A Wicked Persuasion

‘Not yet, thanks.’ Harriet was well aware that her fashion guru sister was inspecting her rear view in the clinging dress. Not that she cared. Some of the weight she’d lost over James had been regained eventually, but she was still a dress size smaller than Julia and at least two less than Sophie.

Harriet’s lips tightened as she put asparagus to steam. After years of absence from her life, it was the second intrusion of the day by James Crawford, the ‘someone unsuitable’ in her past. A mere technician with a computer firm had been dismissed as totally out of the question for a daughter of River House. And, to Harriet’s despair, her godmother, who until that point had been her constant ally, had agreed with Aubrey Wilde for the first time in living memory.

‘Darling, you’re too young,’ Miriam Cairns had told her. ‘You’re doing too well at university to get serious with anyone. If this young man is as wonderful as you say he’ll wait until you’re qualified.’

But James, unwilling to wait, had persuaded Harriet to share a flat with him near the college while she finished her course.

When Aubrey Wilde learned of the plan he’d lost his temper completely. Crimson with fury, he’d roared that he would get the director of the computer firm, a golfing crony of his, to fire his employee immediately. And if Harriet persisted in her defiance a restraining order would be taken out against the upstart, which would mean arrest if the man dared to come anywhere near Miss Harriet Wilde again. Appalled, she had argued long and passionately, and in desperation finally resorted to pleading. But her incensed father had remained immovable. In the end Harriet had given in, afraid that if she continued to defy him Aubrey Wilde would carry out his threat.

Harriet had been forced to tell James that living with him while she was still studying was not possible. ‘With you around to distract me I would never qualify.’

At first James had laughed, sure she was joking, but when he saw she was in deadly earnest he had done his utmost to change her mind until at last he threw up his hands in angry defeat. ‘So that’s it?’ he said at last, his voice rough with emotion. ‘On your bike, Crawford, and never darken my door again.’

‘Of course not,’ she said in misery, tears running down her face. ‘Things will be different once I’m qualified—’

‘You actually expect me to be fool enough to hang around that long, Harriet?’ His sarcastic smile cut her to pieces. ‘Daddy said no, didn’t he? And like a good little daughter you’re giving in without a fight.’

‘I had no choice,’ she said brokenly.

‘There’s always a choice!’ His eyes glittered with rage and bitter hurt. ‘But you’ve obviously made yours, little girl. So get lost. Run home to Daddy and grow up.’

Harriet had rung him the moment she got home, and sobbed in utter despair when she found his phone had been disconnected and his email wiped. James Crawford, the computer expert, had cut off all means of communication. After a sleepless night, she went to his lodgings first thing next morning, to find that he had already paid up and left. And until that brief encounter today she had never seen him again.

The oven timer went off, jerking Harriet back from the past. She loaded the trolley and trundled it along to the dining room, then joined the others to say that dinner was served.

‘About time,’ complained Sophie, jumping up. ‘I’m starving.’

‘But as usual it never occurred to you to lend a hand,’ said Harriet, with a sharpness so unlike her the other three stared, taken aback.

‘Busy day?’ asked her father warily.

Sophie bridled, flushing. ‘I’ve been busy too, I’d have you know. Annabel runs me ragged.’

‘Really? I thought she ran your wonderful Pilar ragged,’ said Harriet, referring to Sophie’s au pair, and Julia laughed.

‘Got you there, Sophie.’

Aubrey Wilde eyed Harriet uneasily. ‘Something wrong?’

‘No more than usual,’ she said tersely. ‘Let’s eat before poor little Sophie fades away from malnutrition.’

Sophie, who was anything but little, opened her mouth to snap back a furious retort, but caught her father’s quelling eye and subsided, sulking, as they took their places in the dining room. Harriet was glad of the wine her father poured for her, but the ordeal looming after the meal killed her enthusiasm for the perfect little salads. To her surprise, Julia carried the used dishes to a sideboard afterwards and ordered Sophie to hand round plates as Harriet served the venison, while Aubrey watched benignly, delighted to see his daughters working in such accord.

‘So why did you want us here tonight, Daddy?’ asked Sophie when they were back in the drawing room.

‘Nothing to do with me.’ He shrugged, and poured himself a cognac. ‘Splendid as it is to have all my girls with me, it’s Harriet’s idea, not mine.’

Julia raised her perfectly threaded eyebrows at her sister. ‘Please tell me I haven’t forgotten some occasion of significance, Harriet. At least I know it’s not your birthday. Have you had a promotion?’

‘Sadly, no.’ Harriet produced her briefcase.

‘Oh, bother,’ groaned Sophie. ‘Don’t say we have to sign things.’

‘No, you don’t.’ Harriet drew up a low table, and spread out some documents. ‘But it’s important that you and Julia are present at this discussion.’

Her father glared at her. ‘Harriet, if this is about accounts you should have discussed it with me first!’

‘In which case,’ she said without emotion, ‘you know perfectly well you would have dismissed my findings as pessimistic nonsense.’

Sophie burst into indignant protest, but Julia silenced her with an upraised hand. ‘These are the accounts for the financial year, Harriet?’

‘Yes.’ For once Harriet was glad of Julia’s input. ‘I may not have spoken to Father first tonight, but I assure you I’ve tried to reason with him on countless other nights before finally calling you both in.’

Aubrey reddened. ‘The girl’s always hammering at me to retrench. But dammit, I lead a very simple life since I retired. How can I be expected to cut down any further?’

Harriet went in for the kill. ‘You sell the house, Father.’

For once Julia and Sophie were in accord as they looked from Harriet to their father in utter horror.

‘Sell River House?’ gasped Sophie.

Julia frowned. ‘It’s as bad as that?’

Harriet eyed her father in challenge, and with much throat clearing he finally admitted that his finances were in a bad way. ‘Like a good many other people, I took a beating on the market recently,’ he admitted gruffly, and poured another brandy.

‘And the bottom line, Harriet?’ demanded Julia.

‘As things stand, Father can’t afford to go on living here without extra revenue coming in. This is a high maintenance house.’

Aubrey nodded morosely. ‘In your grandfather’s day there was a builder on call, and two full-time gardeners on the payroll. Now I get Ed Haines in for maintenance only when strictly necessary, and his son for one day a week in the garden.’

‘And you’re rapidly running out of funds for even that much,’ said Harriet with finality.

Sophie turned on her angrily. ‘Are you sure you’ve got this right? Shouldn’t one of the senior partners in your firm be doing Father’s accounts, not someone junior like you?’

Aubrey Wilde eyed her in disapproval. ‘Apologise to Harriet at once, Sophie.’

‘Sorry, sorry!’ Sophie burst into noisy tears. ‘But I just can’t bear the thought of River House being sold.’

‘Since Harriet is a qualified chartered accountant,’ snapped Julia who, if not affectionate, was always just, ‘her figures are obviously correct.’

‘They were checked by one of the senior partners. Rex Barlow went over them with me, at my request, and agreed with me on every count,’ said Harriet wearily. ‘Funds are needed urgently, or Father has no option. He must sell up.’

‘I can’t manage anything significant in the way of financial help,’ said Julia with regret. ‘The mortgage on the new flat is a killer.’

‘And I can’t ask Gervase for money!’ said Sophie in alarm. ‘He was absolutely horrid to me about my last credit card bill.’

‘Even if either of you could contribute something it would just be a temporary stopgap. However—’ Harriet paused, almost amused as the other three regarded her in sudden hope ‘—if you can’t bear the thought of selling, Father, there might just possibly be another way round the problem.’