Winds of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

the dark brown eyes that turned a smoldering black when he scowled.

      She idly undid the pins that bound up her hair and let it fall in a luxuriant red-gold cascade about her face and shoulders. Gently she touched her fingertips to her cheeks, searching for the wrinkles she knew were there but everyone said she imagined.

      “Still a beautiful woman,” she remembered Leon saying. She supposed she was, but what did that matter? She had only wanted to be beautiful for Peter, no one else. All she wanted now, she admitted, was to sit here and feel sorry for herself, to wallow in self-pity. It was her right, and that was what she intended to do with the rest of her years.

      Sleep came quickly and with it the same old terrible dreams: Lorna MacNair’s thin, cruel lips sneered at her as she threw back her head and let out a demonic laugh that brought an agonizing cry from Lydia’s mouth.

      At last Lorna had what she’d always wanted...her husband safely entombed in a mausoleum where Lydia could never again take him away from her.

      Suddenly, Lydia felt the bed, the entire room shaking violently. Lydia imagined the ceiling cracking above her head and the plaster and walls caving in on her.

      “Earthquake,” she screamed as she opened her eyes wide with terror and stared around her. The room was still. There was no sound except the voice of Nellie, no motion but the housekeeper’s gentle shaking of her shoulder.

      “You were dreaming again,” Nellie said softly. “It’s the brandy, Lydia. It makes your mind conjure up dreadful old things.”

      Lydia became aware of the bright sunlight pouring through the windows, giving the room a new, sparkling look. “Wh-what time is it?”

      “Ten o’clock. And look at you. Still in the same clothes you wore last night. Here, let me brace you up. I’ve brought your coffee and toast. How do you feel?”

      Lydia ran her hand across her forehead as if to wipe away the dull ache. “How should I feel?” she snapped. Despite her show of irritation, she couldn’t help being thankful that her dreams were gone.

      “Evelyn Clary’s downstairs having breakfast. She said she will not leave the house until she’s talked to you. It’s important, she claims.”

      “Evelyn? Tell her I can’t see her.”

      “She won’t leave, Lydia. She made that perfectly plain. She has a briefcase with her, and whenever I see someone carrying a briefcase I know it means trouble.”

      “Tell Evelyn I will not see her.”

      “Yes, you will see her,” Evelyn said as she came into the room, a black leather case tucked neatly under her arm. Evelyn Clary was not a particularly handsome woman. She had a tailored look about her that clearly proclaimed she was all business. “You’ve avoided me long enough, Lydia. Now I’m going to have my say and you are going to listen.”

      “Please go away,” Lydia said with a wave of her hand.

      “I’m not going anywhere,” Evelyn answered as she pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down. “A long time ago when you first started Empress Cosmetics, you saved me from the streets by giving me a job. You made me a rich and respectable woman, Lydia. I’m not going to sit by and let all we have both worked so hard for be taken away from us.”

      “No one’s taking anything away, Evelyn. I’m sure you and Leon can handle whatever is happening at the office.”

      “Not this,” Evelyn said, unsnapping the briefcase and pulling out a legal document with a blue backing. “A little present for you from Lorna MacNair.” She handed the paper to Lydia.

      “What does that damned woman want from me now?”

      “Everything,” Evelyn said. She took a piece of Lydia’s toast and began munching it as Lydia scanned the document. “Read.”

      Lydia saw the worried look that Evelyn was trying to hide. Slowly she read the legal print. As she scanned the sentences she found her fingers tightening on the page. “What in hell?” she breathed.

      “As I said, that bitch has decided she wants everything you have.”

      “Impossible! Lorna is out of her mind.”

      Evelyn shook her head and leaned forward. “I’ve checked with our lawyers, of course. She has a case, Lydia.” Evelyn’s eyes darkened. “Remember when Peter died and left his cosmetics enterprises to you? MacNair Products wasn’t much competition for our company, but it’s always put out a less expensive line of perfumes and cosmetics and the market for the cheaper stuff is very good these days.”

      “And now Lorna wants it back.”

      “Not only MacNair Products, honey. Lorna wants everything. Unfortunately, when you consolidated MacNair Products into Empress Cosmetics you made it one total entity. Lorna obviously figured you would do that—consolidate the two companies—and she just sat like a fat spider waiting for her chance. Now, as you can see by that notification, Lorna has decided to contest her husband’s will. If she succeeds in convincing the courts that MacNair Products rightfully belongs to Peter’s legal heirs—his wife and children—she will take it away from you. But MacNair Products doesn’t exist as such anymore; it’s now Empress Cosmetics. So you see, unless you fight it, Lorna will get everything and you and I and your family will be back to square one without the proverbial pot, my dear.”

      Lydia looked dazed. “Can she do that?”

      “She sure as hell is going to try,” Evelyn said, pointing to the legal paper.

      “Dear God. I just thought of something,” Lydia gasped.

      “What?”

      Lydia thought back. “Do you recall when I first hired you, Evelyn?”

      “Sure. You’d met that awful Walter Hanover when you and April first came here with the dowager empress’s personal scent. Walter said it could be duplicated and promised to supply the money to set up Empress Cosmetics.”

      “And then he skipped out, leaving us with a pile of debts and very little future.”

      “But we managed to survive rather nicely without Walter,” Evelyn said proudly.

      Lydia shook her head. “Walter had me sign a paper when we started the company. It was to be a fifty-fifty proposition, which was exactly what I wanted. I had no intention of being beholden to Walter, if you know what I mean.”

      Evelyn knew. Walter had wanted to bed Lydia and obviously he had, because he wasn’t the type of man who gave anything without getting something in return. She nodded.

      “Years after Walter skipped out and you and I made a success of our company, he showed up again and laid claim to his fifty percent share. Peter MacNair bought that fifty percent from Walter for an exorbitant price.”

      “So?”

      Lydia ran her hand across her eyes. “Oh, Evelyn, I’d forgotten all about that paper until just now.”

      “What about it? When Peter died and left you everything in his will, his fifty percent interest in Empress Cosmetics automatically became yours.”

      “Not exactly,” Lydia said hesitantly. “You know how I was after Peter died? I didn’t care about much of anything and I wasn’t interested in the company. I’d forgotten all about that paper giving Peter half of everything I owned. Fool that I am, I’d never thought to have Peter reassign that half back to me before he died. That claim was in Peter’s safe in his private study. I never got it. Lorna obviously found it. All that was mentioned in Peter’s will was his bequest to me of MacNair Products. There was no mention of his half interest in Empress Cosmetics. According to the will, the MacNair company went to me and all the other rights and assets in his estate went to Lorna. So Lorna MacNair actually inherited that percentage in our company, Evelyn.”

      “God in heaven,” Evelyn breathed. “That means that in addition to suing for ownership