to the rather sombre décor. A long polished oak table stretched the length of the room and Beth estimated that thirty or more people could be seated at it. Only two places were set at one end of the table, however, and as she entered the room Cesario swung round from the window where he had been staring into the darkness outside and walked towards her.
* * *
The simmering anger that had gripped Cesario following the telephone call he had taken half an hour ago burned hotly inside him as his eyes roamed over Beth. To his disgust, he could not control the sharp tug of desire that arrowed through him and wondered how he could have dismissed her as unworthy of a second glance when she had first arrived at the castle.
She was as slender as a reed in a green dress which emphasised the vivid colour of her eyes. Other than a faint sheen of gloss on her lips her face was bare of make-up, and he was once again struck by her air of innocence. But he knew now that it was an illusion, he thought darkly. For all the simplicity of her dress, he could tell that it was couture and undoubtedly expensive. Either wages for office cleaners were higher than he had realised, he mused sardonically, or Beth had acquired the dress the same way she had helped herself to a pair of diamond earrings.
His jaw hardened, but he disguised his fury with a smile that only those who knew him well would have recognised—and feared.
‘Good evening, Beth.’
His eyes lingered on her for a moment, watching the soft stain of colour flare along her delicate cheekbones, and he felt a spurt of savage triumph that she could not hide the betraying sign of her awareness of him. He had no control over the sudden quickening of his pulse, and it took all his will-power to turn his head from her and glance at his butler.
‘That will be all, thank you, Teodoro. Please see that Miss Granger and I are not disturbed.’
The click of the door as Teodoro left the room sounded faintly ominous, indicating as it did that she was now alone with Cesario, Beth thought with a sudden rush of nervousness. She silently ordered herself to stop being stupid as she sat down on the chair he pulled out for her. But she had always been acutely sensitive to atmosphere, and her skin prickled as she sensed an undercurrent of tension in the room.
‘What would you like to drink? Filomena has prepared a chicken dish, and I was going to serve a Sauvignon Blanc with it, but there is red wine if you prefer?’
‘White is fine, thank you.’ She did not want to appear gauche by asking for lemonade, and perhaps a glass of wine would help her to relax. When he handed her the drink, she offered him a shy smile, but it was not reciprocated.
Instead, his eyes narrowed and glittered with an expression Beth could not define.
He raised his glass and drawled in a faintly mocking tone, ‘To new acquaintances.’ Taking his place opposite her at the table, he indicated the first course—a selection of cold meats, local pecorino cheese and figs. ‘Please begin. And while we eat,’ he murmured dulcetly, ‘you can tell me more about Beth Granger.’
The curious nuance in his voice caused Beth’s stomach to knot and her appetite deserted her. She forced herself to sample a piece of ham and then set down her fork. ‘What would you like to know?’
‘Why don’t you start with your career?’
‘I’m not sure that working as a cleaner could be described as a career,’ she said quietly.
‘Ah, but I understand you are a qualified nanny and worked until fairly recently for a family in Berkshire.’
Beth’s mouth suddenly felt dry. She reached for her glass and took a sip of wine, unaware that Cesario had noticed her hand shaking slightly. ‘How do you know that?’
‘I had you investigated.’ His brows lifted at Beth’s sharp intake of breath. ‘How could you think I wouldn’t? You’ve turned up at my home with a fantastical story. It is only natural that I should want to know everything about you.’
‘It isn’t a fantastical story. Mel was certain you are Sophie’s father.’
Cesario could not possibly know what had happened when she had worked for the Devingtons, Beth assured herself desperately. Alicia Devington had agreed not to involve the police in return for Beth leaving Devington Hall immediately and without the month’s pay she had been owed. It had been Hugo Devington’s suggestion, of course, she thought bitterly. He hadn’t wanted the police called in case she told them what he had done.
But she’d had no proof. It would have been the word of a lowly nanny against that of a highly respected barrister. And after Hugo had cleverly set her up to look like a thief no one would have believed her accusation that he had attempted to sexually assault her.
The memory of Hugo Devington QC’s arrogant smirk as he had peeled a five pound note from the wad of cash in his wallet and offered it to her to pay for her taxi to the station was as clear in her mind as the memory of his red face and hot breath as he had shoved his sweaty hand up her skirt.
Feeling slightly sick, she forced herself to meet Cesario’s gaze. ‘I have nothing to hide.’
‘Really?’ He paused for a heartbeat, as still and watchful as a panther preparing to spring on its doomed prey. ‘I thought you would want to keep the fact that you once stole a pair of diamond earrings worth forty thousand pounds well and truly hidden.’
‘I didn’t.’ Her denial was swift and fierce, but inside she was utterly mortified by Cesario’s contemptuous expression. ‘It’s true there was…an incident. But the police weren’t involved and the only people who knew of it were Mr and Mrs Devington and me. I don’t understand how your investigator could have heard about it,’ she said in a low tone.
He shrugged. ‘The Devingtons employ several domestic staff, all of whom were aware of the reason for your abrupt departure from Devington Hall. People like to gossip—especially after a few drinks. My private eye learned a great deal from the Devingtons’ cook when he met her in the local pub.’
‘Nora doesn’t know the truth about what happened. Nobody does.’ Beth’s voice shook. ‘Except me and Mr Devington.’
‘Are you saying that the Cartier earrings Hugo Devington had given to his wife as a birthday present did not disappear from her jewellery box, and were not later found hidden in a drawer in your room?’ Cesario demanded relentlessly.
The blood drained from Beth’s face. She wanted to defend herself, but she felt intimidated by Cesario’s barely leashed aggression. She hated any sort of confrontation. Her mind flew back over the years to an incident at school, when one of the girls in her class had announced that an expensive watch had disappeared from her locker.
Stephanie Blake had been one of the pretty, popular, well-off girls, and Beth had never been included in her circle of friends. When she had found the watch on the playing field, where Stephanie must have dropped it, she’d hurried to return it. But instead of thanking her the other girl had given her a suspicious look, and later Beth had overheard her discussing the probability that she had stolen the watch in the first place.
‘My father says you can’t trust children in care,’ Stephanie had stated to her cronies. ‘Beth was probably going to sell my watch, but lost her nerve.’
At fourteen, she had been too shy and lacking in self-confidence to defend herself, Beth remembered dismally.
She darted a glance at Cesario’s autocratic face that looked as though it had been carved from stone and caught her lower lip with her teeth.
‘I swear I didn’t take the earrings. I was shocked when they were found in my room, but…I know who put them there.’
‘Then why didn’t you say so at the time?’
She flinched at his sardonic tone and realised it was pointless to try and convince him of her innocence. Because no one would have believed me, she answered his question silently. She had been an unimportant nanny, while Hugo Devington