the tray of coffee in her hands. For all his fury John Noble was still able to move forward and take the tray from his ageing aunt, placing it on the low table that stood in front of the sofa.

‘I wasn’t long, was I?’ Emily chattered as she poured out the three cups of coffee. ‘Have the two of you introduced yourselves?’ She looked up enquiringly.

Leonie swallowed hard, sure that she must look terrible. ‘I——’

‘No,’ John Noble said tautly. ‘No, we haven’t.’ His expression was grim as it raked mercilessly over Leonie’s slender figure.

She twisted her hands nervously together under that insolent appraisal, wishing she could tell what he was thinking, but his thoughts were as enigmatic today as they had been in court four years ago. If anything he looked even more haughty, more arrogant.

‘This is my nephew Giles, Leonora,’ said Emily with a smile, unaware of the waves of antagonism passing between the other two. ‘He’s John really,’ she confided. ‘But as his father was also called John we’ve always called him Giles.’

Except in court! In court he had been John G. Noble. Well, at least now she knew what the G. stood for! This man, this hateful, sarcastically cruel man, was Emily’s beloved nephew. Either Emily was unaware of the harshness in him or else she knew of it and excused it. Knowing Emily it would be the latter, she always had sympathy and understanding for the unpleasant quirks in people’s natures.

‘And this is Leonora,’ she announced proudly.

‘Leonora…?’ Giles Noble raised an enquiring eyebrow.

‘Carter,’ Leonie supplied in a stilted voice.

His piercing gaze went to the simple gold band that encircled her wedding finger. ‘Ah yes,’ he drawled. ‘You’re a widow.’

‘Leonora lost her husband two years ago,’ his aunt supplied. ‘Such a shame for one so young.’

‘Yes.’ Giles took the proffered cup of coffee. ‘When you spoke of your widowed friend Leonora, Aunt, I naturally assumed her to be a—lady of your own age.’

‘Did you, dear?’ Emily said vaguely. ‘But I’m sure I mentioned how young and pretty she is.’

‘No, you never did.’ Giles Noble’s mouth twisted, his gaze rapier-sharp as it raked over every inch of Leonie’s body.

He was doing it again, but now he was stripping her not only of her pride but of her clothes too. She had never seen that insultingly familiar look in any man’s eyes before, never felt such degradation at a man’s glance. Her humiliation was complete as with a contemptuous twist of his lips he turned away.

‘Oh well, it doesn’t matter,’ his aunt smiled brightly. ‘I’m sure the two of you will be good friends.’

Leonie almost choked over her coffee at the unlikelihood of that happening. Her hand shook as she returned the cup to its saucer, her fear a tangible thing. This man was her tormenter, the evoker of all her night-time fears, and yet she could feel his magnetism as strongly as she had in the courtroom, knew that once again he was swallowing her up, absorbing her personality, reducing her to the naïve child she had still been four years ago when she first met him.

Giles Noble looked at her again. ‘My aunt tells me you’ve been to see your brother this weekend. I believe he has been—away?’ his voice taunted her.

‘I—er—Yes.’ She stared down at her hands, her breath catching in her throat as she waited for him to speak again, for that cold clipped voice that could be silkily soft when he wanted it to be to rip into her once again.

‘Where?’ he asked finally.

She drew a ragged breath, raising her head slowly. ‘He’s been—working abroad,’ her eyes met his challengingly. ‘On an oil-rig,’ she added defiantly.

‘Really?’ Giles Noble drawled slowly. ‘How interesting—for him.’

Leonie swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’

‘Why don’t you both sit down?’ Emily asked from the sofa. ‘I don’t like you both towering over me like this.’

‘Sorry, Aunt. Mrs Carter…?’ He waited for Leonie to be seated before sitting himself, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his position relaxed.

Leonie sat in a daze, wondering why he didn’t just expose her to his aunt. He knew damned well Phil hadn’t been working abroad, he could do his arithmetic as well as he did everything else, and he knew very well Phil had just been released from prison. And yet he said nothing. What sort of cat-and-mouse game was he playing with her now?

‘I’m sure you can call her Leonie, Giles,’ Emily was still unaware of the tension between them. ‘Can’t he, dear?’

‘Leonie?’ he repeated softly. ‘But I thought your name was Leonora?’

She bit her lip. ‘It is. Emily just—prefers to call me that.’

‘It’s too pretty to shorten,’ Emily put in.

‘Most people call me Leonie,’ she said firmly.

‘Do they indeed?’ Giles slowly drawled.

‘Yes!’ she snapped, her tension almost at breaking point.

‘Then so shall I. You see, dear Aunt, I happen to think Leonie is a much prettier name.’

Thank goodness for that. She could still remember the contemptuous way he had called her Leonora in court. At least she was to be spared that.

‘Does your brother enjoy his work on the oil-rig?’ Giles Noble asked suddenly.

Leonie visibly jumped, the question unexpected—as he had known it would be. He was still the lawyer, throwing her off guard, tricking her. ‘He’s left now. He has a job in London.’ Why didn’t he just say that he knew it was all a pack of lies, that her stepbrother was a jail-bird?

He nodded, his expression mocking. ‘You’ll be able to see more of him, one presumes.’

‘Yes.’

‘That will be nice, for both of you. I’m sure it can’t have been all that comfortable where he’s been.’

‘Don’t be silly, dear,’ his aunt chided. ‘They have all the conveniences on those places nowadays.’

‘So they do,’ he gave a slight smile, even white teeth visible between those firm lips. ‘Except women. I suppose your brother was living it up this weekend?’

Leonie gave him a cold look, the memory of Wanda in Phil’s room still an embarrassing one. ‘We spent a quiet weekend together,’ she informed him resentfully.

Those firm lips tightened, the eyes glacial. ‘I’m sure you did.’

‘I don’t like to hurry you, Giles,’ his aunt cut in, ‘but it’s after eleven, and you have a long drive in front of you. I do wish you would leave it until morning, I don’t like to think of you driving all that way in the dark.’

Giles stretched his long legs. ‘I do it all the time when you don’t know about it, Aunt Emily.’

‘Well, I know, but the point of that is that I don’t know about it. I shall only worry,’ she added persuasively.

‘Actually, Aunt, I’ve been thinking of taking you up on your offer to stay an extra night. I don’t have to be in court until tomorrow afternoon, I could drive up after breakfast.’

‘Oh, that’s a splendid idea!’ his aunt clapped her hands together with pleasure. I’ll just go up and check that Dorothy hasn’t stripped your bed. She has a habit of getting things done before you want her to.’ She bustled out of the room, a worried frown on her brow.

Leonie gulped, glancing over at Giles Noble, hurriedly looking away again as she saw he was looking right back at her, his expression unreadable.

Suddenly he stood up, his movements restless. ‘Of course you know why I’m staying on,’ he said coldly.

‘Yes,’ Leonie didn’t attempt to prevaricate.

‘So your brother is out of prison now,’ he remarked quietly.

‘I’m surprised you remember us,’ she said tautly. ‘After all, you’ve prosecuted in much more important cases than ours.’

‘But I’ve never lost one that was quite so cut and dried,’ he told her contemptuously.

‘You didn’t lose,’ she gasped. ‘Phil went to prison because of you.’

‘And you walked away free.’ His eyes were narrowed.

‘But not because of you,’ she scorned.

‘No, you would have got life if I’d had my way!’

‘Life?’ she repeated dazedly. ‘Even if I had been guilty, which I wasn’t, I certainly didn’t deserve life!’

‘I happen to think you did.’

‘That was obvious,’ Leonie snapped.

‘You were guilty, Leonie.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘The court didn’t seem to agree with you.’

He shrugged. ‘Unfortunately they can’t always be right. Most of the time, yes, but not always.’

‘This time they were!’ she told him vehemently.

His look was dismissive of such a claim. ‘The wedding ring on your finger, is it real?’

‘Of course it’s real! You——’

‘You mean there was a Mr Carter?’ He sounded sceptical.

‘Yes, there was a Mr Carter!’

‘And he walked out on you.’

‘No, he died. You already know I’m a widow.’

‘You’ve lied before, you could be lying now. I had no idea my aunt’s friend Leonora was really Leonora Gordon, the girl who——’

‘Mr Noble,’ Leonie cut in stiffly, ‘my past is my affair. The fact that you happen to know about it shouldn’t make any difference.’

‘But it does,’ he said silkily soft. ‘Don’t you think my aunt is entitled to know that her trusted friend was once prosecuted by me on behalf of her lover?’

‘He was not my lover!’ she denied heatedly, her initial fear now fading to anger. She didn’t have to take this abuse from him, she was no longer on trial.

‘Wasn’t he?’ Giles Noble’s mouth twisted scornfully. ‘Jeremy tells a different story.’

‘I’m sure he does,’ she said disgustedly. ‘He has a reputation to maintain.’

‘You aren’t trying to tell me that he made all that up? Because if you are I should save your breath; he went into the affair in great detail. I probably know as much about you as he does.’

Leonie’s face blazed with colour and she felt sick. She had allowed Jeremy to touch her more intimately than any other man had done, might even eventually have slept with him, but she hadn’t. She hadn’t! That he had invented the details of their affair she knew, and it was obvious that Giles Noble believed every word.

‘Why should his story be any more believable than mine?’ she challenged. ‘It takes two, you know.’

‘So I heard.’ Once again his mouth twisted with contempt.

‘Mr Noble——’

Emily came back into the room, beaming at them both. ‘For once Dorothy hasn’t been quite so efficient. Your bed is still made up, Giles.’

‘Then I suggest we all retire for the night,’ he said smoothly, showing none of his animosity towards Leonie in front of his aunt.

Leonie was only too glad to go to bed, although she couldn’t sleep once she was prepared for bed, pacing the room as she wondered what Giles Noble’s next move would be. She was surprised he hadn’t given her away to his aunt at once, although his remark about his aunt being entitled to know seemed to point to him not being silent for much longer.

What would happen when he told Emily, dear kind Emily who tried never to believe a bad word about anyone? Well, she couldn’t be sacked, not directly, she was contracted by the publishing company and not by Emily herself, and yet things could be made so unpleasant for her here that she would have to leave. And if she left she would be in breach of contract. Because Emily couldn’t work without her illustrator in residence it had been written into Leonie’s contract that she had to live at Rose Cottage. At the time of signing the contract she hadn’t minded moving in here, but now it wouldn’t be possible for her to stay.

She still hadn’t got over the shock of seeing John Giles Noble again. She must have had a premonition of this meeting, why else had he been so much in her thoughts the last few days? He had it within his power to hurt her unbearably, to strip her of all the quiet happiness she had managed to attain for herself the last few years. All her security had been taken from her in a single moment. At the first glimpse of those steely grey eyes after four years she had known that Giles Noble wouldn’t let her escape without making her suffer all that humiliation once again.

She spun around as her bedroom door slowly opened, her eyes opening wide as Giles Noble quietly entered. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it, his arms folded across his chest. Leonie pulled her silky bathrobe more securely about her, making sure the belt was firmly tied. Not that she feared any moves from him in that direction, he had made his contempt of her very clear. No, it had been an involuntary action on her part, and one that seemed to give him amusement.

‘What do you want?’ she demanded.

‘What sort of question is that to ask the man who’s just entered your bedroom?’ he drawled, moving to slowly look around the bedroom she had made her own.

‘This man, a very relevant one,’ she retorted in an angry whisper. ‘And could you lower your voice, your aunt may hear us?’

Giles shrugged, picking up her black lacy bra from the chair and putting it down again with a quirk of his eyebrows. ‘I don’t need to talk at all,’ he said softly. ‘Neither of us does—unless you’re one of those women who like to talk.’

Leonie gasped. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Jeremy told me all about you, Leonie.’ He was advancing towards her like a predator after its prey, and for once those grey eyes were not icy but held a warm glowing invitation.

‘If he told you all about me then you should know whether or not I like to talk,’ she scorned to hide her fear. This was the last thing she had been expecting from this man, and she didn’t know how to cope with it—unless she was sick all over him. She couldn’t allow him to touch her, she cringed just at the thought of it.

‘He didn’t mention it.’ Giles’s eyes were on her parted lips. ‘But he mentioned a lot of other things.’

‘I’m sure he did. Did he also mention that he’s a liar?’ she said shrilly.

‘Oh, come on, Leonie, isn’t it time you stopped this game now?’

‘Game?’ she swallowed hard. ‘What game?’

‘Four years ago we were attracted to each other.’ He was standing so close to her now his thighs were touching hers. ‘Don’t make me wait any longer to touch you.’

‘T-touch me?’

‘Yes.’ His hand ran from her breast to her thigh. ‘You’re more slender than you were then,’ he looked down at her breasts, slowly raising his eyes to her face, ‘but just as beautiful. Leonie…’

She was galvanised into action at the sight of his dark head lowering to hers, flinching away from him, her disgust evident in her face. ‘Keep away from me!’ she spat the words at him. ‘Don’t ever touch me again! Attracted to you?’ she swallowed down the nausea. ‘I can’t bear you near me. You—you make my skin crawl!’

He was breathing heavily, his expression savage. ‘You might lie to yourself, Leonie, but don’t bother to lie to me. You wanted me before and you want me now.’

‘Never!’ Her eyes were wide with fear as he advanced on her yet again. ‘I don’t want you. I don’t!’ she cried brokenly. ‘If you touch me again I swear I’ll be sick!’

His eyes blazed at her challenge, his mouth twisted with cruel satisfaction. ‘Maybe you like to fight—something else Jeremy didn’t tell me,’ he drawled insultingly.

‘Do you know him so well he would discuss such things with you?’ she said disgustedly.

‘About you he told me everything.’

‘More than everything, by the sound of it! If you don’t get out of my room, Mr Noble, I’m going to scream so loud I’ll wake the whole household. Do you want that?’

He gave her a considering look. ‘Now why would you do a thing like that? We haven’t even discussed the details yet. I’ll make the same arrangements for you that Jeremy did. Satisfied?’

Leonie frowned. ‘What arrangements?’

Giles shrugged. ‘The apartment, the car, the monthly allowance. Of course, it will be a bigger allowance than he gave you—after all, nearly five years have elapsed since your affair with him.’

She gasped. ‘You really believe all that rubbish about the car and the allowance?’

He nodded. ‘And don’t forget the apartment.’

‘I never stayed at that apartment. Jeremy may have paid the rent on it, may even have taken other girls there, but I never even saw the place, let alone actually lived there.’

‘The maid said differently.’

‘A maid employed by Jeremy! Don’t you see, it was all made up, to blacken my character even more.’

‘Let’s forget about Jeremy, for God’s sake!’

‘Forget him!’ Leonie echoed shrilly. ‘Do you think I haven’t tried?’ And yet his handsome face was much harder to bring to mind then Giles Noble’s, it always had been; this man’s image was indelibly printed on her memory. ‘I despise him, and I despise you even more for listening to his lies. Now would you please get out of here?’

‘No,’ he replied calmly.

‘I shall scream,’ she threatened again.

‘Go ahead.’

She got no farther than opening her mouth, when his firm lips instantly clamped down on hers. Leonie had never known such faintness, everything started to fade into darkness, her body going slack, and still that mouth continued its punishing onslaught, moving over the softness of her lips with a savagery that bruised.

When she felt she could take no more he at last raised his head, his eyes searching her waxen features, her dilated eyes and shaking body. That she was suffering from a minor form of shock was obvious at a glance, and Giles’s features hardened angrily.

‘You really mean it about feeling sick, don’t you?’ he rasped.

Her breathing was shallow, her eyes dazed. ‘Yes,’ she choked.

‘Sit down.’ He led her over to a chair, forcing her to sit down. ‘Bend down. That’s it,’ he put her head between her knees. ‘All right?’ he asked a few seconds later when she had struggled back up to a sitting position.

She had broken out in a cold sweat now, the shaking was getting worse. ‘Could you please leave me? I’m sure I’ll feel better when you’ve gone.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ he agreed grimly. ‘But I’m not going anywhere just yet. Come on,’ he led her over to the bed. ‘I’ll help you in,’ he rasped as she just stood there in front of him.

Leonie stood motionless as he helped her off with her robe and slipped off her mules, tucking the covers in around her as if she were a little girl.

His thoughts seemed to be running along the same lines. ‘You may only be twenty-two, Leonie, but you’ve done a lot of living in your young life.’

She was in a daze, making no demur as he moved to turn out the light, half expecting the bed to give as he got in beside her. When she heard the door open and close as he left she heaved a sigh of relief, then turned over to sob brokenly into her pillow.

She stayed in her bedroom the next morning, asking Dorothy for the luxury of breakfast in bed. Not that she was particularly hungry, but not eating breakfast at all would cause even more speculation.

The Rolls was still in the driveway when she let herself out of the house at nine-thirty, her intention to go for a walk until Giles Noble had left to go back to London. She couldn’t face him again, not after last night’s insults. To think that he had actually offered to make her his mistress! She still shook at the thought of it.

She walked down the gravel driveway, wearing practical flat shoes, her denims old and faded, her cotton sun-top showing the creamy expanse of her shoulders, finishing abruptly at her waist. She intended cutting across the fields to the river, and would have done so if the plum-coloured Rolls hadn’t come to a silent halt beside her.

Giles Noble leant over and pushed open the passenger door. ‘Get in,’ he ordered grimly.

‘I’d rather——’

‘Get in, Leonie,’ he repeated tautly. ‘We have to talk, surely you can see that?’

‘If it’s about last night——’

He gave an impatient sigh and got out of the car to come round and forcibly push her inside. He was soon behind the wheel again, driving off at great speed.

‘Could you please slow down?’ she finally had to ask, her fingers digging into the edge of the seat as his huge car manoeuvred the small country roads.

His foot at once eased off the accelerator, his shoes of the finest leather, the formal suit he wore in that dark pin-stripe that Leonie remembered so well.

‘Don’t you ever wear anything else?’ she asked without thinking, at once biting her lip. ‘I’m sorry,’ her voice was stilted, ‘I didn’t mean to be rude.’

‘I take it you mean the suit. I have half a dozen made a year for wearing in court.’

‘But surely it doesn’t really show under that black flowing thing?’

He gave a wry smile. ‘That “black flowing thing” happens to be a dignified part of my profession.’

‘Yes.’ She repressed a shiver. The black gown he wore in court had often turned him into a bird of prey in her dreams, the gown appearing as wings, wings he wrapped about her before he devoured her. ‘Whose life are you hoping to ruin today?’ she asked bitterly.

His mouth tightened. ‘The man in question is as guilty as hell,’ he told her grimly.

‘It must be nice to always believe that,’ her mouth twisted. ‘I wonder how many of them were really innocent.’

‘As you were?’ he scorned.

‘As I was. There’s no point in this conversation, Mr Noble. I can’t prove my innocence, if I could I would have done so four years ago. Your friend Jeremy is much more believable. It’s easier to believe a Harley Street doctor than the young girl who imagined herself in love with him.’

‘You didn’t love him at all,’ Giles said tautly. ‘You and your brother used his infatuation with you to try and obtain money from him. How did you feel about seeing Philip Trent this weekend? Did you find you still love him?’

‘I’ve always loved Phil, but not in the way you mean,’ she told him resentfully. ‘Take me back, Mr Noble. I shall pack my belongings and leave immediately.’ Damn the contract, she wouldn’t live through this agony again, not again. ‘You can explain the reasons for my departure to your aunt.’

‘I don’t intend telling my aunt anything,’ he surprised her by saying.

Leonie gave him a sharp, suspicious glance. ‘Why?’

‘I never discuss my cases with her. I never discuss them with anyone.’

‘But surely this is different? Surely—You don’t want to tell her because you still plan to have an affair with me!’ she accused heatedly. ‘You’re hoping to use my past to force me into an affair with you. My God, you’re worse than any criminal you’ll ever meet in the courtroom!’

His mouth twisted. ‘You know damn well that isn’t how it’s supposed to happen, Leonie.’

‘Yes!’ she insisted. ‘But I won’t be forced. No man will ever use me again, not in any way.’

‘Not even Trent?’ he taunted harshly. ‘Didn’t you and he discuss using the same method on me that you used on Jeremy?’

‘You?’ Leonie’s eyes were wide, deep blue eyes the colour of pansies.

‘Yes, me,’ he confirmed tautly. ‘Last night I was just trying to make things easy for you, see how far you were prepared to go at our first meeting. You’re an even better actress now than you were four years ago, your outrage seems quite genuine.’

‘Maybe that’s because it is genuine! You mean you came to my room last night hoping to trap me, trying to make me attempt to blackmail you?’ She was incredulous at the deviousness of this man’s mind.

Giles gave her a sideways glance. ‘Don’t tell me it never crossed your mind.’

‘But it didn’t!’

‘If you had agreed to my suggestion last night I would have been disappointed,’ he drawled insultingly. ‘I have you marked down as much cleverer than that. I was supposed to be really desperate for you before you agreed to come to me.’

‘Come to you…?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m a prominent barrister, third generation. I would want to protect my reputation and family name at all costs. And it would be a fitting revenge, wouldn’t it, Leonie?’

She swallowed hard. ‘Revenge…?’

‘Don’t tell me you never thought of revenge.’ His mouth twisted.

‘Yes, I thought of it!’ Her eyes sparkled with hatred. She had thought of revenge many times, until Tom had reasoned that John Noble was just doing his job, that if it hadn’t been him it would have been someone else. But he hadn’t had to enjoy it, hadn’t had to be quite so cruelly sadistic!

Giles gave a mocking smile. ‘I knew you would. Those huge blue eyes of yours can be so candid on occasion. I saw the hate in them every time I looked at you, saw the anger burning there. You may have changed outwardly, Leonie, assumed a sophisticated veneer, but those eyes are unmistakable. I would have recognised them anywhere.’

‘There’s no reason why you shouldn’t,’ she said tightly, trying to take in all that he was saying.

‘But you didn’t think I would.’

‘I didn’t?’ She wasn’t even listening to him any more, her head was aching, her temples throbbing. She would leave here today, would get as far away from him as possible, and would try to build a life for herself—once again.

‘You said so yourself last night,’ he reminded her. ‘Different name, different look—oh no, my recognising you wasn’t part of the plan at all. I could see the shock in your face when I showed straight away that I knew you were Leonora Gordon.’

‘I was shocked at seeing you, not at being recognised!’

‘Oh yes?’ he scorned.

‘Yes,’ she insisted heatedly. ‘I had no idea you were Emily’s nephew.’

‘You’re saying she never spoke to you about me?’ he derided. ‘Even though I know she takes great pride in telling every new acquaintance of how proud she is of me.’

‘She wouldn’t if she knew what a bastard you are!’

He shrugged. ‘She knows, she just chooses to ignore it. You may have noticed, she sees no wrong in anyone.’

‘I’ve noticed,’ Leonie muttered. ‘But I had no way of knowing that Emily’s nephew Giles, and John Noble, were one and the same man. They certainly didn’t sound like the same man.’ Emily’s glowing accounts of her nephew had no bearing on the man Leonie had met in that court four years ago.

‘It won’t work, Leonie,’ Giles drawled mockingly. ‘I would never get caught in a trap like that.’

‘Too intelligent, I suppose,’ she said sarcastically.

‘You could say that. Of course, I could have let this charming little charade take its course, and then told you the truth, but that would just be a waste of your time and mine. I’ll take you back to the cottage now, I’ll even drive you back to London if you still want to go.’

‘I don’t.’ She suddenly came to a decision. She liked it at Rose Cottage, enjoyed her work, and she loved Emily’s company, so she wasn’t going to be driven away. Tom had taught her to stand firm when she believed in something, and she believed in her right to live her life without interference from Giles Noble.

He raised dark eyebrows. ‘Do I take that to mean you’ve changed your mind about leaving?’

‘You can take it how you like, Mr Noble,’ she said with saccharine sweetness. ‘But I am contracted to work with Emily, and that’s exactly what I intend doing.’ She looked at him challengingly.

‘And if I tell her about you?’

Leonie faced him unflinchingly, suddenly very calm and in control. This man couldn’t hurt her any more, and she intended showing him that. ‘I’m sure that in her usual fashion she’ll skip over the more unpleasant parts and see me only as a girl caught in the force of circumstances. Yes, you go ahead and tell her, Mr Noble. I really couldn’t give a damn any more what you do.’

‘Couldn’t you?’

‘No! If I have to leave this job I’ll just get another one. You can’t touch me any more.’

‘We’ll see, shall we?’ he smiled, a smile without humour, like a cobra about to strike its victim. ‘Yes, we’ll see,’ he repeated softly.

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