Michelle Reid - Passionate Scandal

‘Don’t I just?’ she agreed, then added on a burst of inspiration. ‘Hey—why don’t you come to lunch here on Sunday! You could meet Perry yourself then, and maybe give your honest opinion of the real thing rather than the legend!’

The suggestion met with utter silence. A sudden tension buzzing so strongly down the line that it was impossible to miss it, though she did not understand the reason for it.

‘I’m afraid I can’t do that,’ she heard Vicky say coolly.

‘Why?’ She frowned. ‘Got a date?’

There was another small silence, then, ‘Don’t you know, Madeline?’ Vicky asked curiously.

‘Know what?’ Her tone alone said she had no idea what Vicky was referring to.

The other girl sighed, muttered something not very ladylike which had Madeline’s eyebrows arching all over again, then lowering into an incredulous frown as Vicky curtly explained, ‘The Gilburns and the Stantons no longer acknowledge each other, dear,’ she was informed with a shivering derision. ‘They haven’t since you and my brother split up.’

Louise walked into the room just as Madeline was slowly replacing the telephone receiver.

‘Your young man, dear?’ she enquired.

‘No.’ Madeline was still frowning. ‘Vicky,’ she said grimly, then looked up at Louise. ‘Is it true?’ she demanded. ‘Have our two families been involved in a feud for the last four years?’

‘Oh, dear,’ Louise sighed and sat down next to Madeline on the sofa. ‘I wondered how soon you would find out.’

Horrified, Madeline jerked to her feet. ‘I can’t believe it!’ she exclaimed.

‘No, neither could I when it first began,’ Louise agreed. ‘Men are such children sometimes, Madeline!’ she sighed. ‘And I’ve been warning your father for weeks that he ought to put a stop to it before you came home. But he refuses to listen. He blames James Stanton for starting it—after Dominic, of course, that is—and I can only assume that James blames your father—after you. Am I being too honest, Madeline?’ she broke off to ask anxiously when she saw Madeline’s face grow steadily more distressed as she went on. ‘I have no wish to upset you with all of this, but it is a problem which has to be taken note of simply because you will sense it the moment we all get together in the same room.’

‘Oh, so you do actually move in the same company,’ Madeline scowled. ‘I suppose that has to mean something.’

‘Not much,’ Louise grunted. ‘We may attend the same things but we never acknowledge one another.’

‘Good grief!’ Madeline exploded. ‘But that’s positively—archaic!’

‘I entirely agree with you, dear.’ Louise nodded. ‘But it’s there and has to be faced. And I wouldn’t like you to make some terrible gaffe by speaking to the Stantons this Saturday night at the Lassiters’ only to find yourself cut dead where you stand.’

‘Y-you mean, they would actually do that?’ Her blue eyes widened in pained disbelief. ‘No wonder Vicky was so damned touchy whenever we mentioned family! My God,’ she breathed, utterly appalled by it all.

‘Your father felt sure you would be able to cope,’ Louise was looking pensive at Madeline’s paste-white face, ‘but if you don’t feel you can face it all just yet, Madeline, we would understand if you preferred not to attend...’

‘Oh, I’m going,’ Madeline murmured ominously. ‘And don’t think for one moment that I shall be joining in your petty feud!’

‘I thought you might say that,’ Louise grimaced.

Another sudden thought brought Madeline’s gaze arrowing on to her stepmother. ‘Does this also mean that the Stantons have not been invited to Nina’s wedding?’ she demanded, saw the answer in Louise’s uncomfortable face and was furious. ‘Vicky is my best friend!’ she cried. ‘We—all three of us—Nina, Vicky and I planned to be bridesmaids at each other’s wedding! Are you now telling me that even poor Vicky has been made a pariah by this family?’

‘I’m so sorry, dear.’

‘I should hope you jolly well are!’ Madeline snapped, so angry her eyes were flashing in a way that they hadn’t done once since she’d returned home. ‘For the first time, I feel heartily glad that I’ve come back! It’s time it stopped, Louise,’ she stated grimly. ‘And you can tell Daddy that I’m going to see to it that it does!’

‘You can tell him that yourself, Madeline,’ Louise drily declined the offer as she came gracefully to her feet. ‘The subject has been made taboo between your father and me ever since we fell out over it for a whole month! I don’t ever intend to put myself through that kind of purgatory again.’ She shuddered at the mere memory of it. ‘No,’ she reached up to pat Madeline’s shoulder, ‘any sorting of this problem will have to come from you, darling, since you’re the one who is at the root of it.’

And Dominic, Madeline added crossly to herself as Louise left her to seethe alone. How could he have allowed things to deteriorate into this state? And how darned petty!

She needed to talk to Vicky, she decided. And urgently if something wasn’t to be done before Nina’s wedding-day. Grimly, she picked up the phone and dialled the Stanton home number, crossing her fingers that she would catch Vicky before she left for the day.

She did just. ‘I’ve changed my mind about today,’ she told her friend. ‘What time do you usually have lunch?’

* * *

Loath though she was to admit it, it was with great reluctance that Madeline rode the Stanton Bank lift to the executive floor later that morning.

On the face of it, meeting Vicky at her place of work had seemed logical since it was Madeline who was flexible with her time and Vicky restricted by what might require attention on her desk. But even with the assurance that both Vicky’s father and Dominic were to be out of the building all day today, she was still finding it difficult to be here, in the enemy camp so to speak, she thought with feudal dryness.

Still. At least she knew she looked good. Her taupe jacquard suit was elegant, and reacted well with the deep purple accessories she’d teamed with it. Her hair was plaited in a single thick braid down her back, and her newly acquired self-awareness—forced on her by her mother—helped her maintain an air of cool self-possession—even if it didn’t go more than skin-deep.

Four years ago she wouldn’t have given a second thought to how others might see her. She had used to wear what she enjoyed wearing rather than what was considered appropriate for the occasion—but then, she mused rather heavily, she had used to laugh infectiously when she thought something funny, cry real tears at the drop of a hat! The old Madeline had flitted her way through life on a restless ever-changing spirit. This new one tempered every move and gesture to suit the status quo.

Her composure was now inscrutable, her sophistication an indisputable fact. She walked, talked, behaved as the daughter of a prominent man of the City should do. She never revealed ruffled nerves, wouldn’t dream of putting on a show of temperament like the old Madeline had used to do often—and to her ruin, she reminded herself. Her dress sense was superb, her personal grooming impeccable, and her manner serene. And if those closest to her were surprised to the point of dismay in the change in her, they had to agree, surely, that this new Madeline was far more acceptable than the old one?

That wretched girl who had run away four years ago was now back, and determined to make a point. She had begun with her family, and intended continuing by facing the people who had hurt her the most. The Stantons mainly, bar Vicky, and really only one Stanton in particular who was going to be made to eat those bitter words he’d thrown at her four years ago—even if he had set her off balance slightly with their unexpected meeting last night.