The Prisoner(48)

In the room upstairs, I’m trembling. It’s over. They’re releasing Ned, he isn’t going to be killed. But I’ll be safe, because he truly believes that I’m dead. My shooting wasn’t about playing a trick on him, as I’d feared.

My abductor has done what I asked.





CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR


PAST

Ned was in my bedroom. He had brought me a supper tray. I refused to be scared of him, so I kept my eyes fixed on him as he put it down on the table. His face was a mess; he still had the marks from when I’d attacked him three days before, and I was glad.

“Make sure you eat it this time,” he said. “I don’t want you looking emaciated when we announce our separation.”

I didn’t answer, just kept on staring at him. There was something else on his face, a sort of wariness. It told me he was living in fear of his life, and I was glad about that too. Whatever he had coming to him, he deserved it.

There was a call on the intercom and he jumped so badly I nearly laughed out loud. He hurried from the bedroom, leaving the door open in his haste, and I imagined him hovering at the top of the stairs, waiting for his new security guard to open the front door below. I had heard the new guard’s voice in the hall the day after Lukas’s lunch, and I’d felt a rush of anger at the way Hunter had been replaced so quickly.

“I’m Carl, sir,” I heard the security guard saying to the guest at the door. “I’m Mr. Hawthorpe’s new hire.”

“Then please tell my son I would like to see him.”

I heard Ned clattering down the stairs.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” I heard him asking.

I leapt from the bed and went to crouch at the top of the stairs.

“What’s happened to your face?” Jethro Hawthorpe barked. Again, he was immaculately dressed, in contrast to Ned, who looked disheveled in his jeans and half-unbuttoned shirt. “Have you been in a fight?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing to me. Where have you been? I came to the house on Tuesday and there was no one here. And why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

“I’ve been busy. Look, Dad, why are you here?”

“In your study,” Jethro Hawthorpe said, glancing at the security guard who was still in the hall. He was dressed all in black, his head was shaved, his arms held rigid at his sides. I just had time to get a glimpse of his face before he turned toward the door.

I wasn’t sure why I thought I might be able to appeal to Ned’s father for help. Maybe it was because each time I’d heard him speaking to Ned, he’d been angry. I waited until the security guard had moved outside, to his post on the front step, and ran down the stairs to the entrance hall. I faltered at the start of the hallway leading to Ned’s study; then, fighting down a rush of tears, I hurried to the library, my head up, my eyes away from the floor where Lina had lain. Closing the door behind me, I moved silently to the double doors that led to the study.

“Where’s Hunter?” Jethro Hawthorpe was asking. “Why have you got a new man on the door?”

“I had to get rid of him,” Ned said. “He wasn’t doing his job properly. Carl is his replacement.” There was a pause. “I’ll ask you again, why are you here?”

“Because of this ridiculous marriage of yours. Why did you do it? I want the truth.”

“You needn’t worry, we’re separating.”

There was a snort of disgust. “Already? After what—little more than two weeks?”

“Alright,” Ned said. “You want the truth, here it is. I’d been seeing her for a while, and I took her to Las Vegas because she said she’d never been on a plane before and I felt sorry for her. Then, while we were there, she told me she was pregnant, and yeah, it was a shock but I thought I should do the right thing by her and my future child. So, I married her.”

“What?” Jethro Hawthorpe sounded as if he was about to have a heart attack. “She’s pregnant?”

“No,” Ned said. “She tricked me, Dad, she tricked me into marrying her. She was after my money, so she made up a story about being pregnant.” His voice rose to a whine. “Do you see now, do you see what it’s like for me?”

“Are you serious?” Jethro Hawthorpe thundered. “You let yourself be taken in by some slip of a girl?”

Ned’s voice hardened. “You’re missing the point. When I tell the press why we’re separating, they’ll realize what it’s been like for me, they’ll see that women will try anything to get money out of me, whether it’s pretending I sexually assaulted them, or pretending that they’re pregnant. Don’t you see, that accusation against me—it will go away. The press won’t be gunning for me anymore, they’ll be sympathetic.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth to smother my gasp of shock. Even though I had guessed it, to hear Ned actually admit that he used me to protect himself against Justine’s accusation of sexual assault, to hear his vicious lie about my character, was brutal.

“You did sort out a postnup with Paul Carr, I hope?” Jethro Hawthorpe said.

“Yes, of course I did, I’m not stupid.”

“How much? How much did she want?”