Read Shannon's Daughter Online

Authors: Karen Welch

Shannon's Daughter (39 page)

“How
can I possibly argue with that kind of twisted logic?
 
What would your father say if he knew what
you were doing with your money?”

“He’d
say if it pleases me,
it’s
fine.
 
And it does please me, you can’t argue with
that.”

He
turned, holding her loosely and scowling down into her eyes.
 
“I’d be a fool to try.
 
But I’m going on record as feeling slightly
emasculated by the way you take charge.
 
Not
that women
haven’t picked up the tab
before, or even given me gifts in exchange for services rendered, because I’m
ashamed to admit they have.
 
But I don’t
like taking things from you I won’t ever be able to repay.
 
And I don’t enjoy being constantly reminded
that you have so much money you won’t miss any you waste on me.
 
A man, even a kept man, has his pride.”

Her
gaze seemed to penetrate his attempted sarcasm, leaving him feeling
unpleasantly exposed.
 
“Kendall,
money—all the money in the world—can’t buy what you give me.
 
If I can afford to pay for a little luxury, a
hotel room or a trip, so we can be together, why shouldn’t I?
 
Money is just a means to an end, and in our
case, the end is worth every penny.
 
That
said
,
I would never intentionally hurt your
pride.
 
And I certainly wouldn’t want to
emasculate—ugh, that’s an ugly word—you either.
 
But I’ve been trained to take charge since I can remember.
 
I guess it just comes naturally.”

Once
again her sincerity won the day.
 
“I’m
sorry, love.
 
I blew things out of
proportion.
 
I’m so accustomed to being
on my own you’ll have to give me time to adjust to this arrangement of
ours.
 
And once in a while you’ll have to
let me pay for dinner or take you to the cinema.
 
I can at least manage a cheap date now and
then.”
 
He touched a kiss to the tip of
her nose.
 
“Now be a good girl and finish
your breakfast.”

“I am
finished.”

“No
you’re not.”
 
He steered her back to her
place.
 
“At least eat those lovely
strawberries.
 
And by the way, I want you
to make an appointment with Reggie.
 
They’ll be back next week.”

“Why?
 
I’m not sick!”

“No,
but I haven’t forgotten your little turn after the wedding.
 
And you’re too thin.”
 
He raised a cautionary hand.
 
“And don’t say a woman can never be too thin
or too rich.
 
That line’s been used to
death and in your case it hardly applies.
 
You already have plenty of money, but you can’t afford to lose another
ounce.
 
It won’t hurt to let Reggie check
you over and draw some blood.
 
I’m
betting he’ll confirm my diagnosis.”

Sucking
on a strawberry, Peg stared at him across the table.
 
“Are you done, doctor?”

“For
now.”

“Fine,
get me the number to Reggie’s office and I’ll make an appointment.
 
Just to prove you wrong.
 
I’m sure I’m as healthy as a horse.”

“I’ll
be delighted if you are.
 
Then all I’ll
have to do is try to fatten you up before you go back to New York.”
 
He consulted his watch.
 
“I have two more hours before my train.
 
What say we take a walk to my place?”

She
looked past him to the window.
 
“It’s
going to rain.
 
We should call a cab.”

“You’re
in England now.
 
It rains more often than
not.
 
That’s why they invented umbrellas.
 
And I’m not wasting money on a cab to go six
blocks.”

“You’re
a little bit of a tightwad, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m
frugal, that’s all.
 
And
just because you’re an heiress doesn’t mean the fresh air and
exercise won’t still do you good
.”
 
He got to his feet.
 
“Now you can
come with me or not.
 
I may humor you
about most things, but I refuse to lose every argument.”

“Kendall?”

Turning
back from the door, he caught her smile.
 
“Yes?”

“If
you’ll wait just a minute, I’ll get my umbrella.
 
And I don’t want you to humor me all the
time.
 
I like it when you stand up for
yourself.”

“Not
something most people do in your presence, I suppose?”

“Exactly.”
 
  

 

Chapter
Thirty-eight

 

For the
next several weeks, they fell into a routine, daring to do the kinds of things
couples do at the onset of a romantic relationship, couples with more promising
futures than theirs.
 
When Kendall was in
London, they had dinner with Peg’s family or his friends.
 
When Peg came to Lewes, they
strolled
the High Street and explored the local sites like tourists.
 
If their nights together were intensely passionate,
their days were surprisingly relaxed.
 
Peg’s quick mind and equally quick tongue kept him intrigued and
amused.
 
From all indications, she was
happy with their arrangement, busy while he was away with her studies and
foundation work, and always willing to set them aside for a few hours in his
company.
 
If they found it increasingly easy
to pretend, apparently everyone else found it easy to believe they were a
normal couple falling in love.
 

If he
felt at all guilty for the dust collecting in his flat or the haste with which
he attended to the business of paying bills and balancing his checkbook, he
told himself that come September, he would make up for it.
 
The only thing that truly nagged at his
conscience was the fact that he hadn’t been to Hertford in several weeks, but
he soothed that by writing to his grandfather explaining his hectic schedule and
promising to get out there during his next week off from Glyndebourne.
 

Life had
taken an unforeseen turn for the better and he was cautiously optimistic about
his future, both with Peg and in terms of his career.
 
For the first time in years, he began to
accept that this revised version of his dreams might actually bring him
contentment.
 
He also accepted that it
was Peg, with her unorthodox views and her passion for living, who cast a fresh
light on what he for so long assumed to be a hopeless situation.

Peg’s
twenty-first birthday was to be celebrated with a small family dinner at
Adelaide’s.
 
Kendall planned to make it
to London that morning, the first day of his off week, but was delayed by a
last-minute meeting with the leader before leaving.
 
Looking back, he realized but for that, he
would have been on the train when the call came, in blissful ignorance for a
few more hours.

Though
he had little memory of the trip to London, he thought he must have appeared
outwardly normal.
 
It was only in the
moments after he stumbled through Peg’s door that the full force of reality
struck its inevitable blow.
 
The shock in
her eyes instantly mirrored the stunned grief
in his own
.

“Kendall,
darling, what’s happened?”

That
was a question he couldn’t seem to answer.
 
He must have mumbled something as she led him to the couch, because she
urged him to take a minute to catch his breath.

“I have
to get to Hertford,” he said in little more than a whisper.

“Why?
 
What’s wrong?”

He held
out his hands as if to show her, unable to say more past the emotion constricting
his throat.
 

“Kendall,
please tell me.
 
Is it your grandmother?”

“Worse.”
 
Tears clouding his vision, he watched his
trembling hands gesture helplessly.
 
Swallowing
hard, he forced the words to form, each taking its toll.
 
“My grandfather’s dead.”

“Oh,
darling, I’m so sorry!”
 
She slid her
arms around him, briefly pressing his head to her shoulder.
 
“Of course you need to go.
 
I’ll call Hammonds to drive us.”
 
She had started for the phone before he
caught her hand.

Looking
up, he shook his head. “There’s more.”

She sat
beside him then, draping an arm around his shoulders and holding his hand.
 
“Tell me.
 
Then we’ll decide what to do.”

Once he
began, it came easier.
 
In the same
simple words the kindly voice over the phone had relayed it to
him,
he repeated the news, sounding to his own ears much
like a child reading in slow, halting phrases.
 
“The best they can figure, Grandfather had been working in the garden
early this morning.
 
Apparently Granny
saw him sitting in one of the chairs and after so long, she must have gone out
to check on him.
 
He must have sat down
to rest and
. .
.they
think
it
was a heart attack.”

“And
your grandmother?
 
That has to have been so upsetting.”
 
He nodded, looking into her eyes, begging her
to help him go on.
 
“Oh, no, Kendall,
she’s
not.
. .?”

“No.
 
Mrs. Beatty found her on the ground next to
him.
 
Another stroke.
 
The doctor says it’s likely just a matter of
time.
 
I have to get there.”
 
By rights he should have been on his feet,
moving with the urgency the situation demanded.
 
Instead, he sat immobilized, his limbs leaden and his brain refusing to
give the command.

“Just
sit here and rest.
 
I’ll order us some
tea and make a few calls.
 
Is there
anything you need from the flat before we go?”

“I have
my bag.
 
But you don’t have to go with
me.”
 
A thought stirred its way to the
surface.
 
“It’s your birthday.”

“I’ll
call Aunt Addie.
 
I’m sure they’ll all
understand.
 
Have you told your mother
yet?”

Flinching,
he shook his head.
 
“You’re the
first.
 
I suppose I should do that now?”

“Not
until you’re ready to.
 
You’re in shock,
Kendall.
 
Who called you with the news?”

“Dr.
Morrow.
 
He’s been their physician as
long as I can remember.”

“Do you
have his number?”

“Yes.
 
Why?”

“Because
I’d like to call him for an update on your grandmother.
 
If you don’t mind?”

“No.
 
I suppose that makes sense.
 
It’s been almost two hours since I got the
call.”
 
The recollection of that moment struck
him like a blow, knocking the wind out of him.
 
Silently, he held out the scrap of paper on which he’d scrawled the
doctor’s number before bolting from his hotel earlier.

He sat
with eyes closed, only half-listening to Peg talking softly, first to Adelaide,
then to Hammonds and finally to the doctor.
 
He admired the ease with which she introduced herself as his cousin,
explaining that he had come to her with the news and asked her to call while he
made preparations for the journey to Hertford, making it sound as though he
were busy packing rather than slumped motionless on her couch.
 

“Kendall,
the doctor would like to speak to you,” she said gently, holding out the
receiver.

The
news was neither bad nor good, only that his grandmother remained
unconscious.
 
When the doctor asked what
time Kendall planned to arrive, he turned to Peg for an answer.

“Hammonds
will be here in fifteen minutes.
 
We can
go whenever you’re ready.”
 
He started to
argue again that he would take the
train, that
she
needn’t go with him, but something in Peg’s eyes, and the reassuring hand she
laid on his shoulder silenced him.
 
He
needed her, as he had never needed anyone in his life.
 
Other than his grandparents, the voice of
grief reminded him.
 

When
room service brought a cart loaded with tea and sandwiches, he actually managed
to eat a bite or two.
 
After weighing the
options, they agreed it might be best for Patrick to break the news to
Eloise.
 
Peg put the call through to the
bank and Kendall managed to explain the situation man to man far easier than he
could have to his mother.
 

When he
handed the receiver back to Peg, she went on speaking to Patrick for several
minutes.
 
“I’m going to Hertford with
Kendall.
 
He’ll have so much to deal with
and someone needs to be at the hospital with his grandmother.
 
You can explain that to Aunt Eloise however
you think best.”
 
She smiled, he assumed
at Patrick’s response.
 
“For the moment,
we’re cousins.
 
That will make things
simpler, won’t it?
 
He needs family to
help with this, and other than his mother, he doesn’t have any.
 
I’ll call you tonight, I promise.”
 

“Peg,
you really don’t have to do this.”
 
He
said it because it was the right thing to say, but even to him it sounded
half-hearted.

“I know
I don’t have to.
 
I want to.
 
You can’t do it all on your own.”

He ran
a hand through his hair, struck by the truth of that statement.
 
“There’s no one else, you’re right.
 
If you can just see to
Granny.
. .but you hate hospitals.”

“I can
manage.”
 
She sat beside him, taking his
hand.
 
“We’ll get through this.
 
I’m so glad I’m here to help.”

“It’s
your birthday.
 
You should be
celebrating.”

“I
don’t care all that much for parties, remember?
 
Besides, do you really think I could celebrate while you’re suffering
like this?
 
Now I’m going to throw a few
things in a bag, just in case.”

He
pulled her into his arms, glad of her warmth against the increasing internal
chill.
 
“This is not what you signed on
for, I know.”

“I
signed on to be with you.
 
That means in
good times and in bad.
 
I haven’t
forgotten the way you took care of me in the past.
 
It’s my turn now.”
 

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