Act of Betrayal by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online

intentions, this could not go on. She
    thought, 'I've got to get out of here, and soon.' There was a rap
    on the door, and she jumped nervously, laddering the tights she
    was smoothing on to her slender legs. Mrs Fraser appeared. 'Mr
    Caswell has come home, and is asking for you,' she announced
    magisterially. 'He's in the study, and he doesn't seem best
    pleased, so I wouldn't keep him waiting.' When Laura entered the
    study a little while later, she decided the housekeeper had not
    exaggerated her uncle's peevishness. His usually ruddy colour had
    deepened alarmingly, and his mouth was set in sour lines. 'This
    is a damned mess,' he greeted Laura fretfully, his tone faintly
    accusing, as if in some way it was all her fault. 'Had you any
    idea this was likely to happen?' Laura sighed. 'Uncle Martin, you
    know quite well I haven't seen or heard from Jason since before
    the divorce. The only communication we had after I left was
    through our solicitors.' 'Yes, yes, I suppose so.' He drummed his
    fingers on the desk, frowning heavily. He said half to himself.
    'And I thought we were rid of him.' He gave a short laugh. 'Well,
    it seems we must make the best of it.] There's no room for
    personalities in business, after all. What's past is past, and
    the Tristan contract could be a lifesaver for us. So I hope I can
    depend on you, Laura, not to make waves.' Laura's hands clenched
    together. 'Behave in a civilised manner, do you mean?' she
    enquired ironically. 'Now, where have I heard that before?' Her
    uncle shrugged irritably. 'What the hell does it matter? And it's
    exactly what I mean. We can't let our personal feelings get in
    the way, Laura. Our first loyalty has to be to the firm.' He
    paused. 'Even Celia is going to make every effort...' 'So I
    understand.' Laura looked at him drily. 'Starting off with a
    cocktail party this very evening. How will you feel, entertaining
    Jason under this roof again?' 'I'll do what I need to do.' Martin
    Caswell walked over to the tray of decanters situated on a side
    table and poured himself a generous measure of whisky. 'And so
    will you, my child, i f you know what's good for you.' ' I see.'
    Laura ran the tip of her tongue over her dry hps. 'Uncle
    Martin—don't you think it might be better if I went right away
    from here? This is a very embarrassing situation for all of us
    and . . . ' 'Nonsense.' Martin Caswell slammed his glass down on
    the desk, slopping some of the contents on to the polished
    surface. 'Good God, girl, divorce is no novelty these days.
    You're not unique. Besides where would you go? What could you
    do?' She looked at him. 'I'm a good cook. I can keep house. Even
    these days there are jobs . . . ' 'You already have a
    job—here.' He glared at her. 'My God, Laura, I thought you had
    some gratitude in you. I take you in when you're on your knees,
    and just when I most need your help, your support, you threaten
    to walk out.'
    'Am I supposed to have no feelings at all?' she asked hoarsely.
    'Feelings? Don't talk to me about feelings when the whole future
    of Caswells could be at stake.' He threw himself back in his
    chair. 'They want to use the new Fibrona in both these projects
    they're committed to locally. If they do, and they like it, it
    could be worth a fortune in advertising for us. My God, Laura,
    the stuff isn't even properly in production yet—the lab still
    want to do more tests on the fireproofing element—yet somehow
    Tristan Construction have heard about it, and they've beaten a
    path to our door. I've always said Fibrona was revolutionary, and
    this proves it. It will the saving of Caswells, I tell you.'
    Laura said urgently, 'But it isn't the only fibre we produce and
    we have other customers besides Tristans. Aren't we putting all
    our eggs into one rather chancy basket? Supposing we invest
    heavily in the production of Fibrona, and then Tristan
    Construction decide they don't want it after all. What then?' 'Of
    course they want