A Touch of Notoriety - By Carole Mortimer Page 0,34
all the leverage available to her when in the presence of this imposing Argentinian! ‘Well?’ she prompted when he remained silent.
Raphael sighed, knowing by the light of battle he could see in Beth’s eyes—when he at last managed to drag his gaze away from the wild tumble of her blond hair and the visible swell of her creamy breasts above the dark green towel that barely covered the tops of her long and shapely legs!—that she was not about to make the next few minutes easy for him.
Any more than they were going to be easy ones for her...
His mouth thinned. ‘Our investigations these past few days established that James and Carla Lawrence resided in the Parish of Stopley in Surrey, before they later moved to the house in Kent, where you also resided until their deaths eighteen years ago.’
The tightness in Beth’s chest increased, her breathing so shallow it barely existed at all. ‘And?’
Raphael’s expression was pained. ‘I believe we discussed a scenario some days ago regarding the proof you felt you needed in order to believe the Navarros’ claim?’
Beth felt the colour drain from her cheeks, and she stumbled slightly as she moved to drop down weakly onto the side of the bed. ‘A gravestone, dated twenty-one years ago, with the name of two-year-old Elizabeth Lawrence etched into it...’ she related dully.
‘Yes.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Rodney found it?’
‘Yes. Beth—’
‘Don’t, Raphael!’ She held up a hand to ward him away from touching her as he would have moved to her side, unable to so much as look at him as the full shock of what he was saying embedded itself deep inside her.
There was a grave.
With the name of two-year-old Elizabeth Lawrence etched into it.
With her name etched into it.
Except it wasn’t her name.
How could it be, when two-year-old Elizabeth Lawrence had died twenty-one years ago?
And two-year-old Gabriela Navarro had been taken, abducted, to take that other little girl’s place, in the Lawrences’ home as well as their hearts?
And yes, it was the evidence that Beth had said she needed, if she was ever to believe the claim of Carlos and Esther Navarro that she was their missing daughter.
Except it wasn’t.
Not really.
Oh, Beth had verbally denied being Gabriela Navarro, and had physically removed herself from the Navarro family’s vicinity, but deep inside her Beth had known that type of blood test was never wrong, that her likeness to Esther Navarro was too startling to be a coincidence, that the photographs of two-year-old Gabriela Navarro and two-year-old Beth were identical—a likeness, and photographs, that were the main reason for Grace having initially jumped to the conclusion that she had! And now—now there was a grave, with Elizabeth Lawrence’s name on it—
‘Beth?’
She raised bleak brown eyes to look at Raphael as he watched her closely from across the bedroom. ‘I’m really her.’ It was a statement rather than a question.
‘Yes.’
She moistened the dryness of her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Do the Navarros know? About Elizabeth Lawrence’s grave?’
‘Not yet.’ Raphael frowned. ‘As you requested, I have informed you of this development first.’
She swallowed hard. ‘That was very—very thoughtful of you.’
‘I have my moments.’
‘Yes. Yes, you do.’ She nodded. ‘I— Do you also know how it was they managed to replace their dead daughter with me?’
He gave a pained wince. ‘Beth—’
‘Please, Raphael!’
He nodded as he obviously heard the strain in her voice. ‘As you already know, Carla Lawrence was Argentinian by birth. Several of the Lawrences’ neighbours still live in the village of Stopley, and clearly remember the tragic and sudden death of their baby daughter from meningitis—’
‘Oh, God...!’
Raphael frowned at the unnatural pallor of her cheeks. ‘The rest of this can wait until later—’
‘No! No,’ she repeated more calmly as she looked across at Raphael with pleading tear-wet eyes. ‘I—I want to hear it all now. I need to know. Please, Raphael,’ she added gruffly.
He drew in a sharp breath, wishing that he weren’t the one having to tell Beth these things. That she wasn’t going to remember, to associate him with having imparted this knowledge, and hate him for it ever afterwards.
He had become used to Beth’s outspokenness, her feistiness, and her anger, but her aversion to being anywhere near him was something else completely. ‘Would you rather wait until Cesar and Grace arrive to learn all of the details?’
‘Cesar and Grace are coming here?’ She groaned her dismay.
‘They will be.’ Raphael nodded confirmation. ‘Cesar instructed me to inform him the moment I received conclusive proof as to Elizabeth