Mistress of Deception

Now those black eyes blazed with indignation. 'Did they?' She shook her head. 'Well, maybe Papa did in his own selfish way, especially since I looked like him. But not Mama. She never loved me. She only had me because she thought a child would bind Papa to her forever. She never had any love left over for me.'

Alan almost sighed with relief. This was not as bad as he'd been fearing.

Daughters often thought mothers didn't love them, especially when competing for their father's love. He'd heard the same complaints from Vicki when she'd been about thirteen. Still, he had to agree with Ebony that her parents had seemed rather self-absorbed in their lifestyle.

'I'm sure Judith loved you,' he soothed. 'She was a very warm woman.'

'How would you know what Mama was?' Ebony challenged. 'By your own admission you hardly ever saw my parents.'

'Maybe not after they got married, but I knew your mother quite well beforehand.'

'You did?'

'Judith was my father's secretary for years. Didn't you know?'

Ebony was clearly astonished by this news.

So was Alan by her reaction. 'Didn't your mother ever tell you how she

met your father?' he asked incredulously.

'Never. She—er—didn't really talk to me about anything much. Neither

did Papa for that matter.'

Alan frowned. It sounded as if Ebony's parents had been more than

selfish in their treatment of their daughter. Downright neglectful seemed

closer to the mark. He recalled his own mother having commented about

Ebony's 'withdrawn' manner shortly after coming to live with them. At the

time, he'd thought it grief. Now he saw it for what it was: intense loneliness.

God, he must have been blind back then not to notice how grateful Ebony

had been for any crumbs of affection and attention. She'd fairly glowed when

he and his mother had made the effort to show up for every single one of

her school functions, and then whenever he'd taken her out in the holidays.

Hell, the child had been literally starved for love. He could see that now.

Yet it seemed Judith had been the guiltier party when it had come to

withholding affection, a fact which surprised him. As he'd told Ebony, she'd

always seemed a sensitive woman, not like Pierre, who'd never struck Alan

as a man of any great emotional depth. Admittedly, he was charming and

intelligent, and his generous loan of money after Alan's father's death had

been a godsend. It had come out later, however, that Pierre had been a risk-

taker of the first order. He'd made many wild investments. Some had paid

off. Others hadn't. In the end, most hadn't, and he'd died stony broke.

'Well, as I said,' Alan went on when he realised Ebony was waiting for him to continue, 'Judith was my father's secretary. That's how she first came to meet Pierre. He was in Australia buying wool for a large French manufacturing company and he visited Dad's clothing factory to see some of the fine woollen garments made here. Dad brought him home for dinner a couple of times. I was only a boy at the time and found him quite fascinating.'

'Papa could be very fascinating,' Ebony agreed drily. 'When he needed to be.'

'What do you mean by that exactly?'

'I mean when he wanted to impress a woman. I presume your father brought his secretary to these dinners to make up the numbers?'

'I think she came to one.'

'And Papa took Mama home afterwards?'

'I can't really recall.'

Ebony smiled a smile that chilled Alan's bones. 'He would have. And he would have stayed the night. What has always puzzled me is why he married Mama at all. It wasn't to have children. He didn't like them particularly, though I think he was almost fond of me.'

'More than fond, I would think. But maybe your mother was not as accommodating as you have presumed, Ebony. Maybe she was not that kind of girl.'

'Or maybe she was simply cleverer than the others. You know what, Alan? I think you're right.

I think she refused to sleep with him. That's the only thing that would have got Papa to the altar, of that I'm sure.'

'There is another solution,' he suggested, finding her cynicism unnerving. 'Pierre might have truly fallen in love with Judith.'

'Papa?' Ebony laughed. 'Don't be ridiculous, Alan. He had no concept of true love.'

'He never divorced her.'

'Which wasn't because he loved her, though she did love him, if one could call what she felt—love. I call it a sickness. There was nothing she wouldn't do for him, including turning a blind eye to his bedding every available woman he could get his hands on. Of course, when it was someone under her own roof, she did fire them. Over the years, I lost count of the number of nannies and companions and tutors and housekeepers we had. It wasn't till I caught Papa with one of them in bed that I realised what was going on.'