Night Of Shame

Excerpt About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE EPILOGUE Copyright

“Tell me that desire isn’t crawling along your veins at this moment.”

He whispered to her in a low, wickedly seductive voice. “Tell me that you don’t want me to kiss you, caress you, make love to you now...here in this room...on this floor...in front of this fire. Tell me that you don’t want me, Judith. Tell me....”

About the Author

MIRANDA LEE is Australian, living near Sydney. Born and raised in the bush, she was boarding-school educated, and briefly pursued a classical music career before moving to Sydney and embracing the world of computers. Happily married, with three daughters, she began writing when family commitments kept her at home. She likes to create stories that are believable, modern, fast paced and sexy. Her interests include reading meaty sagas, doing word puzzles, gambling and going to the movies.

Night of Shame

Miranda Lee

CHAPTER ONE

I CAN’T possibly face him, Judith agonised, her eyes squeezing shut against the thought of seeing him again. Seven years might have passed, but she had never forgotten or forgiven, either herself or the perpetrator of her shame and guilt.

‘What ever possessed you to invite him?’ she cried, green eyes flying open. ‘Tonight is a prewedding party, not a business get-together.’

The tall man standing by the mantelpiece continued calmly smoking his pipe, one hand resting on the marble shelf.

‘Did you hear me, Raymond?’ Judith said sharply. ‘I asked you why you invited Alexander Fairchild.’

Raymond sighed patiently then sat down in his usual armchair beside the fireplace. Leaning forward, he slowly stoked the burning logs. Sparks shot up into the chimney. He didn’t look at her, just stared into the glowing embers.

‘Why shouldn’t I have invited him?’ he said at last in an irritatingly calm voice.

‘Because you hardly know him, for one thing! You only met at lunchtime.’

He looked up then, and shrugged. ‘What has that got to do with anything? Besides, how was I to know it would cause trouble? I had no idea you even knew the man.’

Judith wanted to scream. How could he sit there, treating her panic so casually? Couldn’t he see she was in danger of falling apart?

Judith strode towards his chair, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. ‘Uninvite him, Raymond,’ she said in a low, desperate voice. ‘Please. I beg of you.’

‘You still haven’t explained what you’ve got against the man. Or where and when you met.’

‘He’s a bastard,’ Judith stated agitatedly. ‘A rotten bastard!’

One of Raymond’s eyebrows shot up. ‘It’s not like you to swear, my dear. Now why, pray tell, do you call him such names? He seemed a decent chap to me.’

‘You don’t know the man. I do. And I really do not wish to discuss him. You’ll just have to take my word for it.’

She spun away, face flushed, heart racing.

My God, I’ll have to stop this, she thought frantically. Or crack up completely. I must pull myself together. It’s the shock, that’s all. Suddenly hearing his name after all these years, and, worse, the prospect of actually seeing him again.

The thought of spending even one moment in his company was too much to contemplate, let alone a whole evening.

‘I can’t uninvite him,’ Raymond stated matter-offactly. ‘I don’t know what hotel he’s staying at.’

Judith whirled back to face her fiancé. ‘Then I simply can’t go. I won’t be in the same room as that man, I tell you.’

Judith knew immediately she’d taken the wrong tack with Raymond over this issue. When his face hardened, she sank down in the chair opposite him, her eyes pained and pleading. ‘Can’t you say I’m not well?’

His return gaze carried exasperation. ‘That’s quite impossible, Judith. Margaret is giving this party for you!’

Judith detested conflict and open confrontation of any sort. But her nerves were wearing thin over the situation and she found herself giving vent to her feelings for Margaret for once.

‘No, she isn’t,’ she snapped. ‘She can’t stand a bar of me. She’s giving the party for you, Raymond, her beloved big brother.’

Raymond’s expression was one of impatience. ‘I know you two don’t exactly hit it off, but at least she’s trying.’

‘She certainly is. Very trying. She’s hated me from soon after I came here to nurse your mother.’

‘Really, Judith, how can you say that? Mother’s illness was a big strain on the whole family. If Margaret was a bit short with you sometimes, it was prompted by worry.’

Judith could not trust herself to answer, looking down at the rug to hide her frustration.

Short! Margaret had been downright hostile from the moment it had become apparent that Mrs Pascoll had taken a real fancy to her new nurse. Even Judith’s seven years of dedicated nursing and looking after Raymond’s increasingly frail mother hadn’t tempered the animosity from his sister.

When Mrs Pascoll had died a few months back, and Raymond had asked Judith to marry him, all hell had really broken loose. Admittedly, Judith herself had found his proposal a shock, so she could almost understand Margaret’s feelings on the matter.

Judith had refused at first, but Raymond had been persistent and persuasive. They liked each other, he’d argued. They liked doing the same quiet things: reading, music, movies, the theatre.

Romantic love, such as it was, was for teenagers, he’d pointed out sensibly. True love was based more on companionship than passion. They could grow to truly love each other once they were married. He was sure of it. He had also promised her at least one child—another winning argument with Judith. She would never have seriously considered a childless marriage. Not at her age.

Raymond’s wealth had not been a major factor in her decision at all, yet when she’d finally consented to his proposal his sister had accused her of being a fortune-hunter. It was ironic that Margaret herself had, the previous year, married a much younger Latin-lover type with more looks than money, the complete antithesis of Margaret, who had more money than looks. Though Margaret pretended to be happy with Mario, Judith was convinced Raymond’s sister was as miserable as ever.

Raymond’s most convincing argument for Judith’s marrying him, however, had been that she could keep her own bedroom. He was not a highly sexed man, he’d explained. Not sexless, mind. Just not one driven by carnal needs. He’d confessed to Judith that for some years he’d had an arrangement with a lady-friend of his, whom he visited every couple of weeks. They were not in love, he’d assured her, and he would naturally terminate this intimacy once he was an engaged man.

It suited Judith very well not to have a husband driven by carnal needs. That kind of passion was something she could well live without. It made her shudder just to think of it. All Judith wanted from life these days was a peaceful existence. The last thing she wanted was emotional upheaval and traumatic confrontations. But seeing Alex again would bring both!

‘This party Margaret’s throwing tonight,’ Raymond said, ‘is her way of holding out an olive branch to you, Judith. You must come,’ he ordered, ‘no matter what.’

She looked up and studied Raymond. He was leaning back in the bulky armchair, a quietly autocratic figure, his pipe resting in the corner of his mouth.

He was not a handsome man. His sandy hair was receding, his face was long, his nose sharp, his eyes pale grey and piercing. On either side of his mouth deep grooves ran from his cheeks to his chin.

Despite these unprepossessing physical features, however, Raymond exuded a certain attraction which had nothing to do with his looks. Perhaps it came from the power which went hand in hand with wealth. Raymond was a very rich man. He also had a strong and decisive character which Judith both appreciated and had learnt to rely upon.

‘You really can’t avoid the issue, Judith,’ he insisted logically. ‘Why, exactly, are you so upset at the prospect of meeting Alexander Fairchild again? And why do you call him a rotten bastard?’

Raymond removed his pipe and gazed steadily at her, waiting for an answer.

Judith was silent. She sat stiffly, shifting her eyes towards the fire to avoid his penetrating regard. The flames danced before her but she did not see them.

‘Were you lovers at some stage?’ he asked.

‘No!’ she denied hotly while throwing him an apprehensive glance.

‘There’s no need to shout. I don’t expect you to be a virgin, Judith, at the age of twenty-nine.’

Her blush took them both by surprise. She’d meant to tell Raymond; had been waiting for the right moment. But it hadn’t presented itself yet.

‘Good God,’ he muttered. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Judith’s chin lifted in an odd defiance. ‘Does it matter? I thought men of your generation liked their brides to be virgins on their wedding night. I mean...I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘To be honest, I’m more surprised than pleased. You’re such a good-looking woman. And you were engaged once before, weren’t you? And not to a man of my...er...generation. I always imagined most young couples slept together before they married these days.’

‘Well, Simon and I didn’t,’ she said quite sharply, piqued that Raymond seemed to be finding fault in her virginity. ‘Our courtship took place while he was in hospital, recovering after a car accident. By the time he was fit and well and able to make love, we were engaged, and I...I wanted to wait. It was only going to be for another short month and Simon said he didn’t mind. He said it would make our marriage all the more special.’

Tears pricked at her eyes as she remembered him saying that, and the warm, understanding kiss which had followed. She knew he’d been frustrated by then, but he’d been prepared to wait. She’d been the one who hadn’t been able to wait in the end.

And it had cost Simon his life.

That overwhelming sense of guilt swamped her, fiercer than it had been for years. Dear God, would she never forget? Or forgive herself?

One thing was for certain. She would never forgive Alexander Fairchild. The man was as good as guilty of murder in her opinion. She hated him with a passion, hated him for doing what he’d done to her, and to Simon.

A silence had fallen in the room, the only sound the flames crackling in the hearth.

‘You must have had some sort of relationship with Fairchild,’ Raymond resumed at last with relentless logic, ‘or he wouldn’t be able to turn you inside out like this.’

‘He was Simon’s best friend,’ she choked out, as though that explained everything.

‘So?’ Raymond was clearly puzzled. ‘That doesn’t make much sense, Judith. Look, I know you were engaged to this Simon person, and that he was killed in a motor accident a couple of days before your wedding. But what does Fairchild’s being his best friend have to do with that? Your fiancé was alone in the car, wasn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I don’t understand. Why don’t you try to make me understand, Judith?’

Shame compelled her to lie, plus the knowledge that Raymond would never understand or condone the truth. Not that she could blame him. She’d never understood or. condoned it herself.

‘Simon and Alexander had a violent argument that night,’ she explained, running her tongue over dry lips. ‘When Simon sped off crazily in the car, Alexander knew he was drunk and upset, but he...he didn’t try to stop him. He was directly responsible for the accident and Simon’s death, and I’ll never, ever forgive him!’

A frown creased Raymond’s high forehead. ‘What was the argument about?’

‘What?’

‘The argument between Fairchild and your fiancé.

What was it about?’

‘Oh...er...I don’t really know. There was a lot of shouting and a scuffle, then Simon drove off. What does it matter what it was about now? All I know is that Alexander was to blame for Simon’s death.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so! Why do you think I don’t want to go tonight? Why I can’t bear to be in the same room as him?’

Two totally exasperated eyes looked straight at her. ‘I never thought you were a fool, Judith, and I’m sure you’re not. I can well understand how distressed you must have been at the time of your fiancé’s death. But distress does have a way of distorting things in one’s mind. With the passing of the years, surely you can see now that Mr Fairchild was not to blame for the accident itself? A man is master of his own destiny. If your fiancé was drunk, he should have refrained from driving.’

Judith opened her mouth to protest but Raymond swept any objection aside.

‘Don’t forget how you originally met the man,’ he went on stolidly. ‘In hospital...after a car crash. Doesn’t sound like your Simon was the most sensible driver in the world. I think you’ve harboured an unfair grudge against Fairchild all these years, Judith, and it’s high time you put it aside.’

With a pompous flick of his wrist, Raymond checked the time on his wristwatch. ‘It is now six forty-three, my dear, and we are expected at eight. Let’s hear no more nonsense. Go and put on one of those glamorous gowns you’ve been buying lately. I want to be the envy of everyone there with my beautiful fiancée on my arm.’

Judith stared at Raymond. He actually meant it. He expected her to simply brush aside her distress as easily as he had and go to the party. He probably expected her to smile at Alexander and act as if nothing had ever happened between them.

He must have seen her shock for he suddenly leant forward and took her hands in his. ‘Come now, Judith, you can’t honestly expect me to ring Margaret up at the last minute and say you won’t be going. She would never understand.’

Judith nodded slowly. It was hopeless. She would have to go and that was all there was to it.

‘I am right, you know,’ Raymond insisted. ‘Your antagonism towards Fairchild is all out of proportion. Time has distorted things in your mind. When you see him again, you’ll recognise that. But if you find he still upsets you in any way, then simply avoid him. All I ask is that you be tactful. Now off you go like the sensible girl you are and get ready.’

Judith suppressed a sigh and rose automatically.

‘I’ll bet Fairchild has hardly given you a second thought in all this time,’ Raymond added with cold logic.

Those last words hit home, right to the core of her heart. He was right. No doubt Alexander hadn’t given her a second thought. She hadn’t been a real person to him, merely a weapon in his need for vengeance.

‘You’re quite right, Raymond,’ she said with a fierce hardening of her heart. ‘Quite right. Thank you for pointing that out to me.’

Judith turned and moved purposefully across the drawing room and out into the foyer, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

Damn you, Alexander Fairchild, she was thinking angrily. Why did you have to show up in my life again now? Now, when I’m on the verge of finally finding some happiness and peace of mind. Why couldn’t you have stayed in the past, a guilty ghost locked away for ever, together with my night of shame?

Fury and frustration carried Judith swiftly across the spacious foyer, but as she put her foot on the first step of the ornately carved staircase and her eyes lifted to follow the luxurious curve of peacock-blue carpet a disturbing memory struck. Her foot froze, her hand reaching out to curl tightly over the ornately carved knob at the bottom of the balustrade.

She’d been coming down such a staircase when she’d first seen him...

Judith shook herself violently. Her hand released its tormented hold and she continued her ascent, determined not to give in to the maudlin memories that had begun crowding around the edge of her mind. But it was difficult.

At the top of the staircase, she halted again, groaning as she realised the house itself was working against her. It kept reminding her of that other lavishly furnished house, the one to which Simon had taken her a week before their wedding.

Judith had known he came from a well-to-do farming family, but she still hadn’t been prepared for the splendour of his home, or the cool sophistication of his mother and sister. Everything had been so overwhelming that first day that she’d found herself acting far more gauchely than she ever had before. Tongue-tied, too.

Simon’s father had been quite nice to her, but his mother and sister had let her know, with cleverly disguised barbs, that they thought her highly unsuitable to be Simon’s wife. They’d also managed to make her feel hugely indebted to them for paying for the wedding, even though she hadn’t asked or expected them to. They’d insisted. Frankly, she would have much preferred a small, quiet ceremony in Shyness.

Judith had tried to dismiss their rudeness and cloak herself in Simon’s love, reminding herself constantly that she was marrying him, not his family, and they would live in Simon’s lovely little unit in Shyness, not out here in this daunting country mansion.

But then Alexander had arrived, and even the security blanket of her love for Simon had been snatched away. Judith could still remember walking down that staircase with its deep red carpet and the exquisite Chinese rug lying across the bottom.

She’d been putting her foot on that rug when the doorbell had rung. Not wanting to meet another new face that first day, she’d scuttled halfway back up the stairs before Simon’s voice had halted her mid-flight.

‘Where on earth are you running off to, Judith? That will probably be Alex. Wait on! Surely you want to meet our best man?’

She waited. Simon strode across the foyer to fling open the front door.

‘Alex! Great to see you again, old man. Come in, come in!’

Simon gave his friend a big bear hug, thumping him on the back. He was always like that. Warm. Affable. Not afraid to show his affection, like some men.

Alexander grimaced at first, as though he didn’t like being hugged. For a split second, he looked as if he would pull away, but then he glanced up over Simon’s shoulder and spotted Judith on the stairs.

He stared at her.

She stared right back, and her heart skittered to a faltering halt.

He wasn’t as handsome as Simon in the classical sense. His features were harsher, creating angles and shadows on his face which Judith found instantly, stunningly attractive. As dark as Simon was fair, Alexander’s ruggedly tanned face projected a masculine maturity which Simon’s pretty-boy looks lacked.

Simon had told her Alexander was the same age as himself—twenty-five—but he looked much older. There was a knowingness about his eyes as well, those penetratingly intelligent black eyes which rooted Judith to the spot on the stairs, seeming to see right into her soul—a soul which was in danger of damnation from the first moment they met.

His intense scrutiny seemed to go on for ever, yet it probably lasted only a few brief moments. It was long enough, however, for Judith to know that her love for Simon was a cruel illusion. Here was a man who could move her more with a look than her fiancé could with the most intimate of kisses.

When he finally looked away, Judith swayed, clutching wildly at the balustrade for support. She felt as if someone had stabbed her, so sharp was the constriction in her chest. A fierce flush spread over her cheeks, testimony to the overheated state of the blood which suddenly rushed through her veins.

‘Judith!’ Simon called. ‘Come down here and meet Alex. Yes, right now,’ he insisted when she hesitated in her fluster. ‘She’s a little shy, is my Judith,’ he explained to his silent friend. ‘But that’s why I love her so. No more blonde bimbos for me, Alex. I’m a changed man.’

How dreadful those next few days were. How confused she was. Simon was even more attentive and loving to her, and she simply could not bring herself to call off their engagement.

If only she had someone she could confide in...

But she was alone in Australia. Her family had emigrated from England when she was a child, but her older sister, Helen, had returned to England on a holiday and subsequently married there. When her father had died of a coronary two years ago, her mother had returned to London to live with Helen. She hadn’t had the money to fly over for the wedding. Besides, Helena had been eight months pregnant.

No, there was no one to confide in. No one to warn her that what she was feeling for Alexander Fairchild had brought down kings, and kingdoms. Only afterwards would Judith appreciate that mindless passion always exacted a price. At the time, she convinced herself that once the wedding was over and Alexander was out of their lives everything would be all right.

She did her best to keep out of his way that week, aware of the dangerous nature of her feelings, but he seemed to seek her out deliberately, as keen on her company as she was terrified of his. To give herself credit, she did make sure she was never alone with him, but that didn’t stop the longing. Or the dark desires. Her dreams were haunted by his presence, fiercely erotic dreams in which she went further than she’d gone with Simon. Much, much further.

Once and only once, Judith allowed herself the luxury of staring openly at him while he was deep in conversation with Simon’s sister. But, unexpectedly, Alexander suddenly glanced across the room and straight into her hungry gaze. She immediately wrenched her eyes away and fled the room, thoroughly ashamed of herself. Had he seen the lust lurking in her soul? she agonised. Had he seen the shameful truth?

Oh, yes, he’d seen, she soon accepted. And was already plotting how to use it for his own vicious ends.

‘Judith, what are you doing standing up there, staring into space?’ Raymond’s sharp words snapped her back to the present. ‘We’ll be late.’

Judith’s face betrayed nothing, but her heart was still thudding with her distressing memories. How on earth was she going to bear seeing that man again?

One look at the stern male face below made her see that she would simply have to see him. There was no other way out, unless she wanted to risk her relationship with Raymond.

Pride came to the rescue, demanding that she not let Alexander Fairchild destroy her life and her peace of mind a second time. Raymond was a good man and they would have a good marriage. If bells didn’t ring when he kissed her, then so much the better. Bells had certainly rung when Alexander had kissed her, but they’d never been going to turn into wedding bells. They’d tolled a different bell, leaving her to be crippled for years by guilt and shame.

‘I was just going,’ she told Raymond with surprising calm. ‘It won’t take me long to get ready.’

See, she told herself as she swept down the hallway and into her bedroom. You can handle this. You’re different now. You’re an adult, not some silly, impressionable young girl. He won’t get to you a second time. You simply won’t let him!

CHAPTER TWO

JUDITH’S bedroom was the last on the right-hand side of the upstairs hall. Its one large window looked out over the pool and showed a glimpse of Sydney Harbour through the tall trees which lined the back yard. The furniture in the room was dark and elegant, and of good quality walnut, the furnishings equally elegant, in rich cream and apricot colours.

Despite its sophisticated decor, it looked like a young girl’s room, for it was full of soft toys of every shape, colour and size. Most of them were bears, sitting in rows along the wall and on every available shelf. But there was also a pair of white rabbits perched on the armrests of the armchair under the window, and a huge pink elephant filling one corner. A long sausage dog called Woofa lay across the end of her bed, and a huge St Bernard called Berni stood guard next to the door.