Dirty Aristocrat Read online

  I gasped in shock. ‘How could you say that about your father?’

  She looked at my horrified expression with revulsion. ‘Why are you pretending to be so shocked? I can say that because it’s the truth.’

  ‘It is not,’ I said, holding on tightly to my temper.

  ‘How old were you when you came to him?’

  ‘I was seventeen,’ I said indignantly. How could she even think that about Robert?

  ‘I rest my case.’

  ‘He … we … didn’t do anything, then,’ I stammered. I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn’t. I had to protect my secret. Otherwise it would have been all for nothing.

  ‘God, you disgust me. Both of you.’

  She turned away from me and rapped smartly on the glass. When Barry put it down she ordered him to stop the car. As soon as the car came to a halt she got out. Before closing the door, she had one last parting shot for her stepmother.

  ‘Just in case no one told you. It’s not the done thing for the grieving widow to deck herself in her best jewelry to attend her husband’s funeral.’

  Slamming the car door, she walked to the next car in the procession, the car that she should have been in. I turned my head and watched her enter it and shut the door.

  I turned back to face the front. ‘Carry on, Barry,’ I whispered painfully.

  My hands were trembling. I touched my pendant and closed my eyes. Oh, Robert. How could she even think that about you? I hoped wherever he was he had not heard our nasty conversation.

  Quietly, Barry put on his stereo system and Nick Cave’s poignant and heartfelt song Into My Arms fills the car. No gesture could have been more appropriate at that moment. The unexpected thoughtfulness of that mostly silent man took me by such surprise that I could not even speak. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror, mine full of silent gratitude, and his kind. I smiled and he nodded.

  When we arrived at the cemetery, I got out of the car, and Ivan strode up to me. His face was a like a thundercloud.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked harshly, his eyes sharp.

  His breath smoked. I looked up at him, still dazed. The wintry air invaded my lungs and stung my eyes. Did he also believe that Robert was a pedophile? Was that what everyone was thinking? I nodded.

  ‘Why did she get out of the car?’ he demanded.

  ‘It was nothing.’ I paused. My mind had gone blank, but he was staring at me with demanding eyes. ‘Er … she … wanted to know why we are having a reading of the will at the house and not getting written notifications.’

  ‘Why on earth did she ask you that? She knows damn well that I’m the executor of the will.’

  ‘Anyway, why are we having it done this way?’

  ‘Because I wanted it this way.’

  I looked at him curiously. ‘Why?’

  ‘I have my own reason. Now come on,’ he urged, and I fell into step with him. We walked briskly, our heads bowed on a path that glistened like white quartz.

  It was strange that my hurt and confused heart should find the presence of that cold, hostile man reassuring and a comfort. I stole a glance at him. His face was closed and distant. He gave the impression that he was not even aware of me.

  As soon as we reached the freshly dug grave, the woman he had come with caught up with us and linked her arm through his. There was no mound of exposed soil. Everything was white and completely beautiful. A woman handed out pink rose stems. I held it in my gloved hands. I looked around at the assembled. We were the official mourners, come to pay our last respects.

  Our breaths rising in little visible puffs.

  During the whole simple ceremony, no one spoke. There was just the slight sound of people shuffling. Then the coffin was put on the wooden lattice that had been erected over the hole in the ground.

  Someone sang a song. Her voice was beautiful. It rose up in the cold, still air and seemed to hover over us. I put the pink rose I had been given on the casket and kissed the cold smooth wood before I moved on. I didn’t stay to watch anybody else. I was freezing cold. I walked quickly to the car and got into it. The interior was blissfully warm. I took my leather gloves off and rubbed my hands together. They were like ice.

  That was it. Robert’s funeral.

  I had survived it.

  Now there was the ordeal of the reading of the will to be endured.

  CHAPTER 5

  Tawny Maxwell

  Now I ain’t saying she’s a gold digger, but old fool that he was, he pulled up in a Benz and no pre-nup.

  The reading of the will had been set for 2.00pm in the music room, a bright rectangular space with many tall windows. It had a splendid German grand piano in it that nobody played. Robert told me that it was bought for Rosalind when she was a child, but she had refused to play it after a few lessons.

  Chairs had been brought in and arranged in two rows of semi-circles facing the antique writing table. Robert’s solicitor, Nathen Jeremly, sat at it. He lifted his head when I walked in and smiled professionally. James, the butler and Mary, the housekeeper were sitting with their spines upright on the last two chairs at the back. I smiled at them and, going to the first row, sat at the end of the semi-circle. Next to arrive were my two stepdaughters. They looked around haughtily before coming to the front row and sitting in the middle seats. Neither spared me a glance.

  Dr. Jensen arrived, nodded at me coldly, and took his seat next to Robert’s daughters. After him my stepson sauntered in, a glass of red wine in his hand. He caught my eye and smiled lazily at me. He made his way to the chair next to his sisters. They hissed something at him and he laughed.

  The chairs were quickly filled by some of Robert’s family. Most of whom I had never met. Last to arrive was Ivan. He did not take a chair but closed the doors and stood just inside them. I saw him nod at the solicitor.

  Nathen cleared his throat.

  ‘Well, looks like everyone is here,’ he began. ‘Here is the last will and testament of Robert James Maxwell.’

  He picked up the document and began to read it.

  ‘I, Robert James Maxwell, Barrington House, Bedfordshire, England, make oath and say as follows:

  For a long time, the words the solicitor was reading seemed like wind in the trees. A rustle. I heard a gasp of surprise and then a grateful sniff from the housekeeper and I vaguely heard the butler’s name mentioned. Of course, he made no discernable show of joy.

  One by one the drone of the solicitor’s voice referred to the relatives I did not even know existed. I only pulled out of my daze when I saw Dr. Jensen jump up from his chair.

  ‘After twenty years. After all I did for him,’ he spat. Shaking his head in disgust he stalked out of the room. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that Robert had not rewarded him. He was so loyal to Robert. I frowned wondering why Robert had done that to him. To the best of my knowledge Robert never once mentioned that he did not intend to properly reward him. The door slammed.

  I looked at my stepchildren. Their eyebrows were raised and they were exchanging surprised glances with each other.

  The solicitor cleared his throat.

  I started listening carefully. The next person was Rosalind. The solicitor read out the stipulation that Robert’s trust would pay her a lump sum settlement of a quarter of million and twenty thousand pounds monthly for life when she interrupted him furiously.

  ‘Twenty thousand pounds per month? Is this a joke?’

  The solicitor looked up, his face impassive. ‘Mrs. Montgomery, please be assured that everything you are hearing is the last will and testament of your father. I have arranged for a copy of the will to be couriered to you.’

  She jerked her chin towards him. ‘I’m not staying for this farce. I’ll contest this. It is perfectly obvious that he was not of sound mind.’ She turned towards me, her eyes burning with pure hatred. God! She looked as mad as a mule chewing on bumble bees. She stood and began to walk away, but then changed her mind and headed towards me. She stood over me. ‘Well,
well, how clever you have been,’ she shrieked.

  I said nothing. My face was flaming with embarrassment. Everybody was looking at us.

  ‘You think you’ve won? You think you’ve got it all?’ she spat viciously.

  ‘I haven’t got it all,’ I said softly.

  ‘He left crumbs for us, his blood children, and the big prize for his trailer park child bride.’

  She swung her hand suddenly and it was so quick I did not have time to move my head, but the blow never came. I turned my head and Ivan had her hand in his grip. His face was like stone. She twisted her head and looked at him, her chest heaving with fury. ‘Stay out of this. You’re not even part of this family.’

  ‘That’s my ward,’ he bit out. ‘I’ve been entrusted with her well-being.’

  ‘Let go of my arm,’ she gritted.

  He released her arm. ‘Don’t force me to take an injunction out on you.’

  ‘She cheated him. He was ill,’ she cried.

  ‘He wasn’t ill, Rosalind. You may have been able to make that argument if you had not tried to have him declared incompetent six months ago, but he passed the battery of tests your team of doctors had run with flying colors.’

  ‘He became more ill after that.’

  ‘He wrote his will two years ago.’

  She frowned and then gasped. ‘As soon as he met her.’ She looked down at me and screeched, ‘What did you do to him, you little conniving bitch?’

  ‘That’s enough, Rosalind. Your husband is waiting outside. You should go home.’ Ivan’s voice was so cold and hard I jumped.

  ‘This is not the end of it,’ she promised before she stalked off. Bianca ran after her, but Dorian remained to hear that he too had been left exactly the same as Rosalind. A lifelong income of twenty thousand pounds and a quarter of a million pounds.

  He turned to look at me and sardonically raised his empty glass as if in a toast. I looked away.

  Then it was Ivan’s turn, and I was utterly surprised to find that there was no money for him at all. Not even a small token sum. All he had been left was a painting that he admired as a child.

  After Ivan it was my turn.

  The solicitor confirmed what Robert had told me. I had been given everything else. The entire Maxwell fortune.

  CHAPTER 6

  Tawny Maxwell

  The wake was a great success. It was exactly how Robert wanted it, with a sumptuous spread of food, champagne, singers and even fire-eaters performing on the snow covered grounds.

  In all the gaiety, music and people, I suddenly realized that I couldn’t feel Robert anymore. This was his house and this was a wake for him, but his spirit seemed to be nowhere.

  Stifling a desire to tell everyone to go home, I slipped out of the reception rooms filled with people and walked to his library. I paused for a moment before I opened the tall doors and went in. Immediately I was engulfed by the familiar smell of the room. Before he became truly ill this room used to smell of the tobacco from his pipe. Now it just smelt of old leather and that cream he used to use.

  Inhaling deeply, I walked into the cold darkness. I felt as if the past lived in that darkness and I could simply walk into it. I journeyed deeper into the room and went up to his desk. I let my fingers trail on the polished wood surface. I switched on the table lamp. It threw a pool of yellow light on the polished wood and I thought of Robert sitting here, his head bowed, reading.

  ‘Oh, Robert,’ I breathed.

  ‘Hello, Mother,’ a voice drawled from the doorway.

  My spine stiffened. I turned around slowly.

  Dorian was standing at the doorway holding a glass of red wine. His handsome face was slightly flushed, his lips red, and his hair a little mussed. In the half-light he looked as beautiful as one of those Greek statues, but from the way he held the glass, with it slightly tipped to one side, told me he was more than a little drunk.

  ‘I’m not your mother,’ I said coldly.

  He took a sip of wine. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t hold that against you,’ he said slowly.

  I hoped my face did not show the disgust I felt. It never failed to amaze me how little of Robert remained in his children.

  ‘What do you want, Dorian?’ My voice sounded harsh in the empty room.

  He strolled towards me. Something about his unnaturally casual stance made me shudder. He stopped in front of me and the desire to take a step back was almost overpowering, but I held my ground.

  I was in my home. He was the intruder. What could he do to me? One scream and a whole host of people would come running. He was just trying to scare me, but there was nothing to fear. I was only helpless when my nail polish was wet, and even then I could still pull a trigger if I had to and he was just a spoilt rich kid. I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had succeeded in rattling me.

  ‘Do you know I’ve always wanted to fuck you?’ he said conversationally.

  I stared at him steadily, my face wiped of all expression. Robert always said that the art of war was to never show your hand. Always take your enemy by surprise.

  ‘Well, I’ve never wanted to fuck you,’ I replied with elaborate politeness.

  He took a long slow sip of his drink and regarded me quizzically over the rim of his glass. ‘Hmmm … how could he possibly have satisfied you?’ he wondered aloud.

  I smiled coldly. ‘I loved him.’

  Amusement flashed in his eyes. ‘Come on, the sex was shit though, wasn’t it?’

  I smiled slowly. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t remember ever complaining.’

  ‘If you think that kinky bastard’s flaccid dick was good …’

  I laughed throatily. ‘Poor, spoilt Dorian. So many women at his command, but all the twisted fucker wants is to do his stepmother.’

  His eyes glittered. ‘Pull your claws back in, Mother. There’s no need for them anymore. You worked hard and fast. One moment you were polishing his nails, the next you were polishing his knob. You’ve won. Hands fucking down. You’ve got it all. No one can take it away from you now.’ A bitter smile shaped his mouth. He took a step closer. ‘You don’t even have to pretend anymore. So come on, at least give yourself a little victory fuck. You know you’re gasping for it.’

  ‘If you lay one finger on me—’

  ‘So you cheat me out of my inheritance and you won’t even put out. Even the lowliest hooker will let you fuck her after she’s taken your money.’

  ‘It was not your money,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. It was your father’s money and he could have left it to a cat’s home if he so desired.’

  ‘But he didn’t,’ he whispered. ‘He left it all to you.’

  ‘Lucky me.’

  ‘So how about the victory fuck then?’

  ‘No, thank you. Now how about you get out of this library and go enjoy the party. Your father would have wanted it.’

  His reply was to let his glass drop. It shattered at our feet, the wine splashing up to my calves. He used that moment when I was distracted and surprised to grab me and swoop down on my startled mouth. His lips crushed, his teeth hurt, and the fumes from the red wine choked me. He ground his erect cock into my horrified body. I raised my hands and tried to push him, but he was surprisingly strong.

  ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ A voice like whiplash rang around the room.

  Dorian released me unhurriedly and turned to look at his stepbrother insolently.

  ‘Do you mind? I’m saying hello to my dear stepmother.’

  My shocked gaze flew towards Ivan and found his blazing eyes fixed on me. The gray was like molten silver. Oh my god. What a terrible mess! My hand went up to my throbbing mouth. My knees felt like jelly, but most of all I felt soiled by the accusing look in Ivan’s eyes. He thought I was a willing participant.

  Feeling sick to my stomach, I stepped away from Dorian, but like a fool I stumbled slightly and from the corner of m
y eyes I could see Ivan make an involuntary movement as if to help me, but I placed my palms on the desk and stopped myself from falling.

  ‘I should get back to the party,’ I said shakily to no one and, without looking directly at either man, I walked past both. When I was outside the room I leaned against the wall and heard Ivan say in a hard voice, ‘As a matter of fact I do mind.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be greedy, brother. I’m perfectly willing to share. You can have your turn next.’

  ‘You’re drunk.’ Ivan’s voice was hard and cold.

  ‘And you’re a hypocrite. Don’t tell me you’re not lusting after her because I’ve seen the way you watch her.’

  ‘Go home, Dorian.’ Ivan’s voice sounded exasperated.

  ‘Always the spoilsport,’ Dorian said with a laugh.

  CHAPTER 7

  Tawny Maxwell

  God! How I wished I had slapped him hard enough to make his arrogant, drunken head reel. It was a tangled web I was caught in, but I remembered my grandma’s words, In life you have to walk like you’re on a runway.

  Dorian’s ugly words were still ringing in my ears, but with my head held high, I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other and started walking back towards the sound of laughter and music. Oh, Robert. Why on earth did you think I could do this?

  I ordered a glass of brandy from a waiter and drank it really quickly. The fiery liquid spread a warm glow into my numb limbs. I felt myself relaxing. I had not eaten anything for hours and the alcohol was making me feel almost floaty. The tension seeped away. I looked around at the room full of strangers. Soon this would be over. All these people would be gone and I would be alone. I could make my plans then.

  At the other end of the room I saw that Ivan had returned to the gathering. He was coming towards me when the woman he had come with waylaid him. Thank god. A waiter approached me with a tray of food and I picked something up and popped it into my mouth. It tasted of nothing. A thin, long-faced woman in a dark gray suit came up to me. Her lips were thin and painted blood-red and her eyes were watery and pale. I had no idea who she was. I smiled.