had been spared the pain she was still suffering, the pain of losing Perry.
No one knew or could understand the loss she felt at Perry’s death, not even those closest to her. And no one knew how she feared death for herself…
She breakfasted alone the next morning, as she had for the last six months, before tidying the apartment. Not that it needed much of that, one person didn’t make much mess, and because she and Perry had spent most of their marriage living out of suitcases she had learnt not to have too many personal possessions, so the apartment was bare of all personal imprint.
It was a new apartment since Perry’s death, the one they had used as their home-base when in London had been on the other side of town. But photographs of Perry were prominent in every room, photographs of him racing, of him winning, of the two of them together. Most of them were from before Perry’s first accident, the one that had precipitated the end of his career. A serious back injury meant the end of his career as a top racing car driver six months before his death, and she knew it had been a blow Perry had never fully recovered from. Racing had been his life, his career, and for a time he had gone wild.
Damn Rick Dalmont! She knew he was the reason for the memories. What else could she do but remember when he had pointed out so forcibly that all had not been well between Perry and herself at the time of the fatal accident? But he had been right about one thing, the fault in the marriage had been hers, not Perry’s. It was true that when a man couldn’t find satisfaction in his own bed he turned elsewhere for solace. Perry had done just that.
None of her sleepless night showed as Janice opened the door to her shortly before twelve, her expression coolly composed, looking elegant in a dress the same green of her eyes, its long-sleeved, high-necked style more provocative than a more seductive style could be.
‘I’ll never know how you do it,’ said a harassed-looking Janice, her blonde curls in disarray, a smudge of flour on her nose. ‘You always look like a fashion-plate, and I—Well, I look what I am, I suppose, a housewife.’
‘A beautiful housewife,’ Shanna smiled, kissing her sister-in-law affectionately on the cheek. ‘And I look this way because I go out to lunch,’ she laughed.
‘Hm,’ Janice acknowledged wryly. ‘Although that doesn’t explain how you still look this way when we come to your apartment for dinner too.’
‘Caterers,’ she taunted dryly.
‘You know you’re a fantastic cook,’ Janice dismissed with a sigh. ‘Well, I’d better not keep you from Peter and Susan any longer. They’re waiting for you in the lounge.’
The next few minutes were taken up with the ecstatic greetings of her young niece and nephew, although Shanna had time to realise that there was no sign in the spotlessly clean lounge of the smoky party of the night before.
Peter and Susan were five and six respectively, as alike as if they had been twins, both fair-haired and blue-eyed like their mother, although they had their father’s height and were both inclined to be serious like Henry too. But they were lovely children, and Shanna greeted them as enthusiastically as they did her.
Henry sat back in his favourite armchair and watched them with an indulgent smile on his lips, puffing away on his favourite pipe; an affectation he believed gave him a look of distinction. It just made him more endearing to Shanna. She and Henry had always been close, despite the difference in their natures, but as the time for lunch neared and Henry still made no effort to bring up the subject of Rick Dalmont she decided to broach the subject herself.
‘Henry——’
‘Lunch is ready,’ Janice came through to announce.
Henry gave a pleased smile as he stood up. ‘Thank you, darling.’
‘I’ll give you thank you!’ Shanna muttered as she accompanied her brother through to the dining-room. ‘You won’t get away so easily after lunch.’
He turned to grin at her. ‘But at least then I’ll have a full stomach!’
‘It won’t help you,’ she warned.
‘Maybe not, but you’ll seem less fierce once I’ve eaten.’
‘Fierce, Henry?’ she spluttered. ‘I’ve never been fierce in my life!’
He shook his head. ‘Sometimes you remind me so much of Dad it’s incredible.’
‘Dad was a lovely old man, despite his crustiness; I can’t see the resemblance at all,’ Shanna smiled.
‘Oh, it’s there. I’ve seen it in your handling of Rick Dal——’
‘—Mont,’ she finished triumphantly. ‘I’m so glad you haven’t forgotten about him, Henry.’
‘No,’ he mumbled. ‘But lunch first, hmm?’
‘But no longer,’ she warned. ‘My patience is wearing a little thin, Henry.’
‘I didn’t know you had any!’
Shanna grinned at his woebegone expression, and her good humour lasted all through the delicious Sunday lunch Janice had prepared. Peter and Susan helped her with the washing-up afterwards, then she carried through a tray of tea to her brother and Janice, arching her brows at Henry as he seemed settled in front of the television.
‘Henry and I will take our tea through to the study,’ she announced firmly. ‘Won’t we, Henry?’ She looked at him steadily.
‘Will we?’ He sighed at her stubborn expression. ‘I suppose we will.’ He stood up reluctantly.
‘I won’t keep him long, Janice,’ she promised.
‘Oh, I think you will,’ her sister-in-law said knowingly. ‘Good luck, Henry.’
‘She sounded as if she thought you might need it,’ Shanna questioned as she sat opposite her brother in his study.
‘I might,’ he nodded.
She frowned. ‘Tell me, Henry,’ she said quietly, ‘what business do you and Rick Dalmont have?’
‘You won’t like it,’ he warned.
‘I have a feeling not,’ she acknowledged heavily.
He stood up to pace the room. ‘You see, the newspaper hasn’t been doing too well lately, and I needed a cash flow for a while.’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve been trying to get this deal together with Rick for months, and when he came over to England two weeks ago it was an ideal opportunity to further the talks. We finalised the deal on Friday, that’s partly what the party was about last night.’
‘Yes?’ Shanna was very wary now, Henry deliberately avoiding her gaze.
‘Well, that’s it,’ he shrugged.
‘No, that isn’t it at all, Henry,’ she refuted softly. ‘You haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know. What’s the deal you’ve made with Rick Dalmont? Has he come in as your partner or just with a financial loan?’
‘Neither.’ Henry wetted his lips nervously.
Shanna’s unease began to deepen. It wasn’t like Henry to be so evasive. ‘Then what is the deal?’
‘Look, when Dad died he left all the publishing business to me. Maybe he shouldn’t have done, but you were happily married to Perry at the time, and Dad did leave you financially secure.’
‘I never wanted any of the business, Henry, you know that,’ she dismissed. ‘You’re entitled to make whatever deals you want. I just want to know where I come into it, because I do, don’t I?’
‘Yes,’ her brother sighed heavily. ‘It’s Fashion Lady.’
‘What about it?’ she gasped.
Henry shrugged.