Catherine Spencer

Mistress on his Terms


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overload of the past night behind her. Foolishly she’d hoped she and Sebastian had reached some sort of truce and his sly insinuations were at an end. But for all that the new day had brought clear skies, from the moment he’d opened his eyes his disposition had been anything but sunny. Perhaps, she’d thought at the time, he just wasn’t a morning person and his mood would eventually improve.

      If anything, though, it worsened. When she’d thanked him for his sympathetic understanding of the night before, he’d shrugged her off with a succinctness that bordered on surly. He’d reacted with near contempt to her enthusiasm for the charming old towns they passed through. Refusing to let him dampen her spirits, she’d remained doggedly cheerful. This latest attack, though, was not something she felt inclined to let pass.

      “I resent that remark, Sebastian. It’s completely un-called for.”

      “Is it? When I woke up this morning, you were pawing through the money I’d left lying on the dresser in that motel room.”

      “I was not! I was looking for your keys so that I could load my luggage in the trunk of your car and be ready to leave the second you decreed we should, as you very well know because I explained it the minute you started leveling accusations at me. And if you’d got up at a reasonable hour, instead of lying around in bed half the morning, I wouldn’t have had occasion to paw through anything belonging to you!”

      “I hardly call getting up at eight o’clock and being on the road by nine ‘lying around in bed half the morning.’”

      “I was up at six.”

      “I didn’t get to sleep until nearly four.”

      “Well, don’t take your insomnia out on me!” she snapped, so exasperated she was ready to crown him with her purse. “It’s not my fault.”

      “Lower your voice and stop waving your arms around like that,” he said. “In case you haven’t noticed, we have an audience.”

      She saw then that the front door of the house stood open and, suddenly, all the silly bickering didn’t matter anymore. “Is that Hugo?” she whispered, her gaze glued to the white-haired man coming down the steps with a silky English setter dancing at his heels.

      “Afraid so,” Sebastian said. “Disappointed it’s not the butler?”

      “No,” she cooed sweetly. “But I wish the dog was a rottweiler and you were its lunch.”

      “Nice,” he said. “Very nice, Ms. Talbot. You’re finally showing your true colors.”

      Smiling determinedly, she hissed, “Why don’t you go jump in the river, Sebastian?” and without waiting for him to hurl something equally rude back at her, climbed out of the car and walked toward the man waiting at the foot of the steps.

      Hugo Preston was almost seventy but didn’t look a day over sixty. Tall and erect, with an enviable head of silver hair and clear blue eyes, he cut a handsome figure. “Well, Lily,” he said warmly as she approached, “we meet at last!”

      “Yes,” she said, all at once awash with conflicting emotions. How did a woman greet the man whose blood ran in her veins but who, for reasons he’d yet to disclose, had chosen to remain incognito until recently? With a kiss, a handshake, a hug?

      What did she call him, now that they were meeting face-to-face? Given his dignified bearing, Hugo suddenly seemed too familiar, and Mr. Preston absurdly formal…but Dad? Neil Talbot had been the man who’d filled that role, and her ties to him were too strong to be so easily severed in favor of this smiling stranger.

      Seeming to sense her uncertainty, Hugo took her hands and kissed her lightly on both cheeks. “My dear daughter, you have no idea what today means to me. I would be deeply honored if, in time, you could bring yourself to call me Father. Until then, I’m Hugo…and this,” he continued, turning to the slender blond woman who’d come out to join him, “is Cynthia, my wife.”

      Cynthia Preston did not fit the image of The Other Woman. Even less did she look or act the part of resentful stepmother. Tall and elegant in a pale bronze two-piece ensemble with gold accessories, she was, quite simply, beautiful. More than that, she was kind. It showed in her smile, and in her sky-blue eyes.

      “I’m so happy to meet you, Lily,” she said, enveloping her in a warm hug. “Hugo has hoped for a long time that this day would come. We both have. And we’re so grateful to you for making it possible. Welcome to our home and please forgive our dog for pawing you like that. She considers herself one of the family.”

      Such total acceptance, following on the heels of Sebastian’s trenchant disapproval, completely undid Lily and, to her embarrassment, she burst into tears. “Thank you,” she wailed, dripping all over Cynthia’s fine silk shirt. “I’m really…very h-happy to be here.”

      “No more than we are to have you.” Slipping an arm around her waist, Cynthia guided her up the steps. “What a dreadful time you had of it yesterday. We were so worried when we heard the news. Let’s go inside and I’ll show you where you can freshen up, then we’ll have lunch and start to get properly acquainted. Sebastian, bring in Lily’s luggage, will you, and take it up to the Rose Room?”

      If she hadn’t found herself such an emotional mess, Lily would have enjoyed watching the almighty Sebastian Caine reduced to the role of porter. But she was too busy mopping up her tears on the linen handkerchief Hugo had produced and trying not to smudge her mascara in the process. She’d taken great pains with her appearance that morning just so that she’d make a good first impression, and here she was, all red-nosed and puffy-eyed within minutes of arriving!

      “I’m not normally like this,” she said apologetically.

      “Nor are we,” Cynthia replied. “But look, Hugo and I are both misty-eyed, too. Family reunions tend to have this effect on people.”

      Unless your name happened to be Sebastian Caine! Lily felt his glare on the back of her neck as he tramped up the stairs with her suitcases, and wondered how he’d manage to sit through the meal and not let fly with one of his barbed remarks.

      As it happened, she worried needlessly. He had someone else to occupy his attention. When Lily joined the rest of the family on the terrace after splashing cold water on her face and running a comb through her hair in the guest powder room, she found another woman had joined the party, and that she considered Sebastian her personal property became immediately apparent.

      “Hello, I’m Penny Stanford,” she said, subjecting Lily to a somewhat clinical inspection. “I wanted to be on hand to meet the long-lost daughter who stole my man away last night.”

      Oh, please, you’re welcome to every miserable inch of him! Lily wanted to say. Oh, and by the way, did you know he has another girlfriend stashed away in the city, and she looks ready to give birth any day now?

      Instead she confined her reply to a noncommittal “How nice to meet you.”

      “I think we could all use a little sherry before we sit down to eat,” Hugo decided. “You and Penny will join us, won’t you, Sebastian?”

      “No, thanks,” he said. “I’ve got a load of paperwork to take care of at the office and Penny’s working the night shift tonight so she needs to get some sleep.”

      “I’m head nurse on the surgical floor at our local hospital,” she informed Lily grandly.

      “I sell flowers,” Lily said.

      “How nice.” Nurse Penny swatted at the English setter. “Do stop sniffing at me like that, Katie! It’s so unhygienic. Well, Sebastian, since I left my car at the stables, I’ll hop a ride over there with you. Shall we go?”

      “Sure.” His glance skimmed over Lily. “Enjoy lunch.”

      Cynthia looked up from her chaise. “You’ll be here for dinner, won’t you, Sebastian?”

      “I hadn’t planned on it.”

      “But