Free Guardian to the Heiress by Margaret Way Page A

never call. You never ring.”
    “Gosh, I wonder why?”
    Her mother spoke like a woman forever doomed to be misunderstood. “Your father was my husband, Carol.” A perfectly good reason for her presence, apparently. Roxanne was looking marvellous, but wearing a sweet, spicy perfume that was making Carol feel a bit sick.
    “Husband number one,” Carol said.
    Roxanne countered. “How long do I have to suffer your flip remarks? I have a right to be here, Carol. I’m your mother.”
    Her tone riled, but Carol kept control. Too many people were watching. Marcus Bradfield’s wife, for one. Valerie Bradfield had her head cocked at the best angle to overhear. Carol knew for a fact Valerie detested her mother. “So, will it be okay if I call you Mum, then?”
    Roxanne wasn’t about to accept that. “You don’t deserve me.” Her voice throbbed with lack of gratitude. “You don’t deserve any of this!” Roxanne made a sweeping gesture with her arm.
    “Watch it, Mum,” Carol warned. “You might knock another Chinese vase off its stand. From here on in, all breakages must be paid for.”
    Roxanne was in no mood for humour. “To think you can joke on a day like this!”
    “Make a fuss, Mum, and I’ll have someone see you and Jeff out,” Carol returned quietly.
    “You learn fast, don’t you?” Roxanne spoke with great bitterness. “You’re going to be just like...”
    “Get a handle on it, Mum. Damon Hunter is coming this way.”
    Roxanne stared halfway across the drawing room. No trouble spotting the tall, very handsome young man dressed in an impeccable dark suit. There was a man who captured attention. In photographs he looked very dashing. In the flesh he looked like a Renaissance prince with his glossy sable hair, bronze skin and brilliant coal-black eyes. “He’s not going to be able to do everything for you, Carol. You’ll need someone. You’ll need me. Just remember that.”
    “Don’t forget to remind me to remember that,” Carol said drolly.
    “There you go again with your wisecracks.”
    “I don’t want to go near chucking you out, Mum. I hope you noted the big hug Jeff gave me. One of the reasons I moved out.”
    “God forgive you,” Roxanne said, a pious look on her face. “Jeff has been a splendid stepfather to you.”
    “Get the blinkers off for once in your life, Mum.”
    As Damon approached, Roxanne’s outraged face settled into an alluring smile. Roxanne was man bait. A brunette with a magnolia skin and ice-blue eyes, she looked wonderful in black.
    “Introduce me,” she managed, out of the side of her mouth. “I have a hundred questions to ask him.”
    “Just be sure you have nothing to hide.”
    “All families have something to hide, Carol,” Roxanne answered with a brief laugh.
    “Indeed they do. Especially the Chancellors. Don’t expect Damon to answer any of your questions. You might have to make do with the introduction.”
    * * *
    When it was time to leave her uncle drew her into his arms. It wasn’t a close hug like Jeff’s, but outwardly the action of a fond uncle. Carol experienced the same odd feeling of trepidation. Had her uncle frightened her when she was a child? If he had, she retained no memory of it. He wouldn’t have dared in any case. She had been her grandfather’s little princess.
    “Call me when you want to take a run out to Beaumont,” he said as though nothing had changed. “I can’t come to grips with the fact my father left the estate to you, Carol. But I don’t want you to think I blame you in any way. It was my father’s idea of revenge.”
    “That may not have been his motive at all, Uncle Maurice. I’m my father’s daughter. Grandfather’s feelings of remorse must have gone very deep. I know how much you love Beaumont. You will have plenty of time to find yourself another country retreat. I believe Mayfield is coming on the market?”
    Maurice Chancellor’s blue eyes blazed. “My dear, I couldn’t settle anywhere else other