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