Page 16 of Bound by a One-Night Vow

She pulled out of his hold, her eyes glittering with the bitterness he’d heard in her voice. ‘I don’t want to talk about it. Not to you.’

‘Why not to me?’

Her gaze shifted. ‘You wouldn’t believe me, that’s why.’

Andrea had always been aware that there were facets to Benedict Byrne that were less honourable than others. It was why he had distanced himself from Benedict over the last couple of years. He knew Benedict had found being the father of a wilful daughter a complex and emotionally draining experience. But he realised he had only ever heard Benedict’s side. He had never asked Izzy directly what it was like for her being her father’s daughter. ‘I’d like you to tell me, Isabella,’ he said. ‘It’s important to me to know why you felt he didn’t value you.’

Her gaze was wary. Guarded. ‘Important to you, why? So you can tell me what a screwed-up, selfish and spoilt brat I am for not appreciating all the sacrifices my father made? No, thanks. I’ll go and find a brick wall to talk to instead. I bet I’d feel more listened to.’

Andrea could see it was going to take some time for Izzy to learn to trust him. Their relationship had always been a combative one so changing it would take time and careful handling on his part. But it concerned him he might have been too quick to judge her in the past, too quick to believe the things her father told him about her without speaking to her himself. He’d been so intent on avoiding her, of being alone with her, he had let himself be swayed by her father’s version of her behaviour.

‘I’m sorry you think I wouldn’t listen to you about something this important,’ he said. ‘Your father wasn’t perfect. I had to set limits with him at times because he could be a little overpowering in his enthusiasm for a project. I always felt a little sorry for him for the loss of your brother and your mother. I may have let that colour my judgement of him and, of course, you.’

Izzy’s expression lost some of its wariness, her mouth softening from a tight white line of bitterness to release a jagged sigh. ‘He acted like Father of the Year when he was around everyone else, but when we were alone he was always berating me. Putting me down, telling me I wasn’t as smart as my brother, Hamish, or I was too fat or too thin or not confident enough—the list went on and on. I was never able to please him. Never.’

Andrea knew Benedict Byrne had been a difficult man at times. He hadn’t suffered fools gladly and he had exacting standards that hadn’t always won him lasting friendships. Andrea tried to recall all the times he’d seen Izzy and her father together. All he could remember was Izzy acting out, being rude or belligerent, deliberately defying curfews and blatantly disregarding her father’s wishes. Benedict had always seemed so patient with her—far more patient than one would expect any parent to be. Andrea had always seen Izzy as a typical overindulged and ungrateful teenager who didn’t understand the sacrifices her father had made for her.

But what if he had misread things?

What if he had wanted to see her that way? What if Benedict had wanted him to see her that way?

What if the man he’d admired and owed so much was not the decent and hardworking man Benedict Byrne wanted everyone to think he was? Andrea had personal experience of chameleon-like men. His stepfather could be utterly charming in company but could turn into an anger-crazed demon when no one was looking.

‘Isabella...’ Andrea said, not sure where to begin with an apology that was too little, too late. ‘You’re describing someone I barely recognise—’

‘So you’ll believe what my father wanted you to believe other than accept what I’m telling you.’ She didn’t say it as a question but as a given, as if it was a reality she had heard many times before.

‘No. I want to listen to your side. I want to understand why you found him so difficult to love.’

Her eyes suddenly brimmed with unshed tears and he realised he had never seen her cry before. Not even at her father’s funeral. ‘He didn’t love me so why would I love him?’ Her tone was defiant but underneath there was a deep chord of sadness.

He blotted one of her tears with his thumb. ‘But you did love him, sì?’

She swallowed and blinked a few times, the tears drying up as if she regretted losing control. Her expression tightened as if all of her facial muscles were holding in her emotions and only just managing to contain them. ‘You knew him as Benedict Byrne the successful business developer. As your friend and mentor. The philanthropic businessman who gave generously to others. You didn’t know him as a father.’

Andrea thought again of the times he’d seen Izzy and her father together. But this time it was like putting on a different pair of reading glasses, the images developing a startling new clarity. Images of Benedict’s calm expression when Izzy had made a cutting comment—he had almost been too calm.

Deadly calm.

Revenge-will-come-later calm.

Images of Benedict’s arm around Izzy’s waist and her rigid body posture, which Andrea had always put down to her surly and intractable nature. But what if Benedict’s hold had a touch of cruelty about it? Benedict had spoken at length to Andrea about his hurt and disappointment over Izzy’s behaviour, but what if those cosy little man-to-man confessions had been nothing but a cover-up? An emotional alibi to hide the ugly truth?

‘You’re right,’ Andrea said. ‘And no father is the same for every child within a family. I know the loss of Hamish devastated him, as it would any parent.’

‘I’m not saying he didn’t love my brother,’ Izzy said. ‘He did. But that was part of the problem. He didn’t have enough love left over for me. I was just a girl and I didn’t have the skills and abilities Hamish had. I was a failure in my father’s eyes. A big, fat disappointing failure.’

Andrea gently placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Did he say that to you?’

Her lips pulled tight as if she wasn’t sure if she should say any more. Then she let out a long breath. ‘Many times. But never within anyone’s hearing. My only chance to get back at him was to act out in public. I know it was stupid of me. It only made him look all the more wonderful because he was always so long-suffering and patient when anyone was watching.’

Andrea’s scalp began to prickle, his stomach pinching, his conscience grimacing in shame. He had been fooled by Benedict. Shockingly, shamefully fooled. It was even more painful for him to admit it, given he had suffered under his stepfather’s tyrannical rule, while everyone thought it was Izzy’s fault for being defiant. ‘What happened when everyone left?’

‘He was too smart to shout at me because of the household staff who might overhear. He would tell me what he thought of me behind closed doors in this really hushed and angry voice and his eyes would get all bulgy and mad-looking.’ Pain flickered over her face. ‘He’d tell me how he wished I’d been the one to die instead of Hamish.’

Izzy was painting a picture Andrea didn’t want to look at in too close detail but he knew he must. He couldn’t allow himself to be blinded by his own personal bias. He had always prided himself on being a good judge of character but now he felt as if he had been duped. Duped by someone he had admired. He had benefited so much from her father. He would not be the success he was today without the older man’s help. But he knew even the best men could have bad sides.

But how bad had Benedict Byrne’s been?

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