ideon Harte picked up his briefcase, slipped his mobile phone into his jacket pocket and walked across his office. As he reached the door the telephone on his desk began to ring.

Hurrying back to the desk, he leaned over and picked up the receiver. ‘Gideon Harte.’

‘It’s Andy. Can I see you for a moment?’

‘I was just leaving. Is there some kind of problem?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Okay, come on down to my office.’

‘Righto. Be there in a minute.’

Gideon went over to the plate-glass window, put his briefcase on the floor near his desk, then turned, stood looking out at the rooftops of London. The sky had a peculiar look to it, pinkish along the edge of the horizon, a dull glow like a fire in the distance, except that he knew there was no fire. Gideon sighed under his breath. He was very tired; it was almost ten o’clock on this Monday night, and he had had a long day. He was glad his father was coming back from New York at the end of the week. In his absence he had had the entire newspaper chain to supervise, and it had been quite a job since he also ran the London Evening Post.

Now his mind zeroed in on Andy McHugh, and he hoped his top investigative reporter was not coming to give him news he had been half expecting for some time–and dreading.

A moment later Gideon swung around as Andy knocked, came barrelling in, exclaiming, ‘Sorry about this, Gid, but I felt you had to know tonight.’ Closing the door behind him, Andy strode across the floor, joined Gideon at the window.

‘Okay, give it to me straight, no frills please,’ Gideon said, looking Andy right in the eye.

‘It’s about Dusty Rhodes.’

‘Oh shit, I knew this was going to come and hit us in the face sooner or later. What’s happened? Who’s got the story?’

‘Look, it’s not a breaking news story, thank God. As you well know, the Harrogate police and the hospital conveniently forgot that stabbing ever happened. But there’s going to be a special piece in the Daily Mail tomorrow or Wednesday. An in-depth interview with Melinda Caldwell.’

‘Well, thank God it’s not about the stabbing. India’s name would have been all over that story!’

‘You’re right, and she probably isn’t mentioned in this one, although we don’t know that for sure. But listen, Gideon, there’s something else. This Caldwell girl has a child with Dusty. A little girl, Atlanta, three years old.’

Startled, Gideon gaped at the reporter. ‘Oh God, and he never told India. That I know for sure. She would have confided in me or one of her other cousins, we’re all very close. This is going to be a big shock to her. In a sense it changes the picture for India. He’s lied.’

‘Maybe not. I do believe that the relationship between Dusty Rhodes and the Caldwell girl is over, and has been for a long time. Harry Forster and I really did do a lot of digging into Dusty’s past, into his background, and he’d definitely broken up with Melinda Caldwell by 1998, actually maybe just after the child’s birth. He’s been truthful with India about all that.’

‘He just omitted to tell her he has a three-year-old child. Lying by omission, I would call it.’

‘That’s true.’

‘How did you find out, Andy?’

‘As you know, I have a contact at the detox clinic, well-paid by us, a male nurse I asked to keep me informed about Melinda. He just phoned tonight with some useful information. About two weeks ago, a friend of Melinda’s, Carrie Vale, went down to see her, as she has over the past few months. But this time she brought another woman, who was passed off as also being a friend of Melinda. I say passed off because the other woman is a writer for the Mail. Obviously, the two of them induced Melinda to sell her story. “My Terrible Life with Britain’s Greatest Living Artist,” or something or other like that. My contact told me that unexpectedly Melinda opened up to him tonight, boasted that she’d been paid a lot of money to tell her side of the story, although Barry, my contact, believes she’s been motivated by revenge, not money. Wants to get her own back on Dusty Rhodes for dumping her…you know how it goes…hell hath no fury…’

Gideon sat down at his desk, pondering for a moment, then said to the investigative reporter, ‘Come and sit here for a minute, Andy,’ indicating the chair at the other side of the desk. ‘Let’s try to assess the damage…to India.’

Andy nodded, lowered himself into the chair, also looking thoughtful. ‘I don’t think there’ll be any real damage to her, Gid, I mean as far as the story goes. There’s nothing wrong with her having a relationship with Dusty Rhodes. He’s single, available. However, I’m fairly certain she herself won’t be too favourably disposed towards him, if he hasn’t told her about his child. And I do say if. He may well have explained the whole situation.’

‘I doubt it! She’d have confided in one of us. But I agree with you, as far as the actual story’s concerned.’ Gideon blew out air, slumped down in the chair. ‘I shall have to alert her, especially since you said it might appear tomorrow.’

‘That’s right, and one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you tonight is that there could be repercussions, as far as certain tabloids are concerned. Once the story appears, other papers may do follow-ups, write about Dusty and his kid. If India is with him at Willows Hall she’ll be exposed to them, maybe even in the middle of the feeding frenzy. You know what they’re like, some are real buggers if you ask me,’ Andy finished.

‘Damnation, that might easily happen!’ Gideon exclaimed, sitting up. ‘I can just imagine the headlines in some of the tabloids…playing up their different backgrounds. Anyway, it was smart of you to pay off that male nurse, at least we’re not going to be taken completely by surprise.’

‘I’ll stay on top of it, Gideon, but there’s not much we can do about other papers picking it up, rehashing, running with it.’

‘I realize that. However, let’s be thankful for small mercies. I shall call India to warn her, and if she’s staying at Willows Hall with him I shall advise her to beat a hasty retreat at once.’

Linnet was sitting in the upstairs parlour at Pennistone Royal, studying the sketches for her wedding gown, as well as those for the bridesmaids’ dresses. She had spread them out on the coffee table, and suddenly she glanced up at Evan, who sat at the other side of the room near the oriel window.

‘I know you’re going over the list of tomorrow’s chores at the Leeds store, Evan, but can you spare me a couple of minutes?’ Linnet asked.

‘Of course. What do you need?’

‘Your eyes. I just can’t make up my mind about my wedding dress. Maybe you can help me, you’ve got such good taste.’

Evan put down her notebook and came to join Linnet on the sofa, picked up one of the sketches and gazed at it for a few minutes. She suddenly made a face. ‘No, not this one. Far too modern.’ Slowly, paying great attention to the details of the sketches, she went through all of them, discarding every one. Then she turned to Linnet and said, ‘I’m not really crazy about any of these, Linny, to be really honest. This one isn’t too bad.’ As she spoke she selected a sketch, handed it to Linnet and added, ‘Even so, it isn’t the kind of wedding gown I picture you in, or how I see you in my mind’s eye on that very special day.’

‘How do you see me?’ Linnet asked, sitting back against the cushions, staring at Evan with interest, valuing her opinion.

‘I think you should look elegant yet romantic’ Evan lifted her hands, moved them around in front of her, as if trying to draw a shape in the air. ‘I think you should wear a medieval dress, no, not that, but something that hints of…the Tudor period! Yes, that’s it, and not white, it’s too sharp for your pale skin and red hair. I think the gown should be cream-coloured, rich, like clotted cream, and made of satin. Heavy satin. There should be pearl embroidery on it, too. The style I envision is with a high bustline, Empire, perhaps even with a high neckline and long sleeves. A full skirt, almost a crinoline. Elizabeth Tudor style, I think. That’s how you should look, like a young Tudor queen…and you are a queen that day, you know.’

Linnet was staring at her, her bright-green eyes sparkling. ‘I love what you’re describing, that dress sounds fabulous. Listen, you’re a fashion designer, so design it for me! Oh, please say yes, Evan. There’s just enough time, if you start immediately. Today is September the fourth, my wedding is on December the first, that’s a good three months.’

‘Do you really want me to design your wedding dress?’ Evan asked, eyeing her warily. ‘Are you sure you don’t want a gown from Balmain or Yves Saint Laurent? A big-name designer?’

‘No, I want Evan Hughes. Say you’ll do it. Please.’

At this moment the phone on the desk began to ring, and Linnet got up, and went to answer it. ‘Hello? Pennistone Royal.’

‘It’s Gideon,’ he said.

‘Hi, darling! Are you looking for Evan? She’s right here.’

‘I’ll speak to her in a minute, Linny, but first I want to have a word with India.’

‘Oh, Gid, India went over to Niddersley to have dinner with her grandmother. Great-Aunt Edwina’s been wanting to meet Dusty Rhodes, so they drove over there at six-thirty. Have you tried her on her mobile?’

‘It’s off. Hmmmm. Is she staying with Dusty tonight? Or is she coming back to Pennistone Royal, do you know?’

‘Oh, she’s definitely coming back here. She told Evan they could drive to Leeds together tomorrow morning, since they’re both in the middle of the renovations at the store. That’s their baby.’

‘I’m glad about that!’ he said somewhat sharply. ‘I mean that she will be with you.’

‘Gideon, you sound ever so put out. Is there something the matter?’

‘Sort of,’ he responded, sighing heavily, and then repeated everything Andy McHugh had told him a short while before.

When he had finished, Linnet said, ‘I doubt she knows Dusty has a child. She once made a reference to the fact that he hadn’t been married, that he had no children. Phew! She’s not going to like this, is she, Gid?’

‘Not at all, she’s so straight and open and she can’t abide duplicity in others.’

‘He may have just been embarrassed to say something,’ Linnet pointed out, as usual trying to find the best in others.

‘Perhaps you’re right. On the other hand, don’t you think he could have mentioned it after the stabbing? Let’s face it, his affair with Melinda Caldwell had suddenly come to light–why not tell the whole truth? Shouldn’t he have trusted India to understand?’

‘I suppose so, but we don’t know Dusty Rhodes, now do we?’ At that moment India walked in, a look of puzzlement on her face. She stared at Linnet quizzically.

‘Hi, India!’ Evan exclaimed, smiling at her, then turned to look at Linnet, signalling with her eyes. ‘Here’s India!’ she added, putting great emphasis on her name.

‘I know that. Gideon, India just arrived. I’m going to put her on before you speak to Evan.’

India walked to the desk, frowned and muttered, ‘Why were you talking about Dusty?’

Linnet remained silent, thrust the receiver at her, stepped away, went back to the sofa, grimacing to Evan as she did. She knew India was going to be upset…and why shouldn’t she be?

The room was silent. The two other women said nothing as India stood at the desk, listening to Gideon, her face impassive. But Linnet and Evan both saw the little vein pulsing at one side of her temple, and her eyes had narrowed perceptibly. She was angry but the anger was contained.

At last Gideon finished and she replied, ‘Yes, absolutely. Of course I’m not going to stay with him at Willows Hall, Gideon, that would be asking for trouble, since you believe that some of the tabloids might follow up. Anyway, it just so happens that I was planning to stay here at Pennistone Royal all week because of my work at the store. Evan and I are on a project together; oh, and here she is. Thanks, Gideon, for the warning and the advice.’

Evan rushed to take the phone. ‘Gideon, how are you?’

‘Worn out tonight, bloody knackered, actually. I can’t tell you how happy I am that Dad’s going to be back at his desk on Monday.’

‘I know it’s been rough, especially this month.’ Turning around, facing the windows, Evan lowered her voice, and asked, ‘You’re not still angry with me, are you, honey?’

‘No, that’s all been blown away by hard work,’ he laughed. ‘I love you, Evan, you mustn’t forget that. Just because we have a disagreement now and again doesn’t mean I’ve fallen out of love. Just out of bed on the wrong side. Anyway, on some days, that’s what’s really making me irritable.’

She laughed with him, although she knew he didn’t really mean this. He had been annoyed with her all last week. But now, tonight, he sounded more like his old self to a certain extent. ‘By the way, I think I might have to stay up here this coming weekend, Gid.’

‘Because of work?’

‘Partially. I also promised Robin I’d go and see him. It’s not a problem for you, is it?’

‘No. As a matter of fact I think my parents will come straight up to Yorkshire, they usually do when they’ve been abroad. I’ll be there, too. So, how do you like them apples?’

‘I positively love them apples.’ Stepping further away, she dropped her voice another octave, and whispered, ‘From what I heard Linnet say to you, there’s problems with Dusty.’

‘Linnet will tell you all the gory details, but the bottom line is that Dusty has a child by the woman who stabbed him, and he never told India.’

‘He’s been a bit stupid, hasn’t he?’

‘Oh, yes. And I’ve got to go, darling, I’m beat. I’ll ring you tomorrow. Big kiss.’

‘Big kiss. I love you, Gideon.’

‘Me too you.’

Evan put the phone down and went to join her cousins who were seated together on the sofa. She saw at once that India looked unusually pale and her face was strained.

‘So, Evan, what do you think?’ India asked softly, looking across at her, a silvery-blonde brow lifting.

Sitting down opposite Linnet and India, Evan answered, ‘Well, I don’t actually know the whole story. What’s happened?’

Linnet explained everything, mentioned the feature which was about to appear in a national newspaper, probably the next day, and finished, ‘Gideon’s worried about the aftermath, the tabloids having a field day with it. You know they love scandals, and especially those involving well-known people.’

Evan looked at India sympathetically. ‘And you never had an inkling?’ she asked softly.

‘No, I didn’t. And after the stabbing I don’t understand why he didn’t explain. Gideon’s right, he told me about Melinda, so why not mention his little girl?’

‘He may very well have felt embarrassed,’ Linnet murmured, reaching out, taking India’s hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly.

‘I agree with Linny,’ Evan remarked. ‘I think that’s the only possible explanation. And where is the little girl, by the way? Since her mother’s in rehab who’s looking after her?’

‘Presumably the child’s grandmother,’ Linnet volunteered.

‘I do wish he’d told me, I feel rather foolish.’ India leaned back against the sofa, looking saddened. ‘And he misjudged me.’

‘How was Great-Aunt Edwina tonight?’ Linnet now asked, wanting to distract her for a moment. ‘And how did the dinner go?’

‘Fine. It went well.’

‘Did she like him?’ Linnet probed.

‘Oh yes, very much. If you’ll pardon the expression, he charmed the pants off her.’

Evan’s mouth began to twitch, and she couldn’t help it, she started to laugh. Linnet joined in, and after a moment India was laughing with them. For a few seconds they were hilarious.

Finally coming to a spluttering stop, wiping her eyes, Linnet cried, ‘Oh, India, you do say the funniest things sometimes. I had this wonderful picture of Great-Aunt Edwina without her knickers. But seriously, what are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to ask him about it. What else is there to do?’

‘When are you going to do that?’ Linnet asked, as usual like a dog with a bone.

‘Tomorrow morning. On the way to Leeds. Evan and I are driving over very early, so we’ll stop off at Follifoot to see him. Are you game, Evan?’

‘Absolutely, India. You can throw down the gauntlet and I’ll be right there at your side. Harte rule number one, isn’t it?’

Dusty Rhodes was not fully awake, still half dozing on the edge of sleep. But as more daylight filtered into his bedroom he began to bestir himself, knowing he should get out of bed, go to his studio, attempt to paint. And so finally he sat up, and as he did so he became conscious of another presence in the room.

Blinking in the dim light, peering, he now saw a figure standing at the bottom of the bed, although it took him a moment to determine who it was.

‘India!’ he suddenly exclaimed, bringing his long legs onto the floor, standing up, moving towards her rapidly. ‘What are you doing here, sweetheart?’

For a moment she didn’t answer, merely stared at him, until at last she said, ‘I came to warn you.’

‘Warn me? About what?’

‘Melinda Caldwell has sold her story to the Daily Mail.’ As she spoke she handed him the newspaper.

He felt as if his insides were going to drop out, even though he had known that inevitably, one day, something like this would happen. He took the paper, threw it on the bed, stood gaping at her speechlessly. He saw how cold her eyes were, noted the severity of her mouth, became aware of her contained demeanour, yet there was anger hovering below the surface.

Feeling suddenly vulnerable and stupid, standing there stark naked, when she was dressed for work, he snatched his robe from the bottom of the bed and pulled it on hastily.

‘It’s not in the paper today,’ she continued in that icy voice of hers. ‘But the feature is announced inside. It’s going to run for two days, starting tomorrow. I thought you should know my cousin Gideon thinks that some of the tabloids will want to rehash it, try to interview you, and so I suggest you make a hasty retreat, go somewhere for a week until it dies down. The press are going to be on your tail, you know.’

‘But there’s a lot of security here now, thanks to you and Jack Figg,’ he protested. ‘I’m protected behind the gates.’

‘I just wanted to alert you, it’s up to you what you do. I’d also like to ask you a question.’

‘Yes, ask me, sweetheart.’ He stepped towards her but she immediately backed away, and he knew at once that winning her over wasn’t going to be quite so easy. ‘India, you know you can ask me anything,’ he repeated.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a child with Melinda Caldwell?’

He stared at her blankly, at a loss for words; he had no excuse really, and he should have told her, explained. He felt suddenly embarrassed, didn’t know what to say, and so he shrugged, looking helpless. ‘I guess I thought it might come between us.’

‘And it has, but only because you didn’t trust me enough to confide in me. You’ve totally misjudged me, Dusty, and that makes me feel very sad. Because I realized last night that you don’t really understand me or know who I am, where I’m coming from…emotionally and philosophically. You’ve just no idea about me, and I don’t think it’s possible for us to continue our relationship.’

‘Don’t say that!’ he exclaimed. ‘I do know you and understand you. And I care for you, India. You’re very important to me, surely you realize that.’

She shook her head. ‘I do know one thing…you’re totally wrong in your attitude towards my family. You’ve dismissed them as snobs whom you don’t care to meet, when in actuality they’re not. They’re very nice, normal, hard-working people. But you never bothered to find that out. And that leads me to believe that you are arrogant, self-centred and a coward.’

‘How can you say such things! I met your grandmother last night, didn’t I?’ he blustered.

‘Oh, don’t be so ridiculous! An old lady of ninety-five whom you had eating out of your hand in five seconds, because you flirted with her, charmed her. I’m talking mostly about my cousins, my closest friends. You don’t want to meet them because they’re more your size, and not so easily manipulated.’

‘India, listen to me, you’re going off at the deep end. I was going to tell you about Atlanta when I got out of the hospital, but to be honest I didn’t want to spoil our little romantic interlude and–’

‘It’s certainly spoiled now,’ she snapped and headed towards his bedroom door, opened it, stepped onto the landing.

‘Hey, wait a minute! Are you breaking up with me because I have a child, for God’s sake?’ he exploded, suddenly irate.

‘No, I’m not. I certainly have enough compassion to understand about your little girl, understand that she’s part of your life, that you have a commitment to her. I am leaving you because you don’t trust me, don’t know me, and certainly you make no effort to see things from my point of view.’

‘You’re being very unfair, India,’ he chastised, but his voice was lower.

‘And so are you, Dusty. You know how much I love you, and actually I think you love me. Yet you don’t want the relationship to move forward, certainly you don’t want to make a commitment.’ She shrugged. ‘So what’s the point? I think it’s time for me to move on, frankly.’

She started down the staircase.

He ran after her. ‘India, wait!’ he begged from the top of the landing.

‘It’s over, Dusty.’ She continued on down the stairs without looking back.

‘But listen, what about your portrait?’

‘Fuck my portrait,’ she shot back, crossed the hall and went out of the front door. She slammed it so hard he thought the glass panes on either side would shatter, but they merely rattled.

Dusty was unable to move for a moment, stood staring down at the door. Finally he turned away, went back to the bedroom, filling with a sense of desolation now that he was alone. Could he win her back? He wasn’t sure. She was furious with him and he understood the reasons why. He cursed himself under his breath for not trusting her more. But then he had never been able to trust those who truly loved him. Would he never learn from the mistakes of the past?

Once she was outside the house, India ran all the way to the Aston Martin, which she had parked near the big barns a short while before. She scrambled into the driver’s seat and immediately turned to look at Evan.

‘Are you all right?’ Evan asked, touching her arm lightly, her face ringed with concern. ‘You’re awfully white, India dear.’

‘I’m okay,’ India replied, and promptly burst into tears.

Evan put her arm around her, and tried to soothe her, offering her tissues, murmuring kind words. And after a moment India, who was very strong, pulled herself together. She quickly recouped a little, blew her nose, and turned on the ignition. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said, driving forward. ‘I want to put some distance between myself and Mr Rhodes.’

‘I understand,’ Evan murmured, and decided not to ask any questions for the moment.

A little later, once they were on the road to Leeds, India told her what had happened, adding, ‘I do love him, you know.’ She was staring ahead, her eyes focused on the busy road as she explained, ‘But I can’t be with a man who doesn’t know who I am. So that’s it. I’ll get over him. Eventually.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ Evan agreed, but she couldn’t help wondering if India would.