Читать книгу A Very Public Affair - Sally Wentworth, Sally Wentworth - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN Clare walked into the room she felt all the eyes turn on her, heard the sudden lapse in the conversation. Chin high, she resolutely ignored it and walked up to the director of the auction house.

‘Clare. So pleased you were able to come.’ He shook her hand, his manner pleasant enough, but she noticed the speculative look in his eyes. She encountered the same look, or something very near it, on the faces of the other people who were gathered in the large room, people she had previously regarded as friends and colleagues. But now, since that damning piece about her in all the tabloids, their manner towards her had subtly changed—especially that of the men.

It had taken some courage to come tonight. Perhaps it would have been easier if it had just been people she knew, but this evening the auction house was sponsoring a major charity auction in aid of a London hospital for children. As one of their leading experts on art deco and art nouveau, Clare was expected to attend, and it would have been cowardice not to come. So, much as she would have liked to bury herself at home, Clare had put on her newest cocktail dress, stitched a smile on her face and here she was. Let them talk about her. So what? She could take it But she was furious on Toby’s behalf; already he was being teased at school about that damn lawsuit.

She took a glass of champagne and mingled with her fellow experts, trying to keep her manner as calm and natural as she could. But half an hour later the double doors of the salon were thrown open and the first of the guests arrived: the organisers of the occasion, rich society women and their husbands. They were followed by celebrities from all walks of life: the theatre, business, politics—everyone who wanted to see and be seen in this exclusive circle. As one of the hosts, Clare was kept busy, mingling with the guests, thanking those who had made donations to the charity, ignoring the small, knowing smiles when people recognised her. But her cheeks flushed when she saw the heads of two women close together and heard one passing on the gossip. ‘Didn’t you know? That’s the girl Jack Straker had an affair with. And there’s a child involved, evidently. It was in all the papers.’

Quickly Clare moved away, cursing her bad luck. There had been no real reason—except for her terrorstricken reaction—for Jack to suspect about Toby from that one glimpse he’d had of him in the car a couple of months ago. But he had. And it had taken him no time at all to track her down, and then look up Toby’s birth certificate. But when he’d tried to contact her she’d returned none of his phone calls, hadn’t answered his letters and had refused to let him in when he had called at the flat. But then he’d brought the lawsuit, so she’d had to take notice of that.

Clare turned towards the door. She’d done enough; no one would notice if she left now. A newcomer had arrived and she found herself gazing at the one man she didn’t want to see—at Jack Straker. He took a purposeful step towards her but Clare. quickly went to join a small group gathered round the most famous guest, a minor royal. The director good-naturedly presented her, and Clare took good care to stay within the group until the auction started a short time later and everyone went to their seats.

She sat on a spare chair at the end of a row, so that Jack had no chance of coming near her. Already people had noticed that he was there too, and were nudging their friends, whispering the news. Not that they were interested in Clare particularly; she was a comparatively small fish in a big pool. But Jack was famous—a shark who could devour every other fish for breakfast. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Clare saw him take a seat on the other side of the room. He looked towards her, his expression deeply sardonic, and she hastily shifted her gaze to the front—but her chin came up, set and determined. There was no way she was going to let Jack have a part in Toby’s life. Not after the way he’d treated her, used her.

The auction began and her thoughts drifted, away from that warm room with its bejewelled women and evening-suited men, back to the coldest winter’s night she’d ever known...