A Wicked Persuasion

‘Harriet and I will have ours in the study, love,’ said James.

‘Thank you for a delicious meal, Mrs Graveney,’ said Harriet, surprised to see a look of sympathy in Moira’s distinctive hazel eyes.

‘Do call me Moira. But you weren’t hungry, were you?’

‘On a diet?’ said Claudia sweetly.

‘No. Just a bit tired.’

‘Unlike some people, lazybones, Harriet’s been slaving away all day,’ said Lily in typical sister fashion. ‘And you’re the one on a diet—not that it’s working.’

‘Now then, girls,’ said their brother, and waved them away. ‘You carry on, James. I’ll send coffee in for you.’

James led Harriet to a very masculine panelled room. ‘This is Marcus’s retreat, where sermons were written in the past. When they moved here shortly after their marriage earlier this year, a study was his top priority. Moira’s was the large garden we never had when we were young.’

Harriet sat down in the big leather chair he held out for her and got to the point. ‘So have you brought me in here to read me a sermon, James?’

He held up a hand and went to the door to let in Claudia with a tray. ‘Thanks, sweetheart.’

She reached up and tapped his cheek with a red-tipped finger. ‘Don’t be long.’

Harriet smiled politely as James handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Thank you. So what did you want to talk about?’

He sat behind the desk, the dark-rimmed hazel irises spearing hers. ‘No sermon, but I want some information before I meet your father—for the first time, incidentally, even though he tried to get me sacked from Combe Computers. Does he know who he’s dealing with?’

Harriet raised an eyebrow. ‘Tried?’

He nodded. ‘George Lassiter didn’t actually sack me all those years ago, Harriet. He merely transferred me up to his Newcastle outfit, which got me far away from you, as your father wanted, but kept me very firmly on George’s payroll. He even gave me a rise. I was really good at my job, remember. Or had you forgotten?’

‘No. I hadn’t forgotten.’ Anything. She looked at him steadily. ‘I haven’t told my father who you are other than the client paying good money to hire River House for a party.’

He eyed her grimly. ‘So when I introduce myself he might cancel the whole idea!’

Harriet shook her head. ‘It’s all signed and sealed. My father can’t back out.’ Nor would he if it meant losing such easy money.

‘When Ms Brewster suggested River House as a location I thought I was hearing things.’ James’s smile sent shivers down her spine. ‘It was just too good to pass up.’

‘For payback?’

‘What else?’ He frowned. ‘Yet you don’t actually live in the house any more. What the devil are you doing alone at the Lodge?’

‘I wanted a place of my own.’

‘I can understand that, but if that was your goal why not live down in the town? Or couldn’t you bear to be too far away from Daddy?’ When she made no response to that he eyed her curiously. ‘I thought you’d be married by now.’

‘Ditto!’

He shook his head. ‘After the treatment you dished out, Miss Wilde, I gave up on relationships and concentrated on the really important things in life—success and money.’

‘With spectacular results. I congratulate you.’ She stood up. ‘If that’s all you wanted I’ll go home now, and let you get back to Claudia.’

He laughed. ‘She’s jealous as hell of you, Harriet.’

She eyed him blankly. ‘Really? Why?’

‘I told her that you and I had a fling together once upon a time.’

‘A fling?’ she said with distaste.

He raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘How else would you describe something so unimportant?’

She dropped her eyes. ‘I never thought of it that way.’

‘I’m surprised you ever thought of it at all!’ he said caustically.

‘Are you?’ She looked at her watch. ‘I really must go. Does ten on Saturday work for you?’

‘Perfectly.’ He opened the door for her.

Harriet caught a whiff of soap and expensive wool as she passed him; and something else that was so familiar and singularly James she felt dizzy.

‘Hey,’ he said quickly, ‘are you all right?’

She forced a smile. ‘Too much coffee, and too many late nights.’

‘You’re as white as a sheet,’ he said roughly. ‘Let me drive you home. I’ll get your car back to you tomorrow.’

‘No! Please, I’m fine. I just need to get to bed.’ And, please God, sleep when she got there.

James eyed her closely as they made for the conservatory. ‘You obviously work too hard,’ he said, the familiar husky tone in his voice more pronounced. ‘No change there; you always did, even as a teenager.’

Moira got up with a welcoming smile as they joined the others. ‘You weren’t long.’

‘Mission accomplished,’ said Harriet, and returned the smile warmly. ‘It’s been such a pleasure to meet you. Thank you again for the delicious dinner.’

Moira’s face fell. ‘Surely you’re not leaving already, dear? It’s early, and I’ve had no chance to talk to you!’

Marcus came to stand by his wife. ‘They obviously work you too hard at your firm, Harriet.’

From the look on Claudia’s face, this plainly meant she looked like a hag. Harriet smiled brightly. ‘It’s a busy time right now.’

‘It’s been lovely to meet you. Please come again,’ said Lily eagerly. ‘We don’t know anyone here.’

‘And never likely to out in the wilds like this,’ complained her sister, and pouted at Marcus. ‘All right for you newly-weds, but not much fun for us.’

He gave her a quelling look and put an arm round his wife. ‘Since you city girls only come here on flying visits it’s hardly a problem.’

Time to go, thought Harriet. I get enough angst with my own family. ‘I really must be off. Thank you again. Goodnight.’

‘I’ll see you out,’ said James.

Claudia scrambled to her feet. ‘I’ll come with you.’

James shook his head. ‘I need to finalise arrangements with Harriet.’

She sat down again abruptly, hiding her flush of mortification behind the fall of pale hair.

‘Do come and see us again soon,’ said Moira, as Harriet left.

‘But you obviously don’t want to come here again, do you?’ demanded James as he saw Harriet to her car.

‘No, I don’t,’ she said frankly. ‘I like your sister and her husband very much, Lily too. Claudia obviously resents me due to this “fling” you mentioned, but the main reason is you, James. You still bear me a grudge.’

His face hardened in the bright security lights. ‘Do you blame me?’

‘Not in the least.’ Harriet slid into the car, switched on the ignition and opened the window. ‘Saturday then.’

‘Saturday it is.’ He gave her an unsettling smile. ‘I’ll be there on the stroke of ten. I’m really looking forward to meeting your father.’

His parting words sent chills down Harriet’s spine as she drove home. Did he intend coming to River House on Saturday for a showdown with her father before cancelling the party? Harriet shivered at the prospect, though she knew exactly why James had asked her to the Old Rectory. He could easily have obtained the information he wanted during a phone call, but instead he had wanted, maybe needed, to demonstrate that he now had a family background like hers. And that he was the object of the sexy Claudia’s passion. He needn’t have bothered about the last. Harriet had no doubt that he’d been the object of several women’s passion over the years. In his twenties he’d been attractive enough, but now he was ten years older he took her breath away.

CHAPTER THREE

ONCE informed of the new venture, Margaret Rogers, well aware of the difficult financial situation and most other things about the Wilde family, began on a frenzy of unnecessary cleaning. The furniture in every room was polished to an even higher gleam, and her husband was called in to wash the windows inside and out. The copper pans above the island in the kitchen were scoured to blinding glory, and Aubrey Wilde volunteered to eat out until after Saturday to keep the kitchen pristine. When Harriet got home on the Friday evening Margaret was waiting to take her on a tour of inspection. River House was looking its best from every possible point of view in the evening sunshine, the hall and drawing room fragrant with the arrangements made by Margaret from blooms and greenery Will had cut in the garden.

‘How hard you’ve worked. It all looks wonderful,’ said Harriet gratefully.

In Julia’s bedroom they stood on the balcony outside the window and looked down on the gardens, which sloped down to the river which gave the house its name.

‘Don’t you miss living up here, Harriet?’ Margaret asked. ‘It still worries me to think of you alone down in that little place.’

‘I like it there.’

‘But surely you’ll get married one day. You can’t act as clerk of the works for the house for ever. It’s not my place to say so, but it’s not natural for a girl to carry such a load on her shoulders.’

‘I promised I would,’ said Harriet.

‘I know.’ The other woman nodded sadly. ‘Your mother would want you to have a life, just the same.’ She patted Harriet’s hand. ‘No offence.’

‘Of course not,’ said Harriet affectionately. ‘Thank you for everything, Margaret. I don’t know what my father would do without you.’

‘I don’t do it for him, dear; I made a promise, too.’ Margaret smiled briskly. ‘And now I must get home and prepare supper for John.’

‘Please thank him for me. He’s been a huge help.’ And would be paid for it, no matter how much he protested.

Her father intercepted her on her way out. ‘Since this telecoms chap wants a marquee, let’s take a stroll round the garden.’

The herbaceous borders edging the lawns in front of the house were just coming into colour. Harriet breathed in the heady scent of newly cut grass as she tried to look at the gardens with the eye of a prospective client. ‘John’s done a great job with the weeding. Will says he wouldn’t have managed it all in time without him.’

‘Good man,’ said Aubrey, and gave her a sidelong look. ‘He’ll need to be paid.’

‘Of course. Now he’s retired, he can do with the money.’

They went on to walk round the four acres of garden together, a new experience to them both recently. It was years since Harriet had spent any real time alone in her father’s company. When they got back to the house he suggested a look round inside, but she told him she’d been over it earlier with Margaret.

‘She’s done even more wonders than usual, the house looks perfect.’

‘But it’s not,’ said her father heavily. ‘It would only be perfect if you came back home to live in it.’

She shook her head. ‘Not going to happen. Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.’

Next morning Harriet woke to the feeling of a cloud hanging over her and groaned at the thought of the morning ahead. In the shower she thought, not for the first time, that the only thing likely to drive her back to live in River House was the lure of a long hot soak in the kind of tub her bathroom was too small to accommodate. She dealt with her hair, tied it back in a skein of half damp curls, dressed in white shirt and jeans and ate some breakfast to get a kick-start to this important day. She couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that James intended turning River House down once he’d inspected it. Thank God he still had no idea her father had once been ready to threaten him with arrest.

Harriet walked up to the house shortly before ten to find her father pacing along the terrace, smartly dressed as always, but visibly tense.

‘Good morning.’ He smiled warily. ‘You look very young and pretty today.’

‘Thank you. You look good yourself.’ Her father never stinted on his wardrobe. ‘Luckily the weather forecast was accurate for once. The gardens look fabulous in this sunshine. Will has worked incredibly hard.’ She tensed at the sound of a car engine changing gears on the bend of the steep drive. ‘Our client’s arrived.’

Harriet waited with her father at the head of the steps, very much aware that his tension equalled her own. When James got out of a black convertible, wearing clothes much like hers, she saw her father relax and wished she could do the same.

‘Looks like a decent sort of chap—that’s an Aston Martin Volante,’ he said in an undertone, and Harriet stood rigid with apprehension as James mounted the steps towards them. ‘Good morning,’ said her father, smiling genially. ‘Welcome to River House. I’m Aubrey Wilde.’

‘James Crawford.’ James returned the smile, looking at him steadily as he shook hands. ‘I’ve already met your daughter, of course. Good morning, Miss Wilde.’

She forced her stiff lips to smile. ‘Good morning. Isn’t it a lovely day? Shall we start the tour in the garden, or would you prefer to see over the house first?’

‘The gardens, please. With luck, the weather will be good on the day and we’ll have no need to trespass in the house.’

‘We won’t look on it as trespass, Crawford,’ Aubrey assured him. ‘Come in and look around. Harriet will give you the grand tour, and then we can have coffee before going on to the gardens.’

One look at James had been reassurance enough for her father. He was obviously still in blissful ignorance about James’s identity, but it was equally obvious that he was now reconciled to letting out River House to him. ‘Is that all right with you?’ she asked James.

He smiled blandly. ‘Of course. It would be a pleasure.’

‘Splendid.’ Aubrey led the way inside. ‘Come back to the kitchen when you’re ready and I’ll have coffee waiting.’

‘If you’ll come this way, then, Mr Crawford,’ said Harriet, and led him along the right-angled hall towards the drawing room at the far end.

‘He hasn’t a clue who he’s dealing with, has he?’ murmured James as they entered a vast sunlit room furnished with comfortable modern pieces living in harmony with the paintings and antiques handed down through Sarah Tolliver Wilde’s family.

‘Do you want me to tell him?’

‘Not if it will make things difficult for you.’ James took in the room, his smile bleak. ‘Now I see inside this place at last, I understand why you couldn’t give it up. But why the hell do you live in the Lodge now?’

‘Personal reasons. Now, if you’ll follow me back down the hall, the dining room is next on the left. Father insists on eating there every night when he’s home.’

‘Good God,’ said James, following her into a large room with a table big enough for a board meeting. ‘Do you eat here with him?’

‘No.’

He looked down into her averted face. ‘You’ve changed a lot, Harriet.’

‘After all these years, that’s hardly surprising.’ She shrugged. ‘You told me to grow up, so I did. Next along is Father’s study—’

‘We needn’t go in there,’ James said quickly.

‘Follow me upstairs, then.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s unnecessary to see more of the house. Let’s concentrate on the gardens.’

‘As you wish.’ She smiled brightly. ‘Shall we have that coffee first?’

Aubrey Wilde was in a convivial mood when they entered the kitchen. ‘I hope you don’t mind drinking your coffee in here.’

James looked at the balloon chairs ranged around a mahogany table at one end, the oak cupboards and creamy counters lining the business end, and the island with gas hobs and canopy hung with gleaming copper pans. ‘Only too pleased. Do you do much cooking, sir?’

Aubrey laughed, smiling sheepishly at his daughter. ‘Afraid not. My wonderful Mrs Rogers does that—been with the family for years.’

Harriet supplied her father with the sweetened brew of his choice, then looked at James in polite question. ‘How do you like yours?’ Though she knew from their meeting that James took his coffee black, as he’d always done. And the look he gave her said he was well aware of it.

‘As it comes, please.’

The two men chatted for a while, but after a few minutes James stood up. ‘If you’re ready for the tour now, Mr Wilde, I need to be off shortly.’

Aubrey sprang to attention. ‘Of course, of course.’

Harriet got to her feet quickly, determined not leave them alone together. ‘If you’re keen to get away, Father, I’ll take Mr Crawford over the gardens.’

‘Splendid. You know more about them than me, anyway,’ said her father. ‘Don’t forget the paddock.’

James thanked him formally and then followed Harriet down the steps to the main lawn to start the tour of the garden. She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard her father’s car start up. It seemed certain, now, that James would keep to his decision to use River House for his party. And her father had no idea who he was, probably because he had simply erased her rebellion from his mind. Not impossible. Her father was an expert at airbrushing unpleasantness from his life.

It was a strange experience to show James round the extensive gardens he had never set foot in before. During their time together in the past she had been so determined to keep their relationship a secret she had always driven to meet him and never allowed him to take her home. His visit to the Lodge to mend her computer had been his sole time spent on the property.

‘It’s a lot bigger than I thought,’ he commented as they crossed the vast lawn. ‘A marquee will be no problem here.’

‘No. My father could have given you more details about that, but—’

‘But you wanted to get him away from me as soon as you could, in case he recognised me and cancelled the whole thing. Is it that important to you, Harriet?’

‘Yes.’ Her chin lifted proudly. ‘We need a new roof.’

‘And you’re willing to take my money to pay for it.’

‘Yes.’ She led the way up the steps to the terrace, desperate now for him to leave so she could recover from the tension of the morning. As they reached the Lodge, Harriet looked up at him in query. ‘Have you seen all you need to see?’

‘Not exactly. May I come in?’

‘Of course.’ What else could she say? She opened the door and went ahead of him into her small sitting room.

‘It looks very different in here now,’ he commented, looking round.

‘I’ve stamped my personality on it over the years.’

‘Years?’ James frowned. ‘How long have you been living here?’

‘I used it to study in as a teenager, if you remember, but since I qualified the Lodge has been my permanent home.’

‘May I sit down?’

‘Of course. Take the sofa.’ Harriet curled up on the window seat.

‘You had a desk in here,’ he observed, after a silence a shade too long for comfort.

‘It lives in my bedroom these days.’ She eyed him warily. ‘Is there anything else you need?’

‘Yes, a chat.’ James leaned back, irritatingly at ease as he dominated the room just by sitting there. ‘When I introduced myself this morning I fully expected to be run off the property. It was an anticlimax to find your father obviously didn’t know me from Adam.’

Harriet nodded. ‘I only spoke about you once in the past, when I said I was going to live with you. I just referred to you as James.’ She frowned. ‘But he must have known your full name to get your boss to fire you—or transfer you, as it turned out.’

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