The Heiress. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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to stay or leave, only knowing—like Tom and Grace—that this was one hell of a mess the Deveraux were in.
“I’m sorry about that,” Tom said.
“You should be!” Amy cried, as always, the most emotional of the group. She dabbed furiously at the tears on her cheeks. “I can’t believe you would do something like that!” she fumed resentfully. Beside her, Grace seemed to concur.
“Was there just the one indiscretion?” Gabe asked warily, struggling to understand.
Chase regarded Tom with his customary cheekiness. “Or should we brace ourselves for other illegitimate heirs, to liven up our family gatherings?”
Tom glared at his sons. Gabe’s lack of faith and Chase’s sarcasm weren’t helping. Before Tom could censure them, however, his second-oldest son Mitch put in his two cents’. “Chase and Gabe have legitimate questions,” Mitch pointed out, taking his usual businesslike approach. “News like this could affect our reputation in the community. There are some who might not want to do business with Deveraux-Heyward Shipping if we’re embroiled in one scandal after another.”
“There won’t be any more scandals,” Tom said, disappointed in his family’s seemingly united stand against him. “Nor will there be any more illegitimate children showing up on our doorstep. Now, if you kids will excuse us, your mother and I have a lot to talk about.”
As soon as everyone left, Tom closed the doors to the double drawing room, and turned to Grace. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. It was lame, but he didn’t know what else to say.
Grace glared at him with years of pent-up resentment, the look in her eyes making him feel about two inches tall. “You should be, you son of a bitch,” she retorted just as quietly.
Tom wished she would just haul off and slug him and get it over with, instead of continuing to punish him, day after day, year after year. “Don’t hold anything back,” he advised just as sarcastically, wondering how much longer Grace was going to continue to make him pay for this.
Since the divorce, they’d been civil to one another at family functions, for the sake of the kids. Every time they had tried to do more than that, either be friends or something more, the issue of his infidelity would come up and they’d end up fighting again. Tom was tired of the discord. He sensed Grace was, too. But as for how to move on, move past this…
Grace stood and went over to the table where she had left her handbag. Her cheeks pink with distress, she picked it up and head bent, began to rummage through it. Tom studied her, thinking how pretty his former wife looked in the silky turquoise pantsuit. Her blond hair was much shorter these days—worn in attractive layers that framed her face and the nape of her neck—but her figure was still trim, her beautifully girl-next-door face unlined. As always, when he was near her, he found himself wanting to nurture and care for and protect her. Not that she would allow it. Not after what he had done.
“I always knew this was going to happen someday,” Grace said.
Grace glared at him. “I hoped it never would.” She fished out her keys and held them in the palm of her hand. “What are you going to do about Daisy?”
Tom shrugged. Now that he knew what Daisy thought was the truth, he hadn’t a clue. Daisy was one troubled young woman. Tempestuous, wild and unpredictable, and already the talk of Charleston, even without this revelation. The Templetons had spent years trying to control her. To no avail. Tom wondered if what Daisy had been told by Sister Agatha was true. Was Daisy his child? Or had Iris been with someone else in that time frame? And even if he was Daisy’s father, Tom admitted to himself, would he have any better luck, trying to parent Daisy, than Richard and Charlotte Templeton had had, during their tenure, as Daisy’s adopted mom and dad? Aware Grace was still waiting for his answer, Tom said bluntly, “I don’t know. I’ll give her until morning to simmer down, and then see if I can reason with her. And go from there.”
Grace arched her elegant eyebrows in skeptical fashion. “Good luck with that.”
He would need it, Tom admitted. And even then it might not be enough. Just as his apologies over the years hadn’t been enough. “Grace…”
She paused en route to the foyer. Wheeling halfway to face him, she said, “What?”
“You can’t leave.” Tom held out a beseeching hand. “Not like this.”
Grace shook her head, refusing his plea to stay, and at least try to work things out. She regarded him with a mixture of contempt and displeasure. “Daisy isn’t the only one who needs time to cool off.”
GRACE KNEW she shouldn’t have walked out on Tom like that. She should have stayed and tried to work out a way to deal with this very explosive situation. Publicly, it could be disastrous, if word got out right now. She had a new TV show in the works. She didn’t need this kind of bad publicity in the wake of her firing from Rise and Shine, America!
It had been bad enough going from one of the most watched women on morning television, from the coveted cohost position she had held for fifteen years, to being unemployed. But now this…
Grace didn’t know if she could handle living in the same city with Tom again, if she had to confront his illegitimate child—and therefore his infidelity—day after day after day.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to forget and forgive.
But that she couldn’t.
Lord knew she had tried. But every time he had touched her or tried to kiss her or hold her, she’d ended up flashing back to the day she had found him making love with Iris. Every time she had run into Daisy, or Iris, or any member of the Templeton family, she had experienced the same sick feeling inside her. Along with the feeling that she would never be smart or sophisticated or sexy enough to hold Tom. Not in any real or lasting way. Because if Tom could cheat on her once, the practical side of Grace knew, he could cheat on her again. And eventually, after nearly nine years of trying to work things out, and failing, she had known their marriage had to end. So she’d told him she wanted a divorce. And, in the end, he’d had no choice but to give her what she wanted, because she wasn’t coming back, not to him, and not to his bed.
Lately, of course, that had begun to change. In the wake of her job loss and public humiliation, she had flirted with the idea of trying again. Seeing if maybe she and Tom couldn’t find a way to work things out, to resurrect the love they had once shared. But now, with the resurgence of Daisy in their lives—as his illegitimate daughter no less—she knew she had just been fooling herself. She had to move on. Put him out of her heart and mind forever. And there was only one way, Grace knew, that she would ever be able to do that.
CHAPTER TWO
DAISY COULDN’T BELIEVE Jack Granger was still following her. It had been nearly two hours, and he was still on her tail. She’d been all over Charleston, out to Sullivan’s Island, Kiawah and back to Folly Beach and he was still right behind her in his black SUV, trailing her around the countryside. Not that she cared much one way or another, Daisy told herself as she drove past several rural churches, which were dark and silent that time of night, and into the marshland that comprised much of the island. Ignoring the turnoff for a summer camp, she drove past several large farms and a tomato-packing shed, thought briefly about stopping in at a down and dirty-looking honky-tonk just to see what Tom Deveraux’s “henchman,” Jack Granger, might do about that, and then continued cruising toward the center of the island.
Sooner or later, Daisy told herself as the warm ocean air blew in through her open driver-side window, caressing her body and ruffling her hair, Jack Granger had to get bored or give up and go home. Go back to her uncaring and irresponsible birth father. Something. Anything. So she could go unencumbered where she was really headed for that night. Because right now all she wanted was to be alone. To try and deal. Not that that was going to be easy, either, she acknowledged with a beleaguered sigh. And that was when it happened. The bad day to end all days became even worse as her car began to sputter and shake.
“I