for an artist. I wish she would, though, and so does Daddy.’
‘I agree. Dusty’s the perfect person to paint your mother. He could do a wonderful medieval portrait of her.’
Linnet had then asked her a lot of questions about Dusty as they had continued their walk through the store; she had answered some but had remained silent about others. She had discovered she didn’t want to reveal too much about him or their relationship, at least not just yet. The real problem with Dusty was his attitude to her family. Without ever meeting any of them he had made a sudden snap decision and categorized them as aristos. ‘Too posh. Snobs. Hoity-toity, idle rich folks,’ was the way he described them. None of this was true, and she had tried to explain this, explain about her great-grandmother’s impoverished beginnings, but he had swept her words away and changed the subject in his usual imperious manner.
At first she had thought he suffered from an inferiority complex about his own bleak and desolate background, growing up as a poor boy in the back streets of Leeds. Certainly he was always making reference to this. But she had quickly come to accept that he didn’t have an inferiority complex at all – far from it, in fact. He was one of the most self-confident and self-possessed people she had ever met, in command of everything, exuding charm and displaying the most perfect manners when he wanted to.
Yet, nevertheless, Dusty believed her father would look down on him, wouldn’t approve of him, would condemn their relationship out of hand. And so far she hadn’t been able to convince him otherwise. But she would keep trying. And she knew her father and mother would like him, quite aside from the fact that they both admired his paintings, without even knowing she was involved with Dusty.
I have to give him time, she told herself, and slowed down as she came to the village. Within minutes she was leaving the small main street behind and heading for the road which would take her directly to the front gates of Pennistone Royal.
Her mind focused on Tessa and the situation she was likely to come across when she arrived. She had purposely not thought about it on the drive over from Dusty’s house, but now she had to concentrate on the matter at hand. She had no idea what she would have to face. She prayed she would find Adele with her mother and not still lost. Or abducted. Prayed that tragedy did not lurk in the shadows.
Jonathan Ainsley crept into her mind, and she grimaced. From what she had learned lately, it appeared that Mark Longden was under his influence. How terrible that such a thing had happened. Could Jonathan be pulling the strings, was he the mastermind behind Adele’s abduction? If that was what it was. She had no answers for herself.
Linnet sat with Tessa in the upstairs parlour at Pennistone Royal, talking to her quietly, trying to reassure her that Adele was all right, that she would soon be home, silently praying that she was correct in this assertion, and that her assurances would not prove to be meaningless.
Evan was with them, seated near the lovely oriel window, but she was an observer rather than a participant at this moment, knowing it was best to let Linnet handle everything. Tessa could be touchy, even a little caustic, at the best of times, and today was the worst.
‘Mark would never do anything to upset or hurt Adele,’ Linnet said, touching her sister’s hand, then taking it in hers. ‘He does adore her, you know, that’s always been most apparent.’
‘Yes,’ Tessa responded, ‘but what if it’s not Mark who has her? Perhaps Desmond was right when he suggested it might well be a kidnapping for ransom. She could easily be with strangers, and therefore in danger.’
‘I really do doubt that,’ Linnet answered in a stronger tone, wishing her younger brother had not voiced this opinion. It was a possibility but he would have been wiser to have kept it to himself. ‘And you must trust Jack Figg. He’s the best and the smartest private investigator there is, Mummy’s said that for years and she’s always relied on him in a crisis. And don’t forget, he was head of Harte’s security for years.’
‘But he’s been retired for some time now,’ Tessa pointed out, a sudden shrillness in her voice.
‘Semi-retired, to be exact. He still works full time for those who need him, such as former clients he’s remained close to, like us. Anyway, you know very well our mother put him on a retainer and used him to do that in-depth check on Mark Longden several weeks ago. She filled us in before she went off to New York.’
‘Yes –’ Tessa’s voice suddenly broke and tears welled in her eyes again. She wiped them quickly with a tissue and continued shakily, ‘I’m so worried about Adele I can hardly bear it. She’s such a little girl and she must be so scared, even if she is with her father. I mean, being snatched off the terrace in such an awful way will have frightened her. I feel so helpless, I don’t know what to do.’
‘Listen to me,’ Linnet said in her firmest, most confident voice, ‘we don’t know how she was taken, whether it was awful or not. Actually, I’m sure it wasn’t.’ Hoping to calm Tessa, she went on talking. ‘I’m sure Mark made it seem like a game to Adele, you know, waving to her, putting his finger to his lips so she would be quiet, smiling at her, beckoning. Yes, I’m quite certain that’s what he did. It’s obvious he wouldn’t want to alarm her, frighten her. He knew he mustn’t upset her since he was taking her without your permission. She would’ve made quite a racket, I think, if he’d just rushed in and grabbed her.’
‘You seem so certain it is Mark. Like me.’ Tessa gave Linnet a hard stare and her eyes narrowed slightly. ‘I just hope to God we’re right. What is Jack Figg actually doing right now?’
‘He’s working in the library, on the phone a lot, talking to people, mostly his operatives, I believe. I never question his methods and neither should you. Let it suffice for me to say that he has contacts everywhere in the world and in all walks of life. If anybody can find Adele, it’s Jack, believe me it is.’
Glancing across at Evan, Tessa said slowly, ‘You had lunch with Uncle Robin at Lackland Priory today. Did he mention Jonathan Ainsley? Where he was living these days?’
Evan tensed. Tessa had sounded almost accusatory, but she kept her voice level as she answered calmly, ‘No, he didn’t mention Jonathan. I’m sorry, Tessa, I don’t know anything about him. But he’s more than likely out of the country. In Hong Kong. Robin would have told me if Jonathan were in England … you see he would have warned me. I know Robin worries a lot about Jonathan doing me harm out of spite.’
‘And all of us, too, for that matter!’ Linnet exclaimed, her green eyes flashing. ‘He’s had it in for Mummy and her offspring for ages. In fact, I think he has it in for every one of the Hartes. He’d like to mow us all down with a machine gun and be rid of us once and for all. And all because he feels cheated by Emma Harte. He’s a nasty piece of work, but Mums says he always was.’
‘That’s true,’ Tessa agreed. ‘And to think Mark let himself fall into his clutches.’ Tessa sat back on the sofa, twisting the tissue in her hands, her face ringed with misery. At this precise moment she fervently wished she had never married Mark Longden. All he had ever done really was to create a ton of misery for her, not to mention the verbal and physical abuse he had meted out lately. Now he had stolen their child.
Suddenly the door flew open and India came into the upstairs parlour almost at a run. ‘Hi, everybody,’ she said and then made a bee-line for her cousin Tessa; she knelt down next to her and took hold of her hand. ‘I’m so sorry this happened,’
