Grey into a fragile cup and held it out to Dana. ‘I certainly hadn’t forgotten that. Or that your scholastic career came to a sudden end. A poor reward for all Serafina’s kindness to you.’
‘Perhaps we both felt she’d been quite kind enough,’ Dana returned coolly. ‘And that it was time I stood on my own feet.’ Besides, it was recognition as her granddaughter I wanted—not her charity.
‘I don’t think anyone would argue over that,’ Miss Latimer said with a sniff, proffering a plate of sandwiches smaller than a child’s finger.
That, and a Madeira cake, comprised the entire spread, Dana realised, remembering coming back for the school holidays to find the table laden not just with sandwiches but scones and cream, or buttered crumpets, depending on the season, to be followed with a rich chocolate cake and a Victoria sponge oozing strawberry jam. And Serafina presiding over these delights, gently questioning Nicola and herself on how the term had gone.
‘And your family. Are they well?’
Memories scattered under Mimi Latimer’s acidly pointed question.
‘All fine, thank you.’ At least on the rare occasions when I have news.
But the older woman had not finished. ‘And your mother? Still living in Spain?’
‘Yes,’ Dana confirmed evenly. ‘She is.’
‘And you seem to be doing well too. Trying to sell Nicola and Eddie an expensive flat, I gather.’
‘I’ve shown them a very beautiful flat,’ Dana corrected, helping herself to an egg and cress sandwich and making it stretch to two bites. ‘Well within the price guidelines she and her fiancé had established, and which they both seemed to like.’
‘How strange it should be you showing them round.’
‘I prefer to call it serendipity,’ Dana said lightly. ‘A happy discovery by accident.’ Apart from the wheeling, dealing and sheer manipulation it took to ensure I conducted that particular viewing.
She took a reluctant sip of cooling tea. ‘Where is Nicola, by the way?’
‘Taking Eddie and his parents to see the village church.’ Miss Latimer’s mouth tightened sourly. ‘She’s decided she wants to be married there. Quite ridiculous when London would be so much more convenient for everyone.
‘But she’s managed to persuade Eddie that they should have a quiet country wedding with just family, close friends and local people. As this weekend’s gathering was supposed to be,’ she added pointedly.
‘Heaven only knows what the Marchwoods will think,’ she went on peevishly. ‘I’ve tried to talk some sense into the child, but, for some reason, that cousin of Serafina’s, the Belisandro man, has taken her side.’ She sniffed again. ‘Of course, he’s always spoiled Nicola, encouraging her to have her own way. I’m only surprised he isn’t marrying her himself.’
Dana felt her heartbeat stumble and her throat tighten. She forced down another mouthful of Earl Grey.
When she spoke, her voice was remarkably steady. ‘Zac Belisandro hardly seems the marrying kind.’
Besides being safely on the other side of the world. Although it seemed that had not stopped him again pulling strings in the Latimer affairs.
‘Well, I dare say his father will have something to say about that before he’s much older,’ Miss Latimer opined snappishly. ‘Not that it’s any concern of mine,’ she added hastily. ‘Or yours for that matter.’
Dana managed a serene smile. ‘You’re quite right. Gossip can be so damaging.’
The silence that followed seemed to be waiting for her to ask, ‘And where is Adam?’
But all hell would freeze over before she said any such thing. Especially to Mimi Latimer.
Anyway, I shall see him soon enough, she thought, allowing her mind to dwell pleasurably on his windblown blond hair and almost boyish good looks, enhanced by the laughter lines at the corners of his blue eyes and the mouth that seemed always ready to smile.
A man that any woman would want, even without the riches he was bringing with him, and she knew it. Had reminded herself over and over again that it justified the course of action she was set upon.
Even so, she was suddenly struggling to hold on to that inner picture. To prevent it being superseded by another image, as disturbing as it was unwelcome. By another face, olive-skinned and saturnine, the features strongly marked, the eyes as dark and impenetrable as a starless winter night.
She put her cup with what remained of the tea carefully back on the table. ‘This has been most enjoyable, but, if you’ll excuse me, I need to stretch my legs after the drive.’
And, with another smile, she walked across the room and out through the French windows on to the terrace. Where she paused, staring at the lawns below as if in rapt admiration of its billiard table smoothness.
In reality, and in spite of herself, she was listening to her brain frantically re-echoing the name—Zac Belisandro.
His father’s only son and heir to the vast Belisandro International empire. Currently running its holdings in Australia and the Far East with an aplomb and success that was becoming legendary.
‘The man who makes Midas look like a beginner’ had been a headline in the business pages of a popular daily.
And to Dana—the man who’d caused her to be sent away from Mannion seven years ago. Her enemy, who would still want her barred now, if he wasn’t thousands of miles away.
Don’t think of him, she told herself fiercely. Concentrate on Adam. He’s the only one who matters and always has been.
But her mind—her memory—would not obey her. Because Zac Belisandro was still there like a shadow in the sunlight.
In spite of the heat, Dana shivered. Just let him stay away, she whispered silently. Don’t make me have to see him again. Ever. Or at least until I’ve got what I want and it’s too late for him to interfere and ruin everything a second time.
Until I’m Mrs Adam Latimer and Mannion belongs to me as it always should have done.
Captain Jack Latimer, she thought. Serafina’s soldier son and my father. If he hadn’t been killed in that ambush in Northern Ireland, my mother’s life—and mine—would have been very different. They would have been married, and whatever Serafina thought, she would have had to accept it.
He wouldn’t have allowed the girl he loved to be sent away in disgrace.
She walked down the terrace steps and headed across the lawn to the shrubbery. Ever since she’d first come to live at Mannion, it had been her favourite bolthole, a place to hide in when she was missing her mother and wanted to cry in peace. Aunt Joss was kind enough but too busy and often too harassed to devote much time to her. And taking charge of her young niece was something Dana knew had been thrust upon her, because her sense of duty would not allow the little girl to be fostered during her mother’s frequent and often lengthy absences in hospital.
So, a lot of the time, she was lonely.
