Isobel’s mother appeared in the opening, propelling herself in her wheelchair. She looked cross—everyone was cross!
‘Would you like to explain to me, young lady,’ Silvia flicked sternly at her daughter, ‘what happened to the good manners I taught you? How could you be so rude as to turn your back on that nice Miss Christophoros and walk away? I have just had to spend the last half an hour covering up for you!’
‘That nice Miss Christophoros you have been happily liaising with happens to be my husband’s mistress!’ Silvia’s furious daughter replied, and, having silenced her mother, she then stalked away, hair flying like a warning flag, long legs carrying her out of the room and—
Leandros went to go after her…to stop her from leaving, then halted again when he saw her take to the stairs. A grin appeared. The minx might want to take his head off right now, but she was not going to leave him.
‘What was she talking about?’ Silvia demanded.
‘She’s jealous,’ he murmured. ‘She does not know what she’s saying.’
‘It sounded pretty clear-cut to me,’ Silvia countered. ‘Is that woman your current mistress?’
Current? He pondered on the word while he listened for that old familiar sound of a door slamming somewhere. Rear bedroom, not his, he calculated when, as predicted, the sound came.
Diantha, he noticed, had gone from being that nice Miss Christophoros to that woman. Silvia was nothing if not loyal to her own. Which brought forth another thought. ‘Where is Diantha?’ he asked sharply.
‘She left just as the luggage arrived. Didn’t you hear her car pull away?’
No, he had been too busy fighting with Silvia’s witch of a daughter. ‘Silvia,’ he said, coming to a decision, ‘you may not like what I am about to tell you, but I suggest you come to terms with it. Isobel and I are not getting a divorce,’ he announced. ‘We are, in fact, very much a reunited couple.’
He had to give it to his mother-in-law—she was not slow on the uptake. Her eyes went round. ‘In just half a day?’
He smiled; it was impossible not to. ‘It took less than half a day the first time we met,’ he admitted candidly.
‘That was before you broke Isobel’s heart and sent her home to me in little pieces,’ Silvia said brutally. Eyes as fierce and contrarily vulnerable as her daughter’s glared at him. ‘I won’t let you do it to her again.’
‘I have no intention,’ he assured. ‘But I warn you again, Silvia,’ he then added seriously, ‘Isobel is still my wife and is staying that way.’
Isobel’s mother studied his grimly determined expression. ‘I think you should try telling her that,’ she advised eventually.
‘Oh, she knows it.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘She is afraid of what it is going to mean, that’s all.’
‘And the mistress?’
He mocked the question with a grimace. ‘Is a mere friend.’ The sooner certain other people recognised that the quicker he could settle down to convincing Isobel. ‘Where is the lawyer?’ he then asked thoughtfully.
‘Still on the terrace looking slightly poleaxed by high-society living.’
Nodding, Leandros went to walk past her then paused and instead bent his dark head to place a kiss on her cheek. Her skin felt as smooth as her beautiful daughter’s. But then Silvia was still a very attractive woman, even sitting here in this wheelchair. She had her daughter’s eyes and beautiful mouth, and, though her hair might not be as red as Isobel’s any more, it was still luxuriously silken.
‘I am happy to see you back here again, ee peteria,’ he told her huskily. ‘But I am not happy to see you confined to this thing.’
‘It won’t be forever,’ Silvia replied firmly. ‘I am getting stronger by the day and don’t usually spend so much time sitting here.’
‘Would it be too much for you to explain to me what happened?’
Ten minutes later he was going to find Lester Miles, with his head so filled with his new insight into Isobel and Silvia’s last few years while they’d fought Silvia’s battle together, that he didn’t notice Isobel sitting on the top stair, where she’d listened in on the whole illuminating conversation.
When he’d gone she came down the stairs and brushed her mother’s cheek with a silent salutation. She’d had no idea how tough her mother had found the last two years until she heard her confiding in Leandros.
‘Come on,’ she said softly. ‘Let’s go and check out your new accommodation.’ And, taking charge of the wheelchair, she turned it round to face the hallway.
‘You OK?’ Silvia asked.
‘Yes,’ Isobel answered.
‘You still love him don’t you?’