Free Dangerous Deception by Anthea Fraser Page A

“Doesn’t Bryn know about us?”
    Bryn – Jack? “I didn’t tell him,” I said truthfully.
    â€œBut you knew I was Aladdin?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThat figures – or you’d never have agreed to come. Bryn and his bloody secrecy!” He gave a harsh laugh. “Poor Clare, no wonder you looked a bit white around the gills!”
    â€œAnd you didn’t know I was Goldilocks?”
    That should convince him. It seemed to; he looked at me sharply, then away again. “Of course not – I’d no idea you were involved. I was expecting the Lawrence girl, though actually Bryn just said he was sending ‘one of his birds’. I presume the description fits?”
    His tone was an insult, but before I could think of a reply he burst out, “God, Clare, where did you meet him? And when? I know he’s attractive to women and there’s always a crowd of them around him, but you! I’d never have thought—” He broke off and ran a hand through his hair.
    â€œYou mean,” I said, asserting myself at last, “that he’s rather different from you?”
    There was a pause. Then he said quietly, “I suppose I deserved that. Tell me one thing: did you know him while we were engaged?”
    â€œYes,” I lied.
    â€œI thought there must be someone. Where did you meet?”
    I hesitated.
    â€œAt one of the galleries?”
    â€œYes,” I acknowledged, grateful for the let-out.
    We sat in silence for a few minutes, each digesting the information we had gleaned. It seemed almost certain that Bryn was Jack, and in charge of the operation. Was he intending to join us, or busy establishing alibis in London? I couldn’t ask – I was supposed to know the answer.
    As to his reputation with women and my own part in it, I was powerless to defend myself, though the scorn in Philip’s voice still rankled.
    â€œHe must be pretty sure of you,” he said after a while, “to entrust you with this. But I suppose if he didn’t know we knew each other—”
    â€œWhat difference does that make?”
    I felt him tense, and waited nervously for another of those uncharacteristic outbursts. But he merely said tightly, “You’re right, none at all, though you must admit it’s one hell of a coincidence. Come to think of it, since you’re so heavily involved, what price that sanctimonious little scene at Conningley? Believe me, it would upset Matthew far more to learn of your defection than it did of mine.”
    I bent my head.
    â€œOr is your affection for him just a blind?”
    â€œNo!” I said sharply.
    â€œThen I can’t pretend to understand.”
    Nor I, though I couldn’t say so.
    â€œYou didn’t know at the time, did you?” Philip went on.
    â€œAt the time?”
    â€œOf the fire.”
    â€œOh. No.” I paused, and added for more emphasis, “No, I didn’t.”
    â€œNor did I. For what it’s worth, that’s the truth. But since it’s all gone through now, I’m damned if I see why we shouldn’t share in the profit. Agreed?”
    â€œDefinitely,” I said whitely.
    â€œWell, you might as well tell me where they are, then.”
    I frowned. “Don’t you know?”
    â€œOnly the final part – so many paces after such and such. But in true Bryn fashion, I haven’t been told where those paces have to be taken.”
    â€œAt Cefn Fawr Castle.”
    â€œAnd where the devil’s that?”
    I shook my head. He reached over to the back seat for a map. I didn’t make any attempt to look at it.
    â€œSeems to be on the coast, about fifteen miles away. Presumably we’re supposed to reconnoitre?”
    â€œYes, either today or tomorrow. Beanstalk is scheduled for Tuesday.”
    He looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Quite the little confidante, aren’t you? Have you got a plan of the