Impetuous Masquerade

‘Then what is it like?’

‘Rhia, you have no idea how I felt. I had to think of something, some reason why I hadn’t spent the night at the nurses’ home. I couldn’t tell them the truth, could I?’

Rhia was appalled. ‘There are times, Val——’

‘I know, I know.’ Valentina was sulky. ‘For heaven’s sake, it’s only a little thing.’

‘A little thing?’ Rhia clenched her fists. ‘If Glyn dies, you’ll have made me an accessory to manslaughter!’

‘He won’t die——’

‘I hope not.’ Rhia took a deep breath. ‘Because if he does, Val, I have no intention of standing by and letting you get away scot-free!’

Back at her desk that afternoon, Rhia found it incredibly difficult to concentrate. Her mind buzzed with the things Valentina had told her. She could hardly believe her sister could have got herself into such a mess, and the implications were all bad. At times like this, she wondered how she and Val could have the same parents and yet be so different. It made her doubt her own assessment of her sister, and she realised that since Val left school, a gulf had opened between them that she could never bridge.

Her immediate boss, George Wyatt, was not particularly sympathetic to his secretary’s loss of concentration. He was a man in late middle age, with all the accompanying afflictions of the successful business-man: a short temper, an expanding girth, and an ulcer. Generally, he and Rhia worked together very well, she competent and independent, well able to handle clients alone, if necessary, and adept at anticipating her employer’s every whim. She attended to his engagements, pacified his wife on occasion, and handed him his tablets when his ulcer was playing up; but this afternoon she was self-absorbed and absentminded, and Mr Wyatt lost no time in giving her the edge of his impatience.

‘Rhia, are you deliberately trying to annoy me?’ he demanded, pointing to the tray on his desk. ‘I’ve asked you twice to hand me the Macdonald file, and you’ve simple ignored me!’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Wyatt.’ Rhia was flushed and apologetic. ‘I’m afraid—I—er—I’ve got a bit of a headache, that’s all.’

‘I wish that was all I had,’ retorted George Wyatt shortly. ‘This pain in my gut is tearing me to pieces, but do I complain?’

Frequently, Rhia was tempted to reply, but she merely gave a conciliatory shake of her head and tried to apply herself to his dictation. But it wasn’t easy, and later in the afternoon, checking the results of her shorthand, she hoped Mr Wyatt would not remember word for word exactly what he had said.

The board meeting was blessedly brief, and Rhia breathed a sigh of relief when she emerged from the building to find Simon’s car waiting in the staff parking area. The rain had ceased, and it was a mild April evening, the slowly illuminating lights of the city adding a sparkle to the darkening streets.

‘You’re early,’ Simon greeted her, as she slid into the seat beside him, and deposited an affectionate kiss at the corner of her mouth.

‘So are you,’ she agreed, returning his salutation warmly. ‘Thank goodness it’s Friday. I’m exhausted!’

‘You do look a little pale,’ Simon nodded, studying her features, despite the shadows of the car. ‘What’s wrong? Has Wyatt been rather tetchy again? I heard that his son was arrested for drunken driving the other evening.’

‘Did you?’ Rhia turned her face away, and moved her shoulders offhandedly. ‘Let’s go, shall we? I’m—starving!’

In truth, food was the last thing she needed, but Simon’s innocent remark had been too close for comfort. For the first time, she wondered if Valentina and Glyn had been drinking, and whether this was the reason Valentina had chosen to keep out of reach until morning.

‘By the way,’ Simon had noticed nothing amiss, ‘I’ve got tickets for the Bartok concert on Sunday. I know you said you weren’t terribly keen, but you’ll enjoy it, I know you will.’

‘Will I?’ Rhia gave him a swift appraising look. Right now, the idea of Bartok was like the idea of food—nauseating!

‘What’s the matter?’ At last Simon had detected some change in her attitude. ‘You seem—tense. Is anything wrong?’

‘No.’ Rhia forced a light laugh. ‘You know how it is. The weekend comes and you just feel like doing nothing.’

Simon frowned. ‘You’re not annoyed about Wednesday, are you? I just couldn’t get away. Those tiles in the kitchen have been impossible to match, and what with the rehearsals for the school play——’

‘Oh, no, honestly,’ Rhia hastened to reassure him. Simon took his work as a teacher very seriously, and it wasn’t his fault that his mother demanded so much of his free time. She was old, after all, and widowed, and Rhia sometimes wondered what she would do if Simon ever decided to move out. Perhaps she expected, if he got married, his wife would be prepared to move in, but Rhia knew she could never share a house with Simon’s mother. Mrs Travis was too set in her ways, too demanding, and certainly too attached to her son to allow any other woman to usurp her place in his affections.

‘You know what Mother’s like,’ Simon went on now, starting the car. ‘She hates the place to be in a mess, and the kitchen has taken longer than I expected.’

‘You have had to go to work as well,’ Rhia pointed out reasonably, glad to deflect him from her problems. ‘I think your mother forgets that.’

‘I know.’ Simon pulled out into the stream of traffic with a rueful grimace. ‘But it’s done now, and in future, we’ll be able to spend our free evenings together.’

‘Yes.’

But Rhia did not feel enthusiastic, and she had to make a determined effort to hide her misgivings as Simon rattled on about his day, and the play, and where they were going to eat that evening.

Chinese food was normally Rhia’s favourite, but this evening she only picked at her meal, pushing the chow mein round her plate in an effort to make it look less. Even so, she knew Simon had noticed, and when they were driving back to her flat, he cast her a doubtful glance.

‘You’re sure it’s not something I’ve done, Rhia?’ he ventured, taking one hand from the steering wheel to cover hers where they lay in her lap. ‘I mean, if it is, say so. I don’t like to think you’re keeping anything from me. We’re usually so close—very close.’ He squeezed her hands significantly. ‘In fact, I think it’s time we started thinking about the future—our future.’

Rhia extricated herself rather awkwardly and patted his hand. ‘Not tonight, Simon, mmm?’ she murmured, hoping he’d take the hint. ‘I really am very tired. I think I’ll stay in bed until lunchtime tomorrow.’

Simon took his dismissal with his usual good humour. ‘Okay,’ he said, bringing the car to a halt at the entrance to the apartment building. ‘I won’t press you now. But don’t expect the same privilege tomorrow.’

Rhia managed a faint smile. ‘Thanks, Simon.’

‘You’re not going to invite me in?’

‘Not tonight, no.’

Simon nodded, and after a moment’s hesitation, leant across and kissed her. ‘Come on, then. I’ll see you to your door,’ he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek as he drew away, and Rhia touched his face tenderly before sliding out of the car.

‘There’s no need for you to come up with me, really,’ she exclaimed, as he locked the car. ‘It’s only half past ten. There are always people about.’

‘Nevertheless, I’d rather assure myself that you were safely home,’ Simon insisted, slipping his hand into hers. ‘Brr! It’s turning chilly. Let’s get inside.’

The block of flats was not new, and graffiti covered the walls of the entrance hall, and adorned the sides of the iron lifts that clanked their way to the upper floors. They were not attractive surroundings, Rhia had to admit, but the flats themselves were not too bad. The one Rhia’s father had leased had two bedrooms and a living area, as well as kitchen and bathroom, and the usual offices. When her father was at home, Rhia and her sister shared a bedroom, but while he was away Valentina had moved the things she kept at the apartment into his bedroom.

‘Here we are.’ The lift had deposited them at the sixth floor, and Rhia indicated her door only a few yards away along the uncarpeted corridor. ‘Don’t bother getting out, Simon, there’s no need. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Okay.’ Simon sounded a little disappointed, as if he had half expected her to change her mind and invite him in for coffee, but Rhia needed to be alone. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he agreed, tightening his grip on her fingers before letting them go. ‘I love you.’

Rhia was glad the lift doors closed before she could make any response. Aside from her anxieties about Valentina, she was not sure enough of her feelings for Simon to commit herself so completely. She liked him, she liked him very much, but love—love was something she had learned to live without.

She had loved her parents deeply, but they had found their children more of an encumbrance than anything, and boarding school had robbed her of their secure, if indifferent, presence. Then, when her mother died and she had thought her father might need her, he had proved otherwise, going off to South Africa with hardly a second thought for either her or Valentina. And now, Valentina was proving that Rhia didn’t know her either, and the idea of giving some man a similar kind of hold over her was not something she anticipated.

With a slightly dejected shrug of her shoulders, she trudged along the corridor to her door, fumbling in her bag for her key, paying little attention to anything else.

‘Miss Mallory?’

The brusque, yet attractive, tones set her nerves jangling, and she spun round tautly, automatically clenching her fingers round the strap of her bag, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary. She had heard nothing, she had thought the corridor was deserted, and looking up at the tall stranger standing right behind her now, she realised the vulnerability Simon was always speaking of. But the man had spoken her name, so he could not be a villain, could he? Why warn her of his presence, if he intended to attack her?

Certainly he did not look like a thief, but criminals were often plausible people. Where had she read that, or heard that? On television, probably. They were always warning women to be wary of any stranger, who might threaten their lives or their property, and this man was definitely a stranger. Her lips parted. Just because he was tall and dark-skinned and attractive there was no reason to doubt his duplicity, and her knees trembled violently as she struggled to remain calm.

‘What do you want?’

The involuntary question was a futile effort to gain time, but the corridor remained obstinately empty. The lift she had heard coming whined away past her floor, and she was alone and helpless, and hopelessly demoralised.

‘Relax, Miss Mallory. I’m not a thief or a rapist,’ the man assured her, in a crisp masculine drawl that had a decidedly un-English accent. ‘I’m sorry if I frightened you, but I thought you’d heard my footsteps. This corridor isn’t exactly soundproof, is it?’

‘Well, I didn’t.’ Rhia was trying desperately to regain her composure. ‘And—and one doesn’t expect visitors at—at eleven o’clock at night.’

‘I know. I’m sorry about that, too. But my time scale isn’t the same as yours, and right now, I’m not too concerned about your reactions to my visit. I need to talk with you, Miss Mallory. Now. So do you invite me in, or do I state what I have to say out here?’

‘Wait a minute …’ Rhia clutched her bag like a lifeline. He was going too fast, much too fast. Who was he? What was he doing here? And what right did he think he had to demand speech with her?

‘My name is Frazer,’ he said now, anticipating her next question. ‘Jared Frazer.’ His lean mouth twisted in an expression of harsh satisfaction at her involuntary withdrawal. ‘I see the name means something to you. It should.’ He paused. ‘I’m Glyn’s uncle. And I’d be interested to hear your explanation as to how come you’re so unconcerned that my nephew may be dying because of you!’

CHAPTER TWO

‘THAT’s not true!’

Rhia’s denial was automatic, her pale cheeks flaming with hot colour as she faced his cold implacability.

‘Then why aren’t you at the hospital?’ he demanded, raking her with a scathing glance. ‘The least you could do is pretend you cared a damn for his life!’

‘I—I do. At least, I care as—as much as anyone would care——’

‘Anyone?’

‘Yes, anyone.’ Rhia glanced helplessly behind her. ‘Oh, I—I think you’d better come in. You—you’ve made a mistake, Mr Frazer. I’m not who you think I am. Valentina is my sister. I’m Rhia.’

‘Rhia?’

As she struggled to get her key into the lock, she heard him repeat her name with harsh incredulity. Then, as the key turned and the door swung open, she gasped in dismay as his hand at her back impelled her into the small hallway beyond. Panic flared once again, but it was short-lived as he groped for the light switch and slammed the door behind them.

‘You lying little bitch!’ he swore violently, iron-hard fingers around her upper arm pressing her against the wall. ‘You’d better think of something else and quick, Valentina. I met your sister Rhia when I came here earlier this afternoon!’

Any thought of defending her sister died in Rhia at that moment. ‘Then—then you were misled,’ she choked, almost spitting the words at him. ‘I—I am Rhia Mallory, Mr Frazer. And I can prove it. Now will you please let go of my arm? You’re hurting me!’

She was aware that in the struggle, the neat coil of her hair had become loosened and untidy strands of honey-coloured silk were tumbling down about her ears, framing the pale indignation of her face. Violet eyes, wide with resentment, glared into the enigmatic darkness of his, and she shook her head in fury as he continued to hold her prisoner.

‘Say that again,’ he commanded, and she was so close to him she could feel the warm draught of his breath as he spoke. It was fresh and just faintly scented with alcohol, as if he, as well as her sister, had taken time out from visiting the hospital.

‘I—I said, I’m Rhia Mallory,’ she repeated unsteadily. ‘I don’t know who you saw this afternoon, but it certainly wasn’t me.’

‘She said she was Rhia Mallory,’ he insisted, and Rhia could feel his frustration through the taut fingers gripping her arm. ‘She said you weren’t home, and that I’d better come back later. She didn’t say when, so I came back—at six, and again at eight o’clock this evening. This is my fourth visit, Miss Mallory, and this time I don’t intend to leave until I know the truth!’

Rhia was trembling very badly, but somehow she managed to sustain his angry glare. ‘I don’t care what she told you, Mr Frazer,’ she retorted tremulously. ‘I imagine she had her own reasons for telling you what she did. The fact remains, I am Rhia, not Valentina, and I wish you would stop behaving as if I’d committed some kind of crime!’

‘And haven’t you?’

‘No, damn you!’ Rhia caught her breath on a sob, the pain he was inflicting to her arm causing the blood to drain from it. ‘For God’s sake, let me go, can’t you? You’re taller, broader, and infinitely stronger than I am. Surely you’re not afraid I might overpower you!’

The man regarded her malevolently for a long moment, and then, with a faint trace of admiration twisting his dark features, he opened his fingers and stepped back, allowing her to massage her injured arm with jerky movements. ‘You’re very cool, Miss Mallory,’ he commented harshly. ‘I should have expected it. But after meeting your sister, I’m afraid I was disarmed.’

Disarmed! Rhia couldn’t imagine anyone who displayed a greater lack of such a weakness. But evidently Valentina had spoken to him, and succeeded in deceiving him. But why? What did she hope to gain by it? Surely she realised that by antagonising this man, she could only be making things more difficult for herself.

‘You’d better come in.’

Pushing past him, Rhia led the way into the living room. For a moment, he resisted her attempt to pass him, but then, with a wry inclination of his head he allowed her to continue, and Rhia turned on the lamps with a feeling of mild incredulity. This couldn’t be happening to her, she thought disbelievingly. But it was, and her unwelcome visitor’s bulk uncomfortably reduced the generous proportions of the familiar room.

Glancing behind her to ensure herself of his whereabouts, Rhia emptied the contents of her handbag on to the dropleaf table in the window. Then, after finding what she was looking for, she held out several articles for his inspection: her banker’s card, her cheque book, and not least, her driving licence.

‘I think these will clarify the situation,’ she declared, her voice breaking in spite of the iron determination she was putting on herself. ‘And if any further evidence is required, I’m sure Simon—that is, the young man I was out with this evening—I’m sure he would willingly——’

She couldn’t go on. It had all been too much for her. With a feeling of ignominy, she felt the hot tears over-spilling her eyes, sliding down her cheeks in weak betrayal, and she quickly turned her back on him as she scrubbed her knuckles over her eyes.

If she had expected her tears to persuade him, she was wrong. As she stood there, struggling to control herself, she heard him flicking over the documents she had given him, in no apparent hurry to offer his apologies.

‘Yes,’ he said at last, ‘I’m sure these are genuine. But why shouldn’t I suspect their deliverer? If I was going to pretend to be someone else, I’d make pretty damn sure I had documentation, too.’

‘Oh, you’re impossible!’ Rhia spun round helplessly, her breakdown made all the more humiliating by reddened eyes and a drip at the end of her nose. ‘Why won’t you believe me? Why would I lie?’

‘Why would your sister lie?’

Rhia bent her head, rubbing her nose disconsolately. ‘You tell me.’

There was silence for a few pregnant seconds, and then Jared Frazer moved, walking past her to the table and depositing the articles she had given him with the rest of her belongings. Rhia flinched away from him as he passed her, but he didn’t touch her. After he had accomplished his mission, he returned to his position by the door, and when she looked up he was regarding her with something less than hostility in his brooding gaze.

In spite of their differences, Rhia could not deny that he was a disturbing man, disturbing both in his manner and his appearance. The hooded eyes with their heavy lids, that had raked her trembling defiance previously, were only part of his dark attraction. Set above a narrow intelligent face, with high cheekbones and a prominent nose, they only hinted at the sensuality that was evident in every line of his thin-lipped mouth. She had never seen Glyn, but if he was anything like his uncle she could quite see why Valentina had found him so attractive. Even the dark lounge suit he was wearing fitted his lean muscular body with unerring elegance, accentuating the narrowness of his hips and the powerful strength of his legs.

Yet, meeting his eyes, Rhia knew an uneasy sense of foreboding. It was strange, but now that the hardness of aggression was being erased from his features, she felt more—not less—anxiety. Why had he come here? What did he want? And why hadn’t Glyn’s parents made the trip?

‘Okay,’ he said, straightening from the indolent stance he had adopted, pushing back the lick of straight black hair that had tumbled across his forehead. ‘Suppose I accept what you say: I guess that means it was Valentina I spoke to earlier.’

Rhia moved her head in a positive gesture.

‘So—where is she?’

Rhia caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘At—at work, I suppose.’

‘I assume you mean the hospital where she’s a student nurse?’

‘Naturally.’

‘No.’ He shook his head, folding his arms across the broad expanse of his chest, and Rhia’s anxiety kindled into a hard core of apprehension.

‘What do you mean, no?’

‘Where do you think I’ve been this evening? Apart from a bar.’

Rhia frowned. ‘But she must be there. She told me she was on duty at eight o’clock.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve seen her?’

‘Well—yes.’ Rhia coloured. ‘But it was at lunchtime. That—that was when I learned about what had happened——’ She broke off uncertainly. ‘How—how is Glyn?’

‘Still in a coma,’ said Jared Frazer flatly. ‘The doctors say it may be hours or days before he comes out of it. There’s nothing anybody can do until they know whether he’s suffered any brain damage.’

‘Oh, no!’ Rhia felt sick.

‘Oh, yes.’ Jared Frazer was relentless. ‘And I mean to find out how my nephew, who was a tolerably good driver, should have had the misfortune to wrap his automobile round a concrete post for no reason.’

Rhia moved her head. ‘What—what did they tell you?’

‘Who? The doctors, or the police?’

‘The—police.’

‘They’re not happy with their investigations either,’ he replied, his eyes intimidatingly intent. ‘They think someone else may have been with him. Your sister, perhaps. They know she was with him earlier in the evening.’

Rhia could not meet his eyes. ‘I—I wish I could help you.’

‘So do I,’ he averred grimly. ‘It would help to find your sister. Are you sure you have no idea where she might be?’

‘No.’ Rhia could be positive about that at least. ‘I—at lunchtime when I left her I understood she was going back to the hospital to see Glyn. I can’t imagine where else she would go.’

Jared Frazer pulled a wry face. ‘You forget—she was here, wasn’t she? I spoke to her at—oh, I guess it must have been about two-thirty.’

‘Yes.’ Rhia tried to think. ‘But you’ve been to St Mary’s since then and she’s not there.’

‘That’s right.’

Rhia linked her unsteady fingers together. ‘Then I don’t know where she is, Mr Frazer. I—I wish I did.’

‘Which leaves us with the original question, why should Valentina pretend to be you?’

Rhia nodded. ‘I—I suppose—when she realised who you were——’

‘——she panicked!’

‘Panicked?’ Rhia endeavoured not to betray her alarm. ‘No, I—perhaps she was scared.’

‘Scared!’ He was scathing. ‘And why should she be scared, if she had nothing to hide?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Why are you catechising me?’ Rhia’s nerves were rapidly getting the better of her. First Valentina’s confession, then the shock of meeting him at her door, and now this! She wasn’t a criminal, but she was being made to feel like one, and the knowledge of what her sister had told her made everything that was happening like some awful nightmare.

Scraping her hand across her damp cheeks, she moved her shoulders in a dismissing gesture. ‘I think you’d better go, Mr Frazer,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I’m sure Valentina will explain everything when she turns up.’

‘When she turns up?’ He glared at her. ‘And when might that be? Is she in the habit of disappearing for nights on end? Aren’t you worried about her?’

‘Worried!’ Rhia gasped. ‘Of course I’m worried. And—and in answer to your question, no—no, Val is not in the habit of sleeping rough, if that’s what you’re implying! But she’s obviously not here, and I don’t see what more I can tell you.’

Jared Frazer regarded her broodingly. ‘Very well,’ he said at last, after subjecting her to another penetrating appraisal, ‘I’ll go. I intend to spend the night at the hospital, just in case there’s any change in Glyn’s condition. If you do locate your sister, I’d be grateful if you’d contact me there. Otherwise, I’ve booked a room at the Westbury.’

‘At—at the Westbury,’ Rhia nodded. ‘I’ll remember.’

Jared Frazer hesitated only a moment longer, and then turned abruptly towards the door, preceding her along the narrow entrance hall with long powerful strides.

He pulled the door open into the corridor, then halted, glancing down at Rhia closely behind him. ‘You’ll be all right?’ he asked, unexpectedly gentle after his earlier animosity, and Rhia caught her breath.