The Carlotta Diamond

‘I couldn’t find an escort.’

‘Now, that I don’t believe. But should it ever happen in the future, come anyway, and I promise I’ll never leave your side,’ Anthony winked at her.

‘Your wife might have something to say about that,’ Charlotte teased.

Sighing, Anthony said, ‘There are times I wish I’d stayed a bachelor gay.’

‘Now, that I don’t believe.’

He grinned. ‘Touché.’

‘You must know that in the literary world yours and Renee’s marriage is held up as a shining example of how good it can be.’

‘It doesn’t come much better,’ he admitted. ‘I think every man should have a wife, don’t you agree?’ He glanced at Charlotte’s companion as if expecting some male support.

When Rudy said nothing, Anthony turned his attention back to Charlotte. ‘What do you think of the theme?’

‘Love it. Candles create such a wonderfully intimate atmosphere.’

‘A romantic at heart! I always suspected it, in spite of that cool businesswoman air you cultivate. Now there are lots of people here you’ll know, so do you want to just circulate? Or would you like me to introduce you to a couple of our new authors?’

‘Just circulate, I think,’ Charlotte said.

He kissed her hand. ‘In that case, help yourselves to some champagne and go mingle.’

As they obeyed, and were greeted by people Charlotte knew, she introduced her handsome escort with a feeling of pride. But though Rudy smiled and acknowledged each new acquaintance politely, it soon became obvious that he was ill at ease and hating every minute of it.

She was wondering why, as most of the conversation, far from being confined to books, was general and lively, when a sudden stir indicated the arrival of the Press.

‘Hell!’ Rudy muttered. It was a possibility he should have foreseen, but hadn’t.

‘What’s wrong?’ she breathed, seeing the hint of panic in his brown eyes.

‘Blasted photographers.’

‘I can’t imagine they’ll be long. It’s just a necessary spot of publicity.’

Turning his head, he whispered in her ear, ‘Mind if I vanish for a time? If my picture should happen to get into the papers the powers that be will discover I’m not where I’m supposed to be, and that could mean big trouble.’

Feeling guilty that he’d neglected his job to come with her, she whispered back, ‘Go by all means.’

He excused himself, and, putting his empty glass on the nearest table, disappeared into the crowd.

As though his exit had sparked it off, the little group they had been standing with began to break up. Some, hoping for their share of publicity, gravitated towards the photographers. Others drifted towards the adjoining room, where a buffet supper had been set out, and a piano was being played softly.

Deciding to wait where she was until Rudy came back, Charlotte accepted another glass of champagne and, setting her back against the wall, sipped it idly while she indulged in a spot of people-watching.

She was smiling, amused by the antics of the ones still trying to get their picture in the papers, when a frisson of awareness told her that she herself was being watched.

Standing in the shadows, Simon Farringdon thought that she was the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. No wonder Rudy appeared to be completely besotted.

Even his host, whom he knew to be happily married, clearly wasn’t unaffected. Greeting him warmly, Anthony had said, ‘Great to see you. I thought you were still in New York.’

‘Just got back.’

‘Well, I’m delighted you could drop in. Help yourself to some champagne, and if you’re still looking for a perfect woman I’ll introduce you to Charlotte Christie. As well as being really nice, she’s a true beauty, with character. Unfortunately she already has a somewhat surly escort.’

‘I think in that case I’ll skip it,’ Simon had refused lightly. ‘You won’t want any unseemly brawls at your party.’

‘Charlotte is certainly the kind of woman men would fight over,’ Anthony had said.

And he hadn’t been far wrong, Simon realised now. That mouth and those wonderful eyes, upward-tilted at the outer corners, the prominent cheekbones and slightly hollowed cheeks, gave her the kind of haunting, poignant beauty that affected the spirit and senses and made willing slaves of men.

Or at least some men.

Though he could already feel a strong pull of sexual attraction, he had no intention of being one of them.

When Lucy—terrified that this time Rudy was engaged in something far more serious than his previous flings and might leave her—had begged for Simon’s help, his first thought had been to find the girl and pay her off.

It had come as a nasty shock to discover that Rudy’s latest amour and Maria’s granddaughter were one and the same.

Then all the pieces had clicked into place. The morning Rudy had called at the Hall he must have overheard enough to arouse his curiosity and set him off on the trail of Maria or her descendants.

He’d clearly lost no time, and now he had not only a beautiful lover—if lovers they were—but also one who would soon be worth a small fortune.

Poor Lucy.

Except that Rudy wasn’t going to get away with it, Simon vowed, no matter what it took, he would put an end to the affair.

The Press were departing now, and in the milling crowd Charlotte could see no one looking in her direction. But still the sensation persisted, like a cold breath of disquiet, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck, making her shiver.

Then, turning her head a little, she saw a man standing in deep shadow beyond the range of the flickering candles. He was watching her intently.

Just for an instant their eyes met.

She recoiled from the shock as though from a blow, so unnerved that if she hadn’t been in a room full of people, she would have turned on her heel and run…

‘Sorry I’ve been so long.’ Rudy materialised by her side. ‘I thought those blasted photographers would never go.’ Then, catching sight of her expression, ‘If you’re upset about it I can only—’

‘I’m not.’

‘You look upset.’

‘Not with you, honestly. It’s just that a strange man was staring at me.’

He laughed. ‘With looks like yours you ought to be used to men staring at you.’

‘This was different,’ Charlotte insisted.

‘So where is your strange man?’

‘Over there.’ She stopped abruptly; the shadowy corner where the man had been standing was empty. ‘He’s gone,’ she said stupidly.

‘So there’s nothing to worry about. He was no doubt thinking of coming over to chat you up, and when I appeared he changed his mind.’

If only she could believe that. But she couldn’t. Though she’d met the stranger’s glance for only a split-second, she knew there had been nothing light or flirtatious in the look. It had been as cold and piercing, as lethal, as a stiletto.

She shivered.

Seeing that involuntary movement, Rudy said in surprise, ‘You really have let it bother you.’

Then, deciding to seize his chance, he urged, ‘Look, we don’t have to stay for supper. You’re obviously not enjoying the evening, so suppose we get out of here and go back to my place?’

As she began to shake her head, he added, ‘If you’re hungry, we can always stop for a bite to eat on the way.’

‘I’ve got a better idea,’ she said. ‘When you take me home, instead of just dropping me off, come in and I’ll cook you some supper.’

He hesitated. Ending up at her flat wasn’t quite what he’d had in mind, but it was still a big step forward. It was the first time she had invited him back, so presumably the flatmate she’d mentioned would be out and they would be alone.

‘That sounds great,’ he said with a smile.

As far as he was concerned, one bed was as good as another, and in some ways it would be safer. If they went back to the Mayfair flat there was always a chance that they might leave some trace of their presence, and it wouldn’t do for Simon to find out. Though his brother-in-law never swore or raised his voice, he was formidable when angry.

Rudy sighed. While he was still beholden to Simon, he couldn’t afford to rock the boat. But once he had Charlotte and her money in the palm of his hand, it would be a different story.

CHAPTER TWO

‘LEAVING so soon?’ Anthony asked in surprise, when they went to say their thanks and goodbyes.

‘I’m afraid Charlotte has a migraine coming on,’ Rudy said mendaciously.

‘Oh?’ Turning to Charlotte, Anthony said, ‘I didn’t know you suffered from migraine. Nasty things. Do you get them often?’

Charlotte, who had never had a migraine in her life, answered, ‘No, I don’t.’

‘Just as well. I’ve always found that—’

‘We’d better be off,’ Rudy broke in quickly. ‘The sooner she’s in bed, the happier I’ll be.’

‘I’m sure.’ Anthony’s voice was dry.

In silence they retrieved their coats and were shown out. As they walked towards the car, Charlotte asked vexedly, ‘Why on earth did you tell Anthony I had a migraine?’

‘I had to tell him something.’ Rudy sounded sulky.

‘Anthony’s no fool. He knew perfectly well we were lying to him.’

‘And that bothers you?’

‘Yes, it does rather. So far we’ve had a good professional relationship—’

‘Which obviously means a great deal more to you than our relationship,’ Rudy groused.

‘No, of course it doesn’t. But goodness knows what he’s thinking.’

‘Does it matter a toss what he’s thinking?’ Rudy demanded angrily.

Charlotte bit her lip. All in all it had been a far from pleasant evening, and now they were quarrelling.

‘No, I suppose not,’ she said, slipping her arm through his.

But it did matter. And they both knew it.

The knowledge cast an additional blight on the evening, and during the journey back to Bayswater the tension was palpable. Charlotte could think of nothing to say, and Rudy drove in a moody silence, a scowl marring his handsome features.

His bad mood was by no means improved when they reached the flat and Sojo, who had apparently seen the car draw up, opened the door.

Finding that Charlotte and he wouldn’t be alone after all came as a nasty shock. Though so far everything had gone wrong, he’d been cherishing high hopes that a kiss-and-make-up situation might be just what was needed to get her into bed.

Now, seething with rage and disappointment, he realised that all his hopes were undoubtedly dashed and, after battling to come tonight, he’d be no further forward in his plans for Charlotte.

It was only too obvious from his expression how he felt, and Charlotte found herself wishing that she had never invited him back.

At that point, if he’d announced his intention of going, she would have made no attempt to stop him. But as he continued to stand there staring resentfully at Sojo, she took a deep breath and introduced them.

‘Hi! Pleased to meet you,’ the blonde said with casual cheerfulness. ‘Come on in.’

‘Rudy’s staying to eat with us,’ Charlotte explained as they went inside.

Looking horrified, the other girl protested, ‘I know it’s my turn to get supper, but I do hope you’re not expecting me to cook?’

‘No. I’ve already volunteered.’

Taking Rudy’s coat, Sojo hung it on the rack and, ushering him towards the couch, told him, ‘Which is just as well if you want to stay on friendly terms with your stomach.’

Plonking herself down beside him, she went on, ‘Cooking is definitely not my strong point. When it’s my turn to get supper we usually have sandwiches or a take-away. It’s Charlotte provides all the culinary delights. So what have we to look forward to, chef?’

‘Will a quick paella do?’

‘Wonderful!’ Sojo said. ‘I’ll be happy to set the table, and wash up afterwards.’ Then, turning to Rudy, ‘I understand you come from the States. Which part?’

‘Though my family now live in New York, I was born on the West Coast,’ Rudy replied.

Sojo sighed. ‘One of my dreams has always been to drive down Route 66.’

‘I once did it with a group of teenaged friends in a battered old Chevy…’

Furious with Charlotte for spoiling the evening, and with some idea of getting his own back, he set himself out to be charming to Sojo.

She responded by hanging on to his every word and fluttering her eyelashes at him, while Charlotte went through to the bedroom to exchange her dress for a belted chenille housecoat, before starting supper.

While the paella finished cooking, Sojo set the table and opened a bottle of Frascati, though she herself only drank fruit juice.

When they sat down to eat and she reached to pour the wine, Charlotte shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I’ve had more than enough champagne. Rudy?’

‘I think I will have a glass.’ He spoke to Sojo rather than Charlotte.

While the uncomfortable meal progressed and the conversation gradually faltered and died, his face growing ever more moody, he emptied the bottle.

Looking on, Sojo said nothing.

As soon as their plates were empty, concerned because he was driving, Charlotte made some strong coffee and refilled his cup several times.

When he rose to go, she asked carefully, ‘Are you sure it’s wise to drive? If you want to leave the car where it is, we could always ring for a taxi.’

‘No need, I’ll be fine,’ he answered ungraciously. Shrugging into his coat, he added, ‘It isn’t as if I’m paralytic.’

Feeling miserable and apprehensive, she accompanied him downstairs and opened the street door.

Seeing he was about to leave her without a word, she put a hand on his sleeve. ‘I’m afraid the evening hasn’t been much of a success.’

‘No, it hasn’t.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Unwilling to let him go without making some effort at reconciliation, she put her arms around his neck and touched her lips to his.

He pulled her close and, his passion fuelled by anger and frustration, began to kiss her with a fierceness that was punitive.

Shaken, she took a moment or two to realise that, framed in the lighted doorway, they were clearly visible to anyone passing. Disliking the idea of being on show, she made a determined attempt to free herself.

Angered afresh by what he saw as her rejection, he turned away abruptly.

‘Rudy,’ she addressed his retreating back, ‘when will I see you again?’

‘I’ll be in touch,’ he promised shortly.

With a heavy heart she closed the door and returned to the flat to find Sojo standing by the window.

Glancing over her shoulder, the blonde said drily, ‘Wasn’t he delighted to see me?’

Shaking her head, Charlotte said, ‘It wasn’t just that. Earlier we’d had a bit of a tiff.’

‘I wondered why he was venting his anger on you. What did you have a bit of a tiff about?’

Charlotte explained.

‘It doesn’t seem much to put him in such a foul mood. Unless he’s the kind of man who hates to be wrong-footed.’

Then curiously Sojo enquired, ‘Why did you want to leave the party so early? Or is that a rude question?’

‘Rudy wasn’t enjoying it, and I was upset. You see, when I was on my own for a while I noticed a man standing watching me.’

Seeing the look on Charlotte’s face, the other said sharply, ‘What happened? Did he insult you in some way?’

‘No. He just kept staring.’

Relaxing, Sojo opined, ‘He was probably hoping to get off with you.’

‘That’s more or less what Rudy said when he got back, but it wasn’t that kind of look at all.’

‘What was this strange man like? Tall? Short? Young? Old?’

‘I don’t really know,’ Charlotte said helplessly. ‘It was all over in a split-second. He was standing in deep shadow, and all I noticed were his eyes. A moment later, when I tried to point him out to Rudy, he’d vanished.’ She shivered.

Sojo frowned. ‘It isn’t like you to get all upset over nothing.’

‘It wasn’t nothing. There was so much animosity in his look. I felt…unnerved…I didn’t want to stumble across him again, and when Rudy suggested that we left I couldn’t wait to go. I just wish he hadn’t lied to Anthony.’

‘As that seems to have started it all, I bet he’s been wishing the same.’

‘I’m sorry he was in such a bad mood, especially when I wanted you to like him.’

‘I take it you didn’t warn him I’d be home?’ Sojo said.

‘No.’

‘Well, at least seeing him in a not so good light gave me a more rounded view than if he’d been on his best behaviour.’

‘So what did you think of him?’ Charlotte asked.

‘I thought he was every bit as handsome as you said. Very Byronic. I fancied him something rotten.’

‘I’m glad you liked him in spite of everything.’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Sojo pointed out.

‘But you said you fancied him.’

‘I lusted after him. But lust has very little to do with liking.’

‘Then you didn’t like him?’ Charlotte was dismayed.

‘No. And before you get any ideas, it wasn’t just because of his mood. In some ways that was understandable. I dare say he was hoping to kiss and make up, big time, and finding me waiting must have been a nasty blow. Disappointment’s a sharp thorn,’ Sojo added reflectively, ‘and if he’d tried to make the best of things I would have given him full marks. But he was petty and vindictive, which is an unpleasant combination. If you just wanted to jump into bed with him, have yourself some fun and then walk away, I’d say go for it. But I know that isn’t your scene, and I’d hate to think of you getting emotionally involved with a man like that.’

Her voice a little uncertain, Charlotte said, ‘My, you have got it in for him.’

‘I don’t want to see you get hurt, and if you let yourself fall for him you will be.’

‘How can you be so sure after just one meeting?’ Charlotte asked.

‘In case you haven’t noticed, he has a petulant mouth and a weak chin. Oh, and while I’m being completely frank, I don’t think he’s to be trusted.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Experience.’

Seeing Charlotte’s downcast expression, she added, ‘You know what they say, Good judgement comes from experience. Experience comes from bad judgement. I’m not just being rotten…And I’m not trying to put you off him because I fancy him myself.’

‘No, I know you’re not.’

‘I just feel there’s something not quite right about him. But now I’ve had my say, forget it. You’re not a child. What you do with your life is up to you. If you’re already emotionally involved, I’ll just have to hope I’m wrong. By the way, does he have a minder?’ Sojo asked.

‘A minder?’ Charlotte echoed.

‘You know, someone who keeps tabs on him to make sure he’s OK.’

‘No. What on earth gave you that idea?’

‘When you set off for the party, a silver car followed you.’

‘Why shouldn’t it? It’s a public road.’ Charlotte shrugged.

‘Later there was some kind of disturbance outside—a drunk, I think. I was still at the window when you drew up. A silver car followed you back.’

‘There must be hundreds of silver cars in London.’

‘It was the same one,’ Sojo insisted.

‘A coincidence, surely.’

‘It parked a little way up the street and when he drove away just now, it followed him again. Too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?’

‘It certainly seems odd. Next time I see Rudy, I’ll mention it to him,’ Charlotte said thoughtfully.

‘When are you seeing him again?’

‘I’m not sure. He said he’d be in touch.’

‘Presumably when he gets over his pique,’ Sojo said drily.

The following morning when the girls were just finishing their toast and coffee, the phone shrilled. Charlotte answered.

Sounding rushed and flustered, Rudy said, ‘I’ve only got a second. A short while ago my boss rang to say I’m needed in New York. Which is a blasted nuisance, but there’s no way I can get out of it.’

‘When will you be going?’ Charlotte asked.

‘I’m off to the airport now. The company car will be picking me up any second.’

‘How long will you be away?’

‘At the moment I’ve no idea. Not too long, I hope. I’ll be in touch as soon as I get back…’

Before she could even say goodbye, he was gone.

‘That was short and sweet,’ Sojo commented. ‘Wudolf, I take it?’

‘Yes.’ Charlotte frowned. ‘Apparently his firm is sending him to New York.’

‘For good?’ She sounded hopeful.

‘No.’

‘When will he be going?’

‘He should be on his way to the airport now.’

‘Funny he didn’t mention it last night when we were talking about the States,’ Sojo commented.

‘His boss only told him this morning.’

‘Now, that’s what you might call short notice. How long will he be gone for?’

‘He doesn’t know.’

As Sojo’s eyebrows shot up, she added, ‘But he said he’d be in touch as soon as he gets back.’

‘I wasn’t aware all the communication links between the US and the UK had been scrapped.’

‘When he’s working he’s probably too busy to think of anything else,’ Charlotte excused.

Sojo grunted. ‘If you ask me, he’s fed up with getting nowhere and he’s giving you the brush-off in favour of fresh fields and pastures new.’

Then, seeing Charlotte’s face, ‘Sorry, that was uncalled-for.’

‘Not at all; you may well be right.’

‘If it’s going to cause you serious pain, I’d sooner be wrong.’

‘Not too serious,’ Charlotte said as lightly as possible. ‘And if he’s the sort to do that, then I’m better off without him.’

‘That’s what I like to hear! Lord, is that the time? If I’m late for work I’ll be hearing things I don’t want to hear. By the way, I won’t be in for a meal tonight. It’s Mandy’s birthday, and a gang of us are going to paint the town. Want to join us?’ Sojo asked.

‘No, thanks.’

‘Sure?’

‘Quite sure. The last time I joined your gang it took me a week to recover.’

‘What’s the point of painting the town if you don’t do it in style? And as it happens I’ve some holiday due to me that I have to take before the new year, so when tomorrow’s over I don’t need to go into work until next Thursday. Four mornings of sleeping in late. Four whole days with nothing to do but laze about. Sheer bliss.’

‘You know perfectly well that by Tuesday you’ll be bored to tears,’ Charlotte pointed out with a smile.

Sojo grinned. ‘How well you know me. So maybe I’ll do a bit of sketching. The old man who lives across the road has an interesting face. See ya!’

When the other girl had hurried off, Charlotte cleared away and washed the breakfast dishes. Then, dressed in a grey skirt and top, her hair in a neat chignon, went down the back stairs to the shop.

One side was taken up by rows of shelves. On the other, between book-lined walls, there were several comfortable armchairs interspersed with low tables.

A hotplate, cups and all the necessary paraphernalia for ‘help yourself’ coffee were on a nearby trolley.

Providing free coffee for customers had proved a great success. Browsers, who in the past would have walked out empty-handed, now frequently stayed to drink and read, and ended up buying.

Having unlocked the shop door, she put two glass jugs of coffee on to heat, and brought fresh milk from the small fridge in her storeroom-cum-office.

The old-fashioned bell jangled discordantly and an elderly man came in and headed for New Fiction. He was followed by two women, then a moment later by a young man she guessed was a student, who made for the second-hand section.

Fridays were quite often busy, and this looked like being busier than usual. As well as needing to update the computer files and chase up some special orders, there was still yesterday’s delivery of new stock to be unpacked.

Margaret, who normally dealt with such tasks, was on holiday until the following day. A retired librarian, she had proved to be a godsend, and during the last week Charlotte had missed her help.

But it would be as well to keep busy, she told herself firmly. It would leave little time for too much thinking or repining.