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Alas, she discovered as she ferreted through the clothes that Adam had carelessly stuffed into her suitcase, nothing he had brought matched. He had included the bottom half of two suits and the top half of a third, a skirt and blouse that didn’t match, a dress that she hadn’t worn for at least three years and another that she didn’t even remember possessing, and assorted bits and bobs that didn’t go with anything else.
First things first. She nipped along to the big, old-fashioned but very functional bathroom and washed her face and hands. When she came back she wedged the bedroom chair under the handle of the connecting door and peeled off her clothes.
The black dress that she didn’t remember seemed her best bet but when she struggled into it she realised why it had seemed so unfamiliar. It was one of Helen’s discards, several of which hung, largely unworn, in the back of Honor’s wardrobe. What looked elegant on Helen’s willowy size ten verged on the tacky when draped on a figure which hovered erratically between size twelve and fourteen, even though the famous designer label claimed the figure-hugging tube was of the ‘one size fits all’ variety.
It had undoubtedly been a mini on Helen, revealing a startling amount of long, slender leg. On Honor the length was more modest but the fit definitely wasn’t. It was desperately tight cross the hips and bust and although the stretchy, bubble-knit fabric hid a multitude of sins there was no getting away from the fact that it made her look disa
ppointingly lumpy. Her bra straps refused to align with the cut-away shoulders, further destroying the elegant simplicity of line, although at least the front was high enough to hide the thin scratches that marred her chest. She muttered darkly to herself, cursing high-fashion designers who refused to acknowledge that most of the world’s women didn’t conform to their artificial standards of bodily perfection.
She rifled back through her suitcase and came up with a short-cropped red cardigan. A jacket would have been better but this would have to do. She pulled it on. It created a much less tarty effect. She couldn’t wear stockings because she didn’t have a suitable slip to stop them sticking to the knit skirt but thankfully her legs were evenly tanned from her gardening and at least Adam had, obviously by mistake, included some flatteringly high-heeled black shoes that would minimise the flare of her calves. She dragged a brush ruthlessly through her hair, grimacing at the knots and the way it sprang up again in a crackling frenzy. The harder she tried to control it, the more it disobeyed.
The carpet on the floor was thick and the house seemed strangely hushed as she found her way back downstairs. Always sensitive to atmosphere, Honor felt a prickling unease as she moved along the ground-floor hall, passing several fastidiously neat rooms furnished in a jarring mixture of the starkly modern and comfortably antique. The silence was almost unnatural, as if the house were watching her progress disapprovingly, isolating her within its walls, waiting for her to set the first foot wrong.
A whisper of sound had her quickening her step to push open the double doors opposite the kitchen, grateful that she’d found the dining-room at last.
Expecting to see only Adam and his mother, she was startled to find two other people with them. One was a slender, strikingly attractive brunette in her mid-thirties and the other was a plump, blonde-haired child of about ten or eleven whose mouth fell rudely open as Joy Blake hustled forward.
‘Honor, come in, don’t be shy—come in and meet my daughter-in-law, Tania. She’s just arrived with Adam’s daughter, Sara. Sara, say hello to Miss Sheldon...’
A loud buzzing invaded Honor’s skull. Adam was married? Adam was married to this glamorous woman! And he had a daughter...a girl who, by the way she was clinging tightly to her father’s hand, adored him.
The swine! The lying, hypocritical, faithless devil! No wonder he had been so frantic to get those compromising letters back!
Honor marched into the room giving him a searing look that she was pleased to see wiped the tentative half-smile off his face to be replaced with a tiny, nervous, downward twitch. Good, he was worried. He deserved to be! She had the ammunition to blow this little game of happy families wide apart!
CHAPTER FIVE
THE dinner was every bit as delicious as Joy Blake had promised it would be, but in spite of her best intentions Honor had difficulty enjoying a single bite.
For one thing Adam’s weird daughter watched her like a hawk from across the table, following the progress of every mouthful with a kind of horrified fascination, as if expecting at any moment that Honor was going to transmogrify from an ordinary woman into a hideous monster.
Every time Honor tried to address a friendly remark to her, the dark brown gaze would skitter away and the girl would give a very good impression of being both deaf and dumb. Honor didn’t have a lot of experience with children, but Adam had mentioned that Sara was twelve and Honor thought that was plenty old enough to have acquired a few social graces.
The blatantly hostile vibes emanating from the foot of the table were another keen appetite-suppressant.
Under her cold and haughty exterior Tania Blake was seething with tension. Honor had recognised the type on sight—her sister’s milieu was crowded with them—women dedicated to the pursuit of personal ambition, social piranhas who cruised conversations in search of a kill that would enhance their own standing. Their lethal use of witticism and innuendo to vanquish rivals had always reminded her of an eighteenth-century poet’s cynical reference to society gossip: ‘At ev’ry word a reputation dies.’
Eyeing the electric-blue Thai silk dress and heavy gold jewellery that created such a vibrant impression in the serene dining-room, Honor felt miserably at a disadvantage, physical as well as psychological. Her anger at Adam re-ignited, burning away her embarrassment at the invidious position in which his flagrant literary—if not literal—unfaithfulness had placed her. If Tania was a piranha then Adam had exactly the kind of wife he deserved!
Unfortunately Honor’s haste to dissociate herself with his perfidity only plunged her into deeper embarrassment.
If only she had waited for Joy to finish her rambling introduction instead of rushing into speech, but when the beautiful woman at Adam’s side had greeted her with icy distaste Honor had felt compelled to try and explain.
‘Mrs Blake—’ there had been no friendly ‘call me Tania’ and, from the looks of things, was not likely to be! ‘—I assure you that I wouldn’t have invaded your home like this if...if the police hadn’t insisted—’
To her horror Adam interrupted curtly.
‘You mean if I hadn’t insisted. There’s no need to make excuses for me, Honor. I didn’t ask for your protection and I don’t need it.’
Honor turned on him fiercely, holding her head so that her mouth couldn’t be seen by his family as she whispered fiercely at him in an undertone, ‘No, but your wife and child might!’
Adam didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. ‘My wife?’
‘My God, you really don’t have a single shred of conscience, do you?’
‘Honor—’
‘You faithless pig, don’t you Honor me—!’
