A Grand Illusion Read online

  A Grand Illusion

  By

  Maura McGiveny

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  A GRAND ILLUSION

  Perhaps Jenna Caldwell had spoiled her selfish young sister Meg—but she had seen it as her duty to protect her. But now it had all resulted in Royce Drummond believing that Jenna was the mother of Meg's illegitimate baby— and despising her accordingly. Hadn't Jenna carried her unselfishness a little too far?

  Books you will enjoy

  by

  MAURA McGIVENY

  DUQUESA BY DEFAULT

  The imperious Duque Rafael de Santiago had helped Joanna when she was in great trouble, and taken her under his wing—but his price, it seemed, was to insist that she married his young brother Manuel. But Manuel had no wish to marry and instead tricked his brother into marrying Joanna himself. And what was poor Joanna supposed to be feeling meanwhile?

  First published 1983

  Australian copyright 1983

  Philippine copyright 1984

  This edition 1984

  © Maura McGiveny 1983

  ISBN 0 263 74513 9

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jenna finished the last line of the page she was typing and pulled the paper from her typewriter before glancing at the clock. In five more minutes another working day would be done. She rubbed the back of her neck and let a small tired sigh escape her.

  The other girls in the typing pool had finished at least fifteen minutes earlier and sat at their desks with their coats on, their faces freshly made up, their eyes on the clock. Talking back and forth, they were full of the latest gossip about the recently hired illustrator, but Jenna felt set apart from them somehow. Not that she wanted to be, it just always happened that way. Turning a deaf ear, she let the conversation wash over her as she began to straighten the pile of papers on her desk.

  'He's so gorgeous!' one of the girls gushed.

  'I hear he's a very eligible bachelor. Imagine, handsome and kind too,' someone else chimed in.

  Elaine, the girl whose desk was nearest Jenna's, smiled dreamily, her plump face glowing. 'I can't imagine going out with him. I'd probably be so tongue-tied, I'd just sit and look into his beautiful eyes all evening.' She laughed lightly. 'What would you do, Jenna?'

  She looked up at the mention of her name. 'Were you talking to me?'

  Elaine grimaced and then all the others started to laugh as they filed out of the room.

  'Isn't that just like her?'

  'I don't think she knows what's going on half the time.'

  'Chad Redwicke's been here a week already and she's the only one in the whole building who hasn't made a play for him…'

  Their voices drifted away, then there was only silence.

  Jenna straightened the cover on her typewriter with a sigh and reached in the bottom drawer for her handbag. She was buttoning her coat before she noticed the man standing in the doorway watching her.

  The girls were right. He was handsome. His hair was blond and slightly waving, his face tanned, his eyes a dark velvety brown as they roamed over her.

  'Did you want something, Mr Redwicke?' she asked quietly.

  'Yes, Jenna.' He smiled, coming closer. 'I want you…' Letting his words hang expectantly in the air, waiting for her reaction, he was disappointed when nothing was forthcoming. 'May I drive you home?' he asked with a touch of dented ego.

  The faintest tinge of red crept into her face. 'Thank you, but no, I'd really rather walk.'

  'All I'm asking for is the pleasure of your company for an hour or so. I'll take you home and if you like, you can change and then we'll go somewhere for a drink, have a nice quiet little dinner.' He turned on his most charming smile showing his perfect white teeth.

  She spoke softly, with a shy smile, but remained firm in her refusal. Her step was light when she turned away from him and started towards the door. 'Thanks anyway, Mr Redwicke. Maybe some other time.'

  'There won't be any other time and you know it.' His face changed, all pretence of charm vanishing. 'Does it give you some kind of thrill to have refused every man in this building?'

  Jenna stiffened, turning back to him, struggling to keep her voice calm. 'I'm sure I don't know what you mean.'

  'Oh yes, you do. You've heard the office gossip. "Iceberg", they call you. Every one of the men have tried, but they can't get you to accept even the most innocent offer of a lift home. I'm new here, but I haven't got leprosy. Why won't you let me take you home?'

  'Please don't take it personally,' she said quietly. 'I appreciate your offer, but I enjoy the walk. Now that spring's almost here, I'd like to take advantage of the nice weather.' She looked at him leaning negligently against the filing cabinet and sighed, knowing he wasn't the type who took no for an answer.

  'That's not it, Iceberg,' he jeered. 'There's something you're trying to hide, and we all wonder what it is. What's at home you don't want anybody to know about? I've got an open mind. You can tell me.'

  Jenna's chin shot up. She wasn't exactly ashamed of her home life, but she didn't go around flaunting it either. Her eyes flashed a bitter blue, but she managed to keep her voice steady. 'I don't have to explain myself to you. I've refused your offer in the most gracious way I know. The least you could do is accept it without indulging in idle speculation and repeating distorted gossip.'

  His lip curled as he straightened and held the door for her. 'You're scaring men away, Jenna, and a plain girl your age can't afford to do that. What's the deep dark secret hiding under all that ice?'

  His remarks were meant to sting, but Jenna, more than anybody else, knew she was plain, and her manner did scare men away, so he didn't hurt as much as he might have done. She was short and slender, with plain mouse brown hair and unremarkable blue eyes. Always neat and clean, she didn't wear make-up or the latest fashions, and as a result, she tended to blend into the woodwork. People always thought she was older than her twenty-three years and she never corrected them. Extremely shy, she gave the impression of being standoffish, but she didn't know how to overcome it.

  Without answering him, she lifted her chin and walked swiftly towards the time clock, but before she was out of earshot she heard one of the other men from the graphic department chortle: 'You lose the bet, old boy. I told you she wouldn't go with you!'

  The watery rays of the April sun filtered across the Toronto skyline, and Jenna shivered as she made her way down Yonge Street. The cold didn't bother her, but her thoughts did. She shook them off with an effort. This was her time of day and nothing would spoil it. Walking home like this, the only thing she allowed to make demands on her was the traffic signals. For three-quarters of an hour she could let her mind wander, forgetting all her obligations. The wind tugged at her topknot and her hair loosened, whipping across her face. She smiled widely, the first time that day, a light airy smile of relief.

  Almost spring, she kept telling herself. Soon the wind would be warm and gentle. Flowers would be everywhere. And sunshine—oh yes, hot, healing sunshine. She almost floated down the last two blocks to her home, but long before she reached the snug, comfortable, run-down house that had been converted into a two-family flat, she heard the strident cries.

  Stumbling up the sidewalk, she found her key and let herself in. 'Meg? I'm home!' She dropped her coat on a chair just inside the door and quickly walked to the bedroom where a tall blonde girl was bent over a cot. 'What on earth—?'

  'Thank God you're home!' The girl straightened and r
an a distracted hand through her tousled hair. 'He's been crying like this ever since you left this morning. For two cents I'd strangle him!'

  Jenna looked at the tiny baby. His face was flushed and his nose was running and his eyes were red and puffy. 'Does he have a fever?' she asked.

  'I don't know.'

  'What do you mean, you don't know? Didn't you take his temperature?'

  'Don't make it sound like such a crime! I don't even know how.'

  Jenna pressed her lips together and walked to the bathroom. When she came back she was shaking down a thermometer. 'I'll show you. In case this happens again.'

  'I don't want to know.'

  'Meg! Don't you have any feeling for him? He's sick.'

  'Listen, sister dear, he's your responsibility. You wanted him, not me. I only wanted to be free, to do what I like, live my own life, be able to go places without being stuck with a crying brat. Think back to the way things were before he came. They could be that way again if only you'd get rid of him. Put him up for adoption, that's the easiest thing to do.'

  Jenna closed her eyes and counted to ten, then pushed Meg out of the bedroom. 'Go and put the kettle on for me, will you? I'll take care of Robbie.'

  With ill grace, Meg flounced out. 'Don't be long. I have a very important date tonight.'

  Jenna bit back a ready retort and gathered Robbie into her arms. 'Okay, little boy,' she murmured soothingly, 'Auntie's here. What seems to be the trouble?'

  He rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists and clung to her, whimpering softly.

  Nearly half an hour later Jenna found her sister in the bathroom putting the finishing touches to her make-up. 'He's asleep,' she said quietly. 'His temperature's up, but he's not wheezing much. I think it might be his teeth and not the bronchitis this time.'

  'Spare me the gory details,' Meg said callously.

  'How can you be this way?' sighed Jenna hopelessly.

  'I told you before, I wasn't the motherly type. All that rot about instinct—' Meg tossed her head in exasperation. 'We've been all through this before. When are you going to accept it? I'll never be a mother to that boy. It's bad enough having to babysit all day until I can find work. I knew I never should have had him. I didn't want him before, and I don't want him now. All he's done for the last six months is cause problems.'

  'And Peter?' Jenna's voice was hard and inflexible.

  'You leave Peter out of this!' Meg rounded on her. 'He doesn't know anything about him, and that's the way I want it. The only thing that interests him is ancient cities buried under tons of earth. Nothing else matters to him.'

  'But don't you think he has a right to know after all this time? Robbie's his son too.'

  Meg splashed on some expensive cologne and fluffed the ends of her carefully dyed blonde hair. 'I couldn't drop a bombshell like that on him. He's married, remember? If you knew him, you'd know it would only cause complications. His wife would never let him live it down. Besides, his brother wouldn't tolerate any kind of scandal connected with the almighty Drummond name. He'd probably cut off Peter's allowance, and since he can't abide children either, he'd insist on blackballing me from every modelling agency in town and taking the kid away from you. Is that what you want? I thought you promised Mom you'd always take care of me?'

  Jenna looked at her for a long distraught moment, wondering for the umpteenth time how such a beautiful girl could be so callous, then shook her head, knowing it was useless. It shouldn't have surprised her that Meg wouldn't grow up and start being responsible for herself, but it always did.

  Running her fingers over her skin-tight skirt and smoothing the two wisps of deep blue chiffon that made up the top of her evening dress, Meg smiled into the mirror. 'How do I look?'

  Jenna bit her lip hard to prevent a rebuke from rushing out. 'It's a bit daring, isn't it?' she managed.

  'Only you would say that! I'm a model, not a nun. I've got to prove I've got the qualifications, and telling them isn't enough. They've got to see for themselves. Nobody knows I was pregnant and they won't be able to tell by looking at me. I'm going to the top of my profession!'

  'Oh, Meg, why don't you give it up?' Exasperation made Jenna's voice husky. 'I make enough money to keep us comfortable. If we're careful—'

  'You don't really believe that?' Meg sneered sarcastically. 'It's all right for you to keep wearing the same clothes year after year, but I need new ones—lots of new ones. There's never enough money for the things I have to have. You're only thinking of yourself, making us live like this. There's nothing for me here, no glamour, no action, no excitement. Nothing to do.'

  Jenna's eyes swept around the cluttered flat and then stopped accusingly on Meg. 'You could at least pick up after yourself. That would give you something to fill your time.'

  'I'm off, little mother,' Meg said quickly, ignoring the grim line of her sister's mouth. 'Don't wait up for me. I'm hoping I'll be late!'

  The expensive scent Meg used lingered long after she had gone, and Jenna sighed, feeling drained now that she was alone. Meg was so vibrant and alive and glowing. When she left she seemed to take everything exciting with her. Meg was right, there was no glamour or action here. Just the same old dull routine.

  She ate a small inelegant meal of tinned soup and managed to restore the flat to order and cleanliness before she checked again on the baby and retired for the night. But just after she had dozed off, Robbie started to cry, and she hurried in to him.

  'There, there,' she murmured, picking him up and rocking him gently, trying to soothe him, 'your other mother's here and everything's going to be all right.'

  It took more than two hours to settle him and then she heard a key in the door and Meg's light tinkling laugh. Yawning tiredly, Jenna waited a few minutes to allow her some privacy and give her enough time to say goodnight to whoever brought her home.

  But when she started back to her own room, she heard Meg's slightly slurred voice and the coaxing deeper masculine tones trying to wear down her resistance.

  'No, I can't ask you in for coffee. My sister's probably asleep.'

  'I wouldn't wake her. I've heard she needs all the beauty sleep she can get. Just five minutes, Meg. For old times' sake?'

  'I really shouldn't, Royce, but—all right. Five minutes.'

  'No, Meg,' said Jenna in a low quiet voice, standing in the shadows of the small living room. 'Not five minutes—not even five seconds.'

  'Jenna! What are you doing up?' Meg flicked on a lamp and pinned her with an angry glare. 'Spying on me?'

  She glanced at the tall man standing behind Meg and her face hardened. Arrogance was blatant in every line of his erect posture as he stood looking at her. He was striking, with thick black hair and finely chiselled features. Two deep grooves dented the sides of his handsome face and there was a deep dimple in his chin. With a sudden curling in the pit of her stomach, she wondered again where Meg always managed to find such gorgeous creatures. She'd never find one like him in a million years. 'You should know better,' she said quietly, forcing her to remember past indiscretions.

  Meg's sudden whitening at the reminder made Jenna sigh in apology.

  'I wasn't spying. I was up because Robbie was awake.'

  'Oh.' Meg dismissed that information as inconsequential and turned to the man. 'Sorry, Royce, I'll have to say goodnight now.'

  'Not yet.' He took several long strides into the room and flicked a contemptuous look at Jenna standing in her bare feet and faded blue bathrobe, her brown hair hanging in sleep-tangled disorder far down her back. 'I'm sure your sister realises you're old enough to invite a man in for a nightcap if you want to. Won't you introduce me? And who's Robbie?'

  Meg suddenly seemed to dwindle right before Jenna's eyes. 'My sister, Jennifer,' she whispered chokingly. 'This is Royce Drummond.'

  Jenna's eyes widened and she gripped the folds of her robe in front of her in an unconsciously protective gesture. 'Peter's brother?' It was out before she could stop the words from forming.

/>   'You know him?' His slashing grey gaze swept over her, and she felt a shock of fear race down her spine.

  'Of course she knows him,' Meg interrupted, her voice breathless. 'And now you'd better go— Jenna has to get up early for work tomorrow.'

  At first Jenna thought he was going to leave, but he merely turned back to the door and closed it quietly.

  'Who's Robbie?' he asked.

  Meg swallowed. 'Nobody—'

  '—Nobody you need be concerned about,' Jenna said smoothly, somehow finding her voice and successfully drawing his attention away from Meg. 'Robbie's my little boy.'

  'You have a son!'

  A certain grimness stole over her face and her mouth hardened. 'Yes, Mr Drummond. Even plain girls—who need all the beauty sleep they can get—have sons.'

  The grey sheen of his eyes slid over her thoughtfully, taking in her tumbled hair and the slim rigid length of her body in the faded bathrobe. She had a dignity in her anger that astounded him. He inclined his head and smiled an apology with effortless charm. 'I'm sorry you heard me say that. I had no idea you were married or that you had a son. My brother spoke of Meg's sister in a very different light.'

  'I'm sure he must have,' she said with clipped finality, brushing past him to open the door. 'Goodnight, Mr Drummond.'

  He had no choice but to leave, and after a slight hesitation, he nodded regretfully to Meg and left them.

  After he had gone, Jenna turned to her sister and couldn't contain her anger. 'How dare you!'

  'Please, Jenna!' begged Meg.

  'Don't you "please, Jenna" me! That was Peter's brother! How could you? Don't you realise what could have happened? We were just talking about it before you left.'

  'I couldn't help it.'

  Jenna swallowed convulsively. 'But you invited him in! Don't you have any sense at all? What if he'd seen Robbie? You told me he knew how thick you and Peter were. What if he'd recognised him?'