Unnatural Relations (Lust and Lies Series, Book 1) (8 page)

This was hardly going the way Barbara had hoped, but she remained positive that the relationship with her future in-laws would settle into something they could all live with.

Howard returned to Cambridge that Sunday night and called her as usual when he got in. But he didn't call at the regular time on Monday or Tuesday, so she phoned his apartment and left a message on his answering machine. She was somewhat worried when she got home and he hadn't left a return message on her machine, but she didn't want to call and wake him at such a late hour.

By the time she had to leave for work on Thursday afternoon and still hadn't heard from him, she placed a call to his home in Boston. Chesterfield stiffly informed her that no one was available to speak to her, nor was he able to give her any further information, but that he would take her name and number... as though she were a total stranger.

At two in the morning, she tried Howard's apartment again and left another message on his machine. Bewildered and on the verge of panic, she got Russ Latham's number from information and kept dialing it the next day until she reached him.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Russ, but I'm really worried about Howard. Have you seen or heard from him in the last few days?"

The acid in her stomach churned as several seconds passed before he spoke. "I... I heard he was up here Monday."

"You heard? You mean, like the servant grapevine?"

"Yeah."

"Russ, please help me. I don't know what's going on. He hasn't called, and Chesterfield wouldn't tell me anything. Has something happened to Howard?" She heard him sigh and held her own breath as she waited for him to speak again.

"Look, it's really not my place—"

"Dammit, Russ! Tell me what you know or I'm going to fly through this telephone line and choke it out of you!"

"Easy, babe. I just didn't want to pass on gossip that I'm not sure about. I heard the limo was loaded with luggage Tuesday morning, and Howard and his mother left together."

"Left? I don't understand. What could possibly be going on that he wouldn't let me know where he was?"

"I have no idea, but why don't you give me your number, and I'll call if I can find anything out for you."

The next day, she was debating whether to call him again when someone knocked at her door. Through the peephole she recognized the attorney, Simon Decker, and only her desperation to hear news of Howard made her invite the unlikable man into her apartment. It didn't compel her to be gracious, however.

"I won't take up much of your time, Miss Mancuso," he said in a bored tone as soon as he came in. "I believe this will explain everything." He took a sheet of paper out of his briefcase and handed it to her.

One glance told her it was an agreement of some kind. Howard had already signed it and there was a line for her signature below his. Her first thought was that it was a prenuptial agreement, which would have been annoying enough under the circumstances, but as she began to read the typed words, she realized it was much worse than that.

The brief document officially terminated the engagement to be married between Barbara Mancuso and Howard Hamilton IV and absolved them each from any and all promises made or implied. As recompense for her cooperation in this matter, she was to retain possession of all gifts, including the diamond ring.

She had never seen anything so insane in her life. Furious, she tore the paper in half, balled up the pieces, and threw them at the trash basket across the room. "You didn't actually expect me to sign that, did you? Where is he? Why hasn't he contacted me himself?"

"There wasn't time. It was necessary for him to escort his mother to a clinic in Switzerland for emergency treatment of her heart condition. I assumed you would recognize his signature, but I brought along some other documents he signed in the past, if you wish to make a comparison."

He pulled an envelope out of his briefcase and held it out to her. "Inside are copies of correspondence to his parents and credit card receipts which bear his signature. I also took the precaution of including another signed copy of the agreement just in case something should happen to the first one I showed you."

Barbara had the strongest urge to take the envelope and use it to slap the snide expression off his face, but she forced herself to behave in a civilized manner. "Get out, Mr. Decker. I will not believe the engagement is broken until I hear it from Howard directly."

Decker shook his head in disgust and set the envelope on the table. "I'll give you two weeks to think about it. Then you will either sign the agreement or legal action will be taken to repossess the items mentioned."

Barbara's only response was to slam the apartment door behind him. For some time she paced back and forth, venting her anger into the empty room. What colossal nerve! Who was responsible? Howard's father? His mother? Or both? Did Howard even know what they were up to?

She wanted badly to believe this was all a dirty trick to get rid of her. Howard could have been in an accident, lying in a coma in a hospital somewhere, unaware that his parents were taking advantage of his inability to defy them. Surely only unconsciousness would prevent him from calling her. His signature could have been forged.

She picked the crumpled paper up off the floor and smoothed out both halves on the table. It sure looked like Howard's signature. Was it possible that he actually,
willingly
agreed to this absurdity? Could he really be so spineless that his parents could have convinced him to go along with it in spite of everything they meant to each other?

An image of Howard crouched beside his "stricken" mother flashed into her mind. But then she erased it by recalling his promise not to allow the woman to manipulate him like that ever again.

Her eye latched on to the phrase in the agreement about his being absolved from any and all promises, and her doubts resurfaced. She made sure the torn agreement made it into the trash can this time and was about to do the same with the envelope, but something held her back. Without knowing why, she stuck it in a dresser drawer, where she wouldn't have to look at it, but could if she wanted to.

She managed to get to work, but nothing seemed real. The hours she and Howard had spent together kept replaying in her head. Sleep refused to come that night, or the next, or the next. She called the mansion twice and begged to speak to Mr. Hamilton, but was only referred to Simon Decker's office. She tried to reach Russ several times, but he was never in.

Three days after Decker's visit, she called him and promised to sign the agreement if he would give her a number in Switzerland where she could contact Howard. She just wanted a few minutes of his time, to hear him tell her in his own words that it was over. But Decker insisted there were no phones where Howard and Mrs. Hamilton were staying. She should sign the agreement and get on with her life.

The problem with that recommendation was that in the blink of an eye, a life with Howard had become the only life she wanted to get on with. None of the things that had been important up to a month ago made her feel the way he did. That's what true love was supposed to be like, and now that she had discovered it, "getting on with her life" without that love seemed impossible.

She had never experienced a severe heartbreak before and had no idea how to fight it. Each day she felt herself sinking lower and caring less about everything—her appearance, her apartment, her job all suffered from her indifference. She couldn't even scrape up the energy to go to the theater to work on the new set as she had promised she would. It simply didn't interest her anymore.

Depression and fatigue had clouded her mind so thoroughly, she didn't immediately recognize Russ when he showed up at her door.

"You look like hell," he told her bluntly, then opened his arms to offer a hug if she needed one.

And, boy, did she ever. Even the smell of cigarette smoke on his shirt somehow comforted her, as it took her back to the pleasant hours she and Howard had spent with him in his bungalow. Before she could stop herself, she was sobbing uncontrollably.

"It's okay, babe," Russ murmured soothingly. "Let it out. I understand." He held her and stroked her back until only a few sniffles were left. "I'll get you a tissue." He gently eased her down onto a chair and went to the bathroom. He was back in an instant with the whole box and, without discussing it, pulled her up from the chair long enough to seat himself, then brought her back down on his lap.

Though Russ was only trying to comfort her, all Barbara could think of was how she and Howard had sat cuddled in this same chair, and she burst into tears again. "I'm s-s-sorry. I c-c-can't help it."

He wiped her cheek with a tissue then held it to her nose. "Blow. C'mon, take a big breath and blow your nose for Uncle Russ."

For the first time in a week, her mouth turned up at the corners.
"Uncle
Russ? Does my mother know about you?"

"You mean she never mentioned me?
Hmmph
. I'll have to have a talk with her at the next family reunion."

Barbara took the tissue from him, blew her nose then got another one to wipe her face. "Gawd, I needed that." She got off his lap and threw away the used tissues. "How did you—" Her unfinished question hung in the air as she caught sight of the colorful bruise surrounding his left eye. "Wow. What's the other guy look like?"

When he realized what she was talking about, his fingers carefully touched his cheekbone and he snorted. "It was even dumber than getting in a fight. I stepped on a rake and the handle flew up and practically knocked me out."

Barbara clucked her tongue and frowned sympathetically, but there was something odd in his voice and the way he examined his knuckles instead of looking at her that made her think he was lying about what had actually happened. Since it really wasn't her business, however, she went back to her earlier thought.

"How did you know where I lived?"

"I told you I'd see what I could find out for you. Apparently the Hamiltons' attorney, Simon Decker, heard I was asking questions and he came to see me."

The mere mention of that man's name made Barbara's stomach queasy. She sat down on the bed to hear what Russ had come to tell her. "Go on. Whatever it is, I want to hear it. I'll be okay now."

He hesitated, then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees to deliver the final blow. "Howie signed that agreement Decker showed you. I didn't actually see him put his name on it but from everything I found out, I have no doubt he signed it and left the country with the queen mother. I also have no doubt he's feeling guilty as sin about it. But, hey, nobody in the world has a bigger guilt complex than old Howie. Mummy did one hell of a number on him."

By taking a slow breath, Barbara was able to hold down the nausea that had been plaguing her since the day Howard dropped out of her life. "How did she do it, Russ? What could she possibly have said to turn him against me?"

"From what I heard, it was the old man who did the convincing. And what he said was loud enough for several of the servants to hear. Stuff about responsibilities and duty and the importance of choosing a wife who would be a help rather than a... what did he call you... a
hindrance
—someone more like Edith Hamilton. I understand he referred to you as—Never mind. You don't need to hear that."

"Yes, I do," she said in a flat tone. "I need to hear everything."

Russ grimaced, but went on. "He said you were suitable mistress material and that Howard could keep you as a diversion as long as he wished, but under no circumstances would you be welcomed back into their home as if you were their equal. I gather the lecture took him most of the way but a convenient heart attack on his mother's part pushed their precious prince back into his usual position as royal wimp. Apparently, Mrs. H. only pretended to make wedding plans to avoid an
unpleasant scene."

He let that sink in for a moment while he went to sit beside her and patted her hand. "I'm really sorry, babe. I can't tell you how many fights we had over that kind of shit when we were kids, but he was always too big for me to beat any sense into him." He winced and touched his cheekbone again, as though referring to a beating made his bruise ache.

Having seen an exhibition of Howard's weakness with her own eyes, she couldn't help but believe what Russ was telling her. She felt the knife sink a little deeper in her heart. "You said Decker went to see you. Why?"

"Yeah. What an asshole. He heard about how you and I had hit it off—he winked when he said that—and told me I should talk to you to convince you that you should forget Howard. He even offered to pay me my Christmas bonus early if I could and, I quote, redirect your attentions to me and get you to sign that agreement. He's the one who gave me your address. As soon as I could this morning, I borrowed Pop's truck and drove down here to talk to you in person."

"Well, whatever got you here, I am glad you came. I guess I knew the truth, deep down inside, but I needed someone else, someone I could trust, to say it out loud." She straightened her spine and took another deep cleansing breath. "I'll be okay. Maybe not today or tomorrow but soon. Just out of curiosity, how did Decker figure you could convince me to sign the agreement?"

Russ laughed. "I asked him the same thing. He said he'd heard that women find me rather charming. He suggested I come here on the pretense of being sympathetic. Then while I'm consoling you over your loss of Howard, I get into your pants. How am I doing so far?"