Sinful Truths. Anne Mather

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t have to wait long. Almost immediately the catch was released and he pushed open the door into the hall.

      Despite its rather gloomy interior, the hall smelled pleasantly of pot-pourri and furniture polish. A cleaning service kept the public halls and stairways in excellent repair, and the immediate impression was of warmth and gentility.

      The door closed automatically behind him, and after brushing a careless hand over his wet hair Jake mounted the carpeted stairs two at a time. He was breathing a little heavily when he reached the second landing, and he reminded himself that he hadn’t been to the gym in a while. Sitting in front of a computer might be easier than cutting rocks, so to speak, but it was a hell of a lot less healthy.

      Isobel’s door wasn’t open. He’d thought it might have been as she’d obviously let him in, but it wasn’t. Restraining the impulse to try the handle, he lifted his hand and knocked, waiting a little impatiently for her to answer.

      But Isobel didn’t answer the door. Emily did. And she stood glaring at him with all the rage and resentment he’d used to expect from her mother.

      ‘What do you want?’

      Her question took him by surprise. He’d felt sure Isobel would have discussed his visit with her. But clearly she hadn’t, and he was left having to explain to a precocious ten-year-old that her mother was expecting him.

      ‘Well, she’s not here,’ Emily declared with evident satisfaction. ‘So you’ll just have to come back some other time.’

      Jake blinked. ‘You’re not serious,’ he said, recalling the trouble he’d had keeping this appointment in the first place. Not to mention the bitch of having to park in the next street and walk half a mile in the pouring rain.

      ‘Yeah, I am, actually,’ the girl responded smugly. She was obviously enjoying his frustration. She made as if to close the door again. ‘I’ll be sure and tell her you called—’

      ‘Wait!’ Before she could slam the door in his face, Jake wedged his foot against the jamb. He winced as the heavy wood thudded against his boot, but he held firm, and Emily was eventually forced to admit defeat.

      ‘Mummy’s not going to like this, you know,’ she exclaimed, tossing back her plait of dark brown hair. ‘You can’t tell me what to do.’

      ‘I can and I will,’ retorted Jake grimly. ‘Now, why don’t you stop behaving like a brat and tell your mother I’m waiting?’

      ‘I’ve told you, she’s not here,’ declared Emily, her voice wobbling a little now. ‘Who do you think you are, trying to force your way in here, frightening me?’

      Jake had thought it would take rather more than his not unfamiliar presence to frighten Isobel’s daughter, but perhaps he was wrong. In any event, he was suddenly reminded that despite the fact that she was tall for her age—and insolent, as he knew to his cost—she was still a child, and he regretted losing his temper with her.

      So all he said was, ‘I’m your mother’s husband. Now, where is she? She knew I was coming. Why the—why isn’t she here?’

      Emily pursed her lips. ‘She’s at Granny’s,’ she admitted after a minute. ‘I don’t know how long she’s going to be.’

      ‘At your grandmother’s?’ Jake felt his temper simmering again, and determinedly tamped it down. But he should have known that Lady Hannah would have some hand in this. She had never liked him, never approved of her daughter having anything to do with him. Never accepted that without his help she wouldn’t still own that mouldering pile she called the family seat.

      Now he took a deep breath. ‘You don’t mean she’s in Yorkshire, do you?’

      ‘No.’ Emily pouted. ‘She’s at a Granny’s flat.’

      ‘Right.’ At least that wasn’t a couple of hundred miles away. ‘What’s she doing there?’ he asked, proud that no evidence of his own frustration showed in his voice.

      Emily shrugged her thin shoulders and he thought how like Isobel she was. Her hair was lighter, of course, and at present her childish features only hinted that one day she might possess her mother’s beauty. But she was tall and slender, and her eyes were the same luminous shade of blue.

      ‘Granny sent for her,’ she answered at last. Then, as if compelled to make the compromise, ‘She’s not very well.’

      A curse slipped out before he could prevent it, but the only reaction Emily made was to arch her brows in a reproof that was uncannily like her grandmother’s. ‘So you’ve no idea when she’ll be back?’

      Emily hesitated. ‘Well—she said she wouldn’t be long,’ she muttered unwillingly.

      ‘Wait a minute.’ Jake had just had a thought. ‘Are you on your own?’

      ‘What’s it to you?’ Emily resumed her defiant attitude. ‘I’m not a baby, you know.’

      ‘Maybe not.’ Jake scowled. ‘But even a ten-year-old should know better than to open the door to a stranger.’

      ‘Actually, I’m almost eleven,’ Emily corrected him scornfully. ‘Not that I’d expect you to remember that. You’re just my father.’

      ‘I am not your—’

      Jake broke off abruptly. He refused to get into an argument with her about her parentage. He didn’t know why the hell Isobel had told her he was her father, unless it was her way of shifting the blame. It was certainly true that it had caused an unbreakable rift between him and her daughter. And any hope he might have had of making an ally of the child had been stymied by her lies.

      ‘Anyway, I knew it was you,’ Emily added carelessly. ‘I saw you out of the window.’ Her eyes surveyed him with a surprisingly adult appraisal. ‘You’re wet.’

      Jake’s jaw compressed. ‘You noticed,’ he said drily, glancing down at his rain-spotted jacket. ‘Yeah, you may have observed that it’s raining.’

      ‘Peeing it down,’ agreed Emily, with a calculated effort to shock. ‘I s’pose you’d better come in.’

      Jake hesitated. ‘Did your mother tell you I was coming?’ he demanded, suddenly sensing why she’d been looking out of the window. He wondered if it also explained Isobel’s willingness to leave her daughter alone while she travelled across London at the start of the rush hour. My God, did she expect him to stay until she got back? To act as Emily’s babysitter, no less?

      ‘She might have done,’ Emily responded indifferently, turning and walking away from him. She paused halfway down the hall and looked back at him. ‘Are you coming in or not?’

      Or not, thought Jake savagely, glancing at the narrow gold watch on his wrist and stifling an oath. It was already after five. He’d promised Marcie he’d pick her up from her hairdresser’s in Mayfair at six. Dammit, he wasn’t going to make it.

      He heard the sound of a door opening downstairs and looked hopefully over the banister. But it was only one of the other tenants, probably arriving home from work. Suppressing his anger, he stepped unwillingly into his wife’s apartment.

      Emily СКАЧАТЬ