Justin smiled. He’d got him. ‘Pay every one of the bastards back twofold. Only then would I feel capable of getting on with my life. I wouldn’t let anyone get away with treating me like a buffoon!’
By William’s reaction, Justin knew that Maynard’s nickname had hit him like a dart. William leaned forward. ‘So what would you do?’
Justin looked deep into William’s eyes. ‘You own an island, don’t you?’
‘I do.’
‘Then that is where you will lay the trap.’ He laughed, throwing his head back and clapping his hands. Once more he became serious. A slender finger tapped William’s knee. ‘I have an idea. It’ll take a long time, but you will need that time to get ready, and I can guarantee that it will work. But you must be prepared to arrange it, down to the smallest detail. Then you can step in for the kill.’
‘I don’t want to kill anyone, for Christ’s sake,’ William squeaked.
‘Hypothetically you do, but if you won’t admit it, then forget it.’
‘Okay, carry on, I’m all ears.’
Justin lay back in his chair and closed his eyes. The flickering candles played across his beautiful face. Then his eyes opened and William recalled what he had read in Maynard’s diary about a darkness, both frightening and exhilarating. Now he felt it. His stomach churned and the bile of his humiliation subsided as he felt excitement rise. ‘Go on,’ he said softly.
Chapter six
Sylvina carried her coffee and rolls out to the pool where Justin was swimming. He didn’t acknowledge her until he had completed twenty lengths, then he stopped, resting his elbows on the edge of the pool. ‘I have a brilliant idea,’ he announced.
She slid on her sunglasses, and poured coffee as he heaved himself out, splashing water everywhere, then padded towards the sun-lounger next to hers.
‘Go on, ask me what it is.’ He picked up her roll, bit into it, then reached for her coffee.
‘You always do this.’ She was irritated. ‘Why don’t you ever ask if you can eat my breakfast? Better still, get your own.’
‘You, my darling, will have a retinue of servants to bring yours in the future.’
‘Really? Won the lottery, have you?’ She picked up the pool telephone and asked Marta for more coffee and rolls. Justin was towelling himself dry. He was obviously pleased with himself about something.
He flopped down on a sun-lounger. ‘This is how it’s going to work.’ She sat next to him as he smothered himself in her suntan lotion. ‘You’re going to get engaged to William.’ He gave her a wide grin.
‘Really? And is he aware of this development?’
‘No, but he’ll be thinking about it. I’ll get him to come by this evening so we can arrange it.’
‘Really? Well, that is fascinating. What if I’m not interested in attaching myself to him and, more to the point, what if he’s not inclined to attach himself to me? I’m not going to open my legs for him. I’ve refused a lot better and—’
‘Not that much richer,’ he interrupted, then lay back to sun himself. ‘This is the way it will work. You will get engaged and start to iron out his social ineptitude. You will become the society hostess of the season: parties, balls, the works. You will begin to entertain on such a lavish scale that anyone refusing to be associated with William will be won around. With your contacts and mine we’ll make them cream themselves to get close to him!’
She laughed, leaned over and rubbed his flat muscular stomach. ‘You’re such a dreamer, darling.’
He swiped her hand away. ‘This is not a dream! We can make it a reality.’
She shrugged. ‘Fine. I’m riveted. Is there a purpose to all these immensely costly social functions you intend to sweep the world with, or do you just fancy dressing up?’
‘I swear to you, he’ll pay you for the privilege of your company.’
‘Sounds very Mills and Boon to me, sweetheart, but do go on.’
Justin began to pace, skipping between the cracks in the marble tiles. ‘Payback time. You will be his reintroduction into the world he has always wanted to be part of. He could never get there on his own and needs you to get inside the inner sanctum. Once he’s there...’ He gave a shrill, almost hysterical laugh.
Sylvina couldn’t follow what he was talking about and Justin was interrupted by Marta’s arrival.
‘I’ll go and shower,’ Justin said suddenly, sunbathing forgotten. ‘We’ll ask for a million in cash, all expenses on top of that, a new wardrobe, a car, anything you can think of to enhance your performance as the most beautiful, eligible and sophisticated society hostess.’ He was still chattering to himself and, as he disappeared, she could hear him laughing at his own fantasy.
‘He’s crazy,’ Sylvina said. Then, ‘Do you know when she’s arriving?’
‘I think perhaps tomorrow,’ Marta replied. ‘He has asked for the white linen sheets to be aired, plus her lilies, and that bottled water she prefers.’
Sylvina sighed. ‘I don’t know why he wanted me to house-sit. It looks like he’s going to be here for the summer. He really is annoying.’
Marta said nothing, but cleared away the dirty crockery and headed back into the house.
Sylvina picked at a roll. She was suddenly depressed. She hated being so broke she couldn’t leave here. She’d let her Paris apartment for the summer and her family château was uninhabitable. Even the vineyard that had once flourished was now suffering from blight. She rummaged in her pocket for her cigarettes and lit one. It would be nice to have some of the fat man’s millions. She knew she had borrowed too often and, in so doing, had limited her circle of wealthy friends by exploiting their generosity. But she still had many high-powered contacts. She was still on the invitation list of society’s upper echelon, but of late she had been unable to afford the price of the charity tickets. She stubbed out the cigarette.
‘Is that coffee hot?’ Sharee said, making Sylvina jump.
‘Yes.’ Sylvina closed her eyes.
Sharee, using Sylvina’s cup, poured herself a splash, sipped, then filled the cup. ‘You were miles away,’ she said, sitting down on Justin’s vacated sun-lounger and squinting up at the sun. ‘It’ll be a boiler of a day. We going to the beach? Are you listening?’
Sylvina looked over her dark glasses at Sharee. ‘Justin’s got this crazy idea.’
‘Hasn’t he always?’ Sharee said, concentrating on a few leg hairs that had been missed during waxing.
‘It’s about William Benedict.’
Sharee took out a pair of tweezers and began to pluck out the stray hairs with relish. ‘What would you think if I got engaged to him, for money? I mean, we wouldn’t fuck, it’d be a business arrangement for me to introduce him into society.’
Sharee’s head was bent low over her left leg. ‘Well, he’s not exactly a teenager, is he? I thought only debs and young guys got into that society thing. He’s gotta be fifty if not more.’
‘If it’s what he wants.’
‘Is it?’
‘I don’t know.’
Sharee laughed. ‘You know, sometimes I think you’re as bad as Justin. He’s nuts!’ She looked up. ‘Maybe I should offer. I mean, I’m younger than you and if he’s got that amount of money to throw around, I’d get engaged to him. I’d even fuck him if it made him happy.’
‘You’ve missed the point,’ Sylvina snapped.
‘Oh, yeah, so what is it?’
‘I am a countess. I know everyone one needs to know. I am socially accepted, sweetheart.’
‘Who you kidding? You’ve not got two cents to scratch yourself with, and I wouldn’t say the Eurotrash I’ve met with you are exactly the top social order. You’re not exactly mixing with King Thingy of Spain!’