Gypsy Page 6

  Shay bit her lip to stop herself making the angry retort that sprang to her lips, wanting to question the fact that Lyon could speak with any authority on what was or wasn’t good for her. But today, and now, was not the time to voice her resentment towards Lyon. For whatever reason, and she would never believe it to be out of genuine kindness—Lyon didn’t have a heart to be kind with!—he had advised her grandfather to come here, and for that she mentally thanked him. Mentally, because she would never verbally acknowledge to Lyon how much having her grandfather here at this time meant to her.

  ‘He’s invited me to stay on for a few days,’ her grandfather continued frowningly. ‘But I haven’t accepted yet; I don’t know what your plans are.’

  She was aware of the question in his tone, deliberately turning to the mirror to remove all traces of tears from her cheeks. ‘I have to talk to you later,’ she told him as she readjusted her veil. ‘I was going to fly over to see you after the funeral.’

  He cupped her elbow. ‘Falconer seems to assume you’ll be staying on here.’

  Shay’s mouth tightened. ‘Lyon always did assume too much,’ she bit out icily.

  Grandy turned to her as they reached the suite door. ‘Then you don’t intend staying?’

  She forced the tension from her body, needing desperately to talk to her grandfather, but knowing now was not the time. ‘We’ll talk about it later,’ she assured him warmly. ‘It’s a little complicated.’

  She was aware of his puzzled blue gaze on her, although with his usual thoughtfulness he didn’t pursue the matter when he could see she obviously didn’t want to just yet. He had always been someone she could talk to, who she could go to with her problems, both as a child and a woman, and yet even he didn’t know how extensively Lyon had hurt her, could have no real idea of how much just being in the same house with the other man upset her.

  She hugged his arm to her side. ‘I can’t tell you how much having you here—now—means to me.’ Tears glistened in her eyes once more.

  He gently touched her cheek. ‘I can see how much. I’m going to miss Ricky too.’

  She gave him a grateful smile, knowing he had liked and approved of her husband, that the liking had been mutual, she and Ricky often visiting her grandfather in Ireland even if she refused to include Falconer House in those visits. Only Ricky’s death had been able to force her back here.

  ‘So tell me which of the family vultures are gathered downstairs to get a look at the grieving widow,’ she invited bitterly.

  ‘Shay!’

  ‘Sorry.’ She blushed a little, sorry that her grandfather had to be a witness to the bitterness she felt towards Ricky’s family. ‘What Falconer relatives are gathered downstairs?’ she rephrased the question.

  He shrugged. ‘A couple of dozen assorted uncles, aunts and cousins; I don’t remember any of their names although I was introduced to them,’ he grimaced. ‘Then there’s the three Falconer brothers. And Lyon’s wife. And a rather good-looking young man whom I’ve never seen before.’ Grandy frowned.

  Shay also frowned at the mention of the latter; she was definitely not in the mood to meet a complete stranger. It was bad enough that she had the family to contend with without that. And Marilyn Falconer. It was years since she had seen the other woman, but as Lyon’s wife Marilyn had been destined to take an instant dislike to Shay, and the feeling was mutual. Marilyn was everything that Shay wasn’t, at thirty-five more Lyon’s own age, sophisticated, petite, with glorious red hair and an incredibly beautiful face. And when they first met she had been Lyon’s wife for over five years, a fact she had taken great pleasure in relating to Shay.

  She had known she would have to see the other woman again while she was here, but it hadn’t been something she welcomed for today. Or having to be with a man she had never met before. If she didn’t know the man then Ricky probably hadn’t either, and if the two men hadn’t known each other he had no right to be at Ricky’s funeral.

  She could see the cars lining the driveway as she and Grandy walked down the stairs, feeling her heart lurch at the sight of them, her hand clutching tightly to her grandfather’s arm as they entered the lounge together.

  It wasn’t so much a funeral as a social gathering, the ‘assorted uncles, aunts and cousins’ talking about the room in small groups, with the beautiful Marilyn playing the hostess as she flitted from group to group. Lyon, Matthew and Neil were together in front of the unlit fireplace, a tall dark-haired man whom she didn’t recognise standing at Neil’s side; obviously the man her grandfather had spoken of. Shay didn’t know him she was sure of it, although he looked pleasant enough, and she dismissed him of being any threat to her peace of mind as she felt tawny eyes on her, Lyon much more of a threat than the innocuous stranger could ever be.

  She turned coolly to meet Lyon’s gaze, tensing as he spoke briefly to the other men before coming over to where she stood with her grandfather, the rest of the Falconer family too polite to stare openly, although she sensed quite a few of them giving her sideways glances.

  ‘I hope it wasn’t too much of a shock seeing your grandfather so suddenly,’ Lyon spoke smoothly.

  ‘It was a pleasant surprise,’ she corrected. ‘Although he really shouldn’t have been encouraged to face the strain of travelling,’ she added critically, Lyon as aware of her grandfather’s condition as she was.

  His mouth tightened at the rebuke. ‘If you’re ready to leave now …?’

  Shay nodded coldly, keeping her gaze averted from the rest of the people gathered in the room, although she knew several of them were openly watching her now. ‘My grandfather will travel with me,’ she announced curtly.

  ‘Of course,’ Lyon nodded, as if he had expected it to be no other way.

  ‘Just my grandfather,’ she added pointedly.

  ‘Shay—’

  ‘I trust you have no objections?’ Shay met Lyon’s gaze challengingly.

  He looked as if he had plenty. ‘Not if it’s what you want,’ he rasped.

  ‘Oh, it is.’ She ignored her grandfather’s dismayed expression; not even for him could she be polite to this man she so despised. And the idea of revealing, in front of Lyon, the grief she felt whenever she thought of burying Ricky, was totally unacceptable to her. She wanted her grandfather at her side, no one else.

  The drive to the church was made in silence, the ceremony brief and poignant, the small ceremony outside the greatest test of Shay’s strength. And as the vicar’s words began to rush blackly at her with alarming speed, she knew she wasn’t going to make it.

  And then strong hands grasped her shoulders, tilting her world back on its axis, and Shay turned to Lyon with blazing violet eyes. ‘Take your hands off me!’ she flared vehemently.

  He seemed to pale, his hands slowly dropping back to his sides. ‘I thought you were going to fall,’ he muttered huskily.

  She gave him a look that clearly told him she would have preferred that to having him touch her in any way, turning sharply to go to the graveside and make her silent goodbyes to Ricky, her walk back to the car made alone, her head back proudly as the tears fell.

  ‘You’ve changed, Shay,’ remarked a mocking voice.

  She turned before reaching the door of the car that Jeffrey held open for her, her gaze cool on Marilyn Falconer, the other woman as beautiful as ever. ‘Sorry?’ She arched dark brows.

  Marilyn looked beautiful in the clinging black gown designed to emphasise her voluptuous figure; the fullness of her breasts, her slender waist, and femininely curving hips. At her side was the man Shay didn’t know. He smiled at her in an awkward way, seeming uncomfortable with the situation, and Shay wondered at the emotion from a complete stranger.

  ‘As I remember it,’ Marilyn drawled in her throaty voice, ‘you never used to be averse to my husband’s touch in that way!’ Blue eyes glittered challengingly.

  That the other woman had enjoyed witnessing the encounter between Shay and Lyon was obvious, that she took great pleasure i
n drawing attention to Shay’s past relationship with Lyon, even at the funeral of Shay’s own husband, showed that Marilyn hadn’t changed at all in the last few years, that she was still a vindictive bitch.

  ‘I really don’t care to discuss it, Marilyn,’ Shay dismissed, looking pointedly at Marilyn’s companion.

  ‘Oh, don’t mind Derrick,’ Marilyn said airily. ‘He’s well aware of your past relationship with Lyon. I take it it is still in the past?’ she added tauntingly.

  Shay felt the colour drain from her face. ‘Very much so,’ she bit out, ignoring the listening Derrick as the other woman seemed inclined to do so. ‘You’re more than welcome to him!’

  Marilyn’s eyes widened. ‘But, my dear Shay, I no longer want him. Didn’t you know that?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘Time to go, Shay,’ her grandfather spoke sternly at her side. ‘If you’ll excuse us?’ He looked coldly at Marilyn and Derrick. ‘What was that bitch saying to you?’ he asked harshly once they were in the car as it moved smoothly down the narrow driveway to the road.

  ‘Grandy!’ she gasped.

  He looked unperturbed at his uncharacteristic display of antagonism for the woman he barely knew. ‘You went as white as a sheet as soon as she spoke to you,’ he said grimly. ‘I couldn’t let that continue.’

  Shay was still inwardly ricocheting from the shock of what Marilyn had just said. Oh, not the other woman’s insensitivity in questioning the relationship between her and Lyon now; Marilyn had never been known for her diplomacy, especially where Lyon was concerned. What shocked her so much was the last claim Marilyn made, about no longer wanting Lyon. Surely the other couple couldn’t finally be going to divorce each other? Six years ago she had believed that would never be possible, Lyon had convinced her that it wouldn’t.

  The Falconer office grapevine had usually been correct, if sometimes slightly exaggerated in its information, but about the relationship between Lyon and his wife they had been completely wrong; the couple still lived together, were still married, and intended staying that way.

  Shay hadn’t been able to understand the sort of marriage they had. A ‘modern arrangement’, they called it, each having their own ‘friends’, bringing those friends to meet the rest of the family at Falconer House, even sleeping with those partners there, but neither having the intention or inclination to end their own marriage. Unfortunately, Shay hadn’t discovered that until her love for Lyon had been such a fundamental part of her life that to rip him out of her heart had been to destroy herself.

  And if the couple were finally to divorce, whose decision had it been to end their ‘modern arrangement’? Lyon had made it plain six years ago that he would never make that choice.

  ‘It was nothing, Grandy,’ she dismissed as she realised her grandfather still looked concerned. ‘Marilyn and I have never pretended to be friends.’ Shay’s tone was scornful, her composure back in place. ‘We never could be.’

  ‘Nevertheless—’

  ‘Don’t give it another thought, Grandy.’ She squeezed his arm reassuringly. ‘I’m not going to.’

  He didn’t look convinced by her dismissal of the other woman, but he wisely didn’t pursue it any further. But he did stay close by her side once they arrived back at the house, glowering fiercely at any member of the Falconer family that dared to talk to her. Shay was amused by his protectiveness, grateful to have him there, knowing he had helped her get through a very difficult time.

  Finally the guests began to leave, only the close family left; Shay and her grandfather, the three Falconer men, Marilyn, and finally the man Derrick. Shay had stopped feeling curious about him, the man was quite innocuous, in fact he barely spoke to anyone.

  ‘Thank God that’s over,’ Marilyn said in a bored voice once the final relative had left. ‘Perhaps now we can have something a little stronger to drink than sherry!’ She moved to the extensive array of drinks on the side table.

  ‘Isn’t it a little early in the day for that, even for you?’ Matthew drawled caustically.

  She flashed him an angry look before turning to her husband. ‘Lyon?’ She snapped.

  He gave a disinterested shrug. ‘Help yourself,’ he invited wearily.

  She gave Matthew a triumphant smile. ‘Anyone else?’ she offered.

  No one answered, and Marilyn helped herself to a liberal amount of whisky before making herself comfortable in one of the armchairs, crossing one silky leg over the other. ‘Now isn’t this cosy?’ she said to no one in particular.

  ‘I would hardly call it that.’ Once again Matthew was the one to answer her.

  ‘Civilised, then.’ Marilyn sipped her whisky with enjoyment. ‘Very civilised,’ she repeated thoughtfully.

  ‘Marilyn—’

  ‘I mean,’ she continued talking as if Lyon hadn’t spoken, ‘where else would you find a husband and wife, a wife’s lover, and the husband’s ex-lover all gathered in the same room?’ She looked guilelessly about the room at the stunned people standing there.

  The silence was deafening; Shay had always thought that a contradiction in terms, but at that moment she understood what it meant perfectly. The silence was deafening, everyone speechless after Marilyn’s casually vindictive statement.

  To Shay’s surprise it was Neil who answered Marilyn this time. ‘Your idea of civilisation would disgust even the animal kingdom!’ he spat out contemptuously, striding from the room.

  ‘One down, five to go,’ Marilyn taunted unconcernedly.

  Shay felt her grandfather stiffen at her side. ‘Your behaviour, madam, at a time like this,’ he spoke coldly to Marilyn, ‘is enough to make a saint leave any room you occupy.’

  ‘Marilyn—’

  ‘Don’t look so worried, darling,’ she laughed lightly as the man called Derrick spoke warningly. ‘Patrick won’t really leave, will you?’ She turned to Shay’s grandfather. ‘I don’t believe you’ve been properly introduced to my fiancé,’ she continued brightly without waiting for him to answer. ‘Have you?’ she challenged.

  ‘No,’ he replied tersely.

  Shay finally had her answer as to exactly who the man Derrick was, although she had guessed a few minutes ago that he had to be the lover Marilyn had spoken about; it certainly wasn’t Matthew or Neil! But she had had no idea of Derrick’s existence, or that Marilyn and Lyon were at last to divorce; Ricky had never mentioned it to her. Although in the circumstances perhaps that was understandable, she had shown little interest in any member of his family over the last few years.

  Marilyn introduced her fiancé as Derrick Stewartby, a fellow lawyer.

  ‘We’ll be married as soon as my divorce from Lyon is complete, some time in the new year,’ she added with satisfaction. ‘Although, of course, you won’t still be here then, will you, Shay?’

  ‘Won’t I?’ Shay returned stiffly, irritated at the other woman’s almost triumphant tone.

  Marilyn gave her a sharp look. ‘Surely you’ll be returning to America soon to resume your career?’

  Shay wasn’t fooled for a moment by the other woman’s attempt at lightness; the thought that she might be here when Lyon was finally a free man bothered Marilyn very much. She needn’t have worried, Lyon could have been free years ago and it wouldn’t have mattered to Shay.

  ‘I can write anywhere,’ she said softly, sensing that Marilyn was far from the only person in the room that was tense as they waited for her answer. But she looked at no one else but Marilyn.

  ‘You intend staying on here?’ The other woman frowned her displeasure at that idea.

  ‘Not at the house, no,’ Shay dismissed the idea with a mental shudder. ‘But in England, yes. You see,’ she added softly, ‘I want my child to be born here.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  OH GOD, had she really told them there was to be a child! She hadn’t meant to break the news of her pregnancy quite so bluntly, had wanted her grandfather to the be first to know, had intended telling him when they were alone later. But it was done no
w, an act of defensive retaliation because of Marilyn’s condescending attitude, an emotion she was incapable of preventing even after all this time.

  The reactions of the people in the room varied dramatically, and it would have been amusing if it weren’t the child she and Ricky had created before his death that caused these mercurial reactions.

  Her grandfather, she could tell, was ecstatic, Matthew looked pleased too, Derrick Stewartby seemed dazed by the whole conversation, although he was concerned at the pale fury in his fiancée’s face. And lastly Lyon. Shay looked at him challengingly, stunned at how grey he had become, his eyes appearing a pure molten gold. And she knew the reason for his anger, her baby meaning she would remain an integral part of the Falconer family. But if Lyon believed she was any more enamoured of that idea than he was he was very much mistaken; she hated it. But at the same time she didn’t intend to deny her child its birthright just because she detested its uncle.

  ‘That’s wonderful, darlin’.’ Her grandfather was the first to recover from the shock of her announcement, hugging her tightly. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how pleased I am for you.’

  She could see and feel his pleasure, returning his hug. ‘Thank you,’ she said tearfully.

  ‘I’m happy for you too.’ Matthew moved forward to squeeze her hand. ‘Did Ricky know?’ he asked gruffly.

  Shay’s smile gentled. ‘We found out a few days before he disappeared. He was very excited at the prospect of becoming a father,’ she assured his brother softly.

  ‘Just when can we expect this—the baby to make an appearance?’ Marilyn demanded sharply.

  Shay sobered as she turned to the other woman. ‘I expect the baby to be born in just over five months.’ Her mouth twisted as Marilyn’s gaze moved sceptically to the flatness of her stomach beneath the soft material of her black dress. ‘I can assure you I am almost four months’ pregnant,’ she drawled derisively at the lack of subtlety.