Mistress to a Millionaire

‘No!’ Put like that it sounded all wrong. ‘No,’ she said again more quietly. ‘Of course not.’

‘Well, that’s what it sounds like,’ he grated tightly.

‘I’m sorry what it sounds like.’ Daisy stared at him. He had been away two weeks and what she wanted to do right now, more than anything in the world, was to fling herself into his arms and feel him against her. She wanted the smell and feel of him all about her, inside her; she wanted to touch him and taste him; she wanted… She wanted the impossible. ‘But I am employed by you as Francesco’s nanny, that’s all,’ she said clearly and steadily, ‘and I am at liberty to terminate that employment, with due notice, any time I like. And…and I had already written out my resignation before you came back today,’ she added painfully. ‘I intended to give it to you as soon as you came home.’

‘And I have no say in this?’ he asked grimly.

‘No.’ She didn’t know where the strength was coming from to talk like this when her heart had been ripped out by the roots and her life blood was draining away. ‘No, you don’t.’

She meant it. Slade stared at her, his min

d searching for a hundred and one arguments and discarding them. And then he said the only thing that mattered. ‘Do you love me, Daisy?’

‘What?’ She had heard him but she needed time to find the courage to lie and make it sound as though she meant it.

‘I said, do you love me?’ he repeated with a determination that told her she would have to answer.

But how could she? Daisy thought sickly. How could she do it?

‘No.’ Just one little word, and softly spoken, but it had the power of a nuclear bomb as it exploded between them.

‘I don’t believe you.’ But he had gone white.

If he asked her to say it again she wouldn’t be able to, not with him looking at her like this and with that terrible expression on his face that had aged him ten years in as many seconds, Daisy acknowledged faintly. She tore her eyes away from his, lowering her head as she said slowly, ‘I’m sorry, Slade.’

There was a long, long pause, and then he said coldly, ‘Don’t be. It’s of no importance.’ There was an even longer pause when neither of them moved or spoke, and then Slade said, ‘But Francesco is important. You agree with this?’

‘Of course.’ She looked at him then, at the grey tinge to his handsome face and the white line of his mouth, and she felt like the worst human being who had drawn breath.

‘I will start advertising for your replacement immediately, but it will take time and I do not want Francesco upset more than necessary,’ Slade bit out grimly. ‘You are willing to stay until we can bring this unfortunate matter to a satisfactory conclusion?’

She said again, ‘Of course,’ and he inclined his head slowly.

‘And I would prefer Francesco to know nothing until the new nanny makes an appearance. She can work with you, as you did with Angelica, yes?’ He narrowed his eyes at her, his face straight.

She nodded. Words were beyond her. And then, as he turned to go, she burst out, ‘I will repay you for the fares for my mother and Rose and Violet, Slade, and of course they must leave immediately—’

‘Do not insult me.’ He swung back with an anger that made her flinch visibly. ‘Your family are my guests for two weeks as arranged, and there will be no talk of payment of any kind. I wanted to do this; it was my decision. And do not think you will be embarrassed by my presence; I leave for Geneva in the morning and I shall be away some weeks.’

This was like an awful nightmare. ‘Slade—’

‘Do not say it, Daisy! Do not say you are sorry or I truly will not be responsible for my actions,’ he said with a violence which shocked her. And then, as she stared at him with agony in her eyes, his expression changed, as though a mask had slipped over his face, concealing all emotion, and he said quietly, ‘You have been honest with me and that is the end of the matter. It is finished.’

He was heaping the burning coals of fire on her head and she didn’t know if she could bear it.

‘Isabella has offered to put Francesco to bed while we have cocktails in the drawing room, and then she will serve dinner at half past eight.’ His voice was clipped and cold. ‘I would suggest you change for dinner now and then perhaps escort your family downstairs when they are ready?’

‘Yes, yes, all right.’ She shouldn’t have said anything, Daisy told herself frantically. It had been the wrong time; she had said it the wrong way. What was she going to do? What was she going to do? ‘Slade? We need to talk about this; we have to talk it through…’ She hardly knew what she was saying, so great was her distress. ‘Please, I want you to understand—’

‘No, Daisy.’ He had actually turned to walk across to his study but now, at her feverish voice, he turned back to face her and it was as though he were a stranger. ‘We have nothing to talk about,’ he said with grim finality. ‘You have expressed yourself very clearly and we both understand the situation fully now.’

There was a white, milky haze in front of her eyes and a buzzing in her ears, but then, as she heard the click of the study door closing, all became crystal-clear and quiet. The emptiness was profound, eternal; it ate her up and swallowed her until every little cell and nerve was part of the consuming vacuum in which the future lay spread out in deep, endless darkness. He had gone; he had walked away from her.

It was over, she had finished it, and it was what she had wanted, wasn’t it?

She stood for desolate blank minutes in the spangled sunlight which fell across the walls and floor in great golden pools, and if the world had ended she wouldn’t even have noticed.

He wouldn’t try again, not now. The feeling that she had just made the biggest mistake in her life—and she had made a few—was trying to force its way out through the void but she wouldn’t let it. She couldn’t weaken now and it was too late anyway.