Unexpected Blessings

  Silently, she mouthed, ‘Linnet. We need Linnet.’

  Desmond nodded, looked across at Tessa, waiting.

  Despite her fragile appearance and her delicate beauty, Tessa Fairley Longden had a great deal of inner strength and an enormous amount of resilience. As she often said, she was not Emma Harte’s great-granddaughter for nothing; there was a certain toughness about her and she had a fair amount of determination.

  Pulling herself together finally, she opened her eyes and sat up a little straighter in the chair. ‘Thanks for the tea, Emsie,’ she murmured and took a long swallow of the brew. After a moment’s thought, she glanced at the wall clock, continued, ‘It’s almost eleven here. Six o’clock in the morning in New York. No use phoning Mummy and Shane–’

  Emsie cut in somewhat peremptorily: ‘They’ll still be asleep. What about talking to your solicitor?’

  ‘No, no!’ Tessa exclaimed, and gave Emsie a hard stare. ‘You know very well what the family rules are. We deal with everything ourselves, for as long as possible, and with the help of the other clans if necessary. But no outsiders can be involved. Unless we have no other choice.’

  ‘You ought to call Linnet immediately,’ Desmond suggested, glancing quickly at Emsie, hoping Tessa wouldn’t bite his head off. The strained relationship between his sisters often presented problems. Both wanted to run Harte’s one day. But Linnet was the smartest in the family, other than his parents; he believed she was the best person to take charge in the absence of their mother and father.

  Surprisingly, Tessa was not upset by his suggestion. Jumping up, she hurried over to the phone on the counter. ‘I think I’d better do that, Desmond. Right away.’

  Tessa was aware that Linnet had planned to come up to Pennistone Royal either today or tomorrow, and so instead of ringing Harte’s in London she dialled her sister on her mobile; Linnet was probably on the road already, driving to Yorkshire. It was answered almost at once with a crisp, ‘Linnet O’Neill.’

  ‘It’s Tessa. I’ve got a problem here.’

  ‘At the Harrogate store?’ Linnet sounded surprised.

  ‘No. At home. At Pennistone Royal.’

  ‘A problem there! What’s happened?’

  ‘It’s Adele. She’s vanished. I can’t find her, and I’m frantic. I think it could be Mark’s doing.’ Tessa’s voice trembled and she swallowed hard.

  ‘If you think it’s Mark then it is,’ Linnet exclaimed. ‘Stay calm, I’m about an hour away. Don’t call the police yet. We can deal with this ourselves.’

  ‘I know the rules. Listen, Desmond thinks it could be a genuine kidnapping. For a ransom.’

  ‘Oh my God! Let’s hope not. Tell me exactly what happened.’

  Tessa did as her sister asked.

  When Tessa finished, Linnet said, ‘The phone calls were to distract you. It’s Mark who’s behind this, I’m absolutely positive. You’re right about that. Still, I’m glad Wiggs is searching the grounds. She could have strayed away from the house, but she couldn’t have gone far. Who’s there with you?’

  ‘Just Desmond and Emsie. It’s Elvira’s day off, and Margaret went out shopping. And Joe’s gone to East Witton.’

  ‘Desmond’s pretty reliable and responsible. So is Emsie. I’m glad they’re there. Where’s Evan?’

  ‘I don’t know. I saw her drive off several hours ago.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll soon return. Now, stay there by the phone and if Mark calls tell him to bring Adele back immediately. Be firm with him but civil. Try not to have a row.’

  ‘What if he wants to bargain with me? What if he wants something?’

  ‘Promise him anything. Just get that child back in your arms. Mark can be dealt with later.’

  ‘All right. But what if it’s not Mark? What if it really is a kidnapping, and they call, making demands?’

  ‘Listen to them. Agree to their demands, but explain it’s going to take you a while to get money together. Because I’m sure they’ll be asking for money…that’s what most kidnappings are about.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Tessa?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Nothing’s going to happen to Adele.’

  ‘But–’

  ‘I promise,’ Linnet cut in. ‘Don’t go into the grounds. You must be there to answer the phone. See you soon.’ With that she clicked off her mobile.

  As soon as she saw a lay-by Linnet O’Neill pulled over and parked. She sat for a moment thinking about her sister’s phone call and Adele’s disappearance. She was filled with dismay, and extremely angry. I always knew that bastard wouldn’t go quietly, she thought, her mind zeroing in on Mark Longden. She had never liked him, had always believed him to be avaricious, ambitious, self-promoting. Years ago she had characterized him as a gold-digger who was after Tessa’s money, not to mention her prestige as a Harte; she had never quite understood why such a beautiful and clever young woman as her sister had married him. And he wasn’t a very good architect in her opinion, whatever others thought.

  Their mother had told her recently that Mark Longden had physically and mentally abused Tessa, and much to her astonishment she had discovered she hadn’t been in the least bit surprised. She had always been aware that underneath his smarmy, phoney charm he was a nasty piece of work.

  Linnet sat thinking about Adele’s sudden disappearance, and she realized she did not believe for one moment that the child had been kidnapped by strangers for ransom. She felt, deep within herself, that it was Mark Longden who had snatched his own child. Her gut instinct told her that it was a form of blackmail. He wanted something from the Hartes, and he was using his little daughter as a bargaining tool. The bastard, she muttered again, and cursed him under her breath.

  ‘“Everybody has a price and it isn’t always money,” that’s what Emma used to say to me,’ her mother had once told her, and Linnet had never forgotten those words. They were absolutely true. When it came right down to it, everybody had some kind of vulnerability, something they wanted to protect at any price, and very often money never came into play at all. There were other currencies for dealing.

  From remarks her mother had made recently, Linnet knew that Mark Longden was not only drinking very heavily these days, but was also on drugs. It had troubled her then; it was certainly more worrying now. A man under the influence could easily become irresponsible, even erratic, and quite possibly violent–and therefore dangerous. She was fairly certain that Mark wouldn’t intentionally hurt his only child. But what if something went wrong with him, or others, and in the process Adele got hurt, albeit inadvertently?

  It suddenly struck Linnet that thoughts of a similar nature must have occurred to Tessa. Never before had she heard her sister sound so vulnerable, nervous, and at such a loss about what to do than she had a few minutes ago. It seemed to her that the child’s abduction, because that was what it was, had rendered Tessa helpless.

  Normally Tessa was a take-charge person who wanted to be top dog, so that she could run everything and boss everyone around. And very often, because of Tessa’s ambition to be their mother’s heir-apparent, the Dauphine as she called herself, Tessa and she had locked horns. But there was a family rule that went all the way back to Emma Harte and her brothers, and it had never been broken. No matter what the circumstances, a Harte was always loyal to a Harte. They had been brought up to stand strong and steady together in a fight, to defend each other against the world. To kill for each other, to take the bullet for each other, if necessary. Linnet knew all the Harte rules by heart and lived by them.

  The child was Tessa’s vulnerable spot; Linnet was well aware of her sister’s deep and unwavering love for her child. The entire family loved Adele. The three-year-old girl was like a Botticelli angel, with her silver-gilt hair, silvery-grey eyes, and her exquisite little face. Beautiful and endearing, with genuine sweetness, she had touched them all in different ways. Linnet thought of Adele as one of those rare golden children, unique, almost spiritual. God fo
rbid anything happened to her.

  How to solve this dilemma? What to do? Linnet asked herself. And where to begin? Start driving for one thing, she decided, rousing herself from her myriad thoughts, releasing the brake and slowly pulling out onto the motorway.

  Linnet knew she had to handle this. The very fact that Tessa had turned to her made her truly understand that her sister accepted that she herself was far too emotional to cope with the situation. I’ve got to deal with it fast, Linnet thought. Very fast. Today. It can’t be allowed to drag on. I’ve got to find Mark. Find that child. Immediately. Before anything goes wrong.

  There really was only her. Her parents were in New York with Aunt Emily and Uncle Winston, which meant the four senior and most powerful members of the Harte family were out of action for the moment.

  Gideon Harte? She thought of her cousin, her best friend, for a moment. He could be extremely helpful. He ran the Harte newspapers, was brilliant and street-wise, and he had every kind of resource at his disposal. Owning and running an international newspaper chain spelled one thing. Power. Immense power. Yes, she might have to pull Gideon into this, but right now what she really needed was an expert. A genuine professional. A policeman who wasn’t actually a policeman.

  Jack Figg.

  The name leapt into her mind at once. Harte’s security adviser, he was considered a member of the family. She had known him since childhood, thought of him as a pal. And so the moment she saw another lay-by ahead, Linnet pulled in and parked. Reaching for her hold-all, she groped around in it for her address book, and quickly found his name.

  A few seconds later she was dialling Jack’s mobile number.

  ‘Figg here,’ he answered almost at once.

  ‘It’s Linnet, Jack.’

  ‘Hello, Beauty. What do you need?’

  ‘You, Jack. Please.’

  ‘I’m yours,’ he laughed, ‘anytime you want me.’

  ‘Remember what you said at Shane’s birthday party in June–that I could count on you in an emergency?’

  ‘I do. And you can.’

  ‘Thanks, Jack. There’s an emergency.’

  ‘Tell me everything I need to know.’

  She did so, and gave him her own thoughts about what had happened.

  ‘The phone calls were meant to distract her, keep her busy. Where are you now, Linnet?’

  ‘Parked in a lay-by, about an hour away from Pennistone Royal. Are you in Robin Hood’s Bay?’

  ‘No, Pm outside York Minster with a friend. If I leave York now I’ll probably arrive at the house the same time as you. I’ll meet you there. But please tell Tessa you’ve asked me to help. Just in case I arrive before you.’

  ‘I will. And thanks, Jack.’

  ‘Anything for you, Beauty.’

  He was gone, and she was back on the motorway, picking up speed as she gunned the car forward, streaking along the empty road. There was hardly any traffic at the moment, and that was something in her favour at least.

  Linnet concentrated on driving for the next twenty minutes or so, and then, slowing down, she phoned Tessa at Pennistone Royal. Her sister said there was nothing new, and no sign of Adele. Wiggs and his search party were still looking. Linnet told her about Jack Figg, and his imminent arrival, and fortunately met no resistance from Tessa.

  A few seconds later she punched in Evan’s mobile number, but it was turned off. No doubt Evan was with Uncle Robin, whom she had been wanting to talk to for several weeks. Linnet thought suddenly of her cousin India Standish. India had gone up to Leeds from London very early that morning, to start working on plans for revamping the store. Linnet was close to her cousin. In fact everyone in the family loved India. She had an understanding heart, was kind, with a loving nature. Many thought she was delicate, even frail, but her elegant aristocratic looks inherited from the Fairleys belied her character.

  Linnet knew she was practical, down to earth, strong physically, and that, like their great-grandmother Emma Harte, she was absolutely fearless. India worked with her in the fashion department of Harte’s in London, and they had been close friends since childhood. India had grown up on her father’s estate Clonloughlin in Ireland, but she had spent every summer at Pennistone Royal. And Linnet loved to boast of some of India’s brave deeds as a child…like the time she rushed out into the backyard at Pennistone Royal wearing huge oven gloves in order to separate two dogs fighting over the dead body of a rabbit. Or the day Linnet’s little sister Emsie had climbed into the big oak and got stuck in the upper branches. Undeterred by Linnet’s warning that they would both fall out of the tree, India had climbed up it, had sat with Emsie, stopped her wailing and held her tightly until Linnet had come back with Joe, the estate-manager, carrying a tall orchard ladder.

  Yes, Linnet decided, India would be helpful in this situation, and she got on well with the sometimes difficult Tessa.

  India would be staying at Pennistone Royal for the next few days, as she usually did. I’d better warn her about the situation there, Linnet thought, tell her what’s happened, before she goes over there later. She dialled her cousin, and waited patiently as the mobile rang and rang.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘That’s your phone ringing, not mine,’ Russell ‘Dusty’ Rhodes said, looking across at India, who stood next to the window.

  She frowned, glancing around the bedroom, exclaiming, ‘Heavens, where’s my bag?’

  ‘Over there, on the chair. Under your dress.’

  ‘Oh gosh, yes, you’re right.’ As she spoke she ran to the chair, clutching the towel around her body; with her other hand she grabbed the bag, groped inside for the ringing mobile phone, turned it on, held it to her ear. ‘Hello?’

  ‘India?’

  ‘Hi Linnet.’

  ‘Where are you? At the Leeds store already?’ ‘No. I stopped in for a few minutes, then went to…lunch.’

  Dusty grinned at her from the other side of the room and began to laugh.

  She glared at him and silently mouthed, ‘Be quiet.’

  Linnet said, ‘India, there’s a problem. Adele’s disappeared. Several hours ago, and Tessa’s frantic.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Alarm registered in India’s eyes and she sat down heavily in the chair, concentrating on the phone call.

  ‘She could be lost in the grounds, might have just wandered off,’ Linnet went on, ‘but somehow I doubt that. Personally, I think Mark Longden snatched her, and so does Tessa.’

  ‘Yes, I agree. But surely he wouldn’t hurt her–’

  ‘True,’ Linnet interrupted, ‘but things sometimes do go wrong, so we’ve got to find her before anything untoward does happen. I’ve brought Jack Figg in to help, and there’s a search party looking for her at Pennistone Royal. I should be there myself in half an hour.’

  ‘Perhaps I’d better come too.’

  ‘You might as well finish lunch, India. There’s not a lot you can do except be there for Tessa. Obviously, she’s very upset.’

  ‘I can well imagine.’ There was a slight hesitation on India’s part, and then she asked worriedly, ‘You don’t think Jonathan Ainsley has anything to do with this, do you?’

  ‘I sincerely hope not, but if he does it really changes the picture.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. But what do you–’

  ‘Let’s not go there, India. At least not yet. I’ll see you later.’

  ‘I’ll leave shortly.’ India clicked off the phone and put it back in her bag. Her face was paler than ever, her eyes anxious.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Dusty asked, sitting up straighter in the bed, looking at her alertly. ‘You sounded frightened. No, not frightened, you’re not frightened of anything, are you? Concerned is possibly a better word. Or alarmed.’

  India stared back at him, nodding. ‘I am a bit alarmed, yes. Adele, Tessa’s little girl, has vanished and Linnet says it could be Mark Longden’s doing.’

  ‘That’s bad. What do you think?’

  ‘I tend to agree. Mark’s not very
nice, and it’s more than likely he took her.’

  ‘She’s not lost somewhere on that vast estate perhaps?’

  ‘It’s possible, I suppose. But I think she would’ve been found by now. She’s still a toddler. How far could she get? Linnet says it’s several hours since she went missing, and there’s a search party out.’

  ‘Why would he take her? Stupid question, Rhodes,’ he answered himself, shaking his head. ‘As a weapon in the divorce…he’s using her against your cousin, using her in order to manipulate Tessa.’ He ran a hand through his black wavy hair and a look of contempt crossed his face. ‘People. What shits they are, how they disgust me. He’s a real bastard if he’s using his child in that way.’

  India sighed, stood up, reached for her clothes.

  ‘You can be there in less than an hour, so come back to bed.’ Dusty’s voice was lower, suddenly tender, and he smiled at her seductively. She noticed yet again how white his teeth were against the tan of his face. ‘Come back to bed with me, let’s do it all again,’ he insisted.

  India shook her head. ‘I do think I have to go, Dusty,’ she answered, but regret registered on her face.

  He could not fail to miss that expression, knew at once that she wanted to stay. He saw the desire in her eyes, the look of yearning. He threw back the sheets and got out of bed, walked towards her purposefully, still smiling that beguiling smile of his.

  India thought his blue eyes looked suddenly dangerous, almost predatory. Her stomach lurched and she felt weak; he always managed to make her feel this way at some point or other when they were together…shaking inside…swooning…trembling. She was always his willing partner in anything he wanted to do with her…sexually aroused by a mere glance from him, the touch of his hand.

  As he drew close she thought how impossibly good-looking he was, almost absurdly handsome. It was as if a sculptor had spent endless hours shaping most of his face: straight, patrician nose, broad forehead, high cheekbones, perfectly rounded chin. And elegantly arched brows above those dazzlingly-blue eyes that became soulful with passion, could turn icy cold in anger. He did not have one of those pretty-boy, matinée-idol faces; it was ruggedly handsome, with sharp angles and planes, as if the sculptor had suddenly wanted to finish quickly and had become slapdash.