Free The Woman From Paris by Santa Montefiore Page B

bombshell, and then disappear without so much as a backwards glance? It’s unbelievably rude!”
    There was a knock on the door, then Tom’s concerned face appeared through the gap. “Are you all right, Mum?”
    “Phaedra has declined to come and stay,” Rosamunde informed him importantly. “Your mother is very upset, quite understandably.” She patted her sister’s knee. “You’ll be all right, old girl. This will all go away, I promise.”
    Antoinette shook her head. “No, it won’t. I can’t rest knowing that a part of George is walking about the London streets and I’m not even able to talk to her.”
    “She’ll come round,” said Tom. “Just leave her be for a while. We weren’t exactly friendly, were we?”
    “No, we weren’t,” Antoinette agreed. “It was probably very hard for her, too.”
    “What did she expect? You can’t throw a grenade and expect a field of flowers to bloom,” Rosamunde added.
    “Mum, can I drive Dad’s Aston Martin back to London?” Tom asked.
    “It’s yours now, darling. You can do whatever you want with it.”
    He grinned. “Great!”
    “Are you leaving now?”
    “Got to get back, I’m afraid. Josh and Roberta have just gone. They didn’t want to disturb you. Where are the keys?”
    “In the drawer in the hall table.”
    He bent down and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Are you going to be all right?”
    “Of course she is,” Rosamunde replied briskly. “I’m here to look after her, and David’s just across the garden.”
    “Good. I’ll be down on the weekend.”
    “Drive carefully.”
    “You bet.” He grinned again, imagining himself at the wheel of the gleaming Aston Martin, roaring up the motorway.
    When David heard the news that Phaedra had refused to come to visit, he was desperately disappointed. He drove the Land Rover around the farm with Rufus in the well of the passenger seat, mulling over the possibilities. Phaedra might change her mind. After all, she had braved the funeral and was obviously curious to meet them. His father had generously provided for her in his will; perhaps she would now feel more warmly disposed towards his family. But the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Phaedra was unlikely to change her mind. They had made her feel uncomfortable and unwelcome. Why on earth would she wish to return to that unpleasant scene?
    He hated to see his mother so upset. Losing her husband had been a colossal blow, but discovering he had an illegitimate daughter would have floored most grieving widows; not Antoinette. She considered Phaedra a living part of her dead husband. Perhaps she was even hoping that in some magical way the girl could bring a bitof him back. David knew his mother wouldn’t find peace unless she made friends with her stepdaughter.
    There was only one thing to do. He’d have to go to London and convince Phaedra to come down. The mere thought of seeing her again filled him with nervous excitement. He recalled the first time he had laid eyes on her in the church: the halo of blond curls, the translucent skin, the pale innocence of her eyes, the compassionate way she had smiled. He mentally told himself that he had to calm down, that she was his sister, his own flesh and blood, and he couldn’t have her. But he brushed his reservations aside with a joyous toss of the head. He’d worry about that later.
    He didn’t tell his mother what he planned to do. He knew she’d advise against it. He confided in Julius instead. The lawyer was delighted to be part of his plan and gave him Phaedra’s telephone numbers and address without hesitation, then took it upon himself to ring Phaedra to warn her.
    Phaedra was horrified. “He’s coming here?” she exclaimed.
    “I gave him your address,” Julius replied calmly.
    “Why? I don’t want to see any of them again. Ever. I’m moving back to Paris right away, Julius. I don’t want to be entangled in this mess.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. This is