Dirty Aristocrat (22 page)

Tawny Greystoke

“Love doesn’t just sit there like a stone, it has to be made, like bread.”

                                
-  Ursula Le Guin,
The Lathe of Heaven
.

I
woke up because I heard a sound. I turned my head and saw that the pillow beside me was empty. Pushing hair out of my face I sat up and looked around. There was no light coming from under the en-suite bathroom door and the bedroom door was closed. How strange.

I got out of bed, walked in my bare feet to the door, and opened it. I could see the light in Ivan’s study was on and I could hear his voice. It was quite loud. He must be on the phone with someone. I walked towards the sound.

Something made me hold back in the corridor.

‘No, she doesn’t know and I want to keep it that way. For this plan to work she must be kept totally in the dark.’

There was a silence, then he was speaking again.

‘Absolutely. More than a hundred million is at stake. You have to come up with a foolproof plan to eliminate her. A way that cannot be traced back to anybody. Especially not me.’

Of their own volition my hands flew up and covered my gaping mouth as if to stop myself from screaming, but it was not me that was screaming it was my very soul. I just stood there in the dark frozen with shock and horror.

There was another pause and then his voice came back, urgent and hopeful.

‘Are you sure?’

Another long pause while the person on the other end probably explained something. Then came Ivan’s voice, ghoulishly excited.

‘Yes, yes, that might work. Run it by them and see if they are happy to go ahead with it. The sooner the better. I can’t stand this waiting anymore. I need to know it is done.’

‘Right. I got to go, but thanks for all your help.’

Very quietly, I tip-toed back to the bedroom and got under the covers. I was trembling. I knew without a doubt that he was talking about me. Who was he talking to? He must be in cohorts with my stepchildren. There could be no other explanation. What was it he wanted me to be kept in the dark about? Was the foolproof plan to eliminate me? Was this my worst fear? Was Ivan plotting to kill me and share my money with my stepchildren?

It seemed impossible. He didn’t need my money. He was a billionaire. It made less sense than a bull with tits, but no other explanation would fit.

There was a sound in the corridor.

I turned on my side, closed my eyes, made my breathing deep and slow and pretended to sleep.

Ivan came in, got into bed, kissed my forehead and lay beside me. After a few seconds his hand came to rest lightly on my hip.

‘Mmm,’ I said sleepily and curled further into myself.

His hand slipped away. For a long time he did not sleep. Finally, his breathing became deep and even. I turned over and watched him. He looked peaceful and prettier than a Tennessee Bluetick Coonhound. I felt confused and scared. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Nothing was as it seemed. Even now how I longed to reach out and stroke his thick, silky hair, but I did not. I simply watched him in wonder until dawn lit the sky.

How did it come about that unnoticed I had slipped into my enemy’s bed.

Very carefully, with my eyes fixed on Ivan’s sleeping face, I inched out of bed. Once out I stood looking down at him. I was still shell-shocked. It was incredible how completely he had fooled me.

With cat-like quiet, I lifted my tracksuit and running shoes out of the wardrobe and dressed quickly in the living room. Without making any noise I let myself out of the apartment. While I ran I tried to think. I really, really did. For a whole hour I tried, but my mind wouldn’t function properly. I kept wanting desperately to believe that I had made a mistake. There was no motive. He didn’t need my money.

He had a private plane for God’s sake.

Besides, I trusted Robert and he told me again and again that Ivan was the  only one I could trust. Another voice in my head said, Robert constructed a will that left me open to Ivan’s total control. If he had not made me Ivan’s ward I would never be here and married to Ivan.

By the time I returned I was no less bewildered or shocked. Ivan was already out of the shower.

‘Good run?’ he asked, and for the first time I saw him without my rose tinted glasses. He was hiding something big. He had been for a long time, but I was so caught up with him not finding out my secrets. I never took the time to examine the things that didn’t sit right about him. It was always there, in the background and almost undetectable, but there all the same. Even now I saw it. The only time it was not there was when we were in bed having sex.

‘Yes, thank you.’ I even managed a smile. ‘Want some coffee and some toast?’

‘Yes, please.’

I nodded and went to the kitchen. I was arranging the slices of toast in the toast rack when he appeared, knotting his tie in the doorway.

‘I’ve got to run. Something’s come up,’ he said.

‘No breakfast?’

‘I’ll just take that coffee.’

I carried the mug and held it out to him.

He took a sip. ‘What will you do today?’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know yet. I might go into work.’

‘Good. So I’ll see you tonight. Maybe we can go out to dinner or something.’

‘Yes. That’ll be nice,’ I said. I knew my voice sounded wooden, but I couldn’t help myself. I never was good at pretending. What you see is what you get with me.

He took another sip and put the coffee mug down. ‘Right. I’m off.’

After a quick, hard peck on my lips he was gone. I touched my lips. God! I
still
wanted him. What was wrong with me? What an awful mess I was in.

I took the mug and poured the remaining coffee into the sink. Almost on autopilot I opened the dishwasher and placed it inside. Still on autopilot I crossed the living room and went towards his study. I opened the door and stood for moment at the threshold.

There was hardly anything on his table, just a few papers. I approached it and glanced at them. A report about some Chinese town, a development of some kind. I went around the desk, sat on his chair and opened the drawers. The first one had odds and ends. The second had files. The middle drawer had stationery.

The first drawer on the left-hand side made me pause. It was locked. I knew where the key was. I’d seen where he hid it. I ran out into the hallway and checked a small decorative bowl. It was at the bottom. I took the key and ran back to open the drawer.

There was a crumpled letter in it. I put it on the desk and straightened it out. It was a letter from the bank. I stared at it in disbelief. It cannot be. It just cannot be. I blinked and re-read it. 

Jesus Christ.

The bank was recalling one of their loans for twenty million pounds. There were other letters too. Some had been torn open and other remained unopened but they all carried the same return address. With shaking hands I slipped out the ones that had been opened. They were just more letters warning that his accounts were going to be closed, warnings about bankruptcy proceedings, and warnings of late payments.

Sick to my stomach I sat back on the swivel chair.

He was broke. It was all a lie. The black American Express. The brand new Lamborghini. The champagne worth thousands of pounds. The boast that he was a billionaire. Everything. Everything was a lie. My breath came out in short, sharp gasps. I never expected this. Never. Not in a million years. What a lying bastard.

Oh God!

Oh my God!

I never did sign that pre-nup agreement. My heart was racing.
Wow, Tawny!

I closed my eyes.
Calm down. Calm down
. Carefully I thought about everything that had happened. He had taken me away from Barrington Manor, where I found security for the first time in years, and brought me here. Married me in a rush as if he was doing me a favor. I had been so naïve and stupid, so blinded by lust I had even forgotten to ask for the prenup.

I frowned.

What about Foxgrove? That still belonged to him. Perhaps, he had mortgaged that as well. And his mother. She seemed so sincere. It was obvious she didn’t know the state of Ivan’s finances either.

What was he planning? Who had he been talking to last night? I needed to see my solicitor and I needed to get out of this house. My head was throbbing. He betrayed me! I couldn’t believe how completely he had fooled me.

I put all the letters back into their envelopes and placed them exactly where I found them. I scrunched up the first letter into a ball and put it back on the top of the pile. I closed the drawer, locked it, and made sure the file on the table was back in its original position. Then I walked out of the room, closed the door and returned the key to the bottom of the bowl.

I needed time. I needed a strategy. My heart was broken and I was badly, very badly wounded by this new development, but I was not beaten. I survived being a hungry, homeless orphan, hiding from the authorities. I could survive this too.

I took a shower and tried to think. I needed one day, just one day, to get myself together. I got out of the shower, called my solicitor, and made an appointment for the next day. Then I deleted traces of the call from my phone.

I couldn’t possibly go to work today, but I had to get out of this house. I put on my coat, took my handbag, and left the apartment. As I was closing the door, Ralph appeared in his doorway. He was about to go out.

With a cold stare he closed his door and went back into his apartment.

Whatever, Ralph. And everybody thought I was the gold digger!

I took a taxi to Harrods where I wandered around listlessly. I had no plan. I needed a plan, but my mind was blank. I felt so depressed and numb. I could not believe that Ivan could betray me for money. All he had to do was tell me the truth. I would have given him the money. Robert would turn in his grave to know he had been so spectacularly wrong about Ivan.

Ivan was as bad as the rest of them.

All I wanted to do was run away and hide for just a little while. Until it didn’t hurt so much, but there was nowhere to run or hide. I had to stay and face the music. I was married to a psychopath who could have incredible sex with me all night, then plot with my stepchildren to have me eliminated. I turned a corner, still in a daze, and bumped into someone.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, my voice dying in my throat when I saw who it was.

My old butler, James.

‘Oh, Mrs. Maxwell! Well, it’s Lady Greystoke now, isn’t it?’ he said with a happy smile. ‘I can’t believe it. You look very well. How are you these days?’ He seemed so happy to see me that I felt myself go red with embarrassment. I had asked him to stay on, but then Ivan had fired him, yet he seemed to bear me no ill will.

As I stood there I understood Ivan’s game. James had been loyal to Robert and me, so Ivan removed him from the picture. As a strategy it was brilliant. He removed my entire support system. The butler that Robert had trusted for twenty years, the housekeeper, my home, my horses. Everything had been taken away from me.

I suddenly felt like crying.

‘Oh Mrs. Maxwell, I mean, Lady Greystoke, what’s the matter? You look so pale. Are you all right?’