Read Online The Philanthropist's Danse by Paul Wornham - Free Book Online Page A

tell you because he didn’t know how.”
    Bethany turned white and she uttered a single sob before hiding her face behind her hands. Junior sat in silence. He was shocked by the unexpected news that his father had sired another daughter. He was instantly trapped by his own insistence that the family deserved a larger share than the others. He had not expected the family to grow in number.
    Philip stared at Camille and felt ill. He had decided to seduce the French girl after she had smiled across the dining room at breakfast with a look he now realized he had badly misinterpreted. MacLean was the first to recover. “How is it that you only found out about Johnston, your father, so recently?”
    Camille relaxed now the secret had been revealed, and she was careful to find the right tone. She related her tale to the group, how her mother had kept her father’s identity a close secret until she lay on her deathbed. How she had come to America in search of the only remaining family she had, and how she had been welcomed by her father. She told of her devastation that she had lost him so soon after finding him. She embellished the story with well-timed tears, and told of her yearning to meet her sister, but that their father had forbidden it.
    Camille looked at Bethany and twisted the knife. “Dear sister, let us share our grief, we both loved him so much.” She stood, aware of everyone’s eyes on her and walked to Bethany. Camille planted a light kiss on her sister’s cheeks, then went to Philip and Junior in turn and repeated the gesture. She stood behind Junior’s chair, and looked over the group, aware of her dramatic pose with her head defiantly tossed back. She finished her cigarette, dropped the butt into Junior’s water glass, walked back to her seat and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye with a tissue.
    Freddie Hagood exhaled loudly. “William, I think we need a break to let people collect their thoughts. Is there any objection?” The lawyer, who had known what might happen at the revelation but was shocked anyway, readily called a recess.

Chapter Seven
    F reddie had suggested the break but stayed in the conference room and waited until the only person left sitting at the table was Winnie Tremethick. He asked if he could join her and while surprised he would want to sit with her, she agreed. Winnie was happy to see a friendly face, she had been nervous since she arrived at the mansion, but was upset now the business had taken an unpleasant turn.
    Freddie offered her a coffee, which she accepted. She would have preferred tea, but the tepid brew she had received at breakfast had tasted so awful, she was afraid to ask for another. “I’m Freddie, and I was a rival of Mr. Thurwell.” His reintroduction irritated Winnie, as if she wouldn’t remember his name only minutes after learning it. She wondered what he wanted and wished he’d get to the point.
    “You must realize if Johnston Thurwell wanted you to be here, there has to be a connection. He was too thorough to make a mistake about who you are.” She looked into Freddie’s eyes, which had seemed friendly at first, but she could tell there was an edge under his polite civility. She sipped her coffee. It was hot and better than the tea.
    “I understand you’d expect he’d have invited me for a reason. I don’t blame you, or Mr. Bird, for thinking so. However, I am quite sure I never met poor Mr. Thurwell. I think I’d remember a rich American showing up in Cornwall, but it never happened. I never even met an American before I arrived here.”
    He smiled and leaned forward, but it was only for show, in case anyone was watching. “I don’t know what secret you think you’re protecting, but I’ll find it, lady. So just tell me what it is and I’ll help you get out of here.” She shuddered, his menacing tone frightened her. Winnie pushed back in her chair to try and escape Freddie’s closeness. “I don’t know him, I never did. And if he knew