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was no answer. She groaned
    silently as she replaced the receiver. She would have to try
    later. When she got back to her room, Celia was stretched on the
    bed waiting for her. She was smiling, her eyes sparkling with a
    mixture of amusement and malice. 'Well, sweetie, you're quite a
    dark horse aren't you— but rather silly to think you could ever
    keep such a delectable man all to yourself. It was just as well I
    was still in Switzerland while it was all going on, or I might
    have tried to steal him myself. And he wouldn't have got away
    from me so easily.' She gave a little laugh. 'He could hardly
    believe we were cousins.' Laura picked up her comb again, forcing
    suddenly nerveless fingers back to their former task. She said
    tonelessly, 'Well, he wouldn't be the first to find it amazing
    that we're related.' 'That's true,' Celia agreed limpidly. 'But
    he's by far the most interesting to date.' She stretched like a
    little cat. 'Poor Laura. It was being rather optimistic, sweetie,
    to think you could ever hold his interest for long.' Laura's
    fingers gripped the edge of the dressing table. She was used to
    Celia, she thought, inured to the kind of jibes she excelled at,
    but for the first time she was tempted to rake her nails down
    that lovely, contemptuous face. She said with no particular
    expression, 'Well, I didn't labour under that particular
    misapprehension for very long.' Celia giggled. 'No, indeed. It
    can't be many men who are unfaithful to their wives during the
    first year of marriage. Your little honeymoon didn't last long at
    all.' She paused, her eyes fixed almost avidly on Laura's
    mirrored reflection. 'And did you really not know about the
    Tristan Construction connection? Don't you think the whole
    thing's quite fascinating?' Laura shrugged, carelessly she hoped.
    'It's hardly any of my concern. We're divorced ,remember?' 'How
    could I forget?' Celia sounded gloating. 'And I'm glad you had
    the sense to let him go without a struggle, Laura. It's never
    very dignified fighting a battle you simply aren't capable of
    winning.' Laura dug a last hairpin viciously into the top-knot
    she'd created, almost transfixing her scalp in the process.
    'Frankly, I don't think that aspect ever occurred to me.' She was
    surprised to realise this was the truth. She'd been too hurt, too
    shattered by Jason's infidelity to want to do anything but crawl
    away and lick the wounds he'd inflicted. To somehow learn to
    endure the blow she'd suffered to her new-found, fragile
    confidence in her womanhood. 'It would have occurred to me,'
    Celia said complacently. 'And I think—yes, I really do think
    I'd have fought tooth and nail—and won. But that's the
    difference between us, isn't it, sweetie?' 'One of them,
    certainly,' Laura returned. Dissatisfied, she pulled the pins out
    of her tawny hair and let it spill round her face again. 'So, I
    can take it you won't start fighting now?' Celia lifted a hand
    and studied its perfectly manicured nails. T don't think I
    understand.' Laura picked up her jar of moisturiser and began to
    apply it sparingly to her face and throat. 'Then think.' Celia's
    voice sounded almost strident suddenly. 'He doesn't belong to you
    anymore, as you've just admitted. In fact it's a moot point
    whether he ever actually belonged to you at all, even if you did
    wangle a wedding ring out of him. So, I take it you'll have no
    real objection if I have him instead now?' Laura's mouth felt so
    dry, she felt as if her lips might crack open and bleed as she
    forced the words between them. 'No, I've no reason, and certainly
    no right to object, but I should warn you your father may well
    feel very differently. He never liked Jason or approved of him,
    and I don't think he'll care for the fact that you've invited him
    here this evening.' Celia smiled. 'He may not have liked the
    penniless artist who married his little niece for her money,
    then— done her wrong, as the saying is. But the Jason