Subtle Revenge Page 4

  ‘I never gave it a thought.’ Which was true. The way Jacob P. Randell had broken her family apart, destroyed it, it had never occurred to her that he could possibly have a family of his own, that there were actually people who loved such a man.

  ‘Mr Hammond has nothing but praise for him,’ Jonathan continued.

  ‘Yes,’ she acknowledged, wondering how such an astute man could be so deceived.

  ‘I wonder if—’

  ‘Jonathan!’ she cut sharply across his words. ‘Do you think we could talk about something other than Luke Randell?’

  A ruddy hue coloured his cheeks. ‘Sorry. I was just—You’re right, what am I doing talking about him when I have you alone at last?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ she mocked.

  ‘Neither do I,’ he grinned. ‘Do I get invited in for coffee?’

  ‘Sally—’

  ‘Went off with her boy-friend hours ago. I think the air of romance got to them,’ Jonathan added with a twinkle in his laughing blue eyes.

  Lori laughed softly, beginning to relax once again. ‘In that case, you do get invited in—for coffee.’

  ‘What else?’ he quipped with pretended hurt.

  She smiled at him, wondering why she had never allowed him this close to her before. As a friend, she was sure, he could be a lot of fun. And she needed fun in her life at the moment, needed to erase a pair of piercing grey eyes from her memory. Along with all the other painful memories meeting Luke Randell had raked up!

  ‘The wedding didn’t introduce an air of romance in me,’ she added teasingly.

  ‘Just my luck!’ Jonathan grimaced.

  Sally and Dave weren’t at the flat when they got in, so Lori knew they must have gone to Dave’s flat instead. Dave was a local electrician, and Sally had met him at a party a couple of months ago. Unfortunately Sally had fallen in love with him—unfortunately, because Dave’s affections seemed to be less engaged. Much to Lori’s embarrassment he had even made a couple of passes at her behind Sally’s back, although not for anything would she hurt her friend by telling her so. She only hoped Sally wasn’t going to get too hurt, had a feeling the relationship meant one thing to Sally and something else completely to Dave.

  ‘Nice place,’ Jonathan looked about the flat appreciatively. ‘But then I knew you would have good taste.’

  Lori looked over at him as he lounged in one of the armchairs. ‘Did you indeed?’ she said dryly, having changed from the long bridesmaid’s dress into a silky dress, looking tall and slender.

  He shrugged. ‘Everything about you is—perfection.’

  Her mouth quirked teasingly. ‘How much champagne did you have today?’

  ‘Not much,’ he dismissed seriously. ‘I don’t need champagne to know how beautiful you are. Luke Randell thought so too,’ he scowled. ‘I should watch him, Lori, his sort play by their own set of rules.’

  ‘I have a few rules of my own,’ she told him stiffly.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes,’ she bit out. ‘I never go out with a man I detest.’ Her eyes glittered her hatred.

  ‘Hey, steady on—!’

  ‘I think you should go now,’ she cut across his embarrassed words. ‘It’s been a long day.’

  ‘Yes, but—Okay,’ he sighed as she saw her determined look. ‘I don’t suppose it would do any good for me to ask you out?’

  She looked at his hopeful expression and her anger instantly faded, the hectic rise and fall of her breasts steadying. Jonathan could have no idea of her inner turmoil, of the deep shock she had received today. It had probably surprised him at the amount of vehemence the usually cool Lori Parker could display at a complete stranger.

  If only Luke Randell had been a stranger, then she would merely have rebuffed his outrageous approach, would probably have forgotten about him by now. But she couldn’t put him from her mind—and heaven knows she was trying to!

  ‘Try me again on Monday,’ she told Jonathan vaguely, wanting more than anything to be on her own for a while. And there was a good chance of her being alone all night. The single bed across from her own was often empty now.

  He grimaced. ‘I’ve heard that before. You’ve been putting me off for six months like that. I thought today I was finally making some impression.’

  She was instantly contrite, smiling at him warmly. ‘How about dinner on Monday?’

  ‘You mean it?’ He suddenly looked younger than his thirty years in his eagerness.

  ‘I mean it,’ she nodded.

  ‘Really? I mean—well, I—’

  ‘If you don’t want to…’

  ‘Don’t you dare change your mind!’ Jonathan stood up to grasp her arms. ‘Don’t you dare!’ He kissed her hard on the mouth. ‘Monday, eight o’clock. I’ll call for you here. And no excuses!’ He was whistling happily, if tunelessly, as he left.

  Lori kept her mind a blank, refusing to question her sudden acquiescence to Jonathan, refusing to think of Luke Randell. Years of training, of having to bury her private pain, enabled her to succeed in doing exactly that, and her last worrying thoughts were of Sally and the number of nights she was spending with Dave.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SALLY still hadn’t returned the next morning as Lori ate her solitary breakfast before getting herself ready for her visit to Aunt Jessie. Even at eighty years of age Aunt Jessie was a stickler for smartness, and Lori put on one of the suits she wore to work, a rust-coloured one contrasted with a cream blouse, the scarf-collar tied neatly at her throat. Her make-up was light, her hair brushed until it gleamed. Aunt Jessie wouldn’t be able to fault her appearance today—as she often did! Aunt Jessie was her greatest critic, she had also, been her one stability during the last twelve years.

  ‘You’re late,’ the old lady snapped as Lori let herself into the tiny lounge her aunt shared with another woman; two small bedrooms and an even tinier kitchen going off this main room. The boarders of the home lived in pairs in these tiny self-contained flats within the home, although there were several big lounges too where they could all get together, and unless the boarders had visitors and preferred to cook for themselves, they all ate together in the main dining-room on the ground floor.

  ‘Sorry,’ Lori accepted the criticism with a smile, and gave her aunt the plant she had brought with her.

  The flat was like a small greenhouse, and poor Mrs Jarvis, the woman who shared the flat, had to put up with it, whether she wanted to or not. Luckily the other woman liked plants, but even if she hadn’t the autocratic Aunt Jessie wouldn’t have parted with one of her beloved plants. Lori could still remember the shock on the Matron’s face the day Aunt Jessie had moved in two years ago as Lori unpacked the car full of potted plants. Aunt Jessie had consistently refused to give up her greenery ever since, and now the Matron, and all the other staff, had become accustomed to walking through a jungle when they came into this flat.

  The old lady eyed Lori over the top of her pink-framed spectacles, her faded blue eyes still lit with a quick intelligence, her hair snowy white, her lined face still possessing some of her great-niece’s beauty, and her movements still spritely, despite the fact that she suffered quite badly from rheumatism.

  ‘What’s happened to you, girl?’ she asked in her abrupt voice, the short-sharpness of her manner belied by the affectionate twinkle in her light blue eyes.

  Lori returned that affection. No one would ever believe her great-aunt was eighty years old—she looked as if she would go on for ever. And knowing her determination she probably would!

  ‘Well?’ she barked at Lori’s silence.

  ‘Nothing.’ Lori stood up to get a gaily-coloured pot from the cupboard under the sink, putting the plant inside and carrying it to the window. ‘Smells like chicken,’ she teased.

  ‘You looked in the oven,’ her aunt dismissed. ‘No, not there. Really, Lorraine, do you have no sense? That plant needs more warmth than it will get in that draughty window!’

  She moved the plant to one of the shelves i
n the alcove next to the electric fire, not at all perturbed by her aunt’s bluntness, knowing it hid a genuine and constant affection. ‘I didn’t look in the oven. I know the smell of your cooking a chicken—delicious!’

  Only by the slight lessening of her aunt’s scowl could she tell she was pleased by the compliment. ‘I’m still waiting, Lorraine,’ she frowned at her.

  Some of her confidence wavered. Aunt Jessie had always been too astute. She should have known she couldn’t fool her this time either. ‘A friend of mine got married yesterday,’ she revealed guardedly.

  Her aunt nodded. ‘I remember you telling me—You aren’t still mooning about that young Judas, are you?’ she snapped her displeasure at such an idea.

  Lori felt herself blushing. From the moment she had introduced Nigel to her aunt she had known she didn’t like him—and the dislike had been mutual. ‘A rude, cantakerous old woman,’ Nigel had called Aunt Jessie. ‘A pompous young know-it-all,’ Aunt Jessie had called him. When she had told her aunt of her broken engagement, of the reason for it, Aunt Jessie had assured her she had had a lucky escape. Judas, she called him then, and she still continued to do so.

  ‘No, of course—’

  ‘I know what next week is,’ her aunt continued in her brisk no-nonsense voice. ‘But whether or not you can accept it, he was never right for you. If he’d really loved you he would have continued to do so even if you had been the one accused of stealing.’

  Stealing. Her father had never so much as taken a paper-clip from the bank he was manager of! A discrepancy had been found in the accounts during a yearly audit, and as manager her father was chosen as the likeliest candidate to have covered up, and committed, those discrepancies. Despite his strong denials he had been brought to trial. Jacob P. Randell had somehow managed to convince the court that her father was more than just a likely candidate, that he had committed the crime.

  ‘What is it?’ Her aunt was watching her with narrowed eyes, getting awkwardly to her feet with the aid of her walking stick, moving easier once she was actually on her feet, discarding the walking stick altogether.

  Aunt Jessie was old, despite her efforts to look spritely, and she deserved to live the last of her years in peace. The events of twelve years ago were now a faded nightmare to her. If Lori told her about Luke Randell she would only worry.

  ‘You were right the first time,’ she said softly. ‘The wedding yesterday upset me.’

  ‘Forget him,’ the elderly lady dismissed. ‘He isn’t worth losing even one night’s sleep over. How did the wedding go? Did your friend look nice?’

  ‘Very.’ Lori went on to describe the wedding in detail, knowing how her aunt loved to hear about such things. Mrs Jarvis would be told all about it tonight when she came back from spending the day with her married son and his family.

  ‘And who is Jonathan?’ her aunt pounced once Lori had told her he had driven her home.

  She laughed softly. ‘Just a friend, another of the lawyers in the practice.’

  ‘Oh.’ Aunt Jessie looked disappointed. ‘Do you like him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then why isn’t he more than just a friend?’

  It really was wicked of her to tease her aunt in this way. ‘I’m going out with him tomorrow,’ she revealed.

  ‘That’s better.’ Aunt Jessie folded her arms across her chest. She was as tall as Lori, only slightly more rounded, and their family resemblance was obvious. ‘You aren’t getting any younger, you know.’

  ‘Considering you never married at all…’ Lori said pointedly. It was an old teasing game of theirs, and one they both enjoyed.

  ‘Not because I didn’t have offers,’ came her aunt’s predictable answer. ‘I just didn’t want some bossy man running my life for me.’

  ‘Besides, where would he have slept?’ Lori said tongue-in-cheek, knowing there was hardly room for the bed in her aunt’s bedroom, as the room was full of plants too.

  ‘Cheeky madam!’

  ‘Hungry madam,’ she corrected with a laugh. ‘When is lunch going to be ready?’

  The one sure way to get your life back on an even keel was to spend the day with Aunt Jessie, her no-nonsense view of life brought everything back into perspective, even something like that unexpected meeting with Luke Randell. Maybe it had been inevitable—after all, she had chosen to involve herself in the world of law and lawyers, and that was something in which the Randell family were prominent.

  She would accept it for what it was, a chance meeting that should be forgotten by both of them.

  Then why did she have a hunted feeling all day Monday, almost as if expecting Luke Randell to suddenly appear in her office? It was a ridiculous feeling, and yet one she couldn’t dispel, and she felt a sense of relief when it came to five-thirty and she could go home.

  Jonathan came in just as she was putting on her jacket to leave, and held it out for her. ‘It’s still on for tonight, isn’t it?’ he seemed anxious.

  She put up a hand to release her hair from her collar. Her fingernails were painted the same plum-colour of her lip-gloss, her fingers long and tapered, the skin palely translucent, giving an impression of delicacy, and each movement was one of grace and beauty. ‘Did you think it wouldn’t be?’ she teased, her teeth pearly white as she smiled.

  Jonathan’s eyes deepened in colour as he looked at her. ‘I was hoping it would be.’ His voice was husky.

  She swung her handbag over her shoulder, checking she had her car keys, and her hair bounced round her face, red-gold in the bright overhead lighting. ‘I’m looking forward to it,’ she nodded.

  He swallowed hard, making her effect on him a little too obvious. ‘So am I,’ he said eagerly.

  ‘Until later, then,’ Lori said briskly.

  She had fully expected not to enjoy the evening with Jonathan, but she was pleasantly surprised, liking the quiet restaurant he had picked out, enjoying the meal and wine, and the conversation. Jonathan had a wide range of interests she hadn’t even guessed at, from hang-gliding to reading a good murder mystery.

  ‘I never get them right,’ he admitted with a grin.

  ‘What a confession for a lawyer to make!’ she teased, the wine giving her cheeks a healthy glow, her mood having mellowed as the evening progressed.

  ‘Shameful, isn’t it?’ he nodded.

  Lori glanced casually at her wrist-watch. ‘I hate to break up the evening…’ and she really meant it! She had enjoyed herself tonight, the first time in months she had been able to relax like this. ‘But it is after eleven, and it’s a weekday tomorrow.’

  ‘Mm,’ Jonathan nodded, signalling for the bill. ‘And we all have to be on our toes tomorrow.’

  ‘We do?’ she frowned.

  ‘Of course. I—Thanks,’ he said as the waiter left them their bill, glancing at it to place a number of notes on the table. ‘Let’s go,’ he suggested huskily.

  Lori was perfectly willing to do that, accepting his help with her jacket before following him outside to the waiting car.

  ‘Why do we have to be on our toes tomorrow?’ she asked with a frown once they were on their way back to her flat.

  ‘Wonder boy has asked to look around the practice.’ Jonathan shrugged. ‘I suppose after living in America all this time he needs to see how the English do it.’

  Lori licked her lips nervously, suddenly knowing exactly who ‘Wonder boy’ was. ‘Luke Randell is coming to the office tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, he—hey, didn’t you know?’ Jonathan frowned at her involuntary gasp.

  ‘No.’ She swallowed hard, the evening suddenly losing all its enjoyment.

  ‘Mr Hammond mentioned it to me this afternoon. I thought you would know, being his secretary and everything.’

  ‘No.’ Her voice was ragged.

  ‘I suppose Mr Hammond must have forgotten to mention it to you.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she answered Jonathan woodenly, although she didn’t really think that was what had happened at all. Luke Randell was
more than capable of asking Claude not to tell her of his visit tomorrow, would enjoy forcing her into a position where she had to be polite to him.

  ‘Did he say when Mr Randell would be arriving?’ she asked as casually as she could.

  ‘About ten-thirty,’ Jonathan shrugged. ‘It’s to be an informal visit as far as I could tell.’

  ‘Yes.’ She sounded preoccupied, relieved that she had received prior warning of Luke Randell’s visit, grateful to Jonathan for that, even though he couldn’t possibly realise how much.

  The light was on in the flat when Jonathan walked her upstairs, and she knew Sally was already home.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Jonathan read her plea for understanding. ‘It’s late anyway. I—Could we do this again some time?’

  Lori smiled at his uncertainty, the shadowed hallway throwing into prominence the perfection of her high cheekbones, her eyes warm like honey. ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘But not for a few days, hmm? I—I don’t usually go out during the week,’ she invented, not wanting to get too involved with him. She liked Jonathan, but… There was always a but.

  ‘I’ll speak to you about it again on Friday,’ he accepted eagerly.

  ‘Fine,’ she nodded.

  ‘I—Well, I—I’d better be going.’ He looked uncomfortable, his gaze seemingly locked on her mouth.

  Lori took the initiative and raised her lips to his, wondering how he could appear so confident in court and yet lack the courage to kiss her goodnight.

  He didn’t lack courage at all, he merely needed a little encouragement, and he swept her into his arms to kiss her with a thoroughness that left her breathless.

  Lori felt a little dazed as she let herself into the flat, the feeling fading as she saw the telltale cigarette stubs in the ashtray. Dave Greene had been here tonight. Pray God he hadn’t decided to share Sally’s bed!

  But she needn’t have worried; her friend and flatmate was alone in her single bed, a smile on her lips. That smile worried Lori, it meant Sally still hadn’t discovered what sort of man Dave was. Because when she did she would be far from smiling!