Page 41 of The Threat of Love


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front of him.

Caro stopped dead and Fred Ramsgate turned his head to stare at her. 'Is this true?' He looked stunned.

Very flushed, Caro shook her head. 'No, Dad. You should know what newspapers are like, they invent most of their gossip.' She sat down opposite him and poured herself a cup of tea from the heavy silver teapot in the centre of the table. She didn't eat a cooked breakfast, merely slid a slice of wholemeal bread into the toaster, very aware of her father's eyes watching her every move.

'Well, where on earth did they get it?' he not unnaturally demanded. 'What put the idea into their heads? The financial pages have run speculation about a possible take-over of Westbrooks, that isn't surprising, but why did they dream up an engagement between you and Martell?'

'Well... You see, Gil was being harassed by Miranda—

the Countess of- '

'I remember her! Get on with it!' Fred said grumpily, watching her spread her toast with marmalade. 'What do you mean, harassed by her? What was she doing?'

'Whenever she quarrels with her husband she tries to move in with Gil, and he asked me to help get rid of her.'

Fred grunted disapproval. 'Chivalrous of him!'

Caro contrarily resented the criticism of Gil, although she had herself been irritated with him over the way he seemed incapable of dealing with Miranda. 'He didn't want her to keep involving him in her marital problems,' she defended uneasily. 'The newspaper gossip was all lies, both she and her husband are very old, close friends of his, there's no love-affair going on between her and Gil, but she would run to him whenever she quarrelled with her husband, and he wanted her to stop.'

'He could have tried telling her how he felt,' Fred said drily. 'If they're such old, close friends, surely he can talk frankly to her?'

'She wouldn't listen,' Caro said with a sudden flare

of rage. 'She's the most spoilt, selfish, unreason-

able--- ' She broke off, knowing she had given herself

away and her father eyed her with frowning concern. She looked down, very flushed. 'It was her who gave that story to the Press, out of spite! You see, I.. .well, it seemed a good idea at the time... it was just on impulse ... I told her Gil and I were engaged. I thought she would go away then, and she did, but she must have told the newspaper and they had a photographer outside Gil's flat, and...' She gestured to the paper. 'There you are!'

Fred put down his cup with a clatter, almost spilling the tea. 'I can't believe my daughter could do anything so stupid! What on earth possessed you? What did Martell have to say?' His eyes narrowed, and sharp suspicion darted through his face. 'Or was it really his idea? He got you to tell her you were engaged to him, then he leaks it to the papers, and hey, presto! It has to become a fact. Oh, yes, I can see how it would be a very attractive prospect for him. He's a very shrewd fellow, he knows that when I take over I'll change all the top management there, which means he will lose his job, and he must have been going crazy trying to work out how to stop that. If he married you, he wouldn't lose Westbrooks, he would be my son-in-law, with a glittering future in front of him—'

'No!' Caro almost shouted; she was shaking with pain and rage. 'It was my idea, and Gil was furious with me, he's still furious. You don't know him, he isn't the type to marry for money, in fact, he told me so—he said he wouldn't marry me if—' She broke off, swallowing,

unable to meet her father's intent eyes, afraid of what he must be picking up.

It was a relief when the phone on the sideboard behind her began to shrill. She picked it up, thinking that if it was the Press she would just hang up. It wasn't. It was Lady Westbrook, sounding elated.

'Oh, hello, Lady Westbrook,' Caro said warily.

'My dear girl, what wonderful news! I am so happy. I couldn't be more pleased. From the minute I met you, I felt instinctively that you were the wife I have always wanted for Gil, a nice girl with a kind heart and good manners, and a sound head on her shoulders.'

She sounded satisfied with that description, but Caro wasn't—she had to bite her lip because it made her sound so unutterably dull. But she had to explain to Lady Westbrook that she was not engaged to Gil, that the newspaper story was lies. So she took a deep breath, hunting for the right words, and while she was doing so Lady Westbrook happily chattered on.

'But why didn't you tell me? Why did I have to find out from a newspaper, heaven help us? Your father knew, I suppose?' There was distinct chagrin in her voice—she was an old woman whose feelings had been hurt, and Caro was sorry about that; she liked Gil's grandmother, so without stopping to think she hurriedly reassured her.

'Oh, no, Dad knew nothing about it!'

Fred Ramsgate, who had been eavesdropping, leaned over and took the telephone away. T certainly did not! I'm furious.'

Caro didn't hear what Lady Westbrook replied, but it made her father laugh before giving the phone back to her. He might not like the idea of Gil as a husband for his daughter, but, as Caro knew, he was very impressed by Lady Westbrook.

'Why ever did you tell Miranda first?' Lady Westbrook asked. 'And then let it break in the Press before you told us? I really don't understand young people, they behave in the strangest way, but never mind, I forgive you. I would forgive anything if it meant that I could die happy, knowing I was leaving Gil safely in your hands.'

'Oh, please, I'm sorry, but you see I- ' Caro broke in, distressed, but before she could tell her the truth, Lady Westbrook cut across her.

'My dear girl, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you and Gil are going to be happy, which makes me very happy indeed. Now, I want to see you both, to give you my blessing. I don't know what Gil was thinking of doing about an engagement ring, but it would make me very happy indeed if you would wear mine. Do you remember it? I must have been wearing it when you came to dinner—a big ruby set with diamonds? Come to dinner tonight, you and Gil, but of course I would like your father there, too. A family party.'

'Oh, dear, but... you see, I'm sorry, we can't,' Caro

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