His After-Hours Mistress(12)

Ginny could feel the same old anger balling up inside her, threatening  to choke her. 'My friends were not riff-raff,' she insisted, enunciating  each word carefully. 'Nor did I ever sleep around.'

He laughed harshly. 'No? You went off with the first man who came sniffing round you. You couldn't wait to get into his bed!'

The accusation was true, but only to a point. 'I loved him. I thought he  loved me.' She had been desperate for affection, starving for it. So  much so that she was blinded to Mark's true nature.

That made Sir Martin laugh again. 'And all he really wanted was my  money. When he knew he would never get his hands on it, he couldn't drop  you quickly enough.'

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest to hide the fact that her hands  were shaking with suppressed emotion. 'I wasn't the first, and I  certainly won't be the last woman who's been made a fool of by a man.'

'Nor been left pregnant by him,' Sir Martin added sneeringly.

There was nothing Ginny could do to ward off the shaft of pain his words  drove through her. She gasped as the old wound was torn open.  Straightening up, her eyes flashed a warning he was treading on  dangerous ground.

'That has nothing to do with you.'

Her father bent over her, using his height and size to dominate. 'It has  everything to do with me, young woman. I have to live with the  knowledge that there's a fatherless child out there bringing disgrace to  an old and honoured name!'

Oh, if ever there were a few words that summed up what really mattered  to her father, those were the ones. His name and position meant more to  him than his family. Well, he didn't have to worry about it any longer.

Strong emotions threatened to choke her, but she forced herself to speak  clearly. 'You can put your mind at rest, Brigadier. There is no child  to put a blot on the family escutcheon.'

He was brought up short temporarily. 'You had it adopted after all?'

That was what he had demanded in exchange for his help. It had never  been an option for her. Ginny shook her head. 'She died.' Her voice  broke on the word, and her eyes glittered like diamonds with unshed  tears. 'That should give you cause to celebrate,' she went on, rallying.  Determined not to break down before this unforgiving man.

Sir Martin straightened up, folding his hands behind his back, military  fashion. 'Probably the best thing to happen,' he declared shortly, and  Ginny drew in a shocked breath.

'You are incredible. There isn't an ounce of compassion in you. Well,  this will come as a surprise to you, Brigadier, but it wasn't the best  thing for me that my baby died. I wanted her. I would have loved her in a  way you could never comprehend.'                       
       
           



       

Sir Martin set his jaw. 'Children are for continuing the family line.'

How many times had she heard that? It had been no more true then than it  was now. 'That's archaic! You would have had me marry a man of your  choice, just to enhance the family connection!'

'Precisely. James and Lucy are doing their duty by the family, as you should have done.'

Ginny paled at his revelation. 'You're forcing Lucy into marriage, too?'

'Nobody is forcing her to do anything. I've simply placed the names of  suitable husbands before her so that she can make her own choice,' her  father denied.

'And if she doesn't want to marry one of those?' Ginny enquired, feeling her stomach tighten as Sir Martin smiled smugly.

'Lucy is not like you. She will do what she knows is right, or end up like you.'

Ginny stared at him, aghast. 'You're using me as a threat to get her to  do what you demand?' Her brain was whirling. Oh, God, Lucy, not you too!

Sir Martin smirked down at her. 'Did you think you would be sowing the  seeds of rebellion when you left? That was a serious tactical error. All  you did was remove a thorn in my side. Your name is never mentioned.  You don't exist so far as this family is concerned, Virginia. My game, I  think.'

Ginny closed her eyes as she made a sickening discovery. By staying away  she had given her father the opportunity to force her brother and  sister into line. Too late she realised she should have stayed in touch  with them somehow. She could have helped them to see that they didn't  have to obey his unreasonable demands. As he said, it had been a  tactical error on her part, but he had just made one of his own. He had  told her about it, and now she knew she had to do something. James might  be beyond her reach, but Lucy was not. What she must not do now was  show her hand.

'You may think you've won, Brigadier, but it's an illusion. You're going  to end up a lonely, bitter old man. Now, if you don't mind, I came out  here for some fresh air, and you're sullying it with your presence.'

'I have no intention of staying out here any longer than it takes me to  get your promise not to talk to my family,' Sir Martin responded coldly,  but Ginny laughed and shook her head.

'Hell will freeze over before that happens.'

Angry colour mottled his cheeks. 'You refuse?'

'You can bet your life I do. You can't browbeat me like you do James.  I'm made of stronger stuff.' Hopefully, Lucy would be made of stronger  stuff too. Lord, she hoped so.

He looked as if he wanted to throttle her, but that was one thing he had  never done-harmed any of them physically. He preferred to dominate  mentally. 'You'll regret defying me. I'll make sure you do,' he  threatened, and spun on his heel and marched off.

Shaking more than a little, Ginny turned and rested her hands on the parapet again, closing her eyes.

'Damn him! Oh, damn him to hell!' she gritted out through her teeth, slamming her fist on to the concrete.

Her father had dominated her life, turned it into an unending war for  independence. She had thought she was free, but it had been a temporary  reprieve. She would not be able to breathe freely again until she had  saved Lucy from a marriage of convenience. Lucy had been scarcely ten  years old when she had left-a child-now she was a young woman. Perhaps  it was too late. Her father might have done his work too well. It was  something Ginny was going to have to find out …

Suddenly she froze. There had been a noise off to her left followed by a  stifled sound. Turning round, she tried to probe the darkness.

'Hello? Is anybody there?' she called out, and was almost on the point  of deciding it must have been a cat or some other animal, when the  darkness shifted and she could make out the shape of a man walking  towards her.

Seconds later, Roarke stepped into the soft moonlight, a wry expression  on his face. 'I should tell my mother to move some of her potted plants.  I gave my knee a nasty rap,' he said with a laugh, but Ginny didn't  smile.

'What were you doing, hovering in the shadows like that?' she demanded  to know, whilst a cold lump settled in her stomach. How long had he been  there? What did he know?

'Enjoying the moonlight?' Roarke ventured, but when she continued to  stare at him coldly, he shrugged and confessed. 'Waiting for Sir Martin  to leave.'

Her eyes narrowed. 'How long have you been standing there?'

Roarke came closer, hands tucked into his trouser pockets. 'I saw him  follow you out, and, as I didn't like the look on his face, I decided to  keep tabs on him. I slipped out through the library window.' He jerked  his head in the direction of the window she could barely make out.                       
       
           



       

Her nerves jolted anxiously at that, and though she was sure she knew  the answer to her next question, she braced herself to ask it anyway.  'How much did you hear?'

Stopping before her, Roarke looked her squarely in the eye. 'Pretty much  everything,' he confessed, and Ginny drew in an angry breath. By her  sides her hands balled into fists.

'Damn you, Roarke, you had no right to listen! What you eavesdropped on was private.'

He raised his hands placatingly. 'I know. I'm sorry. In my defence, I  can only say I was more interested in making sure you were safe. I told  you, I didn't like the look on your father's face.'

The casual use of the word 'father' underlined just how much he now  knew, and how pointless it would be to attempt to deny it. The cat was  out of the bag and, much as she might wish otherwise, it could never be  put back. Roarke now knew the most sordid details of her past, and she  was sure he could make a good attempt at filling in the blanks of what  he didn't know. The protective wall she had built had been breached,  leaving her feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she had in years.  Impotent rage bubbled inside her, and she hated him for knowing what he  did. It was none of his business.

'What you did was despicable, and a sheer waste of time.' She hit back  at him the only way she could. 'I was never in any physical danger from  him. That isn't how he works.'

Roarke's expression grew grim. 'No, I realised that after a while. He  prefers to use mind games, doesn't he? Where the scars won't show. It's  still abuse in my book. Your father is little more than a bully, and I  have an intense dislike for bullies.'