The Faithful Wife

‘Evie!’ she breathed, her eyes glowing with vindication. And not before time! She would back her up, tell this arrogant beast that any conspiracy was all in his twisted mind. Why should she want him to take her back when he was unable to give her the one thing she craved?

‘Bravo!’ Black eyes glinted with sardonic applause, even a hint of humour. ‘Nice touch. But we both know your sister won’t be showing her face within a hundred miles of this place, don’t we?’

The story about Evie having popped down the road to pick up the groceries was thin, and that was putting it mildly. And Bella was still hamming it up, making a show of listening intently, so he, too, listened to the resounding silence, then snapped out an order.

‘Get your things together while I rake out what’s left of this fire. We’re leaving. I’ll drop you at a hotel.’

The faint sound of the engine had long since faded. A farmer making his way home along one of those tortuous mountain tracks, she decided tiredly. Disappointment hit her like a charging elephant. And then came the cruelly sharp anxiety. She stared at him, frowning, shaking her head.

‘No. I’m staying here, waiting for Evie.’ Didn’t he care that something must have happened? Her happy-go-lucky, impulsive little sister had set out over two hours ago now, promising to be back within thirty minutes. Despite all his faults, he had never been a heartless man. So why wasn’t he concerned?

Because he doesn’t believe you, a weary little voice inside her head confirmed. He thinks the three of you set this up. She couldn’t imagine why Kitty had been invited to share this break, or why she hadn’t arrived yet. And she couldn’t bother her head with it, not while she was so on edge, worrying herself silly over Evie’s whereabouts, fighting to contain the pain of seeing him again.

She wrapped her arms around her body tightly. It was the only way to hold herself together. ‘I’m staying. You go. Just get out of here.’

Stress made her voice tight and thin. He wasn’t going to help find Evie, that was obvious. He didn’t believe there was a thing to worry about, and was, as usual, too sure of himself and his opinions to be persuaded otherwise. But when he’d gone then maybe, with the trauma of actually seeing him again behind her, she could think of what to do.

He gave her a long, considering look, his jaw tight. Then shrugged the beginnings of misgivings away. They’d probably made adequate contingency plans. None of them were fools. Despite their plotting they must have allowed for the possibility of his abrupt removal from the set-up.

Without any doubt she’d have a mobile phone tucked away in her luggage, hidden amongst the filmy folds of the seductive nightwear she favoured, and as soon as he left she’d be using it to summon one or other of the girls to fetch her out of here.

Her pride wouldn’t let her go with him, and he could understand that. Leaving with him would be tantamount to confessing that the star role in this farcical conspiracy was hers.

Bella watched him stride to the door, then sprang after him urgently, catching him up as he was tugging the outer door open.

‘Phone the local police.’ She couldn’t use his name. ‘The first call box or house you come across. Let them know she’s missing. Promise!’

His heart missed a beat then thundered heavily on. He turned to her with warning reluctance, and for the first time he allowed himself to scan the face that had so relentlessly haunted his dreams over the past year. The lovely lines were taut with strain, the perfect skin white and transparent, terror lurking deep in those spellbinding eyes.

And for the first time very real misgivings flooded icily through him as he met his own fallibility. She’d been telling the truth—as she saw it. She wouldn’t involve the police, set an area search in motion simply to save her pride. And if she had a mobile she wouldn’t be asking him to do the phoning.

‘Tell them I’ll be here. I’ll wait.’ Her voice was ragged.

‘OK,’ he said roughly. He turned, then looked back at her. ‘I’ll contact them. And I’ll be back.’

He saw her sag with relief, tears starting in her eyes, and resisted the violent urge to take her in his arms, hold her for a moment and comfort her. He walked quickly into the darkness, his throat tight, dragging his mind away from her.

Thank God it had at least stopped snowing. Even so, there was a good inch of the treacherous stuff underfoot. Swinging into the Range Rover, he reached for the key he’d left in the ignition then put both hands on the wheel, thinking hard.

The events of the last few minutes told him that Bella was desperately worried over her sister’s non-appearance, that her story was true. She really believed that something dreadful must have happened. The shock of discovering that had driven Kitty’s involvement out of his head, while anxiety over Evie’s fate had never allowed it to enter Bella’s.

In all probability they were both the innocent victims of a cruel conspiracy. He’d get to the nearest phone and contact Kitty before he involved the police. If his gut feeling was right, there would be no need.

There was a torch on the passenger seat and he used it to have a look at the time. A few minutes after six. Too early for Kitty and Harry to have gone out for the evening. Too late for her to be shopping. He should catch her at home.

He turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened.

Bella knew she had to pull herself together. Somehow. She moved briskly round the lamplit room, tweaking curtains, plumping up cushions that didn’t need the attention, hoping the futile activities would settle her mind. A mind that was seething with all that was going on.

The shock of seeing Jake, here of all places. His cynical accusations. His cold admission that her absence from his life was a relief. Add Evie’s disappearance to that little lot and you got a brain that was on the brink of blowing.

Sucking in her breath, she flew to the dying fire and carefully placed a few small logs on the embers. If Evie came back the poor love would be cold—She caught the thought, altered it savagely. Not if—when.

The police would soon be out looking for her, and that was an enormous consolation. She was scatty enough to have run out of petrol. Nothing more disastrous than that. And Jake had promised to come back and report, to wait with her.

The thought was deeply comforting. Yet she didn’t want it to be! She wanted him out of her mind. It was the only way.

She turned from the replenished fire, satisfied that the fresh logs were beginning to flame, and Jake walked back in, his face black with temper.