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What You Made Me. PENNY JORDANЧитать онлайн книгу.

What You Made Me - PENNY  JORDAN


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      ‘Garston,’ Scott supplied sardonically, glancing coldly at Philippa. ‘I see you haven’t told him much about that part of your life which preceded his birth, Philippa… I wonder why?’

      ‘You said you swerved to avoid Simon, which means he didn’t do the damage to your car,’ Philippa interrupted, without answering.

      ‘Not physically perhaps,’ Scott agreed, ‘but I don’t doubt that any court would lay the blame at his feet, as well as taking a pretty dim view of the fact that he was riding the machine without the benefit of a licence and trespassing on private land. It’s going to cost several thousand pounds to put the damage right.’

      Philippa’s mouth went dry. Several thousand pounds, and how Scott would delight in making her pay, in extracting every last penny. He had sworn vengeance on her, eleven years ago, and she had laughed it aside, never dreaming that the future might hold this. Was he remembering that hot summer afternoon, when she told him she was leaving?

      She looked at him and knew that he was. Once she had thought she loved him and once too he had thought he loved her, but it had all been a long time ago, an adolescent romance for her, a summer affair for him, both of them poised on the brink of other things with a summer to spare, but she had hurt his pride when she threw his love back in his face, and it showed in his eyes that he had not forgiven her.

      ‘Scott.…’ She took a step towards him and saw his instant recoil and knew that the plea which had been on her lips to let the past lie could not be uttered. He wanted it to remain alive; he wanted to punish her, and could she really blame him? She had told him she loved him and then she had gone to tell him that she had made a mistake and that she loved someone else. He had every right to resent, perhaps even hate her, whilst she.…

      ‘Mum.…’ She came out of her thoughts to find Simon watching her. Sometimes he saw too much and worried her with his maturity.

      ‘Go upstairs, Simon,’ she told him. ‘You still haven’t packed, and I want to leave as soon as possible.’

      When he had gone she faced Scott, neither asking him to come in or preventing him from doing so. This house which had been her aunt’s belonged to the estate and would revert to it with her death, and Scott had every right to walk into it with or without her permission.

      ‘I’m sorry about your car.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Simon doesn’t tell lies, and we haven’t been here long enough for him to know that the estate is private.…’

      ‘What are you trying to say? That he was misled? He’s how old? Twelve? Thirteen?’

      ‘Ten.’ Red flags of colour sprang into her cheeks. Scott knew exactly how old Simon was, damn him.

      ‘He looks much older. Our magistrates are rather old-fashioned around here. They take a dim view of damage to private property. As well as the damage to the car there’ll probably be a hefty fine to pay, always supposing of course that they accept this as a first offence.’

      First offence! Philippa’s body went cold. ‘It was an accident,’ she said desperately. ‘You.…’

      ‘Can you prove that? I could claim that it was malicious damage. I thought you were never going to come back here, Philippa. I thought your lover was going to take you away… somewhere glamorous.… The south of France I believe you said.… How long did it take him to realise what a cheat you were? Not long, to judge from the speed with which he left you. He was back at Woolverton by Christmas and married the following spring to Mary Tatlow. Your aunt was very disappointed in you, Philippa. She did say that she never wanted to see you again if I remember correctly.’

      ‘I was her only relative, when she died I.…’

      ‘Came back out of a sense of loyalty to her, is that what you’re trying to say?’ he jeered, anger splintering through the cold façade he had adopted towards her. ‘Don’t try to make me believe that. I know exactly how much your loyalty is worth.…’

      ‘Scott, I.…’

      ‘You what? Made a mistake? When did you discover that? When Geoff refused to marry you despite the fact that you were carrying his bastard child? No wonder you left so quickly. It was quite a nine-day wonder, I can tell you, especially as he left at the same time. “There’s someone else,” you told me in that cool, butter wouldn’t melt voice. “I can’t marry you, Scott… I love someone else…” and then you left… cool as the proverbial cucumber… after you told me you were carrying his child. Have you any idea what you did to me? Have you?’ he demanded savagely… ‘I’d defied my grandfather for you. I was even prepared to leave Garston… to give up everything for you. But I wasn’t enough for you, was I? As soon as you found out that my grandfather would disinherit me if we married, you dropped me flat and took up with Geoff Rivers. Did you tell him that I was the one who had your virginity or didn’t he care? He ran out on you in the end though, didn’t he, Philippa? He left you, carrying his child … alone… and you’ll never know just how much pleasure knowing that gave me.…’

      ‘I think I can guess.’ She sounded calm but she had gone paper white. The force of his anger pounded against her in waves, battering against her defences, forcing her to remember things she would rather forget; that final scene with him; the pain that followed.…

      ‘Yes, you always were quite quick on the uptake.… So quick that I still find it hard to understand why you ever let me make love to you in the first place. If you’d still been a virgin you might have got more out of Geoff than a bastard child… as it was, you’d have been hard put to prove which of us was the father.’

      ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ She could feel hysteria building up inside her, an aching, panicky pain she remembered from long ago and which she had kept deliberately at bay in the years that followed.

      ‘Then what do you want to talk about? How you’re going to pay for the repairs to my car? My car, Philippa, not Computex’s.… Oh yes, Computex belongs to me. I made good after all you see.… You should have stuck with me; despite being disinherited I made it after all. My godfather helped me, and with that and a large slice of good luck I managed to hold on to Garston. Just think if you hadn’t run out on me you’d be mistress of us both now… Garston and me… I always did wonder which of us meant the most to you.…’

      ‘Neither.’

      ‘No, of course not. I was forgetting about Geoff. How easily you deceived me.… Did you enjoy it, you bitch, letting me think you loved me when all the time…?’

      ‘Scott… about your car.’ She wet her lips nerving herself for the admission she had to make. ‘I’m afraid that I… I just don’t have that sort of money.…’

      ‘How very unfortunate for you.… So… what do you suggest I do? Simply wipe it off—put it down to “experience”?’ He shook his head, baring his teeth slightly in a vulpine grimace. ‘You’ve already cost me far too much under that heading. ‘Oh, no,’ he said softly, ‘this time I’m going to do some recouping. You made a laughing stock out of me eleven years ago, Philippa, and now it’s my turn to turn the screw a little.’

      ‘Simon! You can’t punish him because.…’

      ‘Who said anything about punishing the boy? It’s you I want to punish, Philippa. You who’s going to pay, and if you can’t pay in cash then you’re going to have to pay in kind, as they say.’

      A kind of numb terror seemed to hold her in its grip, a complete inability to reason logically, a primeval dread that made it impossible for her to shake off the spell Scott’s voice was weaving round her. All she knew was that Scott had the power to hurt her son, and that somehow she must stop him from doing so no matter what the cost to herself.

      ‘Scott, please.…’

      ‘Please what? Spare your son? Very well… but only at a price, Philippa.’

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘You


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