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‘Kate…’ The deep measured voice hadn’t changed, nor the clipped curt way he said her name, even if he was saying it as though he had never heard it before, looking at her as though he had never set eyes on her before too.
Relief flooded through her, acting as a trigger to release her from her stunned paralysis.
He was extending his hand towards her, and she almost cringed away from touching it, but some deep instinct for protection urged her to take it, to behave as normally as she could.
He shook her hand, his fingers cool and hard against her own. Strange to think that she had once dreamed of those fingers against her skin…touching, caressing, bringing her to womanhood. She shuddered deeply and stepped back, completely unable to look into his face. Could it be that he hadn’t recognised her? Oh, please God, let that be the case. She didn’t think she could bear the humiliation of having to face him if he knew the truth.
‘Dominic has just arrived from the States,’ she heard Vera Benson explaining. ‘He and my husband are in the same line of business—merchant banking.’
Merchant banking. Was that what he called it? Against her will, Kate felt a deep anger stir inside her. That weekend when Ricky brought Dominic Harland home with him, she hadn’t realised why. That realisation had only come later after Ricky’s death, when she discovered the extent of the money her late husband owed his old school-friend. It was Dominic who held a mortgage on the farmland surrounding the house and she had sold that land to repay his losses after Ricky died, but it wasn’t because of that that she couldn’t bear to face him.
‘Come on, everyone, dinner’s almost ready. Kate, you’re next to Dominic,’ Sue announced, shepherding them all towards the dining-room. Instinctively Kate stopped and looked across at him. He was staring back at her, the gold eyes darkly topaz, and as he watched her Kate knew that he had not forgotten…that he had recognised her. Dark colour stained her normally pale skin as the agony of her memories convulsed her. Dear God, she had never thought she would ever see him again. She had prayed and hoped she would not, comforted in the worst moments of her self-torment by the knowledge that he was not a man who would ever reappear in her life, but now here he was, carrying with him information which could blast apart all that she had made of herself, and all that she had struggled to put aside after Ricky’s death.
The meal was a nightmare, from which she surfaced briefly aware of the ebb and flow of comfortable conversation going on around her, but totally unable to take any part in it. She heard her name mentioned and looked up unguardedly, letting her g
lance mesh with Dominic Harland’s. Anger and contempt burned in the gold depths of his eyes, scorching her.
‘My goodness, how very interesting!’
She was aware of Vera Benson turning towards her with a warm smile, but felt totally unable to respond.
‘You must come over and look at our conservatory,’ the other woman was saying. ‘It’s been badly damaged, I’m afraid, and a lot of the glass needs replacing. I had been thinking in terms of something pretty and amusing in one of the panels.’
This was business, Kate told herself, struggling to break free of her own terror, forcing herself to respond and ask when it would be convenient for her to call.
‘I’m not sure what our plans are at the moment—we’re still based in London, but perhaps I could give you a ring, say, later in the week when I know what we’re doing next weekend.’
Kate gave Vera her telephone number, making a mental note to mention to Harry that they would need business cards. She knew she ought to have been elated at the prospect of her first freelance commission, but she felt too weighed down with anxiety. Would Dominic Harland tell his friends what she had done? She closed her eyes. No…no, surely not…
‘Kate! Kate, are you all right?’
She opened them again to be confronted by Sue’s concerned face. ‘You went quite white,’ Sue explained worriedly. ‘I thought for a moment you must be ill.’
Oh, if only she was. If only she could make that excuse and leave, but if she did Sue was bound to worry. It wasn’t fair to her friend to disrupt her dinner party.
‘Not ill…just slightly tired,’ she fibbed. ‘I stayed up too late last night…’
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dominic’s mouth curl downwards.
‘It seems that widowhood hasn’t changed your lifestyle then, Mrs Hammond.’
Kate wasn’t sure who was the most shocked by his comment; Vera Benson was staring quite openly at him, while Sue’s eyes had widened to their furthest extent. Neither of the other two couples seemed to have heard his remark, but John was looking at him, frowning slightly.
Please don’t let me be sick, Kate prayed feverishly. Of them all, only she knew what Dominic meant.
‘I was working,’ she said tonelessly. ‘An idea for a design—’
‘I didn’t realise you already knew Kate, Dominic,’ Vera Benson interrupted, plainly puzzled that he had not mentioned it before.
‘I knew her husband,’ he corrected, his voice grating slightly as he looked across the table at Kate. ‘He was—a client of mine.’
Suddenly it was almost too much for her. He was baiting her deliberately, she thought bitterly…he was deliberately trying to push her into…into what? Into admitting what she had once tried to do? But why? Oh, she could understand well enough why he might loathe and despise her, even why he should want to punish her…but didn’t he realise he had already done that in the most effective way there was?
Suddenly too tired to pretend any longer, she looked directly at him, forcing herself to meet the cold blaze of his eyes.
‘My late husband was a compulsive gambler,’ she said wearily for Vera Benson’s benefit, adding for Sue and John’s, ‘Mr Harland’s company was the one that loaned Ricky money against the security of the farmland.’
‘Very neat, Mrs Hammond, but I notice you were very careful not to explain exactly why your husband turned to gambling.’
