Claiming His Shock Heir
‘My God, so it’s true,’ Cara hissed venomously, ‘I’d heard about it in the village, but I thought you’d seen sense, Scott, I thought you’d realised exactly what sort of woman she was. Well, I wish you well of her,’ she spat out, ‘but just remember when she’s warming your bed in future, how much she cost you. There’s no way you’re going to get Daddy’s contract now.’
She whirled into the house before Scott could speak, and Scott turned to Philippa, his face white, his eyes burning bitterly as they ripped savagely into her. ‘Damn you,’ he swore furiously. ‘You always were trouble for me Philippa, you always were and you always will be!’
She was too concerned about Simon to take the time to point out to him that he could have denied Simon’s shrill statement. The crying had stopped, but he was still shivering in her arms.
‘You’ll pay for this,’ Scott told her angrily. ‘You can damn well be sure of that.’
‘What do you want me to do? Tell Simon to apologise to her? Was it my fault that he saw you in my room?’
‘I never said a thing about marrying you. I suppose he got that from you, a sop to your conscience. Well, let me tell you.…
‘No, let me tell you.’ Philippa stormed back at him. ‘Your precious Cara wanted to marry you and she was going to use her daddy’s buying power to make sure she got you. Go to her now, I’m sure you’ll soon be able to convince her it was all a tiresome mistake; just a silly jealous little boy who’s become far too fond of a man who doesn’t give a damn about the feelings of anyone but himself. Go ahead… what’s stopping you?’
‘That,’ Scott told her flatly as they both caught at the same time the sound of the expensive engine of Cara’s car firing up. ‘Have you any idea how much you just cost me? I could lose everything, do you realise that?’ He turned on his heel and left before she could say another word.
* * *
In the morning Simon was so wan and listless that Philippa told him to stay in bed.
‘Don’t worry about him, Philippa, I’ll go up and sit with him for a while,’ Eve assured her.
‘You know what happened?’
‘Not really. Scott came in in a foul temper before dinner and said that Cara had left and that we could say goodbye to the American contract. He said something about Simon causing a scene.…’
‘Simon’s been very jealous of Cara. She rubs him up the wrong way, deliberately I’m sure.’ She couldn’t admit even to Eve that for a moment she had half expected Simon to state that Scott was his father and that she was still having cold shudders at the thought of it. It wasn’t fair of Scott to blame Simon and her for losing the contract though. He could easily have gone after Cara. Her storming out had been more for effect than anything else, and she had expected Scott to follow her, Philippa was quite sure. She had thought she had him over a barrel and perhaps Scott had sensed that too. And he was, after all, not the man to dance to any woman’s fiddling.
CHAPTER SIX
‘WELL, well, public enemy Number One,’ Hank teased lightly. Philippa sighed as she removed the cover from her typewriter. ‘Ah, you’ve heard about last night.’
‘In vivid technicolour,’ he affirmed. ‘Cara came storming into the pub just as I was sitting down to eat. You’ve made yourself an enemy there.’ He was watching her speculatively, and Philippa wondered how much credence he had placed on what Cara had told him.
‘You must be pleased though,’ she said dryly.
‘You mean that with Scott out of the running she might turn to me? Could be. She’s flying home in two days, and I’ve offered to go with her. She’s convinced herself that she’s a very fragile flower and right at the moment she needs someone to hold her hanky and dry her eyes. Scott owes me some leave and we’re slack enough for me to be able to take it.’ He frowned. ‘Of course, it’s going to create cash flow problems with this new machine. Scott hasn’t got any more orders in the pipeline.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better go and clear my desk if I’m going to take time off. See you later.’
It was after lunch when the phone rang. Philippa hadn’t seen Scott all day and she picked it up automatically. ‘Pippa, my dear, how are you?’ She gasped at hearing Sir Nigel’s voice and wondered why her old employer was ringing. She exchanged pleasantries for several seconds and then he said convivially, ‘I think I might be able to put a little business your new employer’s way, my dear. Sheikh Raschid is over from Qu’har, and it seems he’s very interested in equipping the police force with an up-to-date computer. It could be the first of several; they can certainly afford it. He asked me if I could recommend anyone, and I thought immediately of Garston. He does have a formidable reputation and he’s working on something rather revolutionary at the moment isn’t he? Is he there?’
‘Not at the moment.’
‘Umm, well Raschid is over here for a week, so that doesn’t leave much time. Would you ask him to give me a ring when he comes back? I thought we might arrange a meeting, get Raschid up there so that they can talk to one another. He sends you his best by the way.’ Philippa could tell that Sir Nigel was smiling and repressed a small grin herself. The charming liquid-eyed Arab had been very gallant to her on his last visit, and she rather enjoyed their very mild flirtation, even if she was too sensible to deceive herself that it was anything more than that.
‘I’ll tell Scott just as soon as he comes in,’ she promised.
The rest of the staff had gone home before Philippa finally decided to call it a day. There was no sign of Scott’s car and on a sudden impulse she headed for the woods, enjoying the playing of the light evening breeze across her skin, telling herself she was a coward for not returning to the house and facing Simon. For the sake of her son she must leave Garston, and she would have to tell Scott that. He had eyes, he could see how attached to him Simon was getting. He had already witnessed how dangerous it could be, surely he wouldn’t refuse to release them now?
By the time the Hall was in sight again she was feeling much calmer, although she couldn’t help wishing that neither Eve Garston nor Simon himself were aware that Scott was his father. Although she couldn’t entirely discount the fact that Simon shared an interest in computer science with Scott, she wondered if he would have become so emotionally involved with him if he hadn’t known that Scott was his father, and yet she couldn’t find it in her heart to blame Simon. It was only natural that he should be drawn to Scott. No, if anyone was to blame it was her. Just for a moment she allowed herself to imagine how her life might have been if she had not listened to Jeffrey Garston; if she had not been seventeen and so innocently in love that he had been able to mould and use her as a weapon against his grandson. It was too late for regrets now, she reminded herself. Scott was too bitter for her to be able to approach him with the truth, and even if he wasn’t her pride would prevent her from telling him. No doubt he would quickly accuse her of playing on his sympathies and she could hardly expect him to shoulder the responsibility of a child he didn’t even know he had fathered. No, matters were best left as they were, although the sooner she and Simon left Garston the better!
Eve was dining out again, she had several friends in the neighbourhood, and Philippa couldn’t help comparing her gracious, kind manner with that of her boorish father-in-law. Jeffrey Garston had never been popular in the area, and Philippa suspected that there might be some truth in the rumour that his fatal heart attack had been brought on by his discovery that the grandson he had always hated had done so well for himself. Had he guessed that Scott would purchase the estate on his death? And Scott, did he ever regret doing so? She had seen how much it cost him to run the house; the rental from the home farm alone could never even have paid the rates. No wonder Scott was so anxious about this new computer, and she had, indirectly, been responsible for him losing the contract. There seemed no doubt that he had lost it, even Hank had believed that. His love for Cara didn’t blind him to her faults; she could be vindictive as only spoiled teenagers could be and her father had never been known to refuse her anything she wanted.
When she returned to the house the first thing Philippa saw was Scott’s car parked outside. That meant that he was back, and she wondered bleakly if he had perhaps been to see Cara, in an attempt to get her to change her mind. She suspected that the only thing that would change Cara’s mind now was a wedding ring and Scott didn’t seem prepared to offer that.
She went upstairs to find Simon still in bed, but looking much more cheerful than he had done that morning.
‘You realise that you’ve been very, very rude, don’t you, Simon,’ she chastised him gently, ‘and that it was quite wrong of you to say what you did?’
‘It was true, he was in your bed, I saw him.’ He sounded truculent and avoided her eyes. Suppressing a sigh Philippa took his hand. It was larger than her own, brown and thin, but still a child’s hand.