To Claim His Mistress. Sara Craven

gear that most of the boutiques were offering.

      On Sunday she went for a walk in the park, lunched at a bistro near her flat, and tried and failed to read the newspapers. She applied a face pack, and took a long and leisurely bath, then gave herself a manicure.

      She was wildly, stingingly nervous as she began to pack her overnight bag. Liam hadn’t mentioned a time, but she wanted to be ready when the car came for her.

      I don’t want to waste a minute of my time with him, she told herself.

      She chose one of her new bra and brief sets in white brod-erie anglaise, topping them with a linen shift dress in a soft, deep blue. She was just fastening the zip when the knock on the door came.

      ‘I’m coming,’ she called, as she dealt with the safety chain and undid the latch. Only to find herself confronted by her mother.

      ‘Hello, darling.’ Vanessa Carlton sauntered in, unfastening the jacket of her pale primrose suit. ‘They gave me your message at the hotel, so I thought I’d come round and see you. Spend a nice girlie evening together. Did you want anything special?’

      ‘Well, no.’ Cat swallowed her dismay. ‘It was just that I hadn’t seen you for a while and…’

      ‘Well, you’ll be seeing much more of me from now on.’ Vanessa disposed herself elegantly on the sofa. ‘If you’ve any Chardonnay in the fridge, I’d like some,’ she added.

      ‘Yes,’ Cat said mechanically. ‘Yes, of course.’ Oh, God, she wailed inwardly, as she found the corkscrew and opened the bottle. This is a disaster.

      ‘Could you manage to take a few hours off early next week?’ Vanessa asked, taking the glass Cat was proffering. ‘I’d really like you to come flat-hunting with me.’

      ‘Flat-hunting?’ Cat nearly spilled her own wine down the blue dress. ‘You can’t be tired of the Savoy, surely?’

      ‘No, but I don’t want to take up permanent residence either.’

      ‘But I thought you’d be going back to Beverly Hills?’

      ‘Well, normally I would be,’ Vanessa said. ‘But London’s an interesting place at the moment. There are a couple of projects I’m looking at, so I’ve decided to stay where the work is.’ She lifted her glass, an odd smile playing round her lips. ‘Cheers, darling.’

      ‘And what about Gil? His work’s in America, isn’t it? He won’t want to stay here.’

      ‘Ah, Gil,’ Vanessa said meditatively. ‘Let’s just say that negotiations are in progress.’

      She leaned back against the cushions and looked her daughter up and down, her smile widening.

      ‘You look very nice, Cathy. That’s a good colour for you.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Would you like to go and eat somewhere?’

      Cat nerved herself. ‘Actually, I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’m going out already—to see friends.’

      ‘And taking an overnight bag, I see.’ Vanessa missed nothing. ‘These people must be incredibly—friendly.’ She paused expectantly. ‘So tell me, sweetie, are you embarking on a private life at last? And, if so, who is he?’

      ‘If I told you,’ Cat said steadily, ‘it would no longer be private.’ And how can I tell you what I don’t even know myself?

      ‘Wow.’ Vanessa lifted her eyebrows. ‘If you want to hug it to yourself as a closely guarded secret it must be important.’ She paused. ‘As a concerned mother, don’t I get even a teensy clue?’

      Cat gave her an ironic look. ‘Is that how you see yourself?’

      Vanessa was unoffended. ‘Let’s just say it’s a new role that I’m considering—among others.’

      As the door sounded she gave Cat a triumphant look. ‘And I think your secret life just hit the dust, my sweet.’

      The driver was waiting impassively outside.

      ‘I’m sorry, but I have an unexpected visitor,’ Cat apologised in a low voice. ‘I’ll get a cab as soon as she’s gone.’

      ‘I have my instructions, madam.’ His smile was polite.

      ‘And no other appointments, so there’s no hurry. Whenever you’re ready.’

      Cat turned back into the room to find Vanessa standing at the window.

      ‘Nice car, darling. Is that what Cinderella’s coach looks like these days? No sign of Prince Charming unfortunately,’ she added, moving back to the sofa and refilling her glass. ‘I shall just have to live in hope.’ And she sat down, crossing her legs with a seraphic smile.

      Cat bit her lip. ‘Mother, the driver’s waiting for me. I—I really need to go.’

      Vanessa tutted. ‘Piece of maternal advice, my pet. Don’t seem too eager.’

      ‘Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen?’ Cat queried coolly. ‘Isn’t that a little dated?’

      Her mother laughed. ‘Don’t you believe it. So, just relax and drink your wine, while we work out a day for flat-hunting. I’m quite serious about this.’

      She was quite serious about a number of things, Cat thought resignedly as she sat down and reached for her glass.

      She said, ‘The hotel said you’d gone away for the weekend. Was it anywhere special?’

      Vanessa shrugged. ‘A get-together with old friends. I had a wonderful time.’

      ‘Did you take your—Gil?’

      ‘He had people of his own to see.’ Vanessa gave her an amused glance. ‘We’re not joined at the hip, you know.’

      She began to chat inconsequentially about a fashion show she’d attended, an exhibition opening soon at the National Gallery, a play she’d seen, long past its shelf-life.

      It was all light-hearted stuff, faintly spiced with malice, and at any other time Cat would have sat back and enjoyed the performance. But not now. As the time relentlessly approached the hour she was on tenterhooks, in case Liam grew tired of waiting for her.

      And when her mother finally put down her glass, and reached a leisurely hand for her bag, Cat could have shouted aloud in relief.

      ‘So why don’t you come to the Savoy on Tuesday morning?’ Vanessa suggested as they walked to the door. ‘We can go and look at the flats the agents have found for me, and then have lunch at Vanni’s.’

      Cat had been working a lot of extra hours lately. Andrew was not likely to object to her having some time off, she thought.

      ‘Fine,’ she agreed. ‘Shall we say around ten?’

      ‘Well, certainly not before,’ Vanessa said with a touch of acerbity, then paused. ‘I suppose cabs are the usual nightmare round here? Perhaps your driver would take me on to the hotel after he’s dropped you at your assignation,’ she added innocently.

      Nice try, Ma, thought Cat. ‘I think he’d find it easier to go via the Savoy,’ she returned evenly, catching a glimpse of chagrin in her mother’s eyes. ‘Otherwise, no problem.’

      Except that it meant she was going to be later than ever, she realised, as, with Vanessa duly delivered, the car threaded its way back through the evening traffic in the West End.

      The flat was quiet when she let herself in, but she could see a narrow ribbon of light under the sitting room door. So he had waited after all, she thought, her heart leaping.

      She was rehearsing her apology as she opened the door and went in, then paused, the words dying on her lips.

      Liam was lying back in the corner of the sofa, one arm thrown along the top of the cushions, eyes closed, his breathing soft and regular, so fast asleep that he didn’t stir