Seduced By The Enemy. Kathryn Ross

Beaumont House over the years.

      When Helena’s mother had died Mary had been a close friend to Helena. She had comforted the griefstricken nine-year-old and had taken over the running of the house, becoming a mother substitute to both her and Paul when Lawrence Beaumont had been unable to cope with his own feelings of grief, let alone his children.

      ‘Let me look at you.’ Mary’s round face beamed with good nature as she stepped back from her. ‘My Lord, you look as pretty as a picture.’

      ‘Doesn’t she just?’ Much to Helena’s embarrassment, Tate was the one to agree with this statement. He lifted the champagne glasses and handed one each to Helena and Mary. ‘I’d like to propose a toast,’ he said, holding Helena’s gaze with steady blue eyes. ‘Welcome home, Helena. May your visit be a long and memorable one.’

      Helena had a feeling it was going to be more than just memorable. She had a very strong feeling that it was going to be unforgettable.

      ‘Hear, hear.’ Lawrence topped the glasses up once they had taken a few sips of the golden liquid.

      The sound of the telephone ringing made Mary put down her glass and hurry from the room.

      ‘Will you stay and have some dinner with us Tate?’ Lawrence asked.

      Helena noted that her father’s voice wasn’t just polite—he sounded as if he genuinely would have welcomed the other man’s company.

      Tate glanced at his watch. ‘I’d love to, but I’ve got an important meeting in an hour. I really should be leaving now.’

      About time, Helena thought grimly. It should be Paul joining them for dinner, not Tate Ainsley. What on earth was her father thinking of?

      Lawrence nodded, obviously disappointed. Then he turned his attention towards his daughter. ‘So, Helena,’ he said bluntly, ‘put me out of my misery. Have you come home to tell us you’re getting married?’

      Helena tried very hard not to blush. So Tate had been right! He seemed to be very much privy to her father’s personal thoughts, she observed with concern.

      ‘No, Pop,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘I’ve come back to see you—there’s nothing more to it than that.’

      ‘Thank heavens for that,’ Lawrence said fervently. ‘Not that I don’t want you to get married—on the contrary, I think it’s high time you tied the knot and gave me some grandchildren to bounce on my knee—but I don’t want you marrying somebody miles away in London…I want you to marry someone closer to home.’ Her father’s voice was heavy with implication.

      Helena felt sure that her face was crimson as she met Tate’s coolly amused glance.

      She pulled her eyes away from him, angered by his air of arrogant amusement. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Pop,’ she finally managed to say in a tightly controlled voice, ‘but I’m married to my work. I’m a career girl.’

      Lawrence shook his head, looking totally disgusted with such a statement.

      She was extremely relieved when they were interrupted by Mary corning back into the room. ‘Phone for you, Miss Helena,’ she said cheerfully. ‘It’s your brother.’

      ‘You can take it in my office,’ Lawrence said grimly, his very tone of voice conveying how displeased he was with Paul.

      Helena put down her champagne and hurried towards the hall. She was extremely anxious to talk to Paul. Perhaps now he could shed some light on the exact situation here.

      Her father’s study was a room Helena had always felt comfortable in. The walls were lined with books and Lawrence’s huge desk looked out over splendid gardens which were ablaze with tropical colour. She perched on the edge of the desk, but her eyes were barely taking in the view outside—all her thoughts were centred on Paul at the other end of the line.

      ‘Sorry I didn’t make the airport. Vivian rang me this morning and said that Pop wanted Tate to pick you up.’ His voice was low, and he sounded utterly depressed.

      ‘What’s going on, Paul?’ Helena asked gently. ‘Pop seems to be very angry with you…more than I ever could have imagined.’

      ‘Well, I told you.’ Paul’s voice was aggrieved now. ‘It’s that Ainsley fellow, poisoning his mind. I suppose he’s still there?’

      ‘Drinking some champagne that he brought over,’ Helena informed him wryly.

      ‘Hell, the man has nerve. Over a million down the drain, and he’s got Pop—’

      ‘A million what…dollars?’ Helena’s heart missed a beat. ‘I don’t follow this at all, Paul.’

      ‘If you want it bluntly, Tate has talked Pop into investing all that money into buying shares in an emerald mine.’

      ‘An emerald mine?’ Helena wondered if her brother was kidding for a second. It was like some kind of joke.

      ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it?’ Paul grated heavily. ‘The biggest laugh is that Pop invested the money ages ago and he hasn’t had a bean—or should I say a gem?— in return for it yet. But still he refuses to believe he’s being duped…the man is totally convinced that it’s a great business opportunity.’

      ‘But where did he get all that money to invest?’ Helena asked, totally bemused. She knew for a fact that her father hadn’t got that kind of cash to play with.

      ‘He’s sold nearly everything—all his other business investments, and that prime piece of land by Bounty Bay.’

      Helena felt suddenly heartsick. That land had belonged to her mother’s family…it had been in the family for generations and was of great sentimental value.

      ‘Who did he sell to?’ Almost before she asked the question she knew the answer.

      ‘Who do you think?’ Paul spat out venomously. ‘Tate Ainsley, of course. He’s wanted that land for years, and he got it for a song compared to what it was worth. I could have got twice as much money from another buyer who told me he was very interested.’

      Through the open window Helena could see Tate and Vivian walking towards his car. Tate was laughing at something the other woman was saying. He looked tremendously handsome—the sun was glinting off his jet-black hair and he had a laid-back, devil-may-care look about him.

      So, well he might laugh, Helena thought contemptuously. Obviously he thought he had the Beaumont household exactly where he wanted it.

      Her mouth set in a firmly determined line. No wonder Tate was working so hard to keep in her father’s good books—no wonder he was bringing over champagne and acting as if he cared about Lawrence’s health. He was probably hoping that if he hung on a little longer he would acquire Beaumont House for a knock-down price, the way he had acquired everything else.

      ‘He hasn’t been turning his particular brand of charm on you, has he, Helena?’ her brother asked anxiously. ‘You aren’t fooled by him, are you?’

      ‘Of course not,’ she told him in a strong voice. ‘I’ve got Tate’s measure now, and I can assure you that he’s not going to get away with fooling anyone for very much longer.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      HELENA couldn’t sleep that night. Thoughts of Tate Ainsley and worries about her father whirled incessantly in her mind. As soon as the first rays of sunlight slanted through her bedroom window she got up and went downstairs to make herself an early-morning cup of tea.

      She was moving silently across the hallway when a sound from her father’s study stopped her in midtrack. Surely her father wasn’t working at this hour? With a frown she went to investigate.

      Lawrence Beaumont was seated behind