Sinful Nights(32)

 



 

What if it was? Legally she had every right to share his guardianship.  Amanda must have wanted her to do so otherwise she would never have  appointed her in the first place. But then Amanda would never have  expected to die at twenty-seven. Neither would John, Lissa argued  mentally with herself. No  …  she had every right to take legal advice and  discover what steps she could take in the law to force Joel to  recognise her rights.

What about the children? an inner voice argued. Was it fair on them to  subject them to legal quarrels between their guardians so shortly after  they had lost their parents? But if she didn't do so she would be cut  completely out of their lives. Joel was ruthless enough to do that, she  knew it. He was not married either, so there would be no feminine  influence in their lives, if one discounted the string of glamorous  girlfriends who seemed to slip in and out of his life, not to say his  bed. No, the girls needed her, she was convinced of it  …  just as they  needed Joel. Unlike him she didn't deny that he had his rights.

Simon knew all about her hopes and fears in connection with her nieces  and had generously told her to take off all the time she needed to visit  her solicitors. This morning she had managed to arrange an early  appointment, which meant that she should not arrive at the office too  much later than Simon himself, who didn't normally put in an appearance  until ten.

The night before last Simon had taken her out for dinner and they had  spent most of the evening talking about the children. Sighing faintly,  Lissa finished her coffee and collected her outdoor things. Simon was  intrigued by her she knew; he found her sexual coldness a challenge he  was not used to facing; he couldn't see that her refusal to go to bed  with him wasn't just a manoeuvre in a clever game, but a genuine  abhorrence of the sexual act. She had tried to tell him  …  to explain to  him why it was she found it so difficult to let him touch her even in  the most general way, but as always, guided by some inner caution she  had withheld the real truth. That was something she found it impossible  to talk to anyone about, and a thin film of sweat broke out on her skin  as her mind kaleidoscoped back and she was fifteen again. Clenching her  hands together Lissa willed the memories away, but they refused to  listen. How ungainly and insecure she had been at fifteen; how conscious  of being the family's ugly duckling; of being unloved in the way that  Amanda was loved. Her father had wanted a son and not a second daughter;  she knew that, but even so, if she had been another blonde moppet like  her elder sister she felt reasonably sure that he would have come to  terms with his disappointment. As it was her dark red hair and tall  uncoordinated frame were so much the antithesis of what her father  thought was feminine that he had never been able to reconcile himself to  his disappointment. Her mother, like Amanda, was a delicate, fluffy  blonde, and Lissa had lost count of the number of times she had heard  her mother explaining half apologetically to her friends that she had no  idea where her second daughter got her plainness from. Not from my  side of the family, I'm sure  … ' Lissa's mouth tightened, and she  counselled herself sternly not to blame her parents. A more self-reliant  and less intensely emotional child would soon have learned to come to  terms with being second best. Her parents were not responsible for the  flaws in her personality, any more than she was herself. Over the years  she had taught herself to accept that and to make the best of what  Nature had given her. There had been many men who if asked would have  quite openly chosen her tall, red-headed elegance over her sister's  blonde prettiness, but she had never allowed them to do so. Picking up  her bag and keys, Lissa made for her front door.

Three quarters of an hour later she was seated in her solicitor's office, listening to his careful, judicial speech.

The question she had asked him was whether Joel Hargreaves could legally deny her access to her nieces.

Not legally,' her solicitor told her, frowning slightly as he leaned  his elbows on his desk and studied her. Her parents had been clients of  his for many years, and he felt intensely sympathetic to this quite,  beautiful girl who he remembered as a rather plain and very frightened  teenager. But of course, we can't overlook the fact that materially he  can give them much more than you can. He owns a large house in the  country, unless I'm mistaken?'

Lissa nodded. Yes, and he's rich enough to be able to afford a nanny  for them  …  something I couldn't possibly manage  …  I know I can't have  them to live with me on a permanent basis-at least not yet, but visiting  rights  …  weekends.'    

 



 

Her solicitor pursed his lips. Yes  …  yes  …  After all it was your  sister's wish that you be appointed co-guardian of the girls. You're  their godmother as well, aren't you?'

Lissa confirmed that this was so.

It's just a pity that you aren't married, or at least engaged,' he  added thoughtfully. Judges are often a trifle old-fashioned in their  attitude towards minors. If they can see a ready-made family unit they  look upon it very favourably.'

Lissa wanted to point out that Joel wasn't married either, but she did  not. After all, unlike her, Joel could afford to buy all the help  needed. Joel and John had both received all the benefits of being rich  man's sons. Both had gone to a famous public school; Joel had taken over  running the family estate when his father retired, while John had run  the components factory from which they derived their wealth. The estate  was a large one, encompassing several farms, woods, a shoot in Scotland,  and Winterly House itself, a Queen Anne gem of a building which Lissa  had only visited twice, but had fallen instantly in love with. She had  never been able to understand how John and Amanda could prefer to live  in the extremely modern house John had had built for them, but then  Amanda, unlike herself, had been a thoroughly modern young woman.  Painfully, Lissa dragged her thoughts back to the present, in time to  hear her solicitor saying that while there was no doubt about her legal  rights to the children, he suspected that Joel Hargreaves intended to  make it extremely hard for her to take them up.

He frowned slightly as he studied the papers in front of him, a faint  tinge of embarrassed colour darkening his skin as he said hesitantly,  And then of course there is the matter of  …  well, reputation  …  from the  court's point of view  … '

He got no further, because Lissa had stood up, pushing her chair back  unsteadily, her eyes darkening to brilliant emerald as she interrupted  bitterly. Are you trying to say that a court might not consider me a  fit person to have charge of the girls? And how will they prove that I  wonder?' Temper had her in its coils now, burning fever bright, pushing  through the barriers of pride and reserve, words boiling up inside her  and spilling volcanic-like from the place deep inside her where all her  pain was buried. By checking through my life? By questioning my  friends? By delving into my private life, searching diligently for every  little grub of dirt they can find?' Two angry spots of colour burned  high on her cheeks as she added finally, Perhaps they might even want  to subject me to a physical examination  …  just to find out how  promiscuous I am  …  What a pity they can't apply the same rules and  standards to Mr Hargreaves  …  but then of course, his lifestyle isn't  important is it? After all he's rich and important, and I'm neither  …   Isn't that what you're trying to tell me.'

My dear  … ' The solicitor looked and felt embarrassed. What she had said  held a faint shadow of truth, although of course there could be no  question of any examination of her  …  physical or otherwise  …  In the face  of her bitter anger he felt unable to defend or even explain the  workings of the law  …  nor could he entirely refute her allegations  concerning the court's possible view of Joel Hargreaves. It was wrong  and unfair he knew that.

I won't give them up  …  I won't  … '

Lissa turned round and almost ran from his office, still so angry that  she never even noticed the speculative stares of his secretary who had  caught her raised voice from inside her boss's office. No wonder she had  lost her temper, with a mane of hair like that, she reflected half  enviously. Her own hair was a soft mousy brown, and in her fantasy  daydreams she had often imagined herself as a passionate redhead.

Lissa was still shaking when she reached her own office. Simon was there  already, checking through the post. He smiled warmly at her, checking  when he saw her expression. Heavens, what's happened?' he questioned  her, guiding her into a chair and perching on the edge of his desk. You  look as if you're about to explode.'