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‘Your trouble is, you don’t realise how lovely you are, both inside and out. But Marcus knows, I’m sure.’
‘Thanks for the compliment, Katy, and I hope you’re right.’ Eloise forced a grin and, turning back to her drawing board, she added, ‘But in the meantime I suggest you and I get back to work,’ and resumed sketching.
Freedom was a funny thing Eloise mused, as she strolled down Kensington High Street on the second Friday of Marcus’s absence. Retail therapy, Katy had said as she’d told Eloise to take off for the afternoon.
Eloise had told herself she was glad to be on her own again, free to spend her time as she chose, but the reality was she missed Marcus’s lovemaking—even if it was just sex—and yes, she missed his company. She missed him…
Marcus had stipulated one year as his mistress, and to her horror last night she had actually caught herself working out how many weeks she had left, and resenting his time away from her. He was stunningly attractive, and she had heard New York was full of bright, beautiful women. Alone with her thoughts, she was eaten up with jealousy and finally realised Marcus might not even stay a year with her…
She knew he wasn’t actually bothered about the money she was supposed to be paying in kind. How could he be, when he spent a fortune on clothes and presents for her? She comforted herself with the thought perhaps he had got over his original anger, and genuinely enjoyed her company.
More and more over the past weeks Eloise had the growing conviction Marcus was truly beginning to care for her on a deeper level. He showed it in so many ways—flowers, an exquisite antique emerald and diamond necklace with matching earrings. She’d tried to refuse, but he wouldn’t let her, telling her it was a memento of their time in Paris, and had actually belonged to some duchess who was beheaded in the French revolution.
Sometimes the present was small, a single rose, and sometimes ridiculous, like when he left for New York and he presented her with a tiny ugly troll, and demanded, ‘Promise me this is the only male you will look at while I am away.’ Giggling, she’d promised and they’d made wonderful love. He telephoned her first thing in the morning British time, from his bed as it was about two in the morning in New York, and he liked to talk to her before going to sleep. She found it endearing, and it fed the hope that was growing in her heart that her love for him had a chance.
He was coming back next Tuesday and her spirit lifted at the thought, and she walked into Harrods with a smile on her face. A negligée to knock Marcus’s eyes out, she decided. Stopping by the perfume counter, she picked up a tester, and was about to spray some ruinously expensive scent on her wrist when a familiar voice called her name.
‘Eloise. How are you?’
She dropped the bottle back on the counter and turned around.
‘Ted. Ted Charlton, I have a bone to pick with you,’ she said bluntly, but she could not help smiling at his sheepish expression.
‘Guilty,’ he held up his hand. ‘I know what you’re going to say, but let me take you out for an early dinner, and I’ll explain.’
It was a warm summer evening and a long, lonely weekend stretched before her. She had nothing planned for tonight other than returning home and watching television. Why not? she thought.
‘Yes, okay.’ She waited while he bought a bottle of perfume.
‘I have a hot date Saturday night,’ he explained with a chuckle. ‘Let’s find somewhere to get a drink and then we’ll eat, and I’ll confess all my sins.’
Ted found them a great French restaurant and ordered a couple of Martinis, a bottle of good wine and the food.
‘I saw the pictures of you and Marcus in the press, and I can guess why you want to talk to me.’ Ted’s comment came over the aperitif.
Eloise took a moment to find her voice. ‘Marcus appears to be under the impression you and I…’ She cleared her throat, suddenly embarrassed.
‘I know what you’re trying to say.’ Ted helped her out. ‘And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied. But try and understand from my point of view, Eloise.’
‘I’m listening,’ she said quietly.
‘Marcus Kouvaris is a lot younger than me—very handsome, very successful, very clever.’ Ted lifted his glass and drained it, looking rather wry.
One delicate brow arched quizzically. ‘So?’ she prompted.
‘Well, it doesn’t show me in a very favourable light.’
‘Ted, forget the light—just tell me what happened,’ Eloise said bluntly.
‘It was really my ex-wife’s fault. Her lawyer did me for millions, and I had a very sweet deal, almost completed. No disrespect to KHE, but it was worth a lot more than your small business, I was short of cash, and I needed the money quick. I knew Marcus Kouvaris was in town, and I remembered the way he’d looked at you.’
‘The way he looked at me? What on earth has that to do with your business dealings?’ she asked, totally confused.
‘I’m a man; I know how the male psyche works. So I approached Kouvaris to take my share of KHE off my hands. I knew he could easily afford it, and it would earn him Brownie points with you. I wasn’t wrong; he agreed immediately.’
‘You mean, you think Marcus bought in to KHE to please me?’ The enormity of what Ted was suggesting boggled her mind, until s
he remembered the blackmail. But, even so, Ted’s suggestion made her think… Marcus had not gone deliberately seeking shares in KHE, so that must mean something.
