Carole Mortimer Romance Collection. Carole Mortimer

      ‘Lyon...’ Silke realised breathlessly; it was difficult to think of that autocratic man as a tiny parentless baby, completely helpless. In fact, she didn’t want to think of him like that; it made him seem human!

      ‘Lyon,’ her mother confirmed with a nod. ‘Hal was named as his guardian.’

      That explained some of this, but by no means all of it. ‘But surely Henry needed you more than ever after being left with such a small baby to care for?’

      ‘Henry needed me; in fact our marriage had already been announced when the accident happened—’

      ‘Then why—?’

      ‘Charles Buchanan’s family were even more powerful than Henry’s.’ Her mother shook her head. ‘A rich Southern family, who weren’t averse to using that power when it came to the Winter-Buchanan heir. And there was no way they were going to let an ex-office girl bring up that heir, so they demanded that the child be returned to them in America.’

      ‘But Henry was his legal guardian,’ Silke reasoned.

      ‘A fact the Buchanan family disputed. They instigated a court case, claimed Henry wasn’t fit to bring up a child, intending to bring up his reckless past... Oh, I knew even then that Hal had lived a far from blameless life,’ she said ruefully as Silke’s brows rose. ‘Just as I knew he would be completely faithful to me now that we had found each other. It was that sort of love, Silke.’ She smiled. ‘All-consuming.’ She sobered, her eyes cloudy once again. ‘But they would have crucified Hal if he had married me, were completely ruthless in their determination to take the child away from him. I was the stumbling-block, Silke, and, much as I loved Hal, I—I couldn’t let him give up his sister’s child for me. Because the Buchanans would have won, Silke, I know it. And that knowledge would have been between us, tearing into a relationship that was already having to survive so many prejudices—’

      ‘You would have survived as a couple, I’m sure of it,’ Silke said with certainty.

      ‘But at what price?’ Her mother shook her head.

      ‘And so you ran?’ Silke frowned.

      Her mother nodded. ‘And so I ran,’ she confirmed heavily. ‘I thought Hal would get over me, that he would find someone—someone more suitable, acceptable, provide a stable home for his nephew—’

      ‘And instead he has continued to love you. God, that’s such a waste, Mummy!’ Her expression was pained.

      ‘I was eighteen, Silke. Eighteen!’ Her mother looked at her pleadingly. ‘I wasn’t mature enough, or strong enough, to believe we could weather that legal storm. I thought it fairer to Hal not to put him through—’

      ‘Mummy, the man has continued to love you for thirty-five years.’ Silke was still stunned by the fact.

      ‘And I’ve loved him too, Silke,’ her mother told her quietly. ‘Through the same thirty-five years, all the running, I’ve loved him too.’

      She could see that, could see the pain etched into her mother’s face at the memory of those lonely years without the man she loved. ‘Perhaps—and I’m only saying perhaps—I can understand why you didn’t feel able to cope with all of that at eighteen. I’m not sure any eighteen-year-old could,’ she frowned. ‘But later, why didn’t you—?’

      ‘I thought it would be too late,’ her mother groaned. ‘I told you, I thought Hal would have found someone else, had children of his own to keep Lyon company.’ She shook her head. ‘I never for one moment thought he would remain a bachelor.’

      ‘Didn’t you even once think of trying to find out?’ Silke said incredulously, wondering if, in the same circumstances, she would have been able to do what her mother had done.

      Her mother shook her head. ‘I didn’t dare.’ Her voice broke emotionally. ‘It was what I had hoped he would do, for his own sake and Lyon’s, but to actually know for certain...!’ she added with feeling. ‘No,’ she said dully. ‘I never tried to find out, Silke.’

      ‘But if you had—’

      ‘I would never have had you,’ her mother pointed out gently. ‘And although I appreciate I haven’t been the best mother in the world, I wouldn’t have missed that experience for anything.’

      Silke gave her a teasing smile. ‘I’m glad you didn’t! But didn’t you realise,’ she frowned, ‘when you sent me to Buchanan’s yesterday morning, that it was the same family?’

      ‘Of course I knew it was the same family.’ Her mother nodded. ‘But it was a good account; I certainly didn’t expect you to meet Lyon Buchanan himself! And if it hadn’t been for the mistake over the bunny girl costume—’

      ‘Could we forget about the bunny girl costume?’ Silke cringed at the memory still.

      ‘I wouldn’t have met Henry again if it weren’t for that costume.’ Her mother shook her head.

      And she wouldn’t have met Lyon! ‘You know, Mummy,’ Silke said slowly, ‘for all that I wouldn’t have been born if you had married Henry all those years ago, think what a difference you could have made to Lyon as his “mother”; he’s so bitter and twisted it’s unbelievable!’

      Her mother nodded. ‘Hal would be the first to admit he didn’t do a very good job of bringing Lyon up on his own. A question of a cynic bringing up a cynic! Hal was very upset after I left.’ She grimaced. ‘Didn’t relish the idea of caring for a small baby, left it to hired staff most of the time. And while Lyon was growing up there were apparently always too many women interested in that vast Winter-Buchanan fortune that he inherited the majority of when he reached twenty-one.’

      Silke could easily believe that, and was sure that Lyon had little idea what the ‘real world’ and ‘real people’ were like, that his cynicism owed more to the women he had met in his life than to the way Henry had brought him up. He had lived in too rarefied an atmosphere to appreciate that there were women in the world who wouldn’t want him for his money and the prestige of being his wife. But she didn’t want to be one of those women, didn’t want to want him—in any way!

      ‘Hal and Satin?’ she prompted teasingly, anxious to put all thoughts of Lyon from her mind now.

      Her mother blushed becomingly. ‘Hal is obvious, I think. Satin because—well, Hal always said I had skin like satin.’ Her blush deepened. ‘The years haven’t been that kind to me.’ She grimaced. ‘So he’s going to find I’m not quite as—’

      ‘Mummy, the man loves you,’ Silke cut in protestingly. ‘He isn’t going to worry about things like that. And neither should you.’

      But Silke had to admit that she was worried; Lyon was going to be in her life for a long time to come. And after her reaction to him this morning, she wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with that.

      * * *

      It was like waiting for the sword of Damocles to drop. Three days. Three days since Henry Winter had told Lyon that he was going to marry her mother. Three days in which there had been complete silence from the man himself.

      And Silke didn’t like it. Not one little bit. Her mother seemed to think she was worrying unnecessarily, that Henry’s talk with the younger man had obviously proved fruitful, but Silke’s own encounters with the man led her to believe otherwise. She didn’t believe for a moment that Lyon was going to accept this situation with the calm indifference he appeared to be.

      She was right!

      ‘For someone who “doesn’t even work at the agency” you seem to spend an awful lot of time here,’ drawled a mockingly derisive voice.

      Silke looked up sharply from her seat behind her mother’s desk where she had been working, looking across the room at Lyon. As usual he had walked in unannounced. ‘Don’t you ever knock, Lyon?’ she scorned as she closed the