seems so,’ Barbara Kenny said unhappily. ‘I doubt if James will have much left apart from his company pension.’
Cressy nodded, her face set. ‘I’ve brought my laptop down with me. Tomorrow I’ll start looking—finding out how bad things really are.’
There was a tap on the door and Mrs Berryman came in with a tray. The scent of the coffee, and the sight of the pile of ham sandwiches, the plate of home-made shortbread and the rich Dundee cake accompanying them, reminded Cressy how long it was since she’d eaten.
She said warmly, ‘Berry—that looks wonderful.’
‘You look as if you need it.’ The housekeeper’s glance was searching as well as affectionate. ‘You’ve lost weight.’
‘Berry’s right,’ her aunt commented when they were alone again. ‘You are thinner.’
Cressy was pouring coffee. ‘I expect it’s an illusion created by my Greek suntan. Although I did do a lot of walking while I was out there.’ And swimming. And dancing…
‘My dear, I’m so sorry that your holiday had to be interrupted like this,’ Sir Robert said heavily. ‘But I felt you had to be told—even before James collapsed.’
Cressy forced a smile. ‘It was time I came back anyway.’ Her mouth tightened. ‘You can have—too much of a good thing.’ She handed round the coffee and offered the plate of sandwiches. ‘I’d have been here sooner, but of course it’s the height of the holiday season and I couldn’t get a flight straight away. I had to spend a whole day in Athens.’
It had been a nervy, edgy day—a day she’d spent looking behind her constantly to see if she was being followed. She’d joined a guided tour of the Acropolis, mingled with the crowds in the Plaka, done everything she could to lose herself in sheer numbers. And all the time she had been waiting—waiting for a hand on her shoulder—a voice speaking her name…
‘Cressy, I worry about you,’ Lady Kenny said forth-rightly. ‘You don’t have enough fun. You shouldn’t have your nose stuck to a computer screen all the time, solving other people’s tax problems. You should find yourself a young man. Start living.’
‘I like my job,’ Cressy said mildly. ‘And if by “living” you mean I should be swept away by some grand passion, I think we’ve seen enough of that in this family.’ Her face hardened. ‘Watching my father make a fool of himself over someone as worthless as Eloise taught me a valuable lesson. I’ve seen at first hand the damage that sex can do.’
‘He was lonely for a long time,’ her aunt said quietly. ‘Your mother’s death hit him hard. And Eloise was very clever—very manipulative. Don’t be too hard on him, darling.’
‘No,’ Cressy said with sudden bitterness. ‘I’ve no right to judge anybody. It’s all too easy to succumb to that particular madness.’ As I know now.
For a moment she saw a cobalt sea and a strip of dazzling white sand, fringed with rocks as bleached as bones. And she saw dark eyes with laughter in their depths that glittered at her from a face of sculpted bronze. Laughter, she thought, that could, in an instant, change to hunger…
Suddenly breathless, she drove that particular image back into the recesses of her memory and slammed the door on it.
She would not think of him, she told herself savagely. She could not…
She saw her aunt and uncle looking faintly surprised, and went on hurriedly, ‘But I shouldn’t have let my dislike of Eloise keep me away. Maybe if I’d been around I could have done something. Persuaded Dad, somehow, that Paradise Grove was a scam. And he might not be in Intensive Care now,’ she added, biting her lip hard as tears stung her eyes.
Sir Robert patted her shoulder. ‘Cressy, you’re the last person who could possibly be blamed for all this. And the doctor told me that James’s heart attack could have happened at any time. He had warning signs over a year ago. But he wanted to pretend he was still young and strong.’
‘For Eloise,’ Cressy said bitterly. ‘Oh, why did he have to meet her?’
Lady Kenny said gently, ‘Sometimes fate works in strange ways, Cressy.’ She paused. ‘I’ve prepared a room at our house if you’d like to come back and stay. You shouldn’t be on your own at a time like this.’
‘It’s sweet of you,’ Cressy said gratefully. ‘But I must remain here. I told the hospital it was where I’d be. And I shan’t be alone with Berry to look after me.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Sir Robert sighed. ‘I’m afraid Berry may be another casualty of this debacle.’
‘Oh, surely not,’ Cressy said in swift distress. ‘She’s always been part of this family.’ One change that Eloise had not been allowed to make, she added silently.
Sir Robert finished his coffee and put down his cup.
‘My dear.’ His tone was sober. ‘I think you must accept that nothing is ever going to be the same again.’
He was right, Cressy thought as she stood on the steps an hour later, waving her aunt and uncle an approximation of a cheerful goodbye.
Everything had changed quite momentously. Beginning with herself.
She shook herself mentally as she went back into the house.
She had to forget about those days of golden, sunlit madness on Myros, and how near she too had come to making a disastrous mistake.
That urgent summons back to England, although devastating, had been in another way a lifeline, dragging her back to reality. Waking her from the dangerous seductive dream which had enthralled her and could have led her to total ruin.
A holiday romance—that was all it had been. As trivial and tawdry as these things always were, with a handsome Greek on one side and a bored tourist on the other. Just for a while she’d allowed herself to indulge a risky fantasy, and then real life had intervened, just in time, returning her to sanity.
For a moment she found herself wondering what would have happened if her uncle’s message had not been waiting at the hotel. If she’d actually called Draco’s bluff and gone back to Myros…
She stopped herself right there. Speculation of that kind was forbidden territory now. Myros, and all that had happened there, was in the past, where it belonged. A memory that one day, in years to come, she might take out, dust down and smile over.
The memory of desire and being desired…
But not now. And maybe not ever, she thought, straightening her shoulders.
Now she had to look to the immediate future, and its problems. She’d have an early night, and tomorrow she would start to sift through the wreckage, see if anything could be salvaged.
And tonight, she told herself with determination, she would sleep without dreaming.
But that was more easily said than done. Cressida’s night was restless. She woke several times, her body damp with perspiration, haunted by images that left no trace in her memory. Nothing that she could rationalise, and then dismiss.
Perhaps it was simply coming
