Michelle Douglas - A Deal To Mend Their Marriage

He’d have laughed at her smugness, but his gut had clenched up too tightly at her smile.

She leaned forward, suddenly all business. ‘I’m now a director at Vertu, the silver and decorative arts division at Richardson’s.’

‘Right.’ He didn’t let on that he knew that. When they’d married she’d been only a junior administrator at the auction house.

‘Yesterday I placed into my father’s safe a very beautiful and rather valuable snuffbox to show to a client this morning.’

‘Is that usual?’

She raised one elegant shoulder. ‘When selected customers request a private viewing, Richardson’s is always happy to oblige.’

‘Right.’

‘When I went to retrieve the snuffbox this morning it wasn’t there.’

He set down his now clean plate, his every sense sharpening. ‘You have my attention.’

‘I put it in the safe myself, prior to the reading of my father’s will.’

‘Which took place where?’

‘In my father’s study—the same room as the safe.’

He remembered that study. He nodded. ‘Go on.’

Her expression was composed, but she was twisting the thin gold bangle on her arm round and round—a sure sign of agitation.

‘The fact that I am sole beneficiary came as a very great shock to both Barbara and I.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Your father and Barbara have remained married all this time?’

‘Yes. I believe she loved him.’

Jack wasn’t so charitable, but he kept his mouth shut.

‘When Barbara retired to her room, the lawyer gave me this letter from my father.’ She rose, removed a letter from her purse and handed it to him. ‘More cake?’

He shook his head and read the letter. Then he folded it up again, tapping it against his knee. ‘He thought she was stealing from him.’

Knowing Roland Fielding, he’d have kept a very tight rein on the purse strings. What kind of debts could his lovely young wife have accrued that would have her risking being caught red-handed with stolen goods?

‘He was wrong. It wasn’t Barbara who was pilfering those bits and pieces. It was Paul.’

‘Paul is still working...?’ He blew out a breath. ‘Shouldn’t he have retired by now?’

She pressed her hands together. ‘My father wasn’t a man who liked change.’

That was the understatement of the year.

‘And, to be fair, I don’t think Paul is either. I suspect the thought of retirement horrifies him.’

The bangle was pushed up her arm and twisted with such force he thought she’d hurt herself.

‘He and Barbara have never warmed to each other.’

‘And you’re telling me this because...?’

‘Because Paul was putting all those things he’d taken—’

‘Stolen,’ he corrected.

‘He was putting them away for me.’

Jack pressed his fingers to his eyes.

‘He was as convinced as I that I’d be totally written out of the will. He thought that I might need them.’

He pulled his hand away. ‘Caro, I—’

She held up a hand and he found himself pulling to a halt.

‘If Barbara finds out why my father wrote her out of the will and that Paul is responsible, she’ll want him charged. I can’t let that happen—surely you can see that, Jack? Paul was doing it for me.’

‘You didn’t ask him to!’

‘That’s beside the point. I know Barbara has been wronged, and I mean to make it up to her. I intend to split the estate with her fifty-fifty.’

He let the air whistle between his teeth. ‘That’s very generous. You could probably buy her silence for a couple of million.’

‘It’s not generous and I don’t want to “buy her silence”! I want her to have half of everything. Half is certainly far more than I ever expected to get, and I’m fairly certain she won’t begrudge me it.’

Was she?

‘Where does the snuffbox come in?’

She hauled in a deep breath. ‘During the middle of the night Barbara removed the jewellery from the safe. As it’s all hers she had every right to remove it.’

He straightened. ‘Except the snuffbox went missing at the same time?’

She nodded. ‘When I asked her about it she claimed to not have seen it.’

‘But you don’t believe her?’

Her fingers started to twist that bangle again. ‘She was upset yesterday—understandably. She wasn’t thinking clearly. I know she wouldn’t do anything to deliberately hurt me, but my father has treated her so very shabbily and I suspect she panicked. I fear she’s painted herself into a corner and now doesn’t know how to return the snuffbox while still maintaining face.’

‘And you want me to recover said snuffbox without her being aware of it?’

‘Yes, please.’

It should be a piece of cake. ‘What happens if the snuffbox isn’t restored to Richardson’s?’

‘I’ll lose my job.’ She let out a long, slow breath. ‘I’ll never work in the industry again.’

He suddenly saw what she meant by revenge. Her job had been more important to her than starting a family with him. Now he had the potential to help destroy all the credibility she’d worked so hard to gain in one fell swoop. The irony!

‘Worse than that, though...’

He lifted a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘Worse than you losing your job?’

Her gaze didn’t waver. ‘Richardson’s prides itself on its honesty and transparency. If I don’t return that snuffbox there will be a police investigation.’

‘The scandal would be shocking,’ he agreed.

‘For heaven’s sake, Jack—who cares about the scandal?’ She shot to her feet, hands on hips. ‘Barbara does not deserve to go to jail for this. And Paul doesn’t deserve to get into trouble either.’

They were both thieves!

‘This mess is of my father’s making. He forces people into impossible situations and makes them desperate. I won’t let that happen this time around. I won’t!’ She pulled in a breath and met his gaze squarely. ‘I mean to make this right, Jack. Will you help me?’

He stared at her. This woman had dashed all his most tightly held dreams. Five years ago she’d ground them underfoot as if they hadn’t mattered one iota. The remembered pain could still make him wake up in a lather of sweat in the middle of the night.

He opened his mouth.

His shoulders slumped.

‘Yes.’

Since when had he ever been able to say no to this woman?

* * *

Caro tiptoed past the disused pantry, and the butler’s and housekeeper’s offices—both of which had been vacant for as long as she could remember. The kitchen stretched all along the other side of these old rooms, with the small sitting room Paul used as his office on the other side of the kitchen. She’d chosen this route so as to not disturb him, but she tiptoed just the same. The man had bat-like hearing.

Lifting the latch on the back door, she stepped out into the darkness of the garden, just as she’d promised Jack she would. She glanced around, wondering in what corner he lurked and watched her from. Feigning indifference, she lifted her head and gazed up at the night sky, but if there were any stars to be seen they were currently obscured by low cloud.

She knew from past experience, though, that one rarely saw stars here—the city lights kept the stars at bay and, as her father had always told her, star-gazing never got anybody anywhere in life.

‘Tell that to astronomers and astronauts,’ she murmured under her breath.

‘Miss Caroline?’

Paul appeared in the kitchen doorway. Caro wiped suddenly damp palms down her skirt. No one was supposed to see her out here.

‘Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.’

She turned towards him. ‘Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?’