Time Fuse. Penny Jordan
about retirement, but he’s still a powerhouse of activity; he’s one of our foremost QCs, with young Piers looking likely to follow in his footsteps. Now there’s a man to reckon with; an excellent defence counsel, but positively lethal in prosecution. He seems to possess an intuition that leads him right to a person’s Achilles heel. He’s as close to Sir Gerald as a son—perhaps closer; in fact I’d say after his mother his uncle is the only other person he’s fond enough of to allow him to sway his judgment. Gerald stepped in and took over the role of surrogate father when his own died. His sister Dulcie was widowed very young. Piers will be taking over from his uncle when Gerald finally retires.’
‘Wait until you meet him,’ Susan Seaton enthused, her eyes sparkling. ‘He is quite devastatingly attractive.’
‘I met him today.’ Selina said it quietly, her head bent over her soup plate. Over her head the older couple exchanged glances.
‘You don’t sound very impressed. He’s a very able, almost an inspired barrister.’
‘He struck me as being rather conceited and sexually domineering,’ Selina said coolly, ‘but it hardly matters what I think. After all we’re not likely to come into much contact with one another.’
‘Don’t be so sure,’ the Judge cautioned her. ‘Gerald relies a good deal on Piers, and since he’s training him to take over from him, I suspect you might find you see quite a lot of him.’
The thought was extremely unpalatable. She had disliked the man on sight, Selina admitted; something about him was as abrasive to her personality as being rubbed with sandpaper; something over and above the fact that he belonged to a type of male animal she most disliked. There had been an instant awareness between them that she couldn’t deny, a look in his eyes that cautioned her to tread carefully, causing her to seethe with resentment that it should be so.
TO celebrate his birthday the Judge had booked a table at one of London’s more exclusive restaurants. Selina left her own small flat in plenty of time to reach the Seaton’s house at the appointed time. Her dress was a plain slip of cream silk she had bought in Brown’s sale. High-necked and long-sleeved, she considered it a suitable addition to her wardrobe, without realising that the silk moved with her as she walked, caressing her elegant body with a sensuality that very few men could remain unaware of. She simply saw it as the right sort of dress to wear out to dinner. She liked good clothes and wore them well; choosing them for elegance and wearability rather than sexual appeal, not knowing that the body they clothed was sexual enticement all by itself. Having taught herself to clamp down on any sexual urges she might feel almost from childhood, Selina was blind to them in others. If she ever happened to catch a man looking at her, studying her, she would look back in an icy disdain that normally made him retreat. The first attempt any male escort made to touch her was always the last. Sex was a weapon that could inflict terrible wounds on the innocent as well as the guilty and it was one she herself would never descend to using. She might be her mother’s daughter, but she would never be branded as she had been. She would succeed without using her body; without betraying her principles. She had to.
The restaurant was busy; a sea of unfamiliar faces; the table to which the Seatons and Selina were shown was slightly secluded from the others.
Susan Seaton ordered her food with relish. In many ways Selina almost envied Susan. She was a happy, contented woman who had devoted her life to her husband and family and who had been repaid in turn by their love and protection.
Beyond the tables and diners there was a small dance floor. Music was provided by an immaculately dinner-suited pianist.
‘My, it quite takes me back,’ Susan sighed nostalgically as they waited for their food. ‘Do you remember, Henry, when we used to go to the Savoy? You took me there for our first wedding anniversary.’
‘And you were sick,’ the Judge smiled.
‘And we both thought it must have been something I’d eaten, until we discovered that I was carrying John.’
The Seatons had three children and several grandchildren. At the weekend they would be driving down to their eldest daughter’s for a family celebration. Selina closed her mind against the thought of it. Family occasions were something that belonged to other people. They had no place in her life.
They were halfway through their meal when the Judge put down his knife and fork and said mildly, ‘Good heavens, talk about coincidences. There’s Piers Gresham.’
‘Where?’ His wife craned her head to look. ‘Who’s that with him?’ she asked. ‘Do you recognise her?’
The Judge shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea who she is.’
Selina glanced up from her food and glanced briefly at the other couple—Piers Gresham was seated several tables away facing her. All she could see of his female companion was her back view, but that was enough for Selina to grimace slightly. The other woman was wearing a dress that revealed most of her tanned back; a dark fall of hair brushing her neck. She was dressed in a way designed to catch a man’s eye, and as always Selina felt her muscles tighten at the sight of such open sexuality. It offended her and she shrank from it, unaware that her distaste was mirrored in her face or that she was being observed. Her reactions to other people’s sexuality always distressed Selina; she knew deep down inside herself they were a legacy from what she had endured as a child; from knowing that she was the fruit of a union that had been motivated on one side by sexual greed and on the other by social avarice but knowing the reason for her reactions did not help her to come to terms with them.
Piers Gresham had obviously seen them. When they had finished eating he came across to their table, urbane and charming as he chatted to the Judge and his wife, but his eyes were constantly assessing Selina, his scrutiny of her making her tense and uneasy.
‘You and Selina met this morning, I believe,’ the Judge said turning to draw her into the conversation. ‘Your uncle is gaining a very valuable aide in her.’
‘I’m sure he is. Perhaps you’d care to dance with me, Selina, and we could get to know one another a little better?’
Other couples were already dancing and the Seatons obviously saw nothing untoward in the invitation because they were both smiling expectantly at her. Across the room her eyes slid to the dark-haired girl waiting at the table and a fierce surge of anger swept over her. Who did he think he was? Some sort of irresistible God who had merely to speak to have women worshipping at his feet? It didn’t strike her that her reaction was wildly illogical; she was possessed by some elemental surge of emotion that warned her that this man was dangerous and to be repudiated at all costs. Without stopping to weigh her words, she said coldly, ‘I’d rather not if you don’t mind.’ Her eyes flicked over to the girl waiting for him, and so she missed the glint of cold anger in his eyes, ‘After all, our relationship is going to be professional rather than social, and I prefer to have things plain from the start. It makes for a much less complicated life.’ She looked straight at him as she delivered her cool words, caught off-guard by the depth of anger she saw in his eyes.
‘That was rather over the top wasn’t it?’ her employer remarked when Piers had gone.
Trying not to flush at the faint criticism in his voice Selina shrugged. ‘He only asked me out of politeness. He already had someone to dance with.’
‘Even so, you rejected him extremely pointedly,’ the Judge told her. ‘No man likes being rejected, Selina,’ he told her gently, ‘especially not in public. Be very careful, my dear. He could make an extremely powerful enemy.’
‘Because I refused to dance with him?’ Selina injected a note of acid scorn into her voice. ‘Wouldn’t that be rather small-minded?’
‘He’s a man, my dear,’ the Judge told her wryly, ‘and we males are notoriously vulnerable where our egos are concerned. We weren’t the only ones to hear you refuse him,’ he added gently, ‘and you must admit that as a put down it was decidedly strong.’
Not wanting to admit even to herself that she had been betrayed into hasty