The Mistress Deception. Susan Napier
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hate it over there? Mum and Dad wouldn’t let me come back on my own, but if I was coming to live with you, then they couldn’t say no, could they?’ She bit her lip and her voice wavered. ‘Unless you don’t want me to…you think I’d be in the way…’
A lump rose in Rachel’s throat and she had to swallow hard to stop herself bursting into tears. She longed to let her emotions rule, to sweep Bethany fiercely to her breast and assure her that of course she wouldn’t be in the way, that she would always be welcome into Rachel’s home and heart.
But she knew she couldn’t. There were bigger issues at stake. She took a deep breath.
‘Oh, darling, I know how you’re feeling.’ She cupped Bethany’s long face with her strong fingers and smiled brightly into her woeful eyes, hoping to phrase her rejection in a way that wouldn’t irreparably damage their very precious relationship. ‘I know you’re scared about stepping out into the unknown, but you’re not alone. Don’t you think that your parents are finding this move a bit scary, too?’
Bethany blinked at the sudden shift in her perspective. ‘Mum and Dad?’
‘Of course—they’re leaving behind all their friends, too. It’s going to be especially tough for your dad—he has to step into a new job in a new country with colleagues he doesn’t know, while displaying the confidence and authority that people expect of his new position. And your mum—she has to give up a job she really loves and revert to being a full-time housewife in a community where she doesn’t know a soul. But together you’ll get through it. The three of you are a team…’
Bethany was quick to pick up the underlying message. ‘So you won’t let me come and live with you, even if I’m horribly homesick?’ she said in a thin, high voice.
Rachel braced herself against the mixture of hurt and resentment glowing in the reproachful green eyes. ‘If you go over there expecting to be able to do that, you’re just setting yourself up for failure, and you’re too intelligent for that. When you want to succeed at something you know you have to put your whole heart into it. Your mum and dad need you to be there for them, Beth. Don’t disappoint them.’
‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’ said Bethany stiltedly. ‘If you don’t want me…’
Rachel forced her voice to remain steady, although she felt clawings of panic shredding at her control. ‘You have a choice about the way you behave—whether you accept with grace or try and make everyone around you feel guilty because life isn’t perfect. You take your mum and dad’s unconditional love and support for granted, but a lot of kids grow up without that kind of emotional security to back them up when things get rough.’ Her eyes were clear as she picked her words carefully. ‘I only wish your grandparents had been as protective of Robyn and I as Robyn and Simon are of you. It’s difficult to have any confidence in yourself when you hear nothing but criticism and condemnation from the people you love…’
Bethany looked away, scuffing her thick-soled school shoes on the tiled floor, the freckles standing out on her pale skin. ‘I guess…’ She lifted her chin and said with a totally false brightness, still avoiding Rachel’s eyes, ‘I suppose I’d better get my bag, or I’m going to miss my bus.’
Ignoring her half-eaten cereal on the table, she grabbed her lunchbox off the bench and rushed out of the kitchen. Rachel closed her eyes, letting out a ragged sigh as she sagged against the sink.
‘Thanks.’
She opened her eyes to see her sister hovering in the doorway, her sweet face grave.
Rachel smiled wanly. ‘For what?’
Robyn came into the kitchen, her eyes shadowed with relief and redolent with sympathy. ‘For simply being an aunt.’
‘You’re my sister,’ said Rachel. ‘What else would I be?’ They looked at each other, a world unspoken in the glance.
‘She didn’t really want to stay with me, anyway,’ Rachel dismissed. ‘It isn’t a rejection of you and Simon. She’s just temporarily got cold feet.’
‘I know. But, still, if you’d given her the choice she was asking for it could have made things very difficult for us over the next few years.’
‘Well,’ said Rachel, ‘I do have a pretty crammed life already. God knows I don’t need the added complication of trying to cope alone with daily doses of teenage angst!’
Robyn wasn’t fooled by her flippancy. ‘Oh, Rachel, you would have got on famously, and you know it. If you were only thinking of yourself you would have said yes to her in a New York minute! I know you hated to hurt her, but she’ll get over it. From what I heard she was trying to manipulate you with a sneaky form of emotional blackmail.’
So…she was the victim of two separate blackmail attempts in one day, Rachel thought with an unexpected sting of humour—and it was still only breakfast!
‘Do you think she’ll ever forgive me for letting her down?’ she couldn’t help asking.
Robyn crossed to give her the hug she so badly needed. ‘You haven’t let her down. You love her and want the best for her. You always have. She knows that.’
‘I’m going to miss you all horribly,’ she admitted gruffly. Up until now she had been careful not to let them see how shattered she had been by their decision to move abroad.
‘I know.’ Robyn responded to the rib-crushing fierceness of her hug with a little gasp. ‘But we’re only going to be an e-mail away, and at least I’ll have plenty of spare time to keep you up to date with our doings. We can even send each other photos over the Internet!’
A short while later, when Robyn and Bethany had departed for school and work, Rachel dragged the abused package out of her handbag, grappling with the awful spectre that her sister’s innocent words had raised.
There were worse things than having yourself splashed all over the tabloids. What if Matthew Riordan decided to go global and posted those frightful pictures on the Internet!
She smoothed out his loathsome note and forced herself to go over it again, word by horrible word.
In places the slashing green down-strokes almost seemed to dig through the page, as if they’d been written in a rage. Having seen the reputedly buttoned-down Riordan heir in the raw, both literally and figuratively, Rachel could well believe he was not as cold-blooded as his reputation made out, but this outpouring of contempt made him sound dangerously reckless.
What did he really mean by his threats? They were actually rather vague. Should she wait for him to deliver more specific demands…or was he assuming that she knew what they were?
Perhaps he intended to broadcast the photographs regardless of her response—or lack of it? How could she defend herself if he started sending copies to the press, to Westons’ clients? Her family and close friends might believe her explanations, but to everyone else she would be reduced to an obscene joke. As Frank was constantly drilling into her, reputation was everything. He was so proud of the Westons name. If he found out that there was the slightest possibility of Rachel being involved in a scandal he would be furious. In order to protect the business she might well have to resign.
Rachel bit her lip, battening down her fear. She mustn’t let herself be panicked into doing anything stupid. She should be thinking damage control, not capitulation.
She had heard Kevin Riordan boast that his son intended to run for City Council in this year’s local body elections, with an eye to contesting the Mayoralty some time in the future. Logically, that meant Matthew Riordan had almost as much of a vested interest in keeping compromising photographs out of the public eye as Rachel did.
It was that ‘almost’ which gave him his ruthless edge. He was prepared to subject himself to public humiliation and rely on his PR clout for damage control afterwards…but surely only as a last resort. At the moment the primary value of the photographs to him must be as a weapon to hang over her head.
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