The Price of His Redemption Read online

  ‘Your mother’s worried, Daniel. She’s under a lot of stress about tonight and isn’t feeling well.’ His hand moved to his chest and Libby thought the gesture was clearly meant to provoke a reaction.

  ‘If she has chest pain then call an ambulance.’ Daniil’s response was calm and measured, unlike Richard’s, whose hand balled in frustration as his son remained unmoved. ‘Anyway—’ Daniil shrugged ‘—there’s nothing for you to see. I have my speech prepared here.’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘Now, if you will please excuse us, Libby and I would like to get ready. We’ll be downstairs shortly.’

  ‘Very well,’ Richard said, but at the door he turned. Clearly, Libby thought, his father had to have the last word. ‘But, Daniel, when you do come down, can you please lose the accent?’

  They didn’t get back to their kiss. Libby put on some make-up and tried to make sense of what she had just heard. It wasn’t just an accent. Daniil’s voice was one of the many beautiful things about him, and the thought they would censor that had tears sparkling in her eyes, which wasn’t ideal when you were trying to put on eyeliner.

  She simply didn’t know what to say.

  At first.

  ‘Tupa shmara,’ Libby hissed, and Daniil smiled.

  ‘Nice try, wrong gender,’ he said.

  ‘Well, if we’re having a Russian lesson, what does se’bis mean?’ she asked, remembering the slight smirk when Daniil had greeted his father. Daniil laughed as he realised that Libby was far more perceptive than most.

  ‘It means get out,’ Daniil said. ‘They always assumed I was saying it as a greeting when they came into my room. Soon enough they started to say it back to me! I took my victories where I could get them.’

  ‘Ah, you can take the boy out of Russia...’ Libby said, and even as they smiled, there was sadness there, for that, she realised, was exactly what his parents had done—they hadn’t just taken him from his home, they had tried to erase his past, too.

  ‘Your ambulance trips...’ Libby said, and Daniil nodded.

  ‘She would get chest pain or faint or whatever any time that she didn’t get her way. It was always my fault, of course, but we had a lesson at school when I was fourteen about emergencies and first aid. The next time she collapsed I called an ambulance...’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I did the same the next time then the next time and the next...’

  Libby looked into his cold grey eyes and could well picture him standing calm and detached as chaos surrounded him, but it didn’t unsettle her. She knew, or was almost sure of, the warmth behind that guarded gaze.

  ‘I can’t be manipulated, Libby. Tears don’t move me. Neither does drama.’

  ‘What does, then?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  And therein lay a warning. This time, though, she was choosing not to heed it.

  She didn’t believe him.

  ‘Let’s do this,’ he said, and they headed downstairs.

  It was a supremely difficult evening.

  Not for everybody else—after all Lindsey had seen to it that everything had been done to ensure that the celebration ran smoothly. The surroundings were sumptuous—the grand hall glittered, not just from the chandeliers but from the huge red pillar candles dotted around the room. The air was heavy with the scent of the deep red roses that were on each table, which, Katherine told anyone who listened, had been cultivated by their gardener just for this occasion. Yes, the caterers were fantastic, the band amazing; the whole kit and caboodle was brilliant.

  ‘Your father did a good job,’ Daniil commented, and then shook his head at a passing waiter as a drink was offered. Yes, everything was perfect—even Daniel Thomas, the wayward son, behaved beautifully and spoke with friends and family in a very schooled voice.

  Didn’t they get, Libby thought, that when he had to think about what he was saying just to appease them, so much conversation was lost?

  No, she realised, they just cared about appearances. It wasn’t Daniil that they wanted to know. He was merely a replacement for the Thomases’ dead son.

  ‘Daniel...’ Libby bristled as a glossy brunette came over. Terribly glossy from her gleaming hair right to her blushing cheeks. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  ‘Libby—’ Daniil gave a tight smile ‘—this is Charlotte Stephenson. We were at school together. Charlotte’s father was headmaster.’

  ‘Still is,’ Charlotte said, and then pointed across the hall. ‘He’s over there. You should go over and say hello.’

  ‘Since when have I done as I should?’ he replied.

  Libby watched as Charlotte flounced off and she waited, waited for Daniil to explain, to tell her where Charlotte slotted in to his past, but, of course, he was supremely comfortable with silence, leaving Libby and her overactive imagination to fill in the gaps—of course, they’d been lovers.

  Ah, and then they all paused for the wonderful speeches!

  Libby’s throat was tight as Daniil walked to the front. There was no fumbling in his pocket for his speech or hiding behind notes. He would speak, seemingly off the cuff, but Libby was quite sure of the hours of practice that must have taken place for him to be able to deliver this speech with apparent ease.

  She glanced over at Katherine, who stood, eyes bulging and with a sheen of sweat on her upper lip. Richard, too, was tense, taking a hefty belt of his drink and then steeling himself as if preparing for bad news.

  Would it be?

  She looked at Daniil and for a moment wondered if he was about to wreak revenge for close to two decades of wrongs.

  He’d thought about it.

  For the first time in his life Daniil had the family stage, unmanaged. He looked at his parents and saw the tense warning in their eyes. He looked at his cousin George and his slight expectant smile, because wouldn’t venting his spleen serve George’s purpose well?

  There was no need for the truth, though, Daniil thought, for there was no one here that he cared enough to explain it to.

  And then his eyes met Libby’s and possibly he would amend that thought soon.

  For now he accepted her tight smile and the look that told him that whatever he chose to say was fine by her.

  There was a slight heady relief that came when somebody accepted you, Daniil thought.

  Whatever he might choose to do.

  First, in perfect, clipped English, he thanked all the guests for coming, particularly those who had travelled from afar, and then he addressed his parents.

  ‘Of course, the people who I really want to thank are the reason we are all here tonight.’

  Libby heard the happy sigh trickle through the room and watched as both Katherine and Richard visibly relaxed. A smatter of applause paused Daniil’s speech and she felt ashamed of herself, furious that she might have played any part in procuring this hell for him.

  He went through his parents’ marriage and spoke of their achievements, which were plenty, and the charities they supported, and then she watched Katherine’s shoulders stiffen as Daniil brought the white elephant up to the front of the room.

  ‘As you will all know, twenty years ago my parents suffered the devastating loss of their only child. For two years they were bereft but then, being the generous people that they are, they came to realise that they still had so much love to give.’

  Libby wanted to stand up and clap. Not in applause. She wanted to stand and clap and call attention to herself. ‘No, they didn’t,’ she wanted to say. ‘They didn’t want to deal with the death of their son so they simply did their best to get another one.’

  Instead, though, she listened as he spoke on.

  ‘As most of you will know, two years after their insufferable loss my parents brought me into their family. I was twelve years old at the time and—’ he gave a wry smile ‘—far
from easy, yet they opened their home to me and gave me opportunities that I could never have dreamed of.’

  He spoke of the school they had sent him to, one where Richard was still on the board of directors.

  ‘I see that Dr Stephenson is here tonight.’ Daniil nodded to his old headmaster. ‘You were right,’ Daniil said, and it took everything he could to keep the malice from his eyes as he looked at man who had wielded his draconian power so mercilessly in an attempt to whip him into suitable shape. ‘I had no idea just how lucky I was.’

  Libby could feel the tension from her jaw right to her shoulders. Possibly she was the only person in the room who was reading between the lines, for Dr Stephenson was smiling as if he’d been thanked as Daniil continued.

  ‘I know that without my parents’ endless support and encouragement I would not be where I am today.’

  Those present knew that financially Daniil was head and shoulders above everyone here and so, when he gave his parents the credit, there were oohs and aahs and applause from the crowd, and Katherine gave a small beatific smile and put her hand up to stop people, as if saying that she didn’t deserve the praise.

  She didn’t, Libby thought savagely.

  Yet Daniil saw it through.

  He borrowed the line Libby had used on the day they had met, which he had at the time questioned, and said what an achievement forty years of marriage was. He wished them well for the future and said that their marriage was a shining example and one he could only hope to emulate.

  As everyone raised their glasses, Libby was a few seconds behind. The expensive French champagne tasted like a dose of bitters on her tongue as Richard gave his first ever appreciative nod to his son.

  Finally Daniil had toed the line.

  I just sold my soul, Daniil thought as he returned to Libby’s side.

  But he had done it for a reason.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE RED VELVET cake was cut and it looked amazing but sat like sand in her mouth as Daniil performed several duty dances.

  Clearly she wasn’t the only one who found the cake tasteless because the table she sat at became littered with discarded plates of half-eaten cake, but finally Daniil made his way over and now it was Libby he held in his arms.

  ‘Your speech went down well,’ she commented.

  ‘The downside to that is they’re now talking to me,’ Daniil said. ‘I preferred their silence.’

  He glanced over Libby’s shoulder and saw that his cousin was watching them. Libby had noticed him, too.

  ‘Your cousin seems overly interested in you,’ she observed.

  ‘He’s hoping I’ll disgrace myself just to shore up his inheritance,’ Daniil said. ‘You know, sometimes I consider smarming up to my parents just for the dread it would cause him...’

  ‘But you don’t?’

  ‘Nope,’ Daniil said. ‘I just amuse myself with the thought at times.’ He looked down at Libby. His hands were on her waist and her spine was rigid and he missed the fluidity of her movements, the ease between them that they usually enjoyed.

  ‘I’m sorry to have left you alone for so long.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘We’ll be out of here soon,’ he said. He just wanted this night over so that he could speak with his father and find out a vital part of his past. He had no plans after that. His thought process had always stopped at the moment his father revealed the truth about the letters.

  ‘We’re not staying, then?’ Libby checked, and then smiled. ‘Or when you say out of here...’

  She meant the bedroom, she meant a door between them and the rest of the world, and, for the first time ever, he realised that might be enough. He looked down into clear blue eyes and the thought of staying the night was appealing if it meant that they could be alone sooner.

  ‘You’ve seen for yourself how my father had no compunction about knocking and not waiting to be asked in...’

  ‘We could cure that annoying habit very easily,’ Libby said into his ear.

  ‘It didn’t work this evening.’

  ‘I wasn’t naked and on top of you then,’ Libby said, and Daniil found himself smiling at the thought of his father’s hasty retreat if he found them in such a compromising position.

  ‘You wouldn’t duck under the covers, would you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘I’d ask him to pour me a glass of water. He’d never not knock again.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Daniil asked, as she smiled and gave a small wave to someone over his shoulder.

  ‘I’m annoying George for you,’ she said. ‘I just smiled at your mother.’

  Here at the family home, when he had never thought there could be, there was the first glimpse of ease. With Libby, there was a sense of togetherness—nothing and no one could touch them.

  ‘What are your family functions like?’ Daniil asked.

  ‘Catered for by my sister, micromanaged by my father...’

  ‘And your mother?’ Daniil asked, because she rarely mentioned her.

  ‘Frowned on by her.’ Libby’s response was resigned. ‘I don’t think she’s ever been truly happy. She simply doesn’t know how to enjoy the moment.’

  And that was exactly what they did.

  Right now, in the midst of so much history, a sliver of pleasure was found—the beat of the music, the feel of each other.

  Was this what a relationship made possible? Daniil pondered.

  A hellish visit made bearable simply by having her there.

  Always there was the next thing to aim for, the race to be run, but right now, in a place that held no happy memories, where he had least expected to find it, he started to glimpse a future, a constant that could remain.

  The dance had turned into one of pleasure, an unexpected treasure that he had never expected to find this night, though it unnerved Daniil, rather than bought comfort, for he knew better than to get used to such a thing.

  Nothing lasted—that much had been proved long ago.

  As the music shifted he released her from his arms and Libby excused herself to visit the ladies’ room. Daniil went and got another glass of sparkling water—he was very deliberately not drinking tonight.

  He stiffened as George came over to him—he was all smiles as he congratulated Daniil on his speech.

  ‘Very nicely said.’ George gave a nod of approval that Daniil did not need but, because he had sold his soul tonight, just to find out about the letters, he seemingly accepted the praise and shook his cousin’s hand.

  ‘It’s true what you said about a forty-year marriage being an achievement...’ George sighed. ‘I doubt it will ever happen to either of us.’

  ‘Yes, I heard about your divorce,’ Daniil said. He really was on his best behaviour tonight, for he omitted to mention that this divorce would be George’s third.

  ‘Yes, the cow is taking me for all I haven’t got,’ George hissed. ‘The last two saw to that. Relationships are bloody hard work if you ask me.’

  Daniil hadn’t.

  ‘So how long have you been with Libby?’ George asked. ‘She seems like a very lovely lady.’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘How did you meet?’

  ‘We...’ Daniil started, and then he realised there was no reason to lie. ‘We met through Libby’s father. He organised tonight.’

  ‘So you only got together recently, then?’

  Daniil nodded.

  ‘I thought as much.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Daniil checked.

  ‘She still seems happy,’ George said, and walked off.

  Daniil’s jaw gritted but he told himself to ignore what had just been said. As he went to walk away it was straight into Charlotte, who was standing, talking with his mother and her fathe
r.

  ‘For old times’ sake?’ Charlotte said.

  It was a duty dance or make a small scene, Daniil knew, so he held his ex in loose hands and, had Libby not been here tonight, she’d have sufficed.

  Charlotte didn’t do it for him now.

  ‘My father’s looking very displeased,’ Charlotte whispered, and twelve years or so ago that would have turned him on.

  Hell, a few weeks ago it might have been enough for Daniil to make his way to her room later tonight for the simple pleasure of screwing her under her father’s nose.

  ‘I’m coming down to London next week,’ Charlotte purred.

  ‘I’ll be away on business.’

  ‘I’ll be there again next month.’

  And he knew then he’d changed because next month was an eternity in the relationship stakes for him and yet he was starting to envision the weeks with Libby—imagining that, weeks from now, months from now, years from now, they two might remain. Yes, Charlotte was like the cake, perfect to look at yet something was lacking. There was no temptation to taste now.

  ‘Why don’t you give me your number?’ Charlotte asked. ‘I tried calling a while back but your receptionist wouldn’t put me through. If I had your—’

  ‘I don’t give it out to just anyone,’ Daniil interrupted.

  ‘I’m not just anyone.’

  And he looked into eyes that were playing the game he had played for so long, yet he was over it now.

  ‘Oh, but you are.’

  Yes, he was the bastard she told him he was, and as Libby returned to the grand hall it was to the sight of Charlotte walking rapidly away from his arms.

  No, Libby wasn’t secure enough not to notice or care.

  The evening was winding down and Daniil just wanted to get out of this toxic place but he still hadn’t spoken with his father and as Richard came over, he decided to deal with that now.

  ‘We’re going riding in the morning,’ Richard said. ‘It will be an early start and then back here for breakfast...’

  ‘Not for me,’ Daniil said. ‘We need to head off before nine. I was wondering if I could have a word, though.’