Knight to the Rescue
Miranda Lee

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

AUDREY stood on the pavement outside the coffee-lounge, frowning as she glanced up and down the street. Russell was late. As usual.

She took a deep steadying breath and let it out slowly, willing herself to stay calm, not to become agitated.

You won’t have to worry about his being late again after today, she told herself sternly. Russell will no longer be a part of your personal life.

But nothing could stop the pain deep down in her heart. Or the self-accusations.

Why did I get mixed up with such an obvious womaniser in the first place? she agonised. Why did I believe all his protestations of love? And why, oh, why did I let him talk me into going to bed with him?

Audrey suspected why as soon as she saw him striding down the street towards her, looking elegantly suave in a grey business suit. Russell had all the seductive trappings of a romantic charmer with his blond good looks and bedroom blue eyes, not forgetting his smooth line of patter which made him an excellent salesman.

When he’d started work with Modern Office Supplies as a representative a few months ago he’d been quite a hit with the office girls, yet within days he’d singled her out for his attentions.

Initially, she had been sceptical. After all, there were many more attractive girls at work. But he’d been so persistent, so seemingly sincere. And of course she’d been hopelessly flattered. What a naïve fool she’d been!

Audrey flicked an unhappy sideways glance at herself in the window glass next to her, almost flinching away from her reflection. She’d only had to take a good look in the mirror to realise that Russell couldn’t have fallen in love so quickly with a girl as plain as herself.

Lord, how she hated her looks! Her white, white skin, her big doe-like brown eyes, her bow-shaped little girl mouth. As for her hair... It had always been a disaster. She had been born with fine mousy brown locks, but it was at present a burgundy shade, and permed into a bush of tight curls. Lavinia said it suited her. Audrey wasn’t so sure. Neither did she feel comfortable wearing the red woollen dress her stepmother had given her, insisting red was one of her colours. No colour seemed to be her colour!

With a shudder, she returned her attention to Russell, who had put a wide apologetic smile on his face at his last stride.

‘Sorry I’m late, darling,’ he said silkily, and bent to give her a kiss on the cheek.

Audrey’s whole insides twisted with dismay. How happy she had been the first time he’d called her that! Now, the word was like a dagger in her heart, a dagger dipped in treachery.

‘Oh-oh.’ Russell tried laughing on seeing her tight pale face. ‘Methinks I’ve done something to put myself in your bad books. Is that why you asked me to meet you here for coffee this afternoon, to rap my knuckles over something? Or is the hang-dog face just because I’m a wee bit late?’ he added, a caustic edge creeping into his voice.

How strange, Audrey thought. All of a sudden I don’t find him that handsome, or charming. ‘Half an hour late, Russell,’ she said coldly, ‘is hardly a wee bit. I asked you to meet me at three. It’s now nearly three-thirty.’

His shrug was dismissive, his smile trying in vain to melt the ice that was gathering around her heart. ‘Yes, but I’m worth waiting for, aren’t I?’

Audrey cringed. Had there been a time she’d actually liked lines like that? She could hardly believe herself capable of being such a mug. But she supposed unattractive girls were very vulnerable when it came to attentions from members of the opposite sex. Desperation, she decided bitterly.

‘Do you think we could go inside and sit down?’ she said sharply.

‘Sure. I’ll order us both cappuccino on the way in.’

The coffee-lounge was typical of a thousand others one would find in main streets in suburban Sydney—a long thin rectangle with booths along one side and a shiny counter stretching along the other. Audrey had thought that at this time on a Friday afternoon it would be practically empty and would give them some privacy. But this wasn’t the case, with nearly every booth occupied. Only the back two were empty.

Audrey headed for the furthest, aware that her nervous tension was increasing with each second. The time for confrontation had finally come.

The second last booth was occupied after all, by a man bent over a newspaper. He glanced up briefly as she passed, but didn’t take a second look.

Audrey sat down in the last booth with a weary sigh, then watched unhappily while Russell flirted with the girl behind the counter. The girl’s eyes followed him hungrily when he turned and swaggered towards the back booth, a cocky grin on his face. More wool fell from Audrey’s eyes. Was that how he got his kicks out of life? Making as many female conquests as he could? What number had she been? Ten? Twenty? A hundred?

He slid into the green vinyl seat opposite and shot her an expectant look. ‘Well? Are you going to satisfy my curiosity and tell me what’s up?’

‘Yes,’ she said stiffly, and dragged in a rasping breath. Her heart started hammering away in her chest, and when the words came out they were high-pitched and shaking. ‘Diane told me today you took her out last Saturday night—the night you said you had a business dinner. She also said that you...you slept with her.’

Russell’s instant scowl wiped every shred of good looks from his face. His top lip curled nastily and his eyes took on a narrowed, mean expression. ‘So this is why I’m here! To answer a whole lot of stupid bloody accusations. I would have thought you’d have more sense than to listen to a silly bitch like Diane!’

‘She wasn’t lying,’ Audrey said brokenly, upset by this further glimpse of the real Russell. He’d never used coarse words in front of her before. He’d always played the role of gentleman.

‘Of course she was,’ he sneered. ‘She’s jealous of you. If you had any brains you’d know that by now.’

Audrey sucked in a hurt breath at this further insult. But her pain only fired her with more resolution to be done with this man, once and for all. ‘She had the motel receipt for last Saturday night,’ she stated shakily but with determination. ‘It’s signed by you, and I...I know your signature.’

There was a short sharp silence, followed by an irritable sigh from Russell. ‘Audrey...’ he began in an impatient tone.

She lifted her chin and tried to still her quavering voice. ‘There’s no point in lying to me, Russell. We’re finished, anyway.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I...I do. I believe Diane and I’ll keep on believing her no matter what you say.’

‘Is that so?’ he muttered nastily. ‘Well, in that case you might as well know. I did screw her. So what?’

Audrey could not contain the gasp of shock at this newly crude and callous Russell. Or the dismay that she’d actually allowed him to...to...

‘You said you loved me,’ she said in a dazed wretched voice. ‘Wanted to marry me...’

‘Yes, well, of course I did,’ Russell retorted caustically. ‘You’re the big boss’s daughter, aren’t you? His only daughter. His only child, in fact. Do I have to spell it out any further?’

A groaning, whimpering sound escaped Audrey’s lips before she could snatch it back. God, why hadn’t she thought of that herself? There she’d been, assuming he was just a compulsive womaniser...

‘You didn’t mean any of it?’ she said in a strangled tone. ‘It was all just...for my money?’

His laugh was cruel. ‘What’s the problem, honey? Did you really think I was bowled over by your beauty and sex appeal? Oh, you’re not that bad-looking once you take off those ghastly clothes you wear. But God, you’ve got no idea how to please a man in bed. Audrey, dear, you’re a bore! I was doing you a big favour even taking you out, let alone giving you a bit, but I suppose you won’t see it that way. I suppose you’re going to run home and tell darling Daddy that one of his big bad reps seduced his prissy little virginal daughter.’

Revulsion had crept over her skin as she listened to the ugly words spew forth. ‘Don’t worry,’ she choked out, and shuddered. ‘I won’t tell Father.’ God, she did have some pride left. Not much. But enough to cling to and stop herself from falling into the despair she could feel hovering at the edges of her mind.

‘Just as bloody well, because if you do and I get the sack I’ll make sure every man in the company and the whole of damned Sydney knows just what a vicious, vindictive bitch you are. And don’t go telling people in the office you broke up with me, sweetheart. Not that they’d believe it. Hell, I can have any bird I want. I just felt sorry for you, that’s all, thought I’d bring you out of your shell a little. You should be grateful for small mercies instead of...’

Russell raved on, but Audrey’s mind was blocked to his cruel and arrogant blusterings. She was thinking bleakly about what happened to girls like herself, girls who were unutterable failures where men and sex were concerned, but who had the lure of money. Girls like her own mother...

She closed her eyes against the agony of truth that blasted into her brain. But along with the agony came fury at a fate which would perversely make a girl wealthy but plain, a girl who more than anything else wanted a family of her own to love and cherish, who had dreamt of it for such a long long time.

Her fingers tightened around her handbag and she was about to sweep sideways out of the booth when someone moved abruptly into her path.

Startled, she glanced up a long long way to encounter a man of about thirty looming over her, an apologetic smile on his extremely attractive mouth. Dazzling white teeth gleamed in a deeply tanned face, intelligent grey eyes flashing beneath thick wavy hair as black as night.

But if she’d been startled by this man’s sudden and very striking appearance, she was more than startled by the words he spoke.

‘Audrey, honey,’ he said in a rich male voice, ‘I just couldn’t wait outside in the car any longer. I know you said you’d handle things but it didn’t feel right to me.’

As he spoke, those expressive grey eyes easily held her own astonished ones, an underlying steeliness compelling her to keep looking at him and say nothing to reveal that he was a perfect stranger to her.

Or was he?

There was something vaguely familiar about him, yet she couldn’t place him. She frowned her confusion. Who on earth was he? How did he know her name? And why was he saying such extraordinary things?

Once he’d finished speaking directly to her, he released her eyes, swinging his gaze over to Russell, who was sitting there with his mouth gaping open in a most unattractive fashion.

‘It’s Russell, isn’t it?’ the stranger went on blithely, shocking Audrey further with his knowledge of Russell’s name. Her lips parted on a gasp, bringing a hard darting glance from the stranger which had them snapping shut again.

‘Sorry about this, old chap,’ came more of his amazing speech, ‘but these things happen. Audrey and I only met last Saturday night but it was love at first sight for both of us. I never believed in such romantic rubbish before, but I’ve had to revise my ideas on the subject, haven’t I, Audrey, my sweet?’

Audrey, my sweet, was now so stunned she just sat there in numbed silence, doe eyes wide, bow-shaped lips pressed tightly shut to stop herself from totally resembling a flapping flounder.

Russell was similarly stunned, but not into silence. ‘Audrey! Who is this man?’ he demanded to know. ‘God, don’t tell me you’ve been seeing someone behind my back!’ His eyes narrowed furiously. ‘Why, you little hypocrite, I’ll—’

‘Audrey, you naughty girl,’ the man cut in in a firm but drily amused voice, ‘you haven’t told him yet, have you?’ His shrug was one of eloquent elegance, drawing Audrey’s eyes to his unconventional but dashing clothes. Loosely fitting black trousers teamed with a black crew-necked jumper, tucked in, a fawn leather belt emphasising his trim hipline.

‘Now isn’t that just like her, Russell?’ he was saying. ‘She does so hate hurting anyone. Look, perhaps you and I should step outside while you say what you have to say. We both know how sensitive Audrey is and perhaps it’s best we have this out man-to-man.’

Russell jumped to his feet, all fluster and bluster. Next to the stranger, he looked puny, which surprised Audrey since Russell was five feet eleven inches tall with quite a good build. But the man next to him must have been at least six-three or -four, his broad-shouldered, stronger frame dwarfing Russell’s shorter, lighter body.

‘There’s no need for that.’ Russell was clearly unhappy with his odds in a fight. ‘I get the picture. Anyway, you’re welcome to her. All the money in the world isn’t worth having to scr—’

The stranger’s left hand shot out and closed over Russell’s left wrist, drawing Audrey’s gaze to the long, strong fingers. Russell winced visibly as they closed tightly.

‘I wouldn’t say another word if I were you,’ their owner warned in a quiet voice that was even more threatening than the loudest roar. ‘I also suggest you take yourself far away from here very quickly, before I forget I’m a gentleman in the presence of a lady.’

Russell began to open his mouth, thought better of it, then snapped it shut. Giving Audrey a savage glance, he extricated himself from the booth and stormed out.

The stranger watched him go, a hard though satisfied smile pulling at his mouth.

‘Who...who are you?’ Audrey blurted out, relieved to at last be able to voice her inner turmoil and confusion. Only satisfaction at seeing Russell so rattled had kept her silent.

His smile softened as he slid into the U-shaped booth opposite her. ‘A friend.’

She leant back against the green leather seat and stared at him. Had they met before? Could he be some business acquaintance of her father’s? No, no, she dismissed immediately. She would never have forgotten this man. ‘I don’t know you,’ she stated firmly, though there was a slight tremor in her voice.

‘Ah, yes. Perfectly true.’ He frowned and stroked his chin for a few seconds, before his face cleared to an expression of dry amusement. ‘Would you believe it if I said I was your guardian angel come to life to save you from a dastardly villain?’

‘You...don’t look at all like an angel,’ she said, smiling at the thought that, dressed all in black, her rescuer looked more like a visitor from the opposite region.

His answering smile was devastatingly attractive and Audrey’s stomach actually fluttered. ‘What about a knight rescuing a fair damsel in distress?’ he suggested, then chuckled.

‘Why is that so funny?’ she asked ingenuously before the penny dropped. Her smile faded immediately. ‘Oh, I see...it’s because I’m hardly a fair damsel...’

‘Good God, Audrey,’ he sighed, clearly exasperated with her. ‘That’s not it at all! It was because my name is Knight. Elliot Knight. Why wouldn’t you qualify as a fair damsel? Hell, you have the most exquisite fair skin, the loveliest big brown eyes and an extremely kissable mouth.’

A startled shock sent her fingers fluttering up to cover her mouth. What did this man want from her, to make him use blatant flattery? Her confusion became total, and it brought bewilderment and panic. ‘I...I don’t know who or what you are, or how you came to know my name and everything, but I...I think I should be getting back to work!’ Audrey picked up her bag and went to stand up.

‘Don’t be such a silly little fool!’ he snapped, his harsh words making her slump back down on the seat, staring at him with wounded eyes.

His sigh was weary. ‘I’m sorry...I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But damn it all, why go back to that office to a sniggering Diane? It’s nearly four on a Friday afternoon. You’re the boss’s daughter. Give it a miss for the rest of the day. By Monday, your and Russell’s break-up will be last week’s news. Come back to my place for a drink and a sit by the fire, then later I’ll drive you home. Come on, what do you say?’

She blinked over at him. ‘How do you know all those things about me? About Russell? And Diane?’

Quite a few emotions flickered through those fine grey eyes. Frustration. Irritation. Then finally...a weary resignation.

‘I was sitting in the next booth a while back,’ he confessed with reluctance. ‘I overheard your—er—conversation with your boyfriend. He infuriated me so much I decided to teach him a lesson.’

So that was why he’d seemed familiar! Audrey was almost relieved to find a logical explanation for the man’s extraordinary knowledge. But then she realised all he had overheard, and an embarrassed heat flooded her cheeks. ‘Oh, God,’ she cried, and shook her head in shame.

‘You didn’t do anything to be ashamed of, Audrey,’ he said softly. ‘Clearly, you were in love with the man and thought he loved you back. The blame is all his, not yours.’

‘Perhaps,’ she murmured, thinking that such naïveté in a girl who would be twenty-one next week was inexcusable. Hadn’t she long known she was unattractive to men? Why hadn’t she stopped to wonder why Russell would single her out?

‘You’re well rid of him, Audrey,’ her companion continued in the same gentle tone.

‘I dare say,’ she murmured, ‘but it still hurts.’

‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘I know...’

The essence of real understanding in her rescuer’s voice drew her thoughts away from Russell to consider exactly what Elliot Knight had just done for her. And she was deeply moved. Most men would have silently borne witness to her shame and even sniggered in contempt at her gullibility. But compassion had stirred this stranger to come to her aid. And oh, how gallantly he had done that, routing the enemy without her losing face and even trying to make her feel better with his flattery about her looks.

‘You really are a knight in shining armour, aren’t you?’ she said, a tender light shining in her eyes as she gazed at him.

The compliment clearly rattled him for a moment.

‘But you don’t have to keep on rescuing me, Mr Knight,’ she went on shakily. ‘You’ve already done enough. I’m...very grateful to you.’ She bit her bottom lip when tears suddenly pricked at her eyes.

‘Come on...’ He took her hand and slid out of the booth, pulling her with him. ‘You’re coming home with me for a while and that’s final. I don’t live far.’

‘Oh, but I can’t, Mr Knight. I...I...’

‘Don’t argue with me, Audrey. This is for your own good. And for pity’s sake, call me Elliot! And before you ask, no, I’m not married. Neither do I have a girlfriend who might get the wrong idea. Does that settle all your doubts?’

Audrey might have resisted but in all truth she didn’t want to go back to the office. Neither did she think Elliot had any dark sexual motive for taking her home. Not with her!

It wasn’t till she was led over to the black Saab Cabriolet parked outside that she ground to a halt, wrenching her hand away from Elliot’s solid grasp. ‘This is your car?’ she asked, an instant quavering in her voice.

He frowned first at her, then at the car. ‘Yes? Something wrong with it?’

‘No...no, I suppose not,’ she agreed stiffly, and with grim determination climbed into the sporty car. Nevertheless, an automatic tension took hold of her once the car started round the narrow winding cliff road that led from Newport to Avalon Beach, and Audrey wondered grimly if she’d ever get over this phobia.

She thought she managed to hide it quite well for the short trip, though she felt real relief when Elliot directed the car from the main road up a steep driveway. When he zoomed into an electronically operated garage underneath an impressively large ocean-view home and finally turned off the engine she let out a ragged, long-held breath.

He shot her a curious look and turned to pick up a newspaper that was lying on the back seat. ‘You’re a very nervous passenger.’

‘Yes, I...speed makes me nervous,’ she admitted. ‘Men who own sports cars usually drive fast. You don’t, though. But then...you’re different from most men.’

‘Really?’ He laughed drily. ‘I doubt that, Audrey. I doubt that very much.’ And lanced her with the oddest look before abruptly turning away from her to alight.

Her forehead puckered into a puzzled frown as he guided her up the internal spiral staircase to emerge on the lowest level of the split-level dwelling. What had he meant by that remark, and that look? That he was no better than Russell? That he might consider seducing an heiress, even if she wasn’t all that attractive?

Even though she couldn’t believe her shining knight would do such a thing, Audrey’s newly cynical self still went on the alert.

But the sight of the huge living-room with its high raked ceilings and wood-panelled walls reassured her again, as did the furniture and rugs—all valuable antiques. People didn’t rent homes full of such treasures, she decided logically. They owned them.

‘You must be very well off, Elliot,’ she said, relieved eyes sweeping around in a full circle. Goodness, if she wasn’t mistaken that was a Renoir on the wall. And a Gauguin! They didn’t look like prints, either.

‘Very,’ he agreed, striding across the room to throw the newspaper on an ornate Edwardian coffee table. ‘Make yourself at home.’ He waved towards the brown leather studded sofa that faced the fireplace.

‘What exactly do you do?’ she asked as she sat down.

Elliot had moved over to the cold hearth of the marble fireplace when she threw this question at him. He sent her a wry glance over his shoulder then bent to put a firestarter into the dead ashes before arranging some kindling and firewood in a criss-cross pattern. ‘What do I do?’ he drawled as he struck a match. ‘Let’s see, now...’

He stood up and turned to face her, a sardonic smile on his face. ‘Actually I haven’t been doing much at all lately. I went skiing a fortnight back. Yesterday, I read a fairly good book. Tomorrow I’m going to try my hand at betting on the races.’

‘Don’t you work?’

‘Shall we say, I have no need to unless I want to? And I haven’t been wanting to this year.’

‘Goodness,’ she exclaimed, totally intrigued by him now. ‘Were you born rich?’

‘Not at all.’ Elliot proceeded over to his built-in bar. ‘What do you fancy? Gin? Vodka? A glass of white wine?’

‘Oh—er—yes, white wine.’

He turned and extracted a bottle of Riesling from a wall fridge, opening it like a man who’d had a lot of practice. Pouring a glass each, he carried them over to the sofa.

Fascinated, her eyes followed his every move. He was so unconsciously graceful, yet so...masculine.

‘The truth is,’ he said as he handed over her glass and sat down in front of the crackling fire, ‘I was once married to a rich woman.’

Shock sent her wine glass trembling, and wide eyes flashing to his. ‘You mean you married a woman for her money?’

His self-irritation was obvious by the expression on his face. ‘No, of course not. Please don’t think that. I was merely explaining where a lot of my money came from. Moira died, you see. Late last year. Viral pneumonia,’ he finished tersely before she could ask.

Audrey was taken aback that a person could die of pneumonia in the modern-day world of antibiotics. And said so.

‘My wife suffered from multiple sclerosis for some time,’ he elaborated reluctantly, ‘and had developed an aversion to doctors. I was away from home when she came down with what she thought was flu. Friends tell me she refused to call in a doctor. When I arrived home she was very ill. I raced her to hospital but she died within hours.’

‘Oh, how awful for you, Elliot,’ Audrey murmured.

He looked uncomfortable with her sympathy, his fingers tightening around his glass. ‘Yes,’ he said gruffly. ‘Yes, it was.’

For her part, Audrey could not get out of her mind how devastating such a situation must have been. To have one’s wife, or husband, snatched away so...unexpectedly young. But then, sudden death was always devastating. Nothing could ever prepare you for the gaping hole left in one’s life when a loved one was wrenched away abruptly.

Audrey knew she was going to cry if she kept thinking on that subject. With an enormous strength of will, she pulled herself together, straightening her shoulders and taking a steadying breath. Only then did she notice Elliot was watching her very closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. Quite quickly she lifted her drink and took a sip, feeling embarrassed by his intense scrutiny.

‘You...didn’t have any children?’ she asked.

The muscles in his jaw clenched down tightly. ‘No. Moira couldn’t have any. Can we change the subject?’ he demanded brusquely.

‘Yes, yes, of course.’ She felt guilty for having been so insensitive. Clearly he had loved this Moira very much. And was missing her terribly. Audrey fell awkwardly silent.

‘Tell me about Russell,’ he said at last.

A shudder went through her. ‘Do I have to?’

‘I think it might be a good idea,’ he stated matter-of-factly. ‘Perhaps I can give you a different perspective on the man, show him up for what he is. Someone not worthy of any heartache.’

‘Believe me, I can see that already.’

‘What about your father?’

She frowned. ‘My father?’

‘Did he know you were going out with this Russell fellow?’

Her chest tightened. ‘Yes.’

‘And he approved?’

She shrugged in an effort to ease her instant inner tension. ‘He seemed pleased a man was taking some interest in me at last. My father is one of those men who thinks women are nothing if not married. He considers me prime spinster material,’ she finished with a bitter laugh.

‘That’s rubbish on all counts! Women don’t have to marry early these days. Or at all, for that matter. Either way, you’re only a spring chicken.’

‘I’m twenty-one next week.’

His laughter was dry. ‘Positively ancient.’

‘It is if you look the way I do. Lavinia always says that with money even the plainest girls can look good when they’re young, but after a certain age it’s downhill all the way.’

Audrey was startled by the look of sheer fury that flashed into his eyes.

‘And who,’ he ground out, ‘is Lavinia?’

‘My stepmother.’

‘Your stepmother...’ One of his dark brows lifted in a sardonic fashion. ‘And your stepmother told you you were plain?’

Audrey saw what he was thinking now. That Lavinia was the hackneyed wicked witch of a stepmother. ‘No, no, Lavinia wouldn’t be that cruel. She’s very nice to me. She tries awfully hard to help me with my hair and my clothes. But I’m a lost cause. Nothing seems to suit me.’

All the while she was talking, Audrey could see Elliot was not convinced.

‘And how old is this stepmother of yours?’ he probed, eyes unreadable as they flicked over her. ‘The one who helps you with your hair and clothes.’

‘She’s in her late thirties. But she looks younger. She’s very beautiful, and very confident in herself.’

An envious sigh escaped Audrey’s lips before she could prevent it. But she did so wish sometimes that she could look even half as gorgeous as Lavinia could.

‘I don’t know where you got the idea you weren’t attractive, Audrey,’ Elliot pronounced.

An angry resentment flared within her. ‘Please don’t keep flattering me, Elliot. It’s not necessary. I know what I am and I know what I look like.’

Suddenly there was no stopping the tears that had threatened all afternoon. They came with a rush, flooding her eyes, spilling down over her pale cheeks. Appalled at herself, she tried to choke back the sounds, to smother them by putting her wine glass down and dropping her face into her hands. And she succeeded. But her shoulders still shook uncontrollably, and she had no idea how heart-wrenching the sight of her was, huddled there, crying silent bitter despairing tears.

‘Audrey, don’t,’ Elliot groaned, and, putting his own glass down, gathered her into his arms. Quite automatically, her arms went round his securely solid chest to hug him with a desperate tightness.

When one of his hands lifted to stroke her hair, Audrey’s response took her by surprise. Despite her distress, she thrilled to his touch and when he whispered sweet words of comfort she quivered with secret delight.

‘You are nice-looking, Audrey. I haven’t been flattering you...’

How did it happen, that moment when he tipped her tear-stained face up and bent his mouth to hers? Audrey froze for a second, but his lips were soft, soothing. Instruments of sweetness and sympathy. She sighed into them, her own parting, her arms creeping up to slide around his neck.

It was then that the kiss changed, that Elliot’s mouth abruptly turned hard and demanding, his hands tightening around her. He forced her lips widely apart and his tongue drove deep.

A quiver of shock ran through Audrey’s body and she began to struggle against him, her hands beating at his chest in a wildly flowering panic.

When he finally reefed backwards, her big brown eyes lanced his with shock and confusion.

He shook his head, his face filling with self-disgust. ‘Oh, God...I’m sorry, Audrey. Terribly sorry.’ His shrug was as weary and frustrated as his voice. ‘I got carried away.’

‘But...but why?’ she choked out, staring at him. ‘I mean...’

A black, sardonic grimace twisted his mouth. ‘There’s one more lesson you must learn today about men, Audrey,’ he growled. ‘When it comes to sex they’re basically animals. Sometimes, they want what they want when they want it, and who they’re having it with doesn’t figure largely in their minds. I’ve been celibate now for nearly a year. Judging by what just happened, I think my monastic existence is about to come to an end.

‘But not with you, my dear young girl,’ he added, slicing her with a rueful look. ‘Not with you... Come on. I’m taking you home.’

CHAPTER TWO

MONDAY morning found Audrey in a turmoil. She didn’t want to go to work, didn’t want to face a sniggering Diane or a sulkily hostile Russell, didn’t want to spend the day pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Slumping down on the side of her bed, she buried her face in her hands. But there were no tears left to be spilled. She’d cried herself out last Friday night, cried and cried till she was drained of tears, drained of energy, drained of all emotion.

Saturday she had spent in a deep dark depression, Sunday in an apathetic gloom.

Now, the working week was beginning and her life was going on, whether she wanted it to or not. She had no alternative but to pull herself together and get on with living. But before she could do that she had to face, once and for all, the truth behind what had happened last Friday.

Her head lifted from her hands, a confusing pain squeezing at her heart. Which had hurt her the most? she puzzled. Russell’s betrayal? Or Elliot Knight’s speedy defection?

She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure about anything any more. All she knew was what she had always known—or suspected—about herself. That she was a complete failure where men were concerned. Russell’s only reason for making love to her had been greed, Elliot’s pity. Not that his brief kiss could be termed ‘making love’.

She would never forget his shock at his own behaviour. What on earth was he doing, he’d obviously thought, kissing this silly little nincompoop? And then getting carried away. No doubt he had to have been very frustrated at the time, Audrey decided bitterly. Nothing else could possibly explain a man like him turning uncontrollably passionate with someone like her. Russell had spelt it out. She had about as much sex appeal as a squashed frog!

Russell...

She could hardly bear to think of him, to think of what he had done. Or, more to the point, what she had allowed him to do. She was a fool—a stupid, naïve, plain, insecure little fool!

More desolation was about to sweep in when Elliot’s compliments filtered back to her mind, the ones he’d insisted were sincere. He had said she had lovely skin, nice eyes and a very kissable mouth. Had he been merely flattering her, trying to make her feel better? Or could it be true? Her heart lifted a fraction. Even Russell had said she wasn’t that bad looking.

She stood up and walked hesitantly over to the cheval mirror in the corner, her hand lifting to trace over her face and mouth as she stared into the mirror. In her opinion, her skin always looked too pale, her eyes too big, her mouth too little girlish. But yes...she supposed she wasn’t really ugly. Merely colourless.

Her gaze lifted to her hair and she shuddered. Nothing colourless there.

Russell’s hurtful comment about her clothes being ghastly jumped back into her mind and her eyes dropped to the hot pink suit she was wearing. A frown creased her brow as she accepted that, while it wasn’t exactly ghastly, it certainly didn’t look good. Odd, because Lavinia had a similar suit—in red—and it looked great on her. Audrey knew her figure was not as spectacular as her stepmother’s but it was still quite good. Slender, with enough curves in all the right places.

Her frown deepened in frustration. If only she had some fashion sense of her own, some confidence in her own judgement.

But she didn’t. She never had had. She wished there were someone other than Lavinia whose opinion she could ask, someone mature and objective who would be totally honest with her. It worried Audrey that perhaps Lavinia was saying things looked nice on her simply because she didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

Her mind slid, for the umpteenth time since last Friday evening, to Elliot Knight.

Elliot would tell her how it was. Elliot was honest, to the point of being blunt. Elliot...

He had driven her home in grim silence, depositing her on her doorstep with some very strong parting words.

‘I refuse to apologise again for what happened, Audrey,’ he said sharply. ‘You must take some of the responsibility. You’re a grown woman, and it’s about time you started acting and thinking like one. Firstly, in future don’t go letting any personable stranger talk you into going back to his place as you did with me this afternoon. It’s naïve and dangerous. Secondly, don’t go to bed with any man unless you, yourself, want to go to bed with him. Thirdly, be your own person in every way. Form your own opinions about who you are and where you’re going. You only have one life, Audrey. In the end, you’re the one who has to live with your decisions. Make sure they are yours.’

He had gone to leave her, then added over his shoulder, ‘I won’t be calling you, Audrey. Don’t take this personally. Any continuing friendship with me at this point in time is not in your best interests. Of course, if you’re ever in any real trouble, please don’t hesitate to ring and I’ll help in any way I can.’

Audrey sank down on the end of her bed with a sigh. She had to admit that wanting some advice about fashion hardly constituted real trouble. Not that she would dare ring him anyway. Quite frankly, she wouldn’t have the nerve. Just thinking about Elliot answering in that unswervingly direct voice of his made her quiver. In fact, thinking about Elliot at all was proving unnerving.

Her stomach curled as she recalled how it had felt when he’d kissed her, when his tongue had thrust deep into her mouth. Her heart had leapt madly, and the blood had roared around her head for a few seconds. At the time, she had been stunned by the raw sexual desire that had flared within her. She had never felt anything like it with Russell. Even now, just thinking about it sent her into a spin. She kept wondering what would have happened if her shock hadn’t made her struggle, if Elliot hadn’t stopped.

The thought started her heart racing. Audrey strongly suspected that it was these intense physical reactions Elliot could evoke in her—not so much Russell’s treachery—that had caused her such distress on Friday night. She’d been upset because she had not wanted Elliot to take her home. She had wanted him to take her to bed. There! She had admitted it. In fact, if she didn’t know better she might believe she had fallen out of love with one man and fallen in love with another in a single afternoon! Which was crazy!

Though perhaps not so crazy, Audrey conceded, if she had never been in love with Russell in the first place. Perhaps she’d merely been attracted to his good looks, flattered by his attention, seduced by his lies. Silly little Audrey, craving love, desperate to believe any assertions of affection. She shuddered as she recalled all his lies whenever he’d coaxed her into bed. Clearly he’d been laughing at her the whole time.

And rightly so, she decided wretchedly. She was a gullible young idiot. She was still being an idiot, imagining she was in love with another man now, just because he had aroused her with a passionate kiss.

Audrey shook her head in dismay. Dear me, when was she ever going to grow up and see things as they really were, and not as her romantic heart wanted to see them? Elliot was a handsome, sexy, sophisticated man who had acted gallantly towards her, then stirred her with a kiss at a vulnerable moment. That didn’t mean she was in love with him. Infatuated, perhaps. That was all.

But if she wasn’t in love with Elliot, why did the thought of never seeing him again produce such wrenching feelings inside her? Such black despair?

Audrey jumped to her feet, infuriated with herself. She was sick of feeling down, sick of self-pity, sick of romantic confusions and delusions. You’re young and healthy and not that bad looking, she told herself sternly. You’ll find someone to really love you one day, someone you’ll love back, without doubt, without distress. Now stop moaning and groaning and get down to breakfast!

Her father was already in the sun-room that served as a breakfast-room, devouring his habitual steak and eggs, when she made an appearance. Elsie was standing at his shoulder, refilling his coffee-cup.

‘Good morning,’ Audrey said with determined brightness as she pulled out a chair at the circular table. ‘Just coffee and one slice of toast for me, Elsie.’

‘Righto, lovie.’ Elsie waddled off. Having been a cook all her life, Elsie had sampled a few too many of her own makings. But she was a sweet old dear, without a mean bone in her body. Audrey was very fond of her.

Warwick Farnsworth looked up at his daughter with a reproachful frown on his face. ‘You’re not going to become one of those anorexics, are you, Audrey?’

She glanced across the table at her father and conceded that at fifty he was still a handsome man. Broad-shouldered and fit as a fiddle, he had thick brown hair, elegantly greying at the temples, and sharp blue eyes. For a brief moment, Audrey wished she’d inherited a few of his genes.

But not his lack of tact.

He had no idea how to relate to his daughter as a parent. Most of his conversations with her started with an exasperated-sounding question.

‘I’m not anorexic, Father. I’m five feet four and weigh eight stone two. That’s exactly what I should be.’

Audrey had learnt to answer her father with facts. He was a ‘facts’ man.

‘Hmph!’ he pronounced and picked up his coffee-cup, turning to flip open the morning paper next to him to the business section.

Elsie arrived with the toast and coffee, and Audrey settled down to spreading margarine and jam. Once her father had his nose in the newspaper, all conversation ceased. Which meant she was surprised when he suddenly spoke up again.

‘You do realise, Audrey, that Lavinia is going to a lot of trouble for your birthday on Friday night?’

Audrey tried not to have ungrateful thoughts. Shy in any social situation, she had requested no celebration at all, but Lavinia had insisted on a dinner party with some people from work. Audrey had only given in graciously when Russell had liked the idea.

‘She’s been a good stepmother to you,’ her father went on. ‘Very good. Even in the beginning, when you were hardly welcoming. She never once lost patience with you, despite your uncooperative, sullen disposition at the time.’

Sullen?

Resentment flared within Audrey. Hardly sullen. In pain maybe, from her own injuries from the car accident that had also claimed her mother. Two badly broken legs took a long time to heal. Not to mention her emotional pain of losing a mother she adored. But of course her father wouldn’t understand that. He’d shown how insensitive he was by remarrying within six months of his wife’s death.

With a clarity that had previously eluded her, Audrey finally accepted the rumours she had heard all her life and had blindly denied to herself. That her father had not loved her mother; that he had married her for the company.

She glared over at her father, recognising in him a man similar to Russell, a ruthlessly ambitious and mercenary man who had little love to give. He probably didn’t even really love Lavinia. She was merely a decorative hostess, a beautiful and convenient body to have in bed, a possession, much like the paintings and sculpture he’d started collecting recently.

What annoyed Audrey even more was that, despite finally recognising her father’s failings, she still loved him.

‘Lavinia tells me you’ve cancelled your invitation to Russell for the dinner party,’ he rapped out. ‘Is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

Her heart began thudding. ‘We split up.’

‘Why?’ he insisted on knowing.

She was about to make some feeble excuse when something—some indefinably rebellious surge—made her say, ‘I met someone else.’

Her father’s face showed astonishment. ‘You did? Who?’

Audrey gulped. Now she had done it. ‘You...you don’t know him.’

‘Well, what’s his name? Where did you meet him? What does he do?’

‘I—er—his name is Elliot Knight. He lives at Avalon Beach and he’s a man of independent means.’ She wisely decided not to answer the question about where she’d met him. She didn’t think her father would appreciate her saying Elliot had picked her up in a coffee-lounge.

‘He’s rich, you mean.’

‘Yes, I guess so.’

‘And he’s still interested in you.’

Audrey’s dismay was intense. So her father had known Russell was only interested in her money. And yet he had allowed the liaison to continue, knowing this all the time. Her sense of self-worth began to shrivel again. No man had ever been interested in her for herself alone. The only real emotion she’d managed to inspire in a man was pity. It was pity that had made Elliot come to her rescue, take her home, kiss her. Pity...

She wanted to cry with despair but her father was staring at her and some new strength—born of her recent bitter experience perhaps—kept her chin up, her eyes steady, forced her to say, ‘He’s very interested.’

‘Then why don’t you invite him to your party?’

‘Invite who?’ Lavinia asked as she swanned in in her favourite black satin négligé. Tall and voluptuous, with long wavy black hair flowing out over her shoulders, she was a striking and sensuous figure.

‘Morning, darling.’ She bent to kiss her husband’s forehead before drifting over to pour herself some coffee from the percolator on the sideboard.

Audrey stared after her with undeniable envy. Oh, to be so elegant, so sure of oneself, so darned sexy!

‘Audrey has a new boyfriend,’ her father announced with a mixture of surprise and fatherly pride. ‘She says he’s very interested in her.’

Audrey winced. Now she was well and truly in the soup.

Lavinia whirled to stare disbelievingly at her. ‘Really? Anyone we know?’

‘I’ve already asked that. She says not. A wealthy young playboy from the sound of things.’

‘But how would Audrey meet someone like that?’ Lavinia scoffed. ‘She never mixes in the social set around Sydney. Not that she shouldn’t. She just never bothers with that scene. Are you sure she’s telling the truth about all this? It all seems very odd.’

Audrey detested it when her father and Lavinia started talking around her. Normally, she either stayed unhappily silent or drifted away. But not this morning. ‘Why on earth would I lie, Lavinia?’ she challenged.

‘Why, indeed?’ the woman murmured.

‘I’m only too happy to tell you about Elliot. You only have to ask.’

Lavinia lifted her finely arched dark brows and walked indolently back to sit down with her coffee. ‘Well?’ she prompted. ‘Tell us, then. Where did you meet?’

Audrey swallowed, her newly discovered courage faltering. ‘I—er—I...’

The sardonic light in Lavinia’s black eyes forced Audrey to gather every available resource she owned. ‘We met at a party last Saturday night,’ she said, using Elliot’s own white lie to Russell. ‘Not the one just past. The weekend before.’

‘But you didn’t go out that night,’ Lavinia pointed out.

Audrey’s memory did a frantic data-search. Her father and Lavinia had gone out to a club that night. They hadn’t come home till after midnight and certainly wouldn’t have checked her room to see if she were in. Elsie was the only live-in servant and she always went to bed early.

Despite a pounding heart she managed a passably nonchalant shrug. ‘I wasn’t going to, but after you both went out an old schoolfriend of mine rang out of the blue and asked me to a flat-warming party. I’m certainly glad I went. Elliot’s a fascinating man.’

Lavinia was not about to let up. ‘If this Elliot’s so interested in you, why did he let you spend the whole of this last weekend moping in your room? Why didn’t he take you out?’

Audrey’s stomach was beginning to churn. ‘He went skiing. I...I didn’t want to go. I hate skiing.’

‘Looks like Audrey’s come up trumps at last,’ her father said, undeniably impressed. ‘Are we to hope for an announcement in the near future?’

Audrey blushed. ‘Really, Father. We’ve only just met.’

‘Fair enough. So when will he be back from skiing, this Elliot of yours?’

‘Today,’ she answered with astonishing glibness. There was no doubt lying came easier with practice. ‘Late this afternoon.’

‘Then you’ll be able to ring him tonight,’ Lavinia inserted smoothly, ‘and ask him to your party.’

‘Oh, but I...but surely...’

‘Come now, Audrey!’ Her father’s tone showed exasperation. ‘It’s quite permissable for a girl to ring a boy these days. And after all, it is your coming of age. I’m sure this young man won’t think you’re chasing him, asking him to a twenty-first.’

Audrey groaned silently. Next thing they’d both stand over her while she actually made the call.

‘Of course, if you don’t think this Elliot will come,’ Lavinia drawled.

Audrey stared at her stepmother. Strange, she’d always thought Lavinia liked her. But it was impossible to ignore the malicious gleam in those black eyes, or the smug sarcasm in her voice. It sparked a fierce determination Audrey hadn’t known was in her.

‘He’ll come,’ she bit out. ‘Don’t you worry about that.’

Lavinia’s smugness wavered and Audrey felt an uncustomary thrill of satisfaction. She’d get Elliot to come if it was the last thing she did. She’d beg. She’d bribe. And if all that failed she’d lie her teeth out.

It was amazing how ten hours’ delay could undermine one’s resolve. By the time Audrey reached for her bedside phone early that evening her hand was literally shaking. Snatching it back, she sank down on her quilt and stared once again at the open telephone directory on her pillow, at the circled name.

KNIGHT E H. The only E Knight in the book living in the suburb of Avalon. It had to be him.

Taking another fortifying breath and trying to steady her hand, she reached for and picked up the phone, punching in the numbers with sharp, staccato movements. The nerve-racking brr-brr started on the other end of the line.

Would he be home at six on a Monday night? Audrey thought anxiously as the ringing continued. She had reasoned he should be. It was too early to go out to dinner and late enough to have come home if he’d gone out for the day. It was dark at six in July in Sydney, winter well and truly set in. With each successive ring, her agitation increased. One part of her wanted him to answer. The other hoped he’d gone to Switzerland for the rest of the winter.

On the seventh ring, someone answered.

Audrey held her breath.

A male voice repeated the number she had just rung.

She expelled the held breath in a rush. ‘El...Elliot?’

There was a short sharp silence that sent Audrey’s tension up and off the scale.

‘Audrey? Is that you?’ he questioned with a manner that suggested he was not pleased she had rung.

This was no less than she had expected. ‘Yes, it’s me,’ she said, and fell painfully silent.

‘Well?’ he prodded at last. ‘What can I do for you?’ His tone was cool and she suddenly realised she was about to make a big fool of herself. Yet to fail was unthinkable. She just couldn’t face Lavinia with the news that Elliot wasn’t coming.

‘I...I have this problem.’

‘Yes?’

God, he wasn’t making it easy for her, was he?

More feelings of pre-emptive failure flooded in, totally swamping her. He was going to say no. Why should she humiliate herself by asking in the first place?

Her heart turned over in wild desolation. If only she were beautiful and sexy. If only Elliot wasn’t rich, and needed her money—like Russell. If only there were some way she could make him genuinely want to come.

‘You...you said I could call if I needed help.’

‘Yes?’

‘I...I do.’

‘In what way?’

Audrey took a deep breath. And the plunge. ‘Remember I mentioned I was turning twenty-one soon? Well, it’s this Friday and Lavinia has organised a special dinner party for me that evening here, at home. I was going to bring Russell, you see, and now I don’t have anyone to be my date and I thought that...that... Well, I hoped you might fill in in Russell’s absence.’

She held her breath and waited for his answer.

‘I thought I made it clear, Audrey,’ he ground out, ‘that I’m not in the market for filling in for Russell, in any capacity.’

Audrey was glad Elliot couldn’t see the heat zooming into her cheeks. She wished he hadn’t used quite those words. It sent the most amazingly explicit and arousing images to her mind.

‘Isn’t there anyone else you can invite?’ His tone was frustrated. ‘Someone your own age?’

‘Not really,’ she replied, making a huge effort to get a hold of herself. ‘No one I’d be proud of. And Elliot, I want to be proud of my date, don’t you see? It’s...it’s very important to me.’ Audrey knew this final plea was hitting below the belt. Out of desperation she was deliberating playing on Elliot’s capacity for compassion.

His sigh was one of weary resignation. ‘Yes, I do see. Unfortunately... Very well, Audrey. Give me your address and tell me what time I’m expected. And perhaps your last name might be a good idea. I never did find that out.’

Success brought both triumph and a measure of agitation. He was coming. He was actually coming. Shivers of unbidden excitement ran up and down her spine.

Audrey somehow managed to give him her home address at Newport, her full name of Audrey Henrietta Farnsworth, as well as her phone number—just in case a disaster prevented his coming. But please, lord, no disasters, she prayed!

‘Could you be here soon after seven?’ she requested breathlessly. ‘We’re having drinks before dinner. Oh, and wear a dinner-jacket. It’s formal.’

When he hesitated again, she said worriedly, ‘You do have a dinner-jacket, don’t you?’

There was a smile in his voice when he answered. ‘Yes, Audrey, I have a dinner-jacket.’

‘I thought you might. Considering...’

‘Considering what?’

‘Considering you’re rich and...well...obviously given to socialising.’

‘I haven’t been doing much of that lately,’ he muttered. ‘Perhaps I should have. And what are you going to wear, Audrey? Does formal mean a long dress?’

‘Long dresses are out at the moment. Calf-length are in. I’m not sure what I’ll wear yet. I was going to go shopping with Lavinia on Thursday after work. I’ll probably end up buying something glitzy. Lavinia says glitz is definitely in.’ Audrey stopped to draw breath. She knew she was babbling, but nerves affected her that way sometimes.

‘Has it ever occurred to you that what’s in might not suit you?’ came his drawled remark. ‘Or that Lavinia might choose something that suits her, not you?’

‘Yes,’ she confessed. ‘That has ocurred to me, actually.’

‘Well, why not buy something all by yourself, something you like?’

This idea still flustered her, because she truly had no confidence where her own taste was concerned. ‘I’d like to,’ she said unhappily. ‘The trouble is I...I’m never sure what to buy. The sales ladies tell you everything looks nice and in the end I feel totally confused. I bought an evening dress by myself not long ago and Lavinia said it was a disaster. Totally lifeless and dreary on me.’

‘What colour was it?’

‘Plain cream, in a sort of silk material.’

‘And the style?’

‘Nothing spectacular. Long tight sleeves, fitted bodice, boat neck, lowish back. The skirt flares out.’

‘Do you still have it?’

‘Y...yes, but—’

‘Let me make a suggestion,’ he cut in forcibly. ‘Wear it! Cream sounds a perfect colour for you. Put your hair up and wear plain gold earrings. No other jewellery, not even a watch. Neutral shades around your eyes. Plenty of blusher. Bronze lipstick and nail polish. Got that?’

‘Well, yes...but...but...what are you,’ she asked with a nervous laugh, ‘an expert on women’s fashions?’

‘No. An expert on women.’

Her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t doubt him for a moment.

For the first time Audrey wondered about the past women in his life. First his old girlfriends. Then his wife, Moira... Had she been beautiful? Sexy? Sophisticated? Had he loved her to distraction?

Of course, shot back the answer.

Audrey was startled by the intense jab of jealousy this thought brought. She hadn’t really felt jealousy when she’d found out about Diane and Russell. Only pain at what his disloyalty revealed about herself, that she was incapable of inspiring a true and deep love. Yet with Elliot she was torn with envy to think of his even being with another woman, let alone loving her.

Did that mean she had fallen in love with him?

She hoped not. She really hoped not. The likes of Russell were easy to get over. Elliot was a different kettle of fish entirely. A man like him came along only once in a girl’s lifetime and would be impossible to forget.

‘Now promise me you won’t let Lavinia dress you,’ he was saying. ‘That you’ll do what I said.’

‘I promise. And Elliot...thank you...’

‘Don’t mention it.’

He hung up and Audrey was left clasping the receiver to her ear. Her hand began to shake as she lowered it slowly on to its cradle. Friday... It seemed a million light years away.

CHAPTER THREE

‘MAY I come in, Audrey?’

‘No, no, Lavinia, don’t come in. I’m still getting dressed. I don’t want anyone to see me till I’m all ready.’

‘Really, all this mystery!’ Lavinia said peevishly through the door. ‘First you won’t tell us anything about this Elliot you’ve invited. Now you won’t let me see what you look like. I just thought you might need some help with your hair. After all, you didn’t go to the hairdresser’s with me this afternoon, even though your father arranged for you to have time off work.’

‘My hair’s fine,’ she called back. ‘I did it myself.’

‘That’s what I’m afraid of, dear. You know how—’

‘Lavinia!’ Audrey burst out with uncharacteristic assertiveness. ‘Just leave me be for once!’

‘You don’t have to take that tone with me, Audrey. Truly, I don’t know what’s got into you today. Turning twenty-one is not a licence to be rude!’

Guilt assailed Audrey as she heard Lavinia flounce off, muttering. The impulse to go after her, call out, say something placatory was strong. But she was afraid Lavinia would say something patronising about her appearance, undermining the pleasurable confidence that was growing in Audrey every single second.

She turned to stare at herself in the full-length mirror one more time. She could hardly believe how good she looked. The cream silk dress didn’t water down her fair complexion as Lavinia had said it would. It gave her skin a softly glowing sheen. The evidence before her eyes suggested to Audrey that the bright reds and pinks and purples Lavinia had been encouraging her to wear—supposedly to put colour in her face—had been having the opposite effect, making her looked washed-out and sickly.

As for her hair... Audrey had never felt entirely comfortable with either the burgundy colour or the tightly curled perm which fluffed it out every which way. But Lavinia and her hairdresser had insisted on both, saying her natural brown hair was thin and mousy, that her small face needed dramatic balance, whatever that was. Despite some misgivings, she had taken their advice because they were the experts, and to give them the benefit of the doubt it was a common enough style and colour these days. Audrey had seen it to good effect on other women.

But obviously not on her.

Now that she had put it up, suppressing the mass into a tight chignon, with only a few curls escaping, Audrey could see that a shorter, less bulky style would suit her heaps better. Maybe a lighter, softer colour would be better too. She resolved to do something about both as soon as possible.

The faint bong of the grandfather clock in the foyer striking seven filtered upstairs. Audrey swallowed, a burst of nerves fluttering into her stomach. Elliot would be arriving any minute, along with the other guests. She really should be going downstairs.

Still she dithered, terrified that someone would say something critical about how she looked. It wouldn’t take much to shatter her new and fragile confidence. Maybe she didn’t look as good as she thought. Maybe she was being deceived by a minimal improvement from her previous horror.

But it wasn’t just her own appearance that was making her nervous. Elliot’s would come as a bit of a shock, too. Both her father and Lavinia were probably picturing an effete and unprepossessing young snob, not the mature dashing figure Elliot would cut in a dinner suit. She hoped they wouldn’t appear too astonished, or ask too many awkward questions. Elliot had no idea he had been cast in the role of ardent admirer. No doubt he imagined he was coming merely as a friend.

Quelling another flutter of nerves, Audrey took one last look in the mirror for renewed confidence and reluctantly made her way downstairs.

‘Why, Audrey, my dear!’ her father pronounced in surprised tones when she finally appeared in the doorway of the huge living-room. ‘You look lovely! Doesn’t she look lovely, Lavinia?’

Audrey’s chest swelled, then tightened as Lavinia turned from where she was checking the glasses and decanters in the cocktail cabinet. Her black eyes narrowed as they travelled down then up the cream dress. ‘Yes...quite lovely,’ she agreed. But her eyes were angry.

Audrey was once again taken aback by her stepmother’s attitude towards her, till she decided Lavinia’s nose was out of place that her judgement about the cream dress had been wrong. No one liked to be shown up, but one would have thought she’d be pleased her stepdaughter looked nice for her own birthday party.

The front doorbell ringing distracted Audrey from her puzzled hurt.

Elliot! she thought breathlessly.

‘I’ll answer that, Maree,’ she called out, stopping the maid in her tracks as she hurried across the black marble foyer towards the front door. The young woman, who’d been hired just for the night, looked hesitant for a moment, before making a shrugging retreat.

Audrey’s heart was thudding loudly as she spun away from a sour-faced Lavinia and hastened to the front door. It wasn’t Elliot, however. It was Edward Hurley and his wife, Alice. Tall and fortyish, Edward was the sales manager for Modern Office Supplies Ltd, and Audrey’s boss. Her gaining the position as his secretary over Diane was one of the reasons behind the other girl’s jealousy. But Audrey knew she was a more efficient and better secretary than Diane and had never felt the position had gone to her merely through nepotism.

‘My, my,’ Edward murmured as his wide-eyed gaze ran over her, ‘you’re looking surprisingly soignée, Audrey. I hardly recognised you for a second.’

‘You do have a habit of giving backhanded compliments, Edward,’ his nice wife reproved. ‘But that dress does suit you, Audrey. I love your hair up. It brings attention to your lovely eyes and skin.’ Alice smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Happy birthday, my dear. I hope you like this little gift,’ she said, and pressed a small but beautifully packaged parcel into Audrey’s hands.

‘I’m sure I will,’ Audrey beamed, buoyed up by the woman’s warm and seemingly sincere compliments. Lavinia’s uncharitable reaction to her improved appearance didn’t hurt quite so much now. ‘Here, let me take your coat.’

She had barely done as much when the doorbell rang again.

‘That’ll be Dwight,’ Edward said. ‘He pulled into the drive just as we reached the top step. As you can imagine, we decided not to wait for him.’

Audrey conceded that mounting the front steps at the Farnsworth residence took some time, since there were thirty of them. The house was relatively new and, Audrey thought, far too ostentatious. Double-storeyed, but of no particular style, it had columns and curlicues all over the place, not to mention acres of Italian marble and huge open-planned rooms that gave no sense of privacy.

She infinitely preferred the older, cosier home that had been her mother’s family residence. But no sooner had Lavinia become the new Mrs Farnsworth than she had insisted on having a house built to her own taste. Audrey had come home one summer holiday from the boarding-school she’d been dispatched to, to find they had moved into this brand new edifice.

She turned again and opened the door a second time. Dwight Liston, Modern Office Supplies’ sleek yuppie marketing manager, and his attractive blonde wife, Frances, literally gaped when they saw her. Their reaction did wonders for Audrey’s growing self-esteem. But nothing could obliterate the underlying feeling of apprehension at Elliot’s non-arrival. She threw an encompassing glance over her guests’ shoulders at the driveway and the street beyond the garden wall. There wasn’t a black Saab in sight. Surely, oh, surely he wasn’t going to let her down!

Dwight and Frances were duly ushered inside along with Edward and Alice, their presents deposited on the special table alongside the very ornate birthday cake Lavinia had chosen. Audrey was vaguely conscious of several more lavish compliments on her appearance and a glass of champagne being pressed into her hands. But her smile was plastic, her ears straining to hear the thrum of Elliot’s car arriving. When the maid offered her an hors-d’oeuvre she took it and ate it without having any idea what it was.

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