Her Foreign Affair (32 page)

He turned at a gasp from Birdie. “Yes, damn bloody over-dramatized, Victorian novel material,” Court snarled. “I was caught up, and every time I tried to escape, my path was blocked either by Beatrice and her father, or my father. It was almost a bloody shotgun wedding. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’d just issued an informal invitation to Danielle for Saturday next when her eyes shifted to a spot over my shoulder and her face went still, frozen in a look of horror so unlike her I had to turn to see what caused it.”

Stopping by her chair, Court touched Birdie’s cheek with two fingers, and she had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“I turned, and I saw…the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen until the day you took us home. Jean, my little ray of sunshine, dressed in a sparkling black cocktail gown that paled against the glow of her skin. Skin that turned a shade of ash as we gaped at each other. What I remember most were those green, green eyes, wide and watery. And one more thing that makes sense now. One trembling hand over her abdomen. At the time, I thought it was the return of the stomach ailment she’d been fighting all week. But now, I realize, she’d come to tell me she carried a precious gift.”

As he stared down at his daughter, he saw her swallow deeply, as caught up in the story as he, anguish in her eyes mirroring the ache in his heart. “I swear, had she told me about you then, I would have grabbed her hand and run us both to the airport for the next flight anywhere.”

“What about…Drew?”

“I would have come back for him later, but at the time, I couldn’t think that rationally. I tried to go after her, but both my father and Bea’s grabbed me and hustled me out the other door. I was packed and driven to the country where they kept me occupied, pounding my duty into my head right up until the wedding. By then I’d tried calling your mum and had my calls rejected. A month or so later I was able to get a letter or two posted, and believe me, Bea made quite sure I knew the letters were returned unopened.” He let his hand drop and stepped back from the girl. “I only had so much control, and faced with rejection, well…” He spread his hands in a gesture of futility. “I made the best of my life as the Fates had decreed it would be.”

Too weary to carry on at the moment, he lowered himself into the other wing chair and picked up his now cold tea. “I got Drew away from his mother as much as I could and let him be a real kid, instead of the miniature lord she wanted. I tolerated marriage to Bea for the sake of both families until I couldn’t stand it anymore. And when she died, Drew was in his version of the difficult teen years and took as much attention as the business. I had neither the time nor the courage to go searching for my lost love until this year. The rest…well, you know. Except the reason why your mother won’t talk to me now? Did she tell you?”

“No, she didn’t. I’m sorry I don’t know. She won’t say anything about New York other than she had a great time but got tired of shopping and decided to come home early.”

“Not that she bought much,” Court muttered to himself. Nothing at all on the credit cards tucked away in his wallet. “Anyhow, now you’re here and the two of us can get to know each other. You’ll see how Drew grew up and gain a little understanding how life is around here. I don’t expect you to be a go-between for the issue between your mother and me. We’ll work it out ourselves. Somehow.”

For a moment, Birdie smiled softly at him, looking more like her mother than he’d ever seen. “So that brings us to your side of the family and how they’ll react to me showing up. After your story, I can imagine how
un
thrilled your mother might be.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can stay out of her way as much or as little as you like. Your grandmother is staying in the parlor we’ve converted to a convalescent room for her. I imagine she’ll hold court from there until she’s ready to go home. She has her own busy life in London. Even though we live only a few miles from each other in town, we only see each other out here for holidays. Christmas, Easter, and the like.”

“We see my grandfather at least once a month, sometimes more if he’s feeling lonely.”

Court gulped down the tea in his cup and leaned toward the trolley to refill it. “I don’t remember your mother being close to him.”

“Mmm.” Birdie gazed into the fire almost as if the dancing flames hypnotized her, cup and saucer held in her hand forgotten. “When Grandma got sick, it changed things. Dad spent more time running the business while Mom and Grandpa took turns taking care of Grandma. I was pretty young, so I wasn’t part of those conversations, but they worked out a few things between them.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

They sat in silence for long minutes, simply being and enjoying the crackle of the flames consuming the wood. A sigh softly broke the silence, and Court glanced over to see Birdie’s eyes drooping. He reached over and took the cup and saucer from her hands. Birdie’s eyes blinked open owlishly.

Just like Drew’s used to do.

Instinct kicked in, and Court almost didn’t stop before bending to pick her up to carry her to bed. “Come on, puddin’, I’ll show you to your room.”

Court stood by her chair and offered her a hand up. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, she stood and moved into his arms for another hug, this one freely given. In that moment, his heart was irrevocably captured by his little girl. This was his daughter, by God, and nothing or no one would stand in the way of them getting to know each other. He belonged to her, and whether or not she ever called him Father or Daddy, she had a firm hold on a corner of his heart reserved just for her.

The simple affirmation brushed away the cloud of gloom that had been hanging over his head while managing his mother’s crisis. This Christmas would be absolutely perfect. For once his family would be whole. As whole as it could be without Randi there to share it. But Randi or not, Birdie was his, a part of him, and she was there to stay.

“Randi, please, you must come for Christmas. If nothing else, you’ve got to come and get Birdie.” Court clutched the cordless phone to his ear when he really wanted to bang his head against the mantel in his library. Someone needed to referee. His mother, the old bat, and Birdie, the young hellion, had instantly taken to each other like Death to his scythe.

They had a love-hate relationship born in hell as far as he could ascertain. Helen sniped at Birdie, correcting her speech, her manners, posture, and anything else she could find wrong. Birdie sniped back, defying every instruction to the older woman’s face all while playing nurse without a heart. Even the peacemakers, Liza and Drew, had given up after less than twenty four hours and retreated to their corners. After only one day home, Drew had fled to spend time with friends in the village, and Liza took her children on errands to buy last minute gifts. Albert hid out in the library with Court while his mother and daughter sparred in the parlor, seemingly adoring every minute of the last three days of their icily conducted war and physical therapy.

Before decamping, Drew had taken a moment to pass on Randi’s reaction to Birdie’s escape. While the call upon her arrival had relieved Randi’s worries, it had also seemingly sent her into a deep blue funk. RJ hadn’t said anything to Drew specifically, but he’d shown a deep level of concern, and, before leaving for the airport, Drew had overheard a conversation regarding depression and an inquiry about medications. He seemed to think at some point Randi might have suffered a debilitating round of the condition and wondered if it’d returned.

“Court.”

The weariness in Randi’s voice came through the phone, but he had no room to worry about it. Couldn’t worry about it, or he’d start wondering if Doyle was there and if he were the reason for her fatigue. Or he’d worry that she might be slipping into a deep, dark hole. No, he had to convince her to come to him, and if it required bribery and tough love, then so be it. Not to mention, he really wanted her here, and he wasn’t above taking advantage of the situation with their daughter.

“You’re the one who extended an open invitation to Birdie,” Randi continued right over his paranoia and justifications. “I’m
persona non grata
at the moment. I don’t know what I said to her, but the last week of school, she quit talking to me again, so you get to be the hero. If you’ve changed your mind about spending time with your daughter, then you need to tell her. Lay down the law. She has a choice—straighten up or pack up. You don’t have to tolerate bad behavior.”

“That’s just the thing, darling girl, she isn’t behaving any worse than her grandmother. Underneath it all, they seem to actually like each other, and Birdie’s the only one who can get Mum to do her exercises, but heaven forbid they admit it out loud. It’s downright terrifying.” Truly, he found it somewhat endearing as he hadn’t expected his mother to speak to Birdie, much less let her take over as caregiver. Mum might never get to the hearts and flowers stage with Birdie, but Birdie was earning the old woman’s respect. Now, if the rest of them could live through it…

“I can’t do a thing about it, Court. You’re a parent, surely you have some idea how to resolve these situations.”

“I haven’t a clue, love. I need you, Randi.” There, he’d admitted weakness. Blast it all, this was a woman’s domain, and he was man enough to admit he needed her.

The heaviness of her sigh weighed down his heart. “Typical. The flood waters rise up to their ankles, and men start screaming they’re drowning.”

“Sure, scoff all you want, you’ve got peace and quiet for the holidays. I’ve got high court drama with the princess challenging the dowager. I need you, the queen, to intercede and put them both in their places. Please, Randi. You’ve got me begging here. I’ll do anything. I’ll buy first class tickets. I’ll buy a Rolls and liveried driver to meet you at the airport. I’ll buy you all the diamonds, furs, and silks we never got the chance to buy in New…” The words dried up as an unseen hand clenched around his throat.

So far, she’d carefully dodged this topic. Something still bugged her, some detail she held back. If only he could get her to spit it out. If only he could get her to explain Doyle’s presence, leaving with her and later, answering her phone.

Silence, heavy with unspoken accusations, stretched out across the satellite link until she spoke. “Did it ever occur to you I went to New York to be with you, not because I wanted a sugar daddy, Court?” Randi said so softly he barely heard her. “I don’t want your money. I didn’t want your money or pricey gifts in New York. I certainly hope you don’t deal with Birdie by throwing money at her.”

Surprise, so strong he straightened up, hit him like a fist between the eyes. “Is that what you think—thought?” The completely foreign concept as it applied to Randi stunned him to speechlessness.

“Court…” Randi sighed. “No, you don’t get it, and if you don’t understand it, then I certainly can’t explain it to you.”

“No, no, no, no, no.” He pounded a fist on the mantel. “You do not get to throw out lines like that. No way. I don’t accept it. You don’t know what I do or don’t understand. You’ll have to spell it out for me. I’m not a bloody mind reader, especially from ten thousand miles away.”

“And you don’t know what I do or don’t want from you.”

“Do you even know? I know what I want from you, and it isn’t purely sex.” Though, if he had to admit it, the sex was spectacular enough to almost be a good enough reason in and of itself.

“You could have fooled me. I don’t want to be bought off with credit cards and fancy trips as if I were the flavor of the week! Just one more of your quote-unquote professional girlfriends. Or do you call them escorts? Surely they weren’t merely dates.”

Okay, he’d wanted her to spill it. It certainly wasn’t what he’d expected, however, she didn’t sound depressed anymore. Anger was good, right? Anger was better than cold indifference and apathy. For the first time in weeks he felt energized and smiled into the phone. Finally, a breakthrough. Now, what the bloody hell was she going on about?

“A professional girlfriend? Did I treat you like a call girl? Is that what you thought? Is that why you left?”

“It’s only one reason why I left. I understood you had business, and that’s okay. But we were wrong to try and mix a pleasure trip with your business trip. I wouldn’t have minded waiting around for you if I’d thought I wasn’t just another Catherine waiting in your bed for you to have time to notice me. I would have stayed if I’d been sure…”

How could she ever think he considered her a casual woman? He knew he’d screwed up the week, but to make her feel disposable when she was anything but? Completely bewildered, he shook his head. “Sure of what? My affections? My God, I didn’t invite you just so I could have a bedmate for the week. I thought I’d been clear about my feelings for you. If you’d stayed just fifteen minutes longer, the business was done, and I had plans to make up for all the time I didn’t mean to leave you on your own. Randi, I wanted you there because I love being with you. I meant for us to never be separated again.”

Not a word from Randi, but he’d almost swear on a stack of bibles she was crying. He’d already gotten the message about the credit cards being a mistake. The few purchases she had made hadn’t been on his cards. Had she really thought he’d been trying to pay her for sex? He felt like the lowest dog in the alley, but he’d sparked an emotional response from her. That had to mean something, and it gave him the faintest glimmer of hope.

“Granted,”—he kept speaking, hoping he’d stumble on the right combination of words to break this numbing deadlock—“just as you were driving away I got word of my mother’s accident, but I would have brought you home with me. I wouldn’t have sent you back to California. I’d counted on New York as a stepping stone to London. I fully intended to ease you around the world, and back into my life, step by step.”

He heard the muffled sound of her blowing her nose.

“Darling, won’t you tell me what happened? What sent you running for home?”

Silence from her end frightened him into believing she’d set the phone down and didn’t hear the last question. A louder sniffle came across the line. No, she was still there. He went for broke.