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  Everything was now out in the open; there were no more secrets, and with their typical generosity of spirit the entire family had welcomed Evan, made her feel at home amongst them. And later they had welcomed Evan’s parents, Owen and Marietta Hughes, brought them into the clan without a murmur or a qualm.

  But there was Jonathan Ainsley Robin’s son, to contend with. Jonathan’s hatred had been focused on Paula for years, but he also loathed the rest of the family. Because of his dangerous games, Jack had Ainsley under surveillance at all times, wherever he was in the world. Jack needed to know what Ainsley was up to, when he was up to it, and most important, where.

  Ainsley was currently in London, and this disturbed Jack. Evan and Gideon’s marriage was uppermost in his mind. It was taking place on Saturday January 19, in the little church in the village of Pennistone. Jack was convinced that Evan and her father were targets now, just as Paula and Linnet were. Linnet’s resemblance to Emma must have been inflaming Ainsley no end, got his hackles up. And he must loathe Owen Hughes, his newly found half brother, albeit illegitimate. As for Evan, she was the grandchild Robin had always craved.

  After walking around the top floor for a few minutes, Jack spotted Linnet in the auditorium. Pushing open the glass doors, he called out, “Linnet! Good morning.”

  As she swung around, a smile struck her face. She sped over to Jack and gave him a hug, then stepped back and said, “What a lovely surprise! And how did you know where to find me?”

  He grinned. “I’m good at that, finding people, you know. Actually, I spotted you on the escalator and jumped on behind you. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Beauty. I’m glad you’re back. How was your honeymoon?”

  “Brilliant. Barbados was hot. New York cold. And exciting. Julian and I had a great time, enjoyed both places. But it’s nice to be home. And to see you.”

  Linnet had known Jack Figg all her life, and he was more like a favorite uncle than a colleague; now she tucked her arm through his in an intimate way, and together they walked to a grouping of chairs near the stage.

  Linnet said, “I was going to phone you a little later, to talk about Evan and Gideon’s wedding.”

  As they sat down, Jack told her, “Everything’s in place, and the security will be as extensive as it was for your wedding last month. Truly, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Linnet nodded and leaned forward. “Mummy’s staying in Yorkshire to have a rest. Ostensibly. But she felt she’d better be there to help Aunt Emily and Uncle Robin with the plans for the reception, since it’ll be at Pennistone Royal. Mums could do it by herself, but the others want to be involved. Insist, actually. Robin because of Evan, and Emily because Gideon’s her favorite child. Nothing’s too good for him.”

  “Does anyone ever admit to having a favorite?” Jack asked, his gray eyes crinkling at the corners. “Especially in this family?”

  Linnet laughed. “No. But they have them. And everyone loves Gid, you know that. He’s unique.”

  Immediately Jack thought of Gideon’s brother, Toby, whom he found highly competitive with his younger sibling. Toby was jealous. But Jack decided not to comment on this. He merely said, “True enough,” and continued, “Your mother gave me Emily’s guest list, and I received Gideon’s a couple of days ago. It seems to me that family only have been invited.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  There was a small silence.

  Jack broke it finally, his voice grown more serious. “There’s something I need to tell you, Linnet … . Jonathan Ainsley’s back in London, I wanted you to know.”

  “He always manages to show up at the wrong time!” she cried, her voice rising an octave. And she was suddenly filled with apprehension. Her hand trembled as she straightened her collar.

  “I have everything under control,” Jack reassured her swiftly. “My people have him under constant surveillance, that’s how we know he’s back here.” He refrained from telling her that Ainsley had been spotted that very morning watching the store from across the road. He went on, his voice as always calm and soothing. “I’m simply telling you this because I promised to keep you informed about him. I just want you to be aware … and on your guard, so to speak.”

  “I will be. Have you mentioned it to Gideon?” she asked, her voice worried, her face rigid, her green eyes still reflecting alarm.

  “Not yet.”

  “Shall I say something to Evan?”

  “No, don’t. It could upset her, and, after all, she’s very, very pregnant.”

  “She’s holding her own, though. And the babies are not due until late February, early March. But it’s probably better she doesn’t know Ainsley’s around. She and Gideon are going to stay at Pennistone Royal until the wedding. She can take it easy up there.”

  “And she’ll certainly be safe there,” he murmured in response. “That place is like Fort Knox these days.”

  “Thanks to you! And no doubt Gid’s had you working on Beck House, ever since he bought it for Evan and himself. And the babies. Installing a security system, I bet.”

  “He has indeed, and I have,” Jack answered, smiling. “It’s a lovely old house, and they’re both thrilled it came on the market when it did. Gideon especially since his father owned it once.”

  “With Daddy when they were gay young blades,” Linnet pointed out. “Gid told me it’s almost ready for them to move in.”

  “I know. But getting back to the guest lists, do you think there might be any last-minute invitations? To non-family members?”

  “I doubt it. You see, Jack, Evan hasn’t really made any friends, I mean outside the family. She’s been caught up with Gideon most of the time, and with India, Tessa, and me. Oh, wait a minute, there’s that couple who own the hotel … George and Arlette Thomas. Her father’s friends. I’m sure she would invite them, but—”

  “She did,” Jack cut in, “they’re on Gideon’s list.”

  “Then I can’t think of anyone else.”

  Jack nodded. “As I said, there’ll be plenty of security, but I do need your help with one thing, if you don’t mind.”

  “Tell me.”

  “More than anyone else, you know every person who’s going to attend the wedding. You would spot a stranger in a crowd, and instantly. Far quicker, certainly, than me. Or any of my people. And also, although I’m acquainted with every member of the family, I obviously can’t be everywhere at once. So, here’s what I want you to do … Keep your eyes peeled, make a mental note of everyone who’s there, and tell me or one of my operatives if you see anyone you don’t know. Immediately.”

  Linnet nodded. “I could wear a wire, or whatever you call it. A mike and an earpiece. Like you did at my wedding.”

  Jack burst out laughing and sat back in the chair, amusement reflected in his eyes. There was no one quite like her … except for Emma when she was alive. She would have made exactly the kind of outrageous suggestion Linnet just had.

  “Why are you laughing?” she asked, looking baffled.

  “Because only you or your great-grandmother would have said that to me. My God, you’re so like her.”

  “I’m glad I am. But getting back to the wedding, I could wear an earpiece and a mike, couldn’t I, Jack? I mean, what’s to stop me? Or who?”

  “No one really, but don’t you think it might alarm some members of the family? Like Great-Aunt Edwina, for instance.”

  “Oh come on, Jack, not Edwina! If she were to spot me with a mike on my lapel, she’d want one, too. You know she’s the general in the family, taking charge at the drop of a hat. But she’s a good egg.”

  “Indeed,” he murmured, biting back a smile. There was no denying it, at times Linnet took his breath away, but he had no doubts about her whatsoever. She was brave and determined as well as smart, and one day she would be the one to run the Harte stores. She was a star.

  “Jack, what about it?” she pressed. “Can I wear a mike?”

  “It’s not a bad idea at that, Linny,” he
replied at last, thinking: But wouldn’t Paula balk at her daughter being miked up at a family wedding?

  Almost as if she had read his mind, Linnet announced, “Mummy might object. If she knew. But she doesn’t have to know. I’m sure I can hide the mike on my lapel, behind a large flower. And nobody would notice an earpiece. My hair’s longer.” As she spoke she fluffed out her auburn bob, staring at him pointedly, her green eyes intense.

  “Your hair is longer,” he murmured and stood up, glancing at his watch. “Listen, I’ll get back to you on that later in the day. Let me think it through. Basically I don’t believe it will be necessary. It is a small wedding, after all.”

  As Jack headed for the door, he turned and said, “Oh, there is one other thing. Your mother told me that all of the help at the reception are locals, who’ve been employed at Pennistone Royal in the past. Just scan them for me on the day, okay?”

  She nodded and rose, walked over to him. “I’ll mention it to Margaret this weekend, ascertain they’re old hands. And of course I’ll keep my eyes open at the reception. And so will Julian. He knows everyone, since we grew up there together.” As she spoke of her husband, she filled with love for him; he was her childhood sweetheart, and she had always believed she would marry him.

  “Thanks, Beauty.”

  Linnet fell in step with him, and just before they reached the door she touched his arm lightly. “Jack?”

  “Yes?” He looked down at her questioningly.

  “Do you really think Jonathan Ainsley might try to cause trouble? Do something slightly insane?”

  “No, I don’t think he will. He’s too smart. On the other hand, I like to be one step ahead of the other guys. So I play it safe.”

  Linnet and Jack smiled at each other, and he left. Linnet watched him go down on the elevator, thinking what a relief it was to have him back, heading up Security. And then she wondered what Cousin Jonathan Ainsley was capable of—really. Anything. Even murder. She was convinced of that. She shivered. He was a sociopath who would stop at nothing to do them harm. Her mother had always said that, and Paula was rarely wrong. I’ve got to be on the alert at all times, Linnet told herself, and her face was grim as she went to look at the auditorium again.

  3

  Evan picked up a thick felt-tipped pen and in her bold, flowing handwriting wrote across the manila folder the word Brides. Then she pushed the folder to one side of the desk, smiling as she patted it almost lovingly. She had not realized how much work she had already done on the idea of creating a floor devoted to brides until she had gone into her computer an hour ago and printed everything out.

  After reading all the pages written weeks ago, she knew she had a workable and comprehensive blueprint, and she was pleased. She hoped that Linnet would also be pleased. More than likely she would be. But what about Paula O’Neill? Would their boss really let them create a floor catering only to brides at the expense of other departments?

  The question hung in the air for a moment. She had no answer. A sense that problems were brewing, a premonition of trouble still lingered in her mind. Very determinedly she endeavored to push this away, disinclined to ponder problems today. As Linnet would say, in her quaint way, there were better fish to fry.

  Rising, Evan walked to the long worktable at the other side of her office. The table was covered with photographs of the house Gideon had bought in Yorkshire, and she had an overwhelming desire to look at them again.

  Sitting down, she stared at those she had laid out days ago. Once more she experienced the familiar pleasure and excitement that knowing this would be her home engendered in her, as well as a genuine longing to be there with Gideon and the twins. She could hardly wait to move in, create a home, build a family with her beloved Gideon. How she adored him.

  As she shuffled through photographs of the grounds and the exterior of the house, she thought of that Saturday morning-last October, only three months ago, when she had first seen the house.

  Gideon had driven her over to the small, picturesque village of West Tanfield, explaining on the way that he wanted her to look at an old house with him. “It’s a house I’ve always liked, and it’s on the market,” he had said. “My only worry is that it might be a bit ramshackle. But we can walk through it and see how we feel about it, can’t we?”

  Evan had immediately agreed, even though she was surprised he wanted a house in Yorkshire when they both lived and worked in London, especially since they could stay with his parents or at Pennistone Royal whenever they felt the need to escape the city. But then she had suddenly realized that he wanted a place of their own, especially for after the twins were born, because his apartment in London, where they were currently living together, would soon become rather cramped. The idea of a house in the Dales now suddenly appealed to her, and her excitement was fired.

  On the drive over she learned that West Tanfield was halfway between Pennistone Royal, the great stately home which had been Emma’s and was now Paula’s, and Allington Hall, his parents’ family home, which had been inherited from his grandfather Randolph Harte.

  Just before they reached the village, Gideon had begun to laugh softly and had confided that many years earlier his father and Shane O’Neill had owned the house they were about to see. Winston and Shane were the same age, the closest of friends since childhood, and had been at Oxford together. They had apparently bought the house as a property investment, intending to renovate it and then sell it for a vast profit.

  Instead the two young bachelors had become so attached to the house while working on it that they had decided to move in themselves. It became their weekend retreat until Winston married Emily Barkstone, Gideon’s mother. Shane had continued to live in the house for a year, but in the end he had felt lonely without his old sparring partner and finally told Winston he thought they ought to put the place on the market. Winston had agreed, and the house was snapped up almost immediately. In the ensuing years it had changed hands only once.

  “Dad told me it was on the market,” Gideon had gone on as he parked outside the house, which stood at the bottom of a small hill at the edge of the village. “He said that whatever its state, I shouldn’t worry too much, because he and Shane had practically rebuilt it. Anyway, come on, darling, I have the key from the real estate office. Let’s go and take a look at what might become our family home.”

  He had jumped out of the car and run around to the passenger side to help her alight, then led her to the black iron gate set in an ancient stone wall. It was quite a high wall, with lichen and moss growing between the stones, and many tall trees were visible above it.

  “Beck House,” she had read aloud when they stood in front of the gate. “I like the name, Gid.”

  He had merely smiled and led her through the gate, along the path to the house, at one moment confiding, “It’s called Beck House because there’s a little stream, a beck, running through the grounds.”

  The minute she saw it Evan was enchanted, smitten actually, and she knew whatever its condition, she wanted to live there. It was positively beautiful.

  Situated in a small dell, it was surrounded by sycamore trees and huge old oaks, which encircled the back. Elizabethan in origin, it was low and rambling, made of local stone. It had tall chimneys, leaded windows, and a half-timbered Tudor facade.

  In her mind’s eye, Evan had always had an image of what an English country house should look like, an image instilled in her by her grandmother Glynnis Hughes. And on that cool and sunny October morning, she had seen this image take shape in reality. When Gideon put the big old key in the lock of the front door, her excitement knew no bounds.

  Evan knew she would never forget how she had felt when she stepped over the threshold and looked around the front hall. She was filled with joy, and she knew without any doubt that she and Gideon and their children were going to be happy here. The house had a good feeling.

  She remembered that morning so well, walking through the big, empty rooms, empty of furnitur
e but full of atmosphere and sunlight and dust motes rising in the shimmering air. She thought now of the enormous, old-fashioned kitchen with its dark-wood ceiling beams, mullioned windows, and huge stone hearth. It was a family kitchen, the core of the house, the kind every woman loves. To her relief, the reception rooms on the ground floor were spacious and well proportioned, while the upstairs bedrooms were cozy and intimate.

  “It’s the perfect house for a family,” she had told Gideon. “It’s just right for us, and it has a bit of family history as well, doesn’t it?”

  “Indeed it does,” he had replied, his eyes full of laughter as he kissed her cheek, and asked, “Shall we buy it then?”

  “Yes, please,” she had answered, then wrinkled her nose. “If it isn’t too ramshackle.”

  Gideon had laughed uproariously. “I don’t think it’s a bit ramshackle, actually, at least not the interiors. The outside woodwork needs a few coats of paint, and the stone wall needs repairing, but otherwise, I think it’s rather … a beauty. Dad said the structure was solid, the bones good, and he was correct.”

  And so a decision was made in the middle of what would become their living room, and three weeks later the house was theirs.

  Evan picked up some of the pictures and looked through them for the umpteenth time. The interiors had all been repaired and renovated, the walls and doors painted, the floors restored and polished, the chimneys swept by the local chimney sweep, and every window had been washed.

  Beck House was ready. It awaited them. And next week, while they were in Yorkshire getting ready for their wedding, she and Gideon and his mother, Emily, were going to supervise the hanging of the draperies, the laying of the carpets and rugs, and the placement of the furniture. Many of the wood pieces, mostly antiques, had been gifts from Emily and Paula. Both women had hunted through their attics and come up with some really wonderful finds.