Paradise Found (18 page)

‘You didn't know her? Not even her . . . her name?'

‘I didn't have a name; I didn't know where she lived. I've asked myself since, had I known, would I have overruled Matt and got in touch with her? In my ignorance it was easier to go along with Matt's wish that I didn't. Not that I agreed with him. I like things out in the open, and I told him as much. Recently I've wondered if I was right to let it rest there. I ought to have been more persistent. I might have talked him into letting me contact the girl, have a word with her, get a feeling for the situation for myself. What if Matt was wrong in his estimation of her? That's the question I've found myself asking over and over again just lately. Men, women too for that matter, can be, peculiarly blind to the truth when they're in love!'

Zoe was too busy with her own thoughts to perceive the shrewd way Hannah was looking at her. ‘When . . . when did all this happen? How long ago was Matt's accident?'

‘Let me see . . . Time goes so quickly when you're getting older, but it must be getting on
for
. . .' Her brow farrowed in deep concentration. ‘Yes, it must be all of five years ago.'

‘Thank you for telling me, Hannah.'

She knew that she had piqued Hannah's curiosity, just as hers had been aroused when Hannah first spoke to her about the girl in Matt's past, but it couldn't be helped.

‘Thank you,' she repeated, rising abruptly, needing to be alone to think things out.

When Hannah had first mentioned it, why hadn't she probed? In being sensitive to Hannah's feelings, honoring her reluctance to speak of a matter that was private to Matt, she felt that valuable time had been wasted.

Up in her room, she paced the floor restlessly. Five years ago! She was the girl, the girl whom Matt had been certain would turn her back on him in his misfortune. Miss Fortune. That damned name. It had been a bitter joke between them. He had asked her if it would have made any difference to the way she felt about him if he'd had nothing. She had replied truthfully that it would. He had taken it that she just wanted him for his money. He had thought she was like his brother-in-law and his nephew—Nerissa, too, for that matter—out for what she could get. The picture that Zoe had now was that even if they had bled him white, they still wouldn't have been satisfied. Edward Talbot was dead, of course, so that only left Nerissa and Tony to be
bitter
and vindictive, jealous of Matt instead of being glad for him and proud to be associated with him. They wanted the high life but didn't want to make the effort of earning it. They wanted it to be provided for them, and Matt thought she was the same. Her glib reply that he wouldn't have had the same fascination for her if he hadn't been so successful had convinced him that he was right. With relatives like his, no wonder he was suspicious and took the jaundiced viewpoint. She had meant that he wouldn't have been the same Matt without his ambition and intelligence and commanding personality. It was the things that would get him to the top and keep him there that had attracted her, not the rewards!

But he hadn't understood. Oh, Matt, those wretched years . . . The thought of him lying hurt in hospital and her not being there with him tore at her heart. She cried for the hopelessness of it all.

She dried her eyes. It wasn't hopeless at all. She had to end her engagement to Tony. Her feelings for him had never been strong enough. He hadn't been able to stamp Matt out of her heart. There wasn't a man alive who could do that. And then she had to go back home and seek Matt out. And they had to talk. Perhaps nothing would come of it, but they had to talk.

Camille and her grandfather, André Dupont, were coming to dinner. The tangle of
her
own personal life would have to be put away for the time being. She had to get ready, then put on a bright smile, and do nothing to cast a shadow on the evening's festivities.

She used extra makeup to counteract the natural sparkle that was missing and managed to get back downstairs minutes prior to the arrival of the guests. Hannah liked the courtesy of everyone being there for the greeting.

Camille was looking especially beautiful. There was something about her, a glow that didn't come from makeup but was born from within. Yet at the same time there was something about her that undermined that look of well-being. She had forsaken her favorite red and wore a dress of sharp citrus yellow which showed off her luscious curves to perfection.

Zoe turned her eyes to Camille's grandfather. Rich, distinguished, and handsome, André Dupont doted on Camille and would obviously tear the earth apart to grant her smallest whim. Some would say ‘lucky Camille,' but Zoe wasn't so sure. The most precious things in life had to be given freely. They become valueless when bought for hard cash.

Would Hannah and Monsieur Dupont ever make a match? she wondered. She had known Hannah for a short time, yet she felt deeply a part of her life. It was odd to think that in
ending
her engagement to Tony, if things didn't work out between her and Matt, she would become nothing to Hannah and might never see her again. It was an unhappy, chilling thought. She dared not pin her hopes on making a future with Matt. In explaining what had happened five years ago, Hannah had said he'd lost the girl he loved. But had Matt said that in so many words, or had Hannah romanticized Matt's feelings and made that assumption herself? Matt had never told her that he loved her. He wanted her in a physical way, he had never made any bones about that, but love was another matter entirely.

‘What a very deep look.'

Zoe turned to André Dupont, who had made the remark, and was sitting next to her at the table. ‘I'm sorry, Monsieur. I was miles away.'

‘Really? I should have thought only inches,' he said, referring to the fact that Tony was sitting on her other side. ‘Being in love is not the simple state the popular ballads lead us to believe. It can be a complex and traumatic business.'

It was an observation that followed her own life too closely and invited Zoe's sharp intake of breath, but then it occurred to her that Monsieur Dupont was talking to her in an abstract fashion and that his eyes were on his granddaughter.

His
concentration directed her own gaze there. She saw the smile die on Camille's lips and noticed the glazed look in the girl's eyes before her lashes fluttered down, and then Camille folded like a rag doll and with boneless grace slid to the floor.

Zoe had never seen anyone faint so beautifully. At first no one seemed to realize what had happened, and then everyone moved of one accord. Tony was hampered by his crutches, but between them Zoe and André Dupont managed to transfer Camille to the sofa. She came round almost immediately, looking bewildered and obviously wondering what all the commotion was about.

‘You fainted,' Hannah explained gently.

‘What a silly thing to do!' Camille still looked confused, despite the laugh that came to her lips.

‘Perhaps I should take you home,' André Dupont said with some perplexity, not seeming to know what would be best.

‘But, grandpapa, why? I'm all right now,' Camille protested.

‘I've never known you to faint before,' he said, his eyes appealing to Hannah for guidance.

‘There's a first time for everything,' Camille replied nonchalantly. ‘Honestly, grandpapa, I feel wonderful, so don't fuss.'

‘Young girls do have these peculiar turns, André. I wouldn't attach too much importance
to
the matter, if I were you,' Hannah comforted.

André's gaze rested on Camille, who now seemed quite recovered; her color was back to normal, and she was preening herself in a manner that suggested she was enjoying the attention. His anxiety lifted. ‘Yes, I suppose you are right. It would be a pity to curtail such a very pleasant evening.'

‘Good.' Hannah's tone was brisk. ‘Let's return to the table.'

The incident was forgotten and not referred to again until the guests' departure.

After depositing goodbye kisses on both of Hannah's cheeks, Camille said, ‘Thank you for a perfect meal and a lovely time.' Then she added apologetically, ‘I'm sorry to have caused that little stir during dinner.'

‘You must not give it another thought,
mon enfant.
These things happen. You might telephone me tomorrow to set my mind at rest that all is well with you.'

‘I'll do better than that. I'll come round, if I may, and then you can see for yourself.'

‘You are always welcome here, you know that.'

As André Dupont took his leave of her, Hannah said, her voice as light as a summer breeze, ‘Just as a precaution, why not let Camille be seen by her doctor?'

‘I am sure it is nothing, but perhaps that is not such a bad idea.' There was no alarm in
the
dark eyes that dipped over the hand. Hannah offered for his parting kiss.

* * *

Why it came as a surprise, Zoe would never know. All the clues were there, and yet, as Hannah replaced the telephone receiver the next day, Zoe had no idea of what was coming.

‘That was André,' Hannah explained. ‘The doctor has just examined Camille. It seems, after all, that André will get his long desired liaison with our family, if not in quite the way he had wished. I don't know how to tell you this, Zoe. I'm very, very sorry, my dear. But Camille is pregnant.'

Camille pregnant. Liaison between the two families. Just who, exactly, was Hannah saying the father was?

‘I must telephone Matt,' Hannah said, turning back to the telephone, lifting the receiver, dialing. ‘He'll get here on the first available flight.'

CHAPTER TEN

Camille having Matt's child? But Camille was only nineteen, Zoe told herself. Still, what did that have to do with it? Anyway, Zoe had only been nineteen when it had almost happened
between
them. She wished it had. She wished fiercely that they had made love and a child had resulted . . . Matt's child. She felt sick and miserable and jealous of the new life stirring in Camille. If anyone was to have Matt's baby, it should have been she.

‘I'm even sorrier than I thought,' she heard Hannah say as though from a long way away. ‘I honestly didn't think you cared all that much.'

‘Not care?' She faced Hannah, eyes blazing. ‘I love him. I've never loved anyone else, and I never will, as long as I live.'

‘Oh, my dear. If I'm surprised, it's because you haven't shown it. Sometimes you've appeared quite cool toward him.'

‘It's had to be that way,' Zoe said wearily.

‘Tony won't be able to marry you now, you do realize that, of course. The right thing must be done.'

She would do the right thing. She couldn't admit to loving another man and go ahead and marry Tony. ‘I'll release him from our engagement, of course.'

‘The marriage will have to be arranged as quickly as possible, and quietly. But not too quietly, because that would defeat the object by arousing gossip. Camille has no sisters of her own to take precedence. I don't know how you feel about this, but on the phone André hinted that it might be a kindness on your part to be Camille's chief bridesmaid. It would go a long way to stop the tongues wagging.'

‘No,
Hannah. I couldn't! That's asking too much of me.'

‘Perhaps when you've thought about it . . . Hannah entreated.

‘No!' Bitter tears filled Zoe's eyes. ‘Why should I? I can't forgive what Matt and Tony have done to me. Between them they've just about destroyed me. Neither of them really cared about me. They used me to settle a difference.'

‘I'm deeply disappointed in you, Zoe,' Hannah chided frostily. ‘Which is something I never thought I'd hear myself say to you. That remark is beneath your intelligence and an insult to my son. It might be true of Tony, but not of Matt. Matt does not use people.'

‘You're right, Hannah. That was unworthy of me and I take it back. Matt doesn't use people.'

‘I knew some drama was being played out among the three of you, but I couldn't make a lot of sense of it. Still can't, for that matter. You and Matt seemed to know one another too well to have met only recently through Tony. I kept getting strong signals that you'd known each other before. You could even be the girl he lost five years ago. You are, aren't you?'

‘Yes. I wouldn't have thrown him over because he couldn't give me the good times. I would have stuck by him, no matter what. I thought he'd walked out on me. I didn't know
he'd
been involved in an accident until you. told me. You've got to believe that.'

‘I do believe it.' A small sigh escaped Hannah's lips. ‘It's Matt you should be telling, not me. Although if you meant what you said earlier, and much as I would like to I can't doubt your sincerity, I don't suppose there would be much point. I must be losing my grip, because I could have sworn that you and . . . well, never mind.'

What was the matter with Hannah? Wasn't she thinking straight? Of course there would be no point now.

The other thing Hannah had said was right about Matt not using people. When he had taken her in his arms it had been because he wanted to and not to score off Tony. But he had also made love to Camille, and Camille was carrying his child and so he had an obligation to marry her. She could understand any man finding Camille irresistible, she was luscious and inviting, but why hadn't Matt resisted?

Zoe had known from the beginning that Camille had lost her innocence, and she was pretty certain that Matt hadn't been the one to take it away from her in the first place. When she was nineteen, he had known by instinct that she had never been with a man, and some rigid moral code had stopped him at the last moment. Oh, Matt, why? The odd thing was, she didn't know if she was asking herself why
Matt
hadn't made love to her then or why he'd had to go with Camille now.