Unexpected Blessings

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.

His face matched his body. He had a solid torso – broad chest, wide shoulders above slender hips. About five feet eleven, he gave the impression of greater height and strength because of his powerful build. From the moment she had met him she had been aware of his potency and masculinity. No other man had ever affected her the way he did.

Now he was standing in front of her, the smile still lingering on his mouth. He pulled her into his arms and held her close to his body; the towel and her clothes fell from her hands onto the floor in a heap, and her arms went around his shoulders. And as he bent his head towards her his mouth found hers. He kissed her deeply, passionately, and she felt his erection against her thigh, and for a moment she thought she would succumb, become an all-too-willing partner in his bed for a second time that day. And she clung to him, dissolving.

But then the brainwashing of years kicked in and she remembered the Harte rules and she knew she had to go to Pennistone Royal. Whatever her physical desires and needs were, no matter how much she wanted this man, her upbringing overrode everything else. A Harte was in trouble, and every other Harte must stand alongside, to defend their rights.

When they finally stopped their kisses, India gently pushed Dusty away, her hands resting on his chest. For a moment he resisted, and then quite suddenly he stepped back with an abrupt movement, looked into her face, his own questioning.

‘You know the rules,’ she murmured. ‘I told you about them ages ago.’

‘A Harte always goes to the aid of a Harte in trouble!’ he exclaimed. ‘You don’t have to embellish. I got it then, I get it now.’

‘Please don’t be angry.’

‘I’m not,’ he snapped, turning away, walking over to the window, where he stood looking out, his stance rigid, his face a mask of discontent.

Without another word she collected her clothes, went into the bathroom, tidied herself up, slipped into her bra and panties, pulled a black linen dress over her head, then slid her feet into high-heeled, black leather mules.

When she returned to the bedroom he was still standing at the window looking out, but he had quickly dressed, was wearing his jeans and a white t-shirt.

At the sound of her heels clicking on the parquet floor he swung to face her. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, and for once he looked shame-faced.

India walked over to him, touched his cheek gently. ‘I want to stay, to be with you, you know that, and you also know how I feel about you. This sense of duty to the family is something I can’t help.’ She shrugged and finished, ‘I suppose it’s just … ingrained in me.’

He caught her hand in his, brought it to his mouth, kissed it. ‘I know. And I’m a belligerent sod at times.’ He laughed his deep-throated laugh. ‘Most of the time, wouldn’t you say? Okay, I’ll let you go.’ He led her towards the door. ‘On one condition.’

She caught the lightness in his tone, saw the sudden mischievous laughter in those amazing eyes. ‘I agree to any condition,’ she said, ‘as long as it’s a condition involving you.’

‘You’ll regret saying that when you know what it is.’ He hurried her out of the bedroom and down the grand staircase.

‘Will I really?’ she asked, her expression suddenly flirtatious. ‘So, tell me what it is, then.’