Deceived. Sara Craven

      CHAPTER ONE

      LYDIE went up the stairs to the gallery two at a time, the plastic dress carrier bumping against her legs as she ran.

      As she pushed open the door, Nell, her partner, turned with an interrogative smile from the ceramics display she was dusting. ‘Well?’

      Lydie flourished the pastel-striped carrier. ‘Mission accomplished.’

      ‘And at the eleventh hour by the sound of it.’ Nell paused. ‘Your mother’s telephoned three times in the past hour, each call more agitated than the last.’

      ‘Austin’s birthday party always affects her like this.’ Lydie wrinkled her nose. ‘I expect the caterers have brought the wrong-shaped canapes.’

      ‘Actually, it sounded rather more serious than that,’ said Nell. ‘She was in such a state, she actually forgot to snub me. Maybe you’d better ring her.’

      Lydie shook her head. ‘The crisis can wait till I get home, by which time it will probably be over,’ she said drily. ‘Sometimes Mama finds the role of Mrs Austin Benedict rather cramping, so when the chance of injecting some extra drama comes along she plays it for all she’s worth’

      ‘Well, you know her better than I do,’ Nell said lightly. She nodded at the carrier. ‘Going to show me your costume for tonight’s mammoth production?’

      Lydie hesitated. ‘I’ve got an even better idea. Change your mind and come to the party as my guest,’ she urged.

      Nell shook her head. ‘Can’t be done, love.’

      ‘But how the hell are you and Jon going to make up your quarrel if you don’t see each other?’ Lydie demanded on a note of exasperation.

      ‘We haven’t quarrelled,’ Nell said patiently. ‘We’ve just put our engagement on hold while Jon decides what to do with his life.’

      ‘In other words, he’s to give up his job at Benco Mill.’ Lydie’s face sobered. ‘I don’t know if that’s possible, Nell.’

      ‘I think it has to be,’ Nell said gently. She was a tall girl with a serene face and brown hair gathered into a thick plait. ‘He’s an artist, Lydie. He doesn’t belong at Benco and you know it.’

      Lydie bit her lip. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know it. But you don’t realise the pressure he’s under...’

      ‘Oh, but I do,’ Nell said quietly. ‘None better. But Jon’s got to decide whether to fight it or let himself be dragged into some dead-end future where he’ll never be happy or fulfilled.’ Her smile was small and wintry. ‘And if he settles for that he’s not the man for me.’

      There was an unhappy silence.

      In the eighteen months since they’d started the gallery together Lydie had realised more and more the quiet strength of will which existed behind Nell’s laid-back manner. She’d been delighted when she and Jon had begun seeing each other. Jon had dated a lot of girls in his time, none of them seriously. Now, for the first time, Lydie had seen her brother’s fickle attention focused and concentrated, watched him mature and grow as never before under Nell’s calm tutelage.

      Not that it had been roses all the way, she admitted wryly. Nell was gifted and hard-working, and between the pair of them the gallery was managing to pay its way, but her friend had neither the money nor the social background to make her a suitable wife for Debra Benedict’s son. As her mother had made clear from their first meeting.

      ‘That dreadful girl, wandering around like some kind of hippy,’ had been her icy verdict. ‘If you had to start a business at all, Lydie, couldn’t you have found someone at least presentable as your partner?’

      ‘Nell asked me to go into the gallery with her, not the other way round,’ Lydie had reminded her levelly.

      ‘It’s all the fault of that art college,’ Mrs Benedict had gone on fretfully. ‘I knew it was a mistake to let you go there.’

      It was probably true, Lydie acknowledged ruefully. Jon should have been the one to receive the formal art training, and she should have taken the degree in business