Читать книгу The Pregnancy Contract - Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 9

“You what?”

He owned the house? How could that be? The house had been built by her forebears in the mid-1800s. Passed on, generation by generation. Had Wade somehow finagled the property from her father while he was weakened by his illness? It seemed unlike him, but what else was she to think? His voice broke through her chaotic thoughts.

“Look, now probably isn’t the best time to go into it. It’s been a tough day all round. We can discuss this tomorrow.”

“Like hell,” she countered. “We can darn well discuss this right here, right now.”

“If you insist,” Wade said, closing the distance between them and gesturing toward the library. “Care to take a seat?”

With tension vibrating through every nerve in her body, Piper preceded him back into the room. She threw herself into the chair she’d only recently vacated, watching Wade as he lowered himself into his with far more elegance and grace than she’d exhibited. It only served to rankle even more.

“So, tell me. How is it you’ve come to be the owner of my father’s house, and his before him, and his bef—”

Wade cut in. “Don’t get melodramatic on me, Piper. It won’t work.”

Melodramatic? He thought that was melodramatic? That was nothing compared to how she felt right now. But before she could speak again, Wade continued.

“Your father and I came to a financial arrangement early on in his illness. The doctors here could offer little hope and he wanted to embark on some radical alternative therapy being offered overseas.”

“What kind of arrangement?” she demanded. “And why on earth did he have to come to any kind of arrangement, anyway? Our family has always had money.”

“Had being the operative word,” Wade said, lifting his eyes to clash with hers.

“What? You’re blaming me? I have my own trust fund. I was never a drain on my father’s finances.”

Wade’s lips thinned and she saw a muscle clench in his jaw before he pushed a hand through his dark brown hair, sending the short cut into charming disarray. Despite her anger, her fingers itched to smooth his hair down—to feel if its texture was as smooth as she remembered it to be. Piper curled her fingers into her palms and squeezed tightly, ridding herself of the urge as quickly as it had surfaced. This wasn’t the time to be thinking of any kind of touching.

“Not everything is about you, Piper. When you calm down, you’ll see that what we did was supposed to be for the best, at the time.”

“At the time? Explain it to me.”

“Rex was single-minded about beating the disease and wouldn’t take no for an answer, not even when his situation was very clearly laid out to him by his doctors. He was determined to fight, regardless of the cost—and the cost was very high. I’ve no idea what rock you’ve been hiding under for the past eight years but there has been a global recession out there. Our business was hit just as hard as everyone else’s. Despite everything, there was a stage where we were bleeding money and Rex used a lot of his own funds to shore that up.”

“You didn’t use yours?” she asked pointedly.

“He wouldn’t let me. Mitchell Exports was always his baby, you know that.”

She probably knew it better than anyone. She’d always known that Rex’s devotion to his business came well before his devotion to her.

“So he needed money for this treatment?” she probed.

“Yes, and he wouldn’t take the money from me, even though I offered it freely. He was, however, happy to enter into a loan agreement with me, registering a mortgage in my name over the property.”

“But this place is worth millions.”

“He was very determined to live, Piper. He was prepared to pay whatever it took to beat the disease. At that stage, he never believed for a minute that he wouldn’t live to pay me back.”

“And he knew you already loved the property and would look after it.”

Wade nodded slowly. “It was a more palatable solution for him than putting it on the open market to raise the funds, and seeing the land be gobbled up by developers, or risking borrowing the money through some financial institution and watching it go in a mortgagee sale if the treatment failed. When he knew he was going to die, he signed the property over to me in its entirety, provided he had a lifetime right to stay here. I had no problem with that.”

Piper blinked back a new rush of tears. What Wade had said all sounded plausible. She knew how much her father had trusted Wade. Moreover, she knew—just as her father had known—how hard Wade’s upbringing had been, how much he had wanted to prove he was better than his roots. If he’d been given the chance to demonstrate his friendship to Rex while simultaneously establishing himself in both the home and the business he’d always admired, then of course Wade had taken it. He was right to have taken it. But knowing that didn’t take away the sick sense of loss Piper felt at the evidence that her father had given his entire legacy away to someone other than her.

If she’d been more determined to prove to her father that she was just as good as the son he’d always dreamed of having, if she’d stood by his side through the hard times instead of running away as soon as she didn’t get her way, maybe she’d have been able to help him. But with her having remained overseas for as long as she had, often without any contact until she’d run out of money, again, and needed another advance from her funds, it was no wonder her father had sought a suitable custodian not only for his business but also for the house.

It didn’t make it hurt any less, though. She’d never known another home and now she couldn’t even call it hers anymore. Hopelessness hit her with a vengeance. Here she was, twenty-eight years old, no fixed abode, no job and no prospects. Sure, she still had her trust fund, but she didn’t want to dip into that unless absolutely necessary. What on earth was she going to do?

“I meant what I said before, Piper,” Wade said, his voice breaking into her tortured thoughts. “Rex asked me to look out for you. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.”

As long as she needed? How was she to know how long that was? She’d come back to New Zealand, back home, to restore the relationships she’d damaged so very badly with her selfish decisions and past behaviors. The past four years, volunteering with aid relief in less privileged countries, had been a major eye-opener. One that had systematically changed her focus and made her realize just how empty her life had been and how much she continued to owe the people who’d been a part of it. People who she’d only later realized had tried to give her the love and stability she’d always craved. People she’d cast off in her anger and hurt for not loving her the way she’d wanted, oblivious to the fact that she was hurting them with her actions, too. People like her father, and Wade. “Thank you,” she said softly.

What else was there to say? She was at his mercy. He had every right to turn her out of the house.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll say good-night,” Wade answered.

He rose from his seat and started to leave the room, hesitating a moment at the door as if he had something more to say. But then, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he continued into the hallway.

Around her, Piper heard the wooden timbers of the hundred-and-sixty-year-old home settle in the cooling night air. A sound she’d never even stopped to listen to before, yet a sound that was a solid reminder of all who’d been before her and left their mark on her world. Their expectations lay heavy in the atmosphere that filled the room. What mark had she left?

The emptiness around her invaded the hollows of her body and echoed through to her soul.

Nothing. She’d left nothing.

She drew a shaky breath deep into her lungs. Then another. She’d made a conscious choice to change her life. No one ever said it was going to be easy or that she’d have all the things at her disposal that she’d always taken for granted. Maybe this was one of the lessons she needed to learn along the way. Take nothing, and no one, for granted.

Piper moved down the hallway, her bare feet making no sound on the faded carpet runner that lined the polished wooden floor. She hesitated outside the morning room, unsure of what she’d find there. What remnants of her father’s illness and care from during his last days would linger? And what of the hospital bed and equipment Wade had said they’d set up in here?

She wasn’t surprised he’d chosen this room. It had purportedly been her mother’s favorite. Not that she remembered her mother beyond a vague sense of being enveloped in soft arms and being showered with butterfly kisses. Sometimes, as a child, she’d come in here and curl up on a chair with her eyes shut tight—trying to gain a sense of the woman who’d borne her. But try as she might, she had never felt any more than that elusive memory.

Her hand hovered over the brass doorknob until with a sudden resolution, she closed her fingers around the cold metal and gave it a twist. The door swung open before her revealing a room unchanged from the last time she’d seen it.

The chaise longue still resided in front of the French doors that opened onto the wraparound veranda. The side tables and comfortable furniture she remembered as far back as her childhood were all still there.

She sniffed the air carefully. No, not a hint of hospital or illness, or death, remained. It was as if her father had never been in here at all.

A solid lump of grief built in her throat as she stepped back and closed the door again. She desperately wanted some connection with him. Some proof that despite everything he’d still loved her.

Noises from the kitchen at the back of the house reminded her that Dexter and his wife were hard at work cleaning up after her father’s wake. She should go to them. Offer to help. But the need to be alone with her thoughts was stronger. She turned and made her way back along the hallway and then up the stairs that led to the bedrooms on the next floor.

Rex’s room had been at the opposite side of the house from hers. When her mother had died when Piper was three, he’d hired a nanny who’d slept in the room next to hers. But he’d kept his distance for many years, physically, emotionally and socially. It was only when she’d begun to bring certificates of achievement home from school that he’d really begun to acknowledge her existence, spurring her to do better, reach higher—whatever it took to garner his approval.

But that approval was always short-lived as his work took the bulk of his attention. She’d always wanted for him to see her as more than a child to be spoiled, her every whim indulged. She’d wanted him to acknowledge that she had a brain, that she could achieve, even that she might be worthy one day of working with him in the family business as he would have expected a son to do. Instead, no matter how high she flew academically, it was as if her achievements never really mattered to him. After that, behaving like the spoiled little princess he expected had become second nature—in fact, she’d almost turned it into an art form. For all the good it did her.

Piper bypassed her own room and headed toward the rooms that had been his. The door to his suite was open. She stepped into her father’s domain and was instantly enveloped by his personality. The room was neat and tidy, typical of the ordered way he’d liked things, but here and there were the memories she’d always associated with him. The books he had loved to read, the sweets he had kept in a porcelain jar beside the bed for “just in case.”

Pulling open his wardrobe, Piper was assailed with the faint reminder of the cologne he’d always worn. She reached for the dressing gown that hung on the hook on the back of the door and dragged it to her, burying her face in the velvet softness of the fabric and inhaling deeply.

“Is everything okay?”

She spun around to see Wade framed in the doorway, the light from the hall behind him, leaving his face in shadow. He looked as if he was in the process of getting undressed. Gone were his jacket and tie. His shirt buttons were now open halfway down his chest, his shirt untucked from the sharply creased trousers that encased his long legs, the cuffs undone and loose around his strong wrists.

Longing for what-might-have-been hit her in a surge of confused emotion. She shook her head slightly, trying to dislodge the sensations that clouded her mind. Comfort. She craved comfort, that most basic of needs. But she could no more ask that of Wade than she could ask for the moon, not after what had happened between them. Not when she still had so much making up to do. So much to prove—to him and to herself.

“I’m fine. Just …” What? It was impossible to put into words. Instead she settled for the benign. “I miss him. Why didn’t he give me the chance to come back earlier and say goodbye?”

In the doorway, Wade shifted on his feet. She sensed there was more he wanted to say but that he was holding back.

“Like I said before, he didn’t want you to have to go through it all. To have to watch him deteriorate. Maybe it was a bit of pride, too, wanting you to remember him as he was when you left rather than when he was so ill.”

“He never really expected me to come back, did he?”

Wade shook his head slightly. “No, I don’t think he ever did. Didn’t stop him wanting you here, though.”

The light from the hall shone into the room, bathing Piper in a stream of golden light. She looked so vulnerable there, holding her father’s robe to her as if it was some form of security blanket. As if it was the last remaining thing she had left in the world. Well, truth be told, it pretty much was. Still, she didn’t need to know that now. Time enough for that. Even he could see she was struggling with the reality of Rex’s death. Hell, he’d been here, through it all, and he still struggled.

He clamped down on the sympathy that came as naturally to him as breathing. The past few days he’d doled out his fair share to Rex’s friends and business associates. Offering solace to Piper should have been just one more drop in the bucket. But, he reminded himself, she’d made choices that made it difficult to dredge up any consolation for her. One choice in particular he could never forgive was that she’d chosen to end the life they’d created together before he’d ever known it had existed. He’d sworn she’d pay dearly for that choice. She owed him now in ways she couldn’t begin to imagine.

Even with that mental reminder, his hands itched to reach out to her, to touch her, comfort her. He’d been so in love with her once, and as angry as he still was with Piper, those old instincts dominated. Wade curled his hands into fists and thrust them inside his trouser pockets lest he give into them. He had no doubt she’d take what he offered—before throwing it right back in his face all over again.

She’d made it monumentally clear during their last bitter and very final argument, before she went overseas, that she needed nothing from him. Even her demeanor downstairs when she’d joined him in the library had been targeted to make him feel inferior, an outsider.

He leaned against the doorjamb, marshaling his thoughts and reminding himself that her vulnerability was little more than a facade. Piper Mitchell was more than capable of handling herself in any situation. She’d suckered him in once before and he’d vowed he would not be a fool twice over her.

He shook his head slightly to clear his mind of the errant thought. He’d been under a lot of pressure. That was all. He just needed time to get his bearings again, to sort through what still needed to be done about Rex’s estate and to put a lid on his grief until it no longer had the capacity to render him weak, or open to confusing thoughts about Piper.

Wade cleared the thickness in his throat and took one hand from his pocket and gestured toward the room.

“I’ve been charged with clearing out your father’s things. Do you want to help with that?”

She nodded, a mere incline of her head. The action typical Piper, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to give anyone her full attention. But in the gloom he heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a choked sob.

“Look, it’s been a tough day,” he continued. “Why don’t you head off to bed? There’s no hurry with your dad’s things.”

“Okay, but don’t get rid of anything before I can see it.”

Ah, so despite that faint wobble in her voice she was back to giving orders. That hadn’t taken long. “Sure,” he said, denuding his voice of its last threads of empathy. “By the way, I have an appointment with Rex’s lawyers in the morning for the official reading of the will—you should come along. I’m already conversant with its contents but you should probably take the opportunity to find out exactly how you’re placed.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Wade stepped aside as she approached, but Piper’s foot caught on the edge of the carpet square, making her stagger. Instinctively, as he had already done once today, he put out a hand to steady her, shifting his body to block her fall. Again, her weight bore against him, seeking support. She looked up at him, her eyes dull with sorrow.

“Thank you. I’m going to have to stop making a habit of this, aren’t I?”

“Might be an idea,” he conceded, even as his body warmed instantly to the feel of her.

He put his hands to her shoulders. It would be so easy to attempt to recapture that old spark simply by lowering his mouth to hers. Her lips were already parted on a hitched breath, their softness moist and enticing. Her pupils rapidly consuming the pale color of her irises.

The firm roundness of her breasts pressed against his chest and his body surged to aching life. Wade silently cursed himself for being all kinds of a fool. His hunger had been tamped down and controlled for far, far too long. Beneath his hands her body stiffened, freezing in response to his very obvious physical reaction to her nearness.

His hands tightened, his breath catching in his chest as he fought his demons. She had always been temptation incarnate. But he was stronger now. Stronger and more determined to succeed—in all things.

Even though his entire body pulsed with wanting her—wanting to push aside the shabby clothing she wore and to rediscover the creamy smoothness of her skin, the warm recesses of her body that held incalculable delight—he pushed her gently from him. It was sobering to realize that passion had threatened, albeit briefly, to blot out his every reasonable thought.

Piper pulled farther back, her arms still wrapped around that damn robe. It occurred to him that throughout their entire embrace, she hadn’t voluntarily touched him with any part of her body. He shoved one hand through his hair.

“So, until tomorrow then?” she said, the lightness in her voice sounding forced in the heavily charged air between them.

“Tomorrow?”

“The lawyer? What time should I be ready?”

“The appointment isn’t until midmorning. No need to rush.”

“Okay, I’ll probably see you at breakfast, then.”

She slipped past him and down the hall to her room. He watched her every step—the graceful posture, the gentle sway of her hips.

They said that revenge was a dish best served cold, but he preferred his steaming hot. Hot and sexy and totally satisfying on all counts. He would be vindicated. And, when the time was right, he would savor every moment.

In her room, Piper sat heavily onto her bed and raised her fingers to her lips. She’d been so sure he was going to kiss her. She’d have almost staked her life on it. The flare of desire in his eyes had been so endearingly familiar that it had shaken her to her core—had awakened her senses, her own needs—in a way she hadn’t experienced for a very long time.

She knew he’d wanted her—she’d felt the undeniable evidence against her. So what had made him stop? One minute he’d been conciliatory, the next cool and commanding and then he’d been on fire for her. A fire she’d all-too-readily reciprocated. Even now, her skin felt too tight. Her nerve endings too close to the surface. She pushed up from the bed and paced her room, suddenly filled with an excess of energy that begged for some form of release.

Who was she kidding? She knew exactly what form of release she craved. And with whom. But it wasn’t going to happen. Wade had always had the power to turn her inside out, right from the first time she’d laid eyes on him. The instant physical attraction had rapidly morphed into one that went infinitely deeper. She had no doubt they would be as compatible now as they’d been before, but she couldn’t allow herself to go down that path. It would undoubtedly lead to broken promises and broken hearts all over again and she had resolved to put things right when she came home. Put things right and prove herself to be the kind of person she most wanted to be. Not the selfish creature of the past who sought satisfaction for her every desire, but someone who could genuinely contribute to the world in which she lived and moved.

It hurt deep, deep down that she’d never be able to prove to her father that she was capable of being more than what he’d pigeonholed her to be. What she’d shamefully allowed herself to become in the face of his opposition to her gaining a career that could amount to something. He’d loved her, but he’d never had any understanding or appreciation for the person she had the potential to be. It was too late to show him otherwise. But she could prove it to herself.

She shook her head. How was she ever going to prove herself if she couldn’t control even her most basic urges around Wade?

Piper stopped pacing in front of the built-in bookcase that lined one wall of her room. It was still adorned with the things she’d grown up with. Her previous life had been sealed in a time capsule, waiting for her return. She looked around, seeing everything with new eyes.

Her gaze stopped on one of the collections of porcelain dolls her father had insisted on buying for her, but had never let her play with. What a perfect analogy for her life, she thought bitterly. Look but don’t touch. Learn, but whatever you do, don’t use that knowledge. Be beautiful, but don’t actually be anything.

She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Well, all that was going to change. As much as she’d loved her father, and had strived for his attention, she could see that they were equally to blame for her past behavior. But she had changed and she planned to continue to change and grow a whole lot more. Including going back to university and finishing her degree.

It had taken quite a bit to make her eventually grow up. Being overseas alone, facing her darkest days and subsequently her brightest moments as she’d reawakened to who she needed to be.

Still, she had to attend to her father’s estate first, and that meant getting up on time to see the lawyer tomorrow morning, which in turn meant getting a decent night’s sleep.

She went through the motions of getting ready for bed, finding solace in routine and joy in the things she used to take so much for granted. Simple things, like a tube of toothpaste, running water from a tap, a flush toilet. She laughed at her reflection in the mirror. Who’d have thought that Piper Mitchell would ever have been reduced to this? Finding joy in modern plumbing. Frankly, she didn’t care, not anymore.

The toll of the news she’d borne today, and the travel she’d undertaken to get here, swamped her and the lure of fresh clean sheets and a proper bed became stronger than she could resist.

The next morning, Piper woke as the sun began to filter through her window. To her surprise she had tears on her cheeks and her pillow was damp beneath her face. She’d been dreaming about her father and the sense of forever being left reaching out for him, yet not being accepted by him, still filled her. She swiped a hand across her face. Tears wouldn’t solve anything, she knew that with an entrenched awareness she’d learned the hard way. No matter the loss, you had to learn to get through it.

She rolled to the other side of her bed and stretched, luxuriating in the sensation of fine cotton sheeting against her bare skin. Her father’s robe was spread over the top of her bed and she grabbed it to her, pulling it on as she sat up and slipped from between the sheets to make her way into the adjoining bathroom.

Eschewing a shower for the decadence of a deep bath, she bent over and turned on the faucets. Watching the water fill in the ancient claw-footed tub gave her an illicit sense of pleasure. She would never take something like this for granted again. Despite everything that had happened since her return, it was so incredibly good to be home.

Hard on the heels of that thought came the reminder that the house was no longer her home. She was a guest here. Wade’s guest. The news had come as a shock last night and her reaction had been instinctive and out of sorts with her new resolve. She hoped that would be the last unpleasant surprise she’d have to bear.

She was in a painfully tenuous situation. She had no qualifications to speak of, unless bartering with local rebels or militia for medical supplies and trading with cash from her trust fund was anything worth mentioning. Nor did she now have a roof over her head to call her own.

Piper slipped the robe off her shoulders and, letting it drop to the floor behind her, stepped into the almost full bath. She sank into the water, letting its warmth seep into her skin all the way through to her bones. After the heat of some of the countries she’d lived in, she didn’t think she’d still crave warmth the way she did now. But with her father dead and her prospects perched on a very precarious ledge, the world around her felt very cold indeed.

Piper let her hair fall over the back of the bath and rested her head against the edge, closing her eyes and trying to concentrate only on the warmth and softness of the water enclosing her body. She’d found the exercise of isolating herself to be an invaluable tool in coping with some of the hardships she’d witnessed in the past few years, but for some reason she couldn’t find quite the degree of separation she needed now.

Where she was going to live, how she was to support herself, all took precedence over her relaxation ritual. It wasn’t as if she didn’t still have the trust fund her mother had left her, she rationalized. Her father had been angry with her when she’d gone overseas, especially when she’d tried to get between him and Wade, but he hadn’t cut her off completely. Whenever she’d applied for an advance from the funds she’d come into when she’d turned eighteen, the money had duly appeared wherever she’d needed it. By her reckoning she should still have sufficient capital left to get herself on her feet, certainly enough to finish the degree she’d partially completed before running away.

She grimaced. Running away sounded so infantile. And yet, her reactions had been those of a spoiled brat. She wasn’t proud of the person she’d been then. Not at all. But that was changing. Slowly, surely and in the right direction. And with the balance of her funds behind her, the rest would be a piece of cake.

She felt a pang of grief tug deep inside her. How she wished her father was still alive. Maybe he could finally have been proud of her, really proud. She missed him with a sorrow that went soul-deep. When she’d set out on the journey home, she’d been looking forward to seeing him again. She’d hoped with all her heart that today could be the first stage of a new relationship with her dad. One where he would finally see who she was and what she was capable of.

Well, she still hovered at the edge of that first stage. One she’d have to embark on for herself, not for anyone else. It was what she should have realized all along.

Piper pulled the plug on the bath and stepped out as the water swirled down the drain with a satisfying gurgle. She shook her head at the decadence of it. It would make better sense to find some way to utilize the waste water from this sort of thing on the property. Maybe she could make some suggestions to Wade and see what he thought. He’d probably have a hard time believing she could even care about something like waste water.

Piper dried herself off and padded naked into her bedroom. She extracted some clean underwear from her drawer, a small puzzled frown fracturing her brow when she couldn’t find the stuff she’d brought in her backpack. The pack itself had been emptied at some stage yesterday, its clothing contents now nowhere to be found. Maybe Mrs. Dexter had taken it all to be washed, she thought. She wondered what the housekeeper would think of the wardrobe that consisted mainly of jeans, camo-patterned trousers and an array of T-shirts that would probably better serve as polishing cloths than anything else.

She looked at the underwear she’d taken from the drawer. An exquisite shell pink, the matching bra and panties were a brand she’d never bought before, even though they were all in the size she’d worn before she went away. She slipped into the panties, thankful that at least they fit without threatening to fall off her hips, then adjusted the straps on the bra and started to put it on.

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. She’d lost weight in recent years. Hard work and a limited diet had a way of doing that. The bra, while beautiful, was far too big for her, even on the tightest fitting. She could pad it up, she supposed, but then what if something slid free while she was wearing it? No, far better to go without, she decided and turned to her old wardrobe for something to wear.

A swimming sense of déjà vu enveloped her as she opened the doors. There, arranged by color and functionality, hung every article of clothing she’d failed to pack and take away with her. According to the dry cleaning tags on the garments, everything had been freshened recently. But why, when no one knew when she was coming home?

Piper selected the least flippant items and pulled on a pair of charcoal gray trousers with a neat matching jacket that used to nip in perfectly at her waist. Eight years ago, it had been form-fitting enough to wear without a top beneath it, but it certainly wasn’t now. She flicked through the hangers until she found a crisp white blouse to team with it.

An old belt threaded through the loops in her trousers cinched them in a little tighter at her waist, and when Piper pulled on the jacket and studied her appearance, she thought she’d scrubbed up quite well—aside from the hair. She grabbed a black and white long silk scarf from her dresser and tied her dreads into an approximation of a ponytail before nodding at her reflection. Well enough to see the lawyer, anyway.

Her feet had always been long and narrow and she pulled on a pair of stocking socks before pushing her feet into a slim fitting pair of black patent pumps. No longer used to the heels, she teetered a little before regaining her composure. How had she ever walked in these things on a daily basis? she wondered as she made her way down the stairs.

Wade wasn’t in the breakfast room, nor the kitchen, when she got downstairs.

“Looking for Mr. Collins?” Mrs. Dexter said with a smile as she bustled about pouring a fresh cup of tea and placing it at Piper’s old place at the huge worn kitchen table.

“Yes, we have an appointment together this morning.”

“He had to get away early to the office. Some problem or other. He said if he couldn’t get back on time, he’d send a car for you so you could still meet with Mr. Chadwick in his rooms.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Piper fought back the unreasonable feeling of disappointment that he wasn’t here. He had a business to run so she could hardly expect him to wait upon her hand and foot. Strangely, though, she had been looking forward to his approval that she’d made an effort to “scrub up,” for want of a better term. Which reminded her. Her clothes.

“Dexie, can you tell me what you did with my clothing from my backpack?”

“Oh, that lot.” Mrs. Dexter wrinkled up her nose in her rosy cheeked face. “I gave it all to Dexter to incinerate. Your father would never have stood for you dressing like that.”

Piper bit back the retort that her father hadn’t had the right to dictate her appearance for many years now. Swallowing the words she’d wanted to say didn’t come easy. Those items of clothing were virtually all she’d had to her name in the way of physical possessions. She’d come back here to take control of her life and yet, even in something as simple as her clothing, she’d been railroaded.

“Besides,” the older woman continued, “you have a wardrobe full of beautiful things to wear. I must say, lovey, it’s wonderful to see you looking more your old self. Apart from the hair, that is.”

A wry smile formed at Piper’s lips. “You don’t like it?” she teased.

“Humph, as if Mr. Mitchell would ever have tolerated such a thing.”

Piper’s smile died on her face. No, her father wouldn’t have tolerated it. He wouldn’t have understood the sheer practicality of wearing her hair this way in the circumstances in which she’d lived. Now she was home she supposed she’d better do something about it, but first there was the appointment today to get through.

“Get through” being the operative words, she realized later that day as her father’s lawyer sat opposite her at his highly polished desk, a sobering expression on his face.

“What do you mean I have no money?” she demanded. “When I left, my trust fund was healthy. It had been operating since my mother’s death, earning interest all the way. Surely I didn’t spend it all?”

“No, Miss Mitchell, you didn’t. But you didn’t exactly use the funds wisely, or reinvest, either, did you?”

It felt as if she’d been victimized from the instant she’d arrived home. First Wade, then Dexie’s disapproval, and now this.

“They were mine to use,” she said, a defensive note in her voice.

“Of course, of course.” The old man made a shushing sound in a vain attempt to placate her.

But Piper would not be placated.

“So where is it?”

“It?”

“The money,” she clarified, holding onto her temper by a thread.

“You know that with your father as a Trustee, the funds were managed very carefully. Over the years he frequently diversified the investments, but as you must be aware, financial markets worldwide have been hit very hard. Even investments that appeared to be sound suffered, and you subsequently lost some rather large sums.”

Piper shook her head. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her father had always been the most prudent and cautious of investors.

“So, I have nothing?”

“I’m so very sorry.”

“But what about my father’s estate?”

“Miss Mitchell, what your father didn’t use to carry Mitchell Exports through some tough times, he used to fund alternative treatments for his illness. There really is very little left. The investment losses your fund endured hit him, also.”

Everything Wade had told her last night had been true. She wished she could blame him, hold him responsible for her father’s weak financial position at the time of his death, but it was clear Wade had conducted himself the same way he always had. With honor and loyalty to the man he revered above all others.

Mr. Chadwick continued, completely unaware of the turmoil in her mind. “I must say that Mr. Collins has been most benevolent. When he realized the situation your father was facing he personally acted to assist him. Rex was fortunate that Mr. Collins was compassionate enough to give him a lifetime right to reside in the house.”

The sick taste of bile rose in Piper’s throat.

Piper swallowed. “And my mother’s art collection? That should have been left to me in my father’s will. What has happened to that?”

At least if she had that, all was not lost. As much as she hated the idea of selling a single piece, she’d be able to liquidate some funds.

“All with Mr. Collins now. I understand the collection is on loan to the Sydney Art Gallery at the moment.”

“But it wasn’t my father’s to give. It was supposed to be mine.”

She fought to keep the panic from her voice. Without the collection, she really had nothing.

“Under the terms of your mother’s will, it was your father’s to dispose of at his discretion. While she stipulated her preference that it be given to you when you reached your majority, it was still left to your father to decide in the end. Some years ago, he mentioned to me that he had some concerns that you might feel compelled to break the collection up and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. Moreover, he wanted to be certain you were settled before entrusting it to you. In all fairness to your father, he honestly expected your trust fund to support you for your lifetime. Hardly anyone foresaw the long-term ramifications of the global financial crisis until it was too late.”

Piper slumped in the chair. Her life couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“There is one other thing,” the lawyer said carefully, making all the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Piper sat up. She didn’t like the way he’d prefaced what was coming next. There was something in his posture and tone that warned her that what she’d learned already was small-fry compared to what was coming next.

“Tell me,” she demanded. She may as well get it straight on the chin now.

“Your trust fund. With your withdrawals and the depreciation of the investments’ value over time, it became overdrawn. Mr. Collins had taken charge of your father’s affairs by that point, and personally advanced money to the fund to cover the shortfall when he was made aware of the situation.”

“Just how much money did he advance?”

The lawyer named a sum that caused black spots to swim before her eyes.

“So you’re saying he advanced several hundred thousand dollars to my trust fund?”

Wade had been the one responsible for the money she’d used to finance schools and health clinics, food and clothing and farm supplies in the counties she’d visited in the past four years? She was struck with an urgent need to understand the conditions of the loan and expressed as much to Mr. Chadwick.

“The loans were rather open-ended. As your trustee, your father entered into deeds acknowledging the debt between the fund and Mr. Collins. Obviously Mr. Collins has the right to recall those loans, with interest, at any time.”

“So no repayments have been made to date?”

“None, Mr. Collins hadn’t requested such repayment.”

“Not at all?”

She was confused. How could anyone afford to make such huge sums of money available like that and not expect something back in return?

“No, not at all.” Chadwick hesitated a moment, his mouth twisting into a moue of regret. “Until now.”

“Now?” she gasped. “He wants me to repay the debt now?”

“Yes, Miss Mitchell, I’m afraid so. And he has specified it must be repaid in full.”