All That Lies Broken (Ashmore's Folly Book 2) (28 page)

Richard’s voice cut across Julie’s words firmly. “That’s enough. I’m not going to discuss my personal life with you.”

Laura took a deep breath, knocked, and pushed the door open.

Julie sat on the side of her bed, her face in her hands; Richard stood nearby, his hand on her shoulder, and the instant quelling look he gave Laura chilled her to the bone. In this room, between father and daughter, she was manifestly unwelcome. She was no part of this family.

Julie, lifting her eyes, glared at her aunt as if she bore personal responsibility for her father’s intransigence.

He was furious with her, she saw; he thought she was intruding. She shut down her immediate desire to defend herself; she had no time for personal feelings right now. “Richard – sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt—”

“This is not a good time, Laura.” His voice was hard.

She soldiered on. “I know – it’s just—” She tried to signal him with her eyes. “Lucy sent me to find you. She needs you downstairs.” His eyes flared. She took a breath. “Can I talk to you privately?”

“What is it?” he asked irritably, but he was crossing the room to her. She breathed in relief.

Behind him, Julie watched them with curiously dry eyes.

When he came close enough, she pitched her voice low. “Di’s here, outside. Lucy said—”

“What? My mother’s here?” Julie jumped up. “Great! I’ll bet
she’ll
sign my permission slip!”

Richard swore, something he probably never did in front of his daughter. “What the hell – she’s not supposed—”

He looked behind Laura’s shoulder, and stilled.

A merry voice caroled behind her. “I’m not supposed to
what
, dearest?”

And Diana pushed between them and stepped into the room.

She stood before her husband, smiling, chin lifted, eyes sparkling, color flooding her cheeks. She was flying high from her success down on the terrace, triumphant in her return as his wife, and she possessed all the magnificence of a woman in full-blown beauty.

She was stunning.

They stood there, Prince Charming and his princess, lovers who had loved beyond all thought, enemies who hated beyond all hope, and between Richard and Diana Ashmore crackled the current of a still-powerful sexual electricity.

His attention was focused all on his wife, his face cold and still, but watching her, always watching her. A total stranger would have seen the invisible bonds that stretched, even now, between husband and wife.

Laura watched bleakly and knew that Richard had forgotten that she was even there.

Diana knew as well as Laura did how to manage an audience; she knew exactly how long to hold the silence, to make sure that everyone saw only her. She waited two beats beyond that, and then she looked around slowly. “Am I interrupting something? What’s going on?”

Julie found her voice. “He won’t let me – here, will you sign this for me, I want to go—”

Laura had a sudden fierce desire to spank her niece.

“Certainly,” Diana said. “Where’s a pen?”

Julie went diving for her desk. Richard said, “You aren’t authorized to sign anything. What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing?” Diana wandered across the room. “Julie, I like this peach moiré, it’s new, isn’t it?” She tossed her purse down on the bed and sat down gracefully, completely at ease in her estranged husband’s house, her scarcely-known daughter’s bedroom. “So what’s going on? Where do you want to go, honey?” She aimed a million-wattage smile at her husband, and Laura sensed that he shook with rage beneath the surface. “What am I doing here?” she repeated. “Why, I’m here to attend the party. You need a hostess, don’t you?”

“Get out.” Richard crossed the room to her. “Right now, come on, you’re leaving—”

He started to put out his hand – Laura thought maybe to haul Diana up – and behind her, her voice firm, Lucy said, “Don’t touch her, Richard. Don’t give her any ammunition.”

His hand dropped.

Lucy drew in a breath; Laura saw her fighting for control of the situation. Lucy must feel the volatility in the room, the explosion simmering beneath the surface; her face looked pale and set and unusually tough. This must be what her adversaries saw across a negotiating table. As usual, she was rushing in to take charge, stressing herself and her baby. Laura started to reach out in support, and then it hit her: Lucy wasn’t here to make peace. She wasn’t here as Diana’s sister.

She was here as Richard’s lawyer.

Lucy said, “Tom’s on his way. He was in the back field.”

Richard never shifted his eyes from Diana, who had picked up a magazine and was languidly fanning herself. “I want her out of here. First thing tomorrow, get a restraining order.”

“A restraining order?” said Diana. “That’s rather unfriendly, isn’t it? You must not want my cooperation in this divorce.”

Julie sat beside her mother. “Here’s the slip, Mom, sign right there. It’s a lock-in at the church tonight. He,” she lifted venomous eyes to her father, “won’t let me go. He doesn’t
trust
me.”

Mom?

Richard had crossed to Lucy and was bending his head to her; Laura couldn’t hear what she was whispering, but she caught the urgency in Lucy’s voice. Diana said, “Doesn’t trust you? Oh, come on, Richard, you don’t trust her about what? To keep herself pure as the driven snow? Like you were so virtuous when
you
were sixteen.”

Julie’s voice was shrill. “He thinks I’m going to—”

“I know what he thinks you’re going to do.” Diana scrawled a signature on the permission slip. “Same thing we were doing at that age. Just be careful, okay? You don’t want to run the risks we ran in high school.”

Lucy gave Diana a startled look.

Richard said, without a trace of emotion, “Shut up, Diana.”

Laura caught her breath; she had never heard him say anything so deliberately rude.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Diana drawled. “Don’t want to own up? You were no virgin when you were sixteen, and you sure saw to it I wasn’t either. If memory serves me right, the Standing Stone of Ireland got a pretty regular workout.”

Lucy choked off a sound suspiciously like a giggle. A picture flashed through Laura’s mind of a location Dell had scouted for a possible music video – the standing stone at Tara in County Meath, the Lia Fáil, a thrusting stone against the round verdant hills.
Skyscrapers don’t occur in nature.
But, oh, yes, they did, they certainly did, and she saw a dull flush hitting his cheekbones under his tan.

Some small mercies were left in the world. Julie looked bewildered.

“I’m betting it’s not exactly lying down on the job these days, either,” Diana continued merrily. “You know, talking to people out there—”

“Diana—”

“—rumor’s going around you have a new lady friend—”

“Diana, for the love of God,
shut up
.”

The words echoed in the room. Diana started to say something, thought better of it, and shut up.

Richard drew in a deep breath. “Laura, Lucy, please take Julie outside for a few minutes. Diana and I need to talk privately.”

Laura opened her mouth to assent, but Lucy said, “Sorry, Richard, I’m not leaving until Tom gets here. Laurie,” and Lucy looked hard at her, her eyes pushing the message home, “go with Julie, okay? And, if you see Tom, tell him to get in here quick.”

“Go with your aunt, Julie,” Richard said.

Julie flared, “I’m not going anywhere! I’m not a little kid, you can’t treat me like—”

“Go.” Richard’s voice brooked no disobedience. “Now. Not another word.”

And, then, surprisingly, Diana’s voice, “Go on, Julie. You shouldn’t hear this.”

Julie looked from her mother to her father, tossed her head to make sure they both saw how livid she was, and stalked out the door. Lucy gave Laura a slight shake of the head, rolled her eyes, and gestured for her to leave.

The door shut firmly behind her as she left.

Click
. And the two youngsters, Laura thought bitterly, were exiled in the hall so the adults could talk in private.

Julie was still shooting off sparks. “He’s so mean, he still thinks I’m five years old, all I was doing was—”

Laura cut through her words. “Shut up, Julie.” If it was good enough for Richard, it was good enough for her. The French doors opened below, and salvation in the form of her other brother-in-law walked in the room and glanced around. She leaned over the balustrade and called softly, “Tom.”

He glanced up, nodded, and took the stairs two at a time.

“Where?” he said, and Laura motioned at Julie’s door.

“Thanks,” Tom said, and it was the lawyer talking, not the genial brother-in-law who had teased her about her operative numbers. “You two better go downstairs where it’s safe.”

He opened the door. Raised voices – Lucy’s and Diana’s, not Richard’s – fell silent as he vanished inside.

Laura looked at her niece and made a decision. “Come on, Julie. I want to talk to you.”

She had had enough. Her dreams lay in pieces, she was at a hopeless disadvantage against Diana, and somehow Lucy knew. In twenty days, she had shattered her family more thoroughly than she could have ever imagined the day she and Francie had vanished into the ether. She had to leave him, she no longer had a choice; to stay might devastate them both. But she could do one thing for him, and for her hurting, damaged niece. She could straighten Julie out.

“I’m not—” Julie started, and then fell silent when Laura wheeled on her.

She followed Laura down the back stairs to the kitchen. The caterers were all outside; they had the room to themselves. Laura pointed at the long oak table, said, “Sit,” and went to get herself some water.

Her throat was parched. The cool water did little to help; she couldn’t have sung a note at that moment if her life had depended on it.

She let the silence work for her. She waited to speak until she sat down opposite her niece, who had defiance written in every line of her posture. Miss Julia Ashmore was mighty hacked off, and she wanted the whole world to know.

Miss Julia was a spoiled brat, and it was high time someone took her down several pegs.

It might as well be the aunt who had very little left to lose.

“You,” said Laura, “are the rudest child I’ve ever met.”

Julie’s head jerked up.

“It is,” Laura continued evenly, “a time-honored tradition for children – and I use that word deliberately – to play one parent off against the other. Meg did it when her father was alive, Lucy did it with your grandparents. The only reason I didn’t, and your mother didn’t, is that our mother was dead.” She took a sip of water. “I’m not holding that against you. You did what any
child
would do.”

Storm warnings were flying high in Julie’s eyes. “You have no right—”

“I have every right,” Laura said. “I’m an adult in this family. You are a child. And, damn it, you will listen to me, and you will not interrupt, do you hear?”

Meg always had sense enough to stop fighting when she heard those tones. Julie, to her credit, said nothing. She was still breathing furiously, but, after a couple of seconds, Laura saw her starting to back down. Her shoulders lost some of their tension; she didn’t look ready to spring across the table.

“So he’s ruined your life. Every parent ruins their kid’s life. You’ll live.”

“But he—”

Laura held up her hand. “Quiet.”

Julie’s mouth shut fast.

“This divorce is very difficult for them, Julie. Your father has sacrificed long and hard for you, he has denied himself a normal family life, to make sure their problems don’t affect you.” She fixed a hard look at the girl. “You think he couldn’t have gotten a divorce before this? He chose not to, he chose to live a very lonely life, because he wanted to make sure you never got dragged into their problems. He waited until now, when you’re almost an adult, when you ought to have the brains to know how stupid it was to do what you just did upstairs. You did nothing to make things easier for them. All you did was set them off against each other and give them one more thing to fight about. That was stupid – and thoughtless – and I am very disappointed in you.”

Julie flushed, with anger or embarrassment, Laura couldn’t tell. She stared straight ahead, her mouth held completely still, but she was swallowing hard, and her eyes had a sheen to them.

“By the way,” said Laura, “I’ll take this,” and she plucked the permission slip from Julie’s hand. “Do you know what an awkward position you put your mother in? Legally, she can’t sign that for you. She’s not your guardian. If something happened to you, your father could sue because you wouldn’t have permission to be there. You set her up. You set your father up. You,” she said deliberately, “are not the perfect daughter you take such pains to make everyone believe you are.”

“I hate you,” Julie said, and her mouth trembled.