Mistress At A Price. Sara Craven
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Cat wondered cynically if the other girl would be around that long, but she kept her doubts to herself.
She said merely, ‘Thanks, Dad, but I’ve brought my own car. Another time, perhaps.’
He winced. ‘Call me David, please, my darling.’ He made an expansive gesture. ‘Dad is so—so …’
‘Ageing?’ Cat suggested. ‘I’ll try and remember. Especially in front of Sharine,’ she added drily.
She set off again, skirting chattering groups, calling greetings with a smile, but finding herself, inevitably, detained by others. Having to talk and be civil in spite of the pounding urgency to be gone that was building inside her.
And when she finally reached the door her mother was waiting for her impatiently. ‘What was your father saying to you?’ she demanded. ‘Was he talking about me? And is he really planning to marry that—bimbette?’
‘I suggest you ask him yourself,’ Cat said coolly. ‘As I told him, I’ve decided to abandon my role as go-between once and for all.’
Vanessa’s brows rose incredulously. ‘Heavens, sweetie, you sound almost militant. What’s prompted this? Too much champagne?’
‘I drank half a glass for the toasts,’ Cat returned.
‘Hmm.’ Vanessa pursed her lips. ‘Then perhaps you need more.’
‘Maybe I need my parents to start behaving like adults.’ Cat glanced round her. ‘Where’s Gil?’
‘Oh, he’s met someone else who’s a photographer. They’re discussing cameras somewhere,’ Vanessa said vaguely. She brightened. ‘I’m going to be in London for at least a week. Why don’t we all have dinner together? It’s time you got to know him. We’re staying at the Savoy.’
Cat hesitated. ‘That would be—good. But I’m pretty tied up at work just now.’
‘Well, I’m sure you can make some time for me—if you try.’ Vanessa sent her a glittering smile. ‘And I might have some work for you myself. A friend of mine wants to revamp her entire Knightsbridge house, and I told her how brilliant you were. She’s dying to hear from you.’
‘Mother,’ Cat said patiently, ‘I’ve told you—I don’t do houses. We’re commercial designers. Find a friend with an office block and I’ll be happy to help.’
Vanessa pouted. ‘It’s not very glamorous. And I have so many contacts—I know I could get you all kinds of commissions. You could earn a fortune.’
‘I’m doing fine, thanks. And you and Dad cornered the glamour market a long time ago.’ Cat gave her mother’s scented cheek a quick kiss. ‘You look terrific, by the way.’ She forced a smile. ‘Gil must be doing something right.’
‘Oh, he’s an angel,’ Vanessa said, almost absently. ‘But what about you, sweetie? Clearly you’re here on your own. Isn’t there someone you could have brought?’
Cat shrugged. ‘I didn’t look. Besides, I prefer to keep my weekends free.’
‘It does seem such a waste. And half my friends are grandmothers.’ There was an oddly wistful note in her mother’s voice.
Cat’s brows lifted. ‘In one of your recent interviews,’ she pointed out mildly, ‘you implied that I was still at school, and certainly below the age of consent. You can’t have it both ways.’
‘No.’ Vanessa paused, her smile almost wry. ‘I’m beginning to realise that.’
There was a sudden stir in the hotel foyer, and the guests began to surge towards the door of the Banqueting Suite. Cat found herself carried along with them.
Belinda was coming down the stairs, pretty in a pale blue dress and jacket, followed by a plainly sheepish Freddie. She paused theatrically, holding up her bouquet amid laughter and cheering, then tossed it high into the air. Cat realised it was coming straight for her and took a hasty side-step, clasping both hands behind her back for good measure.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a hand reach up and grab it by the streamers of its white silk bow. There was a moment of stunned silence, then the cheers began again with a sudden roar.
Looking round, Cat saw with real shock that it was Vanessa who was standing, smiling as she held the flowers clasped in front of her. Saw her mother turn to Gil, who’d materialised at her side, reaching up to pull him down triumphantly to her kiss.
And saw, too, her father, standing a few yards away, as if he’d been turned to stone. His face was like a mask, but it was the expression in his eyes that stunned her. There was a blaze of anger there, but there was pain too, stark and ocean-deep.
Cat took one horrified step towards him, then paused as Sharine got there first, sliding her arm through his as she pressed her body seductively against him. She murmured something that made him look down at her, his mouth relaxing into a smile.
Perhaps it had just been a trick of the light, Cat thought, turning abruptly away. But the moment was over, whatever it had meant.
She went back into the suite, deserted now but for one solitary figure sitting at a table, her fingers pulling at the spray of roses she was wearing, systematically destroying it petal by petal.
Cat said uncertainly, ‘Aunt Susan—they’re just leaving—Belinda and Freddie. Don’t you want to say goodbye?’
Her aunt shook her head. She said quietly, ‘I seem to have been saying that for a long time now.’ She paused. ‘Some things end—others begin. That’s the way it works—isn’t it?’
Cat knelt beside her impulsively. ‘Would you like me to come back with you tonight? Stay for a day or two?’
Susan Adamson stroked her cheek almost absently. ‘No, my dear, but thank you for offering. I have a lot of thinking to do, and I need to be alone for that.’ She paused, forcing a smile. ‘I may even go away myself for a while. I need a rest after all this—chaos.’ She gestured around her at the littered tables, but Cat knew she wasn’t merely referring to the wedding.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ she promised quietly.
With the departure of the bridal couple a sense of anti-climax had set in, and people were already beginning to drift away. As Cat went towards the stairs she glimpsed her uncle in a shadowy corner of the foyer, talking with soft urgency on his mobile phone.
No prizes for guessing who he was calling, she thought, remembering bitterly her aunt’s quiet, contained expression.
Even now people were stopping her. ‘So good to see you again, Catherine.’
‘Thank you.’ She couldn’t even try any more to match names to faces.
‘What a marvellous day it’s been. Gone without a hitch.’
‘Yes,