Paula nodded. ‘Is this a flash in the pan on your part, Tessa dear?’
‘No, and it’s not on his either. Jean-Claude wants a serious, long-term relationship?’
‘Are we talking marriage here?’
‘Well, he hasn’t used that word, but yes, I think that’s what he means when he says long-term relationship.’ Noting the worried look settling on her mother’s face, she asked quickly, ‘Don’t you approve of him?’
Paula was silent for a moment, and then she murmured, ‘There’s something of an age difference, isn’t there, darling?’
‘Yes. But it doesn’t matter to me, nor does it matter to him.’
‘How old is he?’
‘He’s fifty-three.’
‘Really. He certainly doesn’t look it, and I’m sure he’s serious in his intentions, he’s that kind of responsible, caring man, from what I’ve observed.’
‘So it’s all right then?’
Paula fixed her eyes on Tessa. ‘Would it matter if I said it wasn’t, that I objected to him?’
‘Yes, it would, because I want you to approve. But it wouldn’t make me change my mind…how can I change what I feel for him?’
‘You can’t, not if you really love him. And you are thirty-two, a mature adult, and therefore you can do anything you wish with your life. But it just so happens that I don’t disapprove of Jean-Claude, no not at all. Quite the contrary, in fact. I always thought he was a charming man, and your father likes him, too.’
Tessa sat back, relaxing her taut muscles. ‘That’s a big relief, Mummy. After the horrible problems we’ve all had with Mark, it’s important to me that you like the man I’m involved with now.’
‘I do. And I just want to say this. I think you must be careful at the moment, while we are trying to settle the details of the divorce.’
‘Do you mean I shouldn’t see Jean-Claude?’ Tessa asked, appalled at the thought.
‘No, that’ll be all right, providing you are discreet, don’t flaunt yourselves.’
‘We wouldn’t do that, in fact we didn’t in Paris. We ate at his apartment, and at the weekend Lorne and I went with Jean-Claude to his country house. We’ll be circumspect.’
‘There’s another thing, Tessa.’
‘Yes, Mummy?’
‘You’re looking exceptionally pretty and happy at the moment. But on Monday I’d prefer you to look sad, miserable, and a little bit plain, if you can manage that. For the meeting with the lawyers and Mark, I mean.’
‘I’ll make myself look drab, use hardly any make-up, that should do the trick.’
‘It will. You must play the victim, which indeed you are. And that’s the last thing you look at this moment.’
Tessa left the upstairs parlour, intent on playing with Adele before lunch, and Paula returned to the old Georgian desk near the window. She picked up her pen, thinking she would do some more work, but it instantly struck her that she was no longer in the mood. No, not this morning, she decided, I’ve become too distracted.
Putting the pen down, she sat back in the chair and gazed out of the window. Already the heather was blooming on the moors, and by the middle of September the rolling hills would be an undulating sea of purple as far as the eye could see. How beautiful it was out there today…the sky a soft light blue with puffy white clouds skimming towards the horizon. Paula loved the moors best at this time of year when the bees hovered in the sunlight where the heather bloomed; her daughter Linnet was addicted to them all year round, just as Emma had been.
Paula’s thoughts shifted, and she suddenly realized how truly happy she was to be back here at Pennistone Royal, the house she had grown up in and which she loved so much; she was glad to be sitting here at this window, at the desk where Grandy had worked for so many years, savouring the memories, thinking of her enduring love for Emma. But a moment later her thoughts veered away, went directly to her first-born child.
Smiling to herself, Paula understood how brainwashed she was; they all were because for years Tessa had drilled something into them: She had been born five minutes before Lorne. And so, Tessa pointed out to anyone who would listen, she was the eldest of Paula’s children.
Tessa McGill Harte Fairley Longden. A rather special young woman.
Forget about the Longden, Paula reminded herself. Her daughter had already dropped his name, had gone back to her maiden name, one she had always been inordinately proud of.
How tragic it was that Tessa had been physically and mentally abused for years, and none of them had ever known because she was too ashamed and afraid to confide in them. Until the day had come when she couldn’t take it any longer, and fearing for her very life she had fled the marital home. She had been a victim for such a long time, but eventually she had found the strength, courage, pride, determination and will to survive–all of which Tessa had inherited through her from Grandy. And so Tessa had saved herself and her child from a deadly fate.
And now a man called Jean-Claude Deléon had arrived on the scene. If he stayed, nothing would ever be the same again. And everyone’s life would be changed, of that Paula was absolutely convinced. He was the catalyst to end all catalysts. In a sense, the family’s future was in his hands. But this did not alarm Paula.
She sat pondering him…a man of such stature, intellect, ethics and vision. Most of France was at his feet. She knew full well of his prominence, his celebrity, not only through the media but from Lorne as well, who idolized him, and with good reason.
Jean-Claude had impressed her on numerous occasions when she had been in his company; she liked his humility, his lack of pomposity. He had a wonderful sense of humour, and he had frequently made her laugh uproariously; she had also been impressed by his wisdom and his kindness, and she knew very well the potency of his considerable charm.
He was twenty-one years older than her daughter, just three years younger than she was, but it struck Paula now that his age was an advantage. He was mature, serious-minded, responsible and trustworthy. Should their liaison last Tessa would be in safe hands for the rest of her life, and for that Paula was thankful.
Yes, the advent of Jean-Claude was a serious matter for the family, and for her especially to consider. She had already seen the effect he had had on Tessa, the startling change in her demeanour; suddenly she was a much nicer person, or so it seemed to her. And if Tessa were with him on a permanent basis there might well be other changes in Tessa’s personality and in her life.
Would her eldest child push her overweening ambition to one side? Could she give up her dream of running the Harte Stores to be the full-time wife of the writer-philosopher? Or would she remain determined to be the heir-apparent? The Dauphine, as she called herself?
Funny that she would choose a French name to describe herself, Paula now thought, gazing absently out of the window, but seeing nothing except Tessa’s face…how softly beautiful she was today. If that was the effect this man had on her daughter then he would be welcomed joyfully with open arms by her.
If Tessa gave up her dreams of glory, of being the great merchant princess, then the way would be open for Linnet. She could run Harte’s without fear of interference, couldn’t she? Would Emsie want to join her sister one day? And where did India fit in, if Tessa was gone? And what about Evan? Paula was fully aware of Evan’s enormous ambition, her desire to play a major role at Harte’s. And if Evan married Gideon, would he object to a working wife?
No, not Gideon, Paula had a ready answer for that particular question. Gideon was a true Harte, since both of his parents were Hartes, and he had grown up understanding the female work ethic. His mother Emily ran Harte Enterprises and had since before he was born. Working women were the norm not the exception for him.
We’re all women at Harte’s…and it’s the women Jean-Claude will affect the most, if he marries Tessa. Because so many things turn around her, Paula thought, her eyes narrowing. I have to meet him again, and soon. I need to see him through different eyes, a mother’s eyes
. And also through the eyes of the head of a major corporation…because he could so easily change the balance of power…
The door flew open, interrupting Paula’s thoughts. Her granddaughter ran towards her, shouting, ‘Gran, Gran, come and play with me.’
Paula rose, moved forward, caught the child in her arms, hugged her closely. Over her shining silver-gilt hair she looked at Tessa, who stood near the door. ‘Is he all right with this one, do you think?’ she asked. ‘Does she present any problems?’
‘None whatsoever,’ Tessa answered with the utmost confidence. ‘We discussed the whole subject at length. He’s very happy about her. Very happy indeed.’
Paula nodded. Tessa might have her chance of happiness after all, provided that Paula could put Mark Longden in his place.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The conference room of the law firm of Crawford, Creighton, Phipps, Crawford and Jolliet had not changed over the years.
Paula had been coming here for most of her adult life, whenever it had been necessary to seek legal advice from John Crawford, senior partner of the firm and the family solicitor. And now on this Monday afternoon there was something reassuring about the familiar room with its dark wood panelled walls, long mahogany conference table surrounded by twenty-four chairs and the handsome bronze chandeliers which hung from the ceiling.
One of the secretaries had shown Paula into the conference room a moment ago, and she walked across to the window, looked down into the street, knowing Tessa was due to arrive at any moment. But there was no sign of her yet.
Moving away from the window, she strolled over to the large painting of John, stood gazing at it, thinking what a handsome and distinguished-looking man he was, a man whom she had relied on for so much diverse advice over the years. He was semi-retired these days, but readily available when his wisdom was required, or when some detail of the vast Harte family affairs was needed. He had a prodigious memory and a unique knowledge of the Hartes and their business empire stretching back to Emma’s days.
In many ways John was like a member of the family, and he still had a meeting once a month with her mother, since he was a trustee of the Emma Harte Foundation, which Daisy ran. This rich organization regularly doled out large amounts of money to a variety of deserving charities carefully chosen by Daisy and John.
‘Good afternoon, Paula,’ Christopher Jolliet, John’s nephew, exclaimed, hurrying into the room. ‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting, I was just finishing a phone call with Uncle John when you arrived. He sends his love, by the way.’
Paula smiled, nodded, and clasped Christopher’s hand as he kissed her cheek. ‘Hello, Christopher.’ Indicating the wall she added, ‘I was just admiring his portrait. And you didn’t keep me waiting, I was early.’
Glancing at her quickly, he took in the smart black suit and white silk blouse, the elegance of her overall appearance. But there was a severity about her, a grimness in her, and he knew better than anyone that she meant business. She was about to demolish a man today and he really couldn’t blame her. Mark Longden had asked for what he was about to get. ‘It’s nice to see you, but I must admit I’m sorry it’s on such a miserable occasion,’ Christopher went on as he led her over to the conference table. ‘You’re looking well, Paula, New York must have agreed with you.’
‘It did. We were all rather busy, but I do love that city, and it was such a nice change.’
‘When does Shane get back?’
‘He’s leaving Tuesday–tomorrow. He has a meeting in the morning at the World Trade Center, and then he’ll be taking the night flight to London, arriving on Wednesday morning. He had to stay on in New York because he had business to deal with, and then this meeting came up all of a sudden. It’s about building a new O’Neill hotel in Manhattan, and it was important enough for him to attend the meeting himself. Usually his sister deals with most of the American business, as you know, but Merry’s on vacation with her family somewhere in the Canadian Rockies at the moment.’
‘Shane’s really made such a wonderful success of the hotel chain, it’s understandable why Grandfather Bryan is so proud of him.’
Paula laughed. ‘His father adores him, as you know, and adores all of us for that matter. He’s a terrific old man.’
‘It would be nice if we could have dinner when Shane gets back,’ Christopher said, pulling out a chair for Paula, then sitting down next to her. He put the sheaf of manila folders he was holding down on the table, leaned back in the chair and asked her, ‘Is there anything else we need to discuss before the others arrive?’
Paula shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. You clarified various points over the weekend, when we spoke on the phone. I’m fine with it. In fact, I’ve gone over everything so many times in my head, I know it off by heart.’
‘I’m sure you do.’ Christopher rose when the door opened and one of the secretaries brought Tessa into the conference room.
‘Hello, Christopher,’ she said, and went to take his hand, shook it.
‘Good afternoon, Tessa,’ he answered, smiling at her, kissing her cheek.
‘Hello, Mummy,’ Tessa murmured and went to embrace her before sitting down. ‘I hope I’m not late.’
‘No, you’re on time. As you can see, we’re waiting for the other side,’ Paula replied, staring hard at her daughter.
‘I look awful, don’t I?’ Tessa asserted and then began to giggle. ‘You told me to make myself look plain and drab, and I did.’
Christopher burst out laughing. ‘I’m afraid your beauty does come shining through, Tessa my dear, despite your obvious efforts to the contrary. And I have a feeling it always will, whatever lengths you go to in order to obscure it.’
‘I’ve always hated you in brown. Where on earth did you find that dreadful, frumpy brown linen dress?’ Paula demanded, her dark brows coming together in a frown.
‘I have a whole department store at my disposal,’ Tessa exclaimed. ‘And that’s when I spotted it. I know brown is not my colour, but it does have the desired effect, doesn’t it? I think it sort of deadens me, drains the colour out of my face and kills my hair.’
‘Well, yes, I suppose it does, but after today throw it away, and get rid of the ponytail as well. That’s not your style, my darling.’
‘I will, but Mummy, you did tell me I shouldn’t look happy and well, more like a…sad sack, the victim…of the abusive husband.’ Tessa paused, looked from her mother to Christopher and back at her mother, and shrugged. ‘I was just following your instructions, Mums.’
‘I know that, and it’s all right, Tess, you did well.’ Deeming an explanation to be necessary, Paula told Christopher, ‘Tessa’s been away with her brother, he took her for a rest, and she came back looking wonderful, so well rested and pretty I thought it might be better for her to play that down. I know Mark Longden and he’s going to walk in here and say to his lawyers, “Look how well my wife is, I never abused her.” He’ll deny everything, Christopher, if he gets a chance.’
‘I know that, Paula. But I saw Tessa’s bruises, and the photographs. You were right to tell her to look like…a sad sack, wasn’t that the expression? Fortunately, she’s not become quite that. I suppose it would be impossible for her to completely extinguish her flame.’
Startled, Paula stared at him, thinking he was sounding quite poetic all of a sudden. But then men did rather go for Tessa; they always had, perhaps because there was such an ethereal quality to her, and it wasn’t entirely dimmed today, he was correct about that.
At this moment the door opened and Geoffrey Creighton, one of Christopher’s junior partners, came bustling in, also carrying a pile of manila folders. After greeting everyone, he took a seat on the other side of Tessa, and told them: ‘Longden’s solicitors are just arriving downstairs. But no sign of Longden yet.’
‘It’s typical, he’s always been late for as long as I’ve known him,’ Tessa muttered.
‘I’d like to go over a couple of points with you, Tessa,’ C
hristopher said, opening one of the folders. ‘Let’s endeavour to get it out of the way before we’re surrounded.’
Mark Longden was the last to arrive.
From the moment he walked into the conference room Tessa was tense, on her guard, not knowing what to expect. His appearance was more or less the same, rather collegiate and youthful at first glance. But she noticed new lines around his mouth, and there was a strange bleakness in his eyes. As he moved across the conference room she saw that he was nervous, agitated underneath the surface. He was trying to control this, but she knew him so well she spotted all of the telltale signs, the odd quirks of his personality at once.
She could not help comparing him to Jean-Claude Deléon, even though she knew comparisons were odious. Jean-Claude was calm, purposeful, sure of himself in a quiet way, self-confident without being overbearing. Mark, who was spoilt, undisciplined and self-indulgent, showed how weak he was in everything he did. And he was avaricious beyond all reason.
When Mark smiled at her Tessa was startled. Her face was glacial. It remained stony and unforgiving.
Mark turned away at once, the smile still lingering, and then a smug look flashed across his face. He sat down with his solicitors and began to speak to them, appeared to be quite voluble.
After a few minutes, when greetings had been exchanged by all, Christopher Jolliet cleared his throat and looked across the table at Mark and his two representatives, Jonas Ladlow and Herbert Jennings.
He began: ‘Gentlemen, as you know we are meeting today to work out the financial settlement between the two parties present, Tessa and Mark Longden, who are about to seek the dissolution of their marriage in the divorce courts. However, this–’
‘I’ve made notes about what I want,’ Mark interjected. ‘Notes based on everything Tessa said to me several weeks ago, and what I want–’