Then, replete and ready for the off, they left—Georgy borne happily aloft as they exited the restaurant, his little arms waving cheerily at what he fondly took to be his admiring fellow diners. Settled into the waiting chauffeured car, they set off for the shops.
The department store they went to was, Lyn resigned herself to accept, one of London’s most expensive and luxurious. Since the buggy and baby carrier had been delivered from there, she was not surprised that Anatole seemed to regard it as the obvious place to shop. Certainly the toy department was lavish beyond anything—and so, she very shortly realised, was Anatole’s determination to purchase a substantial amount from the infant section of it, much of it way too advanced for Georgy.
‘He can’t possibly do a fifty-piece jigsaw!’ Lyn exclaimed. ‘He needs toys that say nine to twelve months—that’s all.’
Anatole frowned. ‘He is a very intelligent child,’ he observed.
‘Nine to twelve months,’ Lyn repeated firmly. ‘Look—that thing there is ideal!’
She pointed to a large moulded plastic construction, a colourful house and farmyard, with big doors and windows and a roof that all came to bits and slotted together again. Around the perimeter was a railway track with a train and truck, containing people and animals for the house and farmyard. A large, baby-operable lever set the train whizzing around the house, ringing a bell as it did so. Lyn demonstrated its mode of operation on the display model and instantly caught Georgy’s attention.
Anatole promptly lifted down a boxed unit. ‘What else?’ he said, looking around him.
Lyn found herself guiding him through the selection process. It felt awkward, initially, having to be so proactive, but she soon realised that she knew a lot more about what was suitable than Anatole did. He deferred to her without demur, and gradually she found that it was getting easier to be in his company like this. It was even, she realised, enjoyable. And Georgy took such enthusiastic interest in this Aladdin’s cave of toys, as well as clearly relishing the presence of lots of other babies and infants, that she found her eyes meeting Anatole’s as they shared Georgy’s enjoyment.
But that sense of communication ended abruptly as they left the toy department.
‘While we are here, Lyn, I would like to look in at the women’s fashion floor,’ Anatole said.
She halted. ‘What for?’
He looked down at her face. She had tensed immediately and her expression was wary. Carefully, he sought the right way to say what he wanted.
‘I appreciate that your circumstances till now have been straitened financially,’ he began, keeping his tone neutral, ‘and of course you have had a great deal to cope with, looking after Georgy while pursuing your studies. I can understand those have been your priorities. Now, however, things are different.’ He took a breath. ‘New clothes for your new life—’
‘I don’t need any new clothes!’
‘Lyn, you need a whole new wardrobe,’ he said.
‘No, I don’t! It’s fine as it is! Really!’
He could hear the intensity in her voice and found himself wondering at it. Didn’t she want something better to wear than what she had to put up with?
‘Please,’ she went on, with the same intensity in her voice, ‘I don’t want you spending money on me!’
His mouth pressed tightly. ‘Lyn, you are going to be my wife—of course I will spend money on you! I have quite a lot to spend,’ he reminded her. ‘I don’t mean to sound extravagant, and I know you have had to be very careful with money—I have a great deal of respect for you for that—but now things are different.’ He paused. ‘Don’t you want to have a new wardrobe? I thought new clothes were something all women wanted!’ He put a note of humour into his voice, as if to lighten the tension.
It didn’t work. She was staring at him, and her expression remained fraught. Did he really think lashing out on expensive clothes would actually do anything for her? Of course it wouldn’t! She would just feel awkward and embarrassed and horrible!
‘I’m fine with what I’ve got,’ she managed to get out.
Dark flashes glinted in Anatole’s eyes, but he veiled them. She might be fine with what she had, but he was not—it was absurd for her to be dressed the way she was. But he took a silent breath. For now he would not pressure her.
‘OK,’ he said, holding up his hand. ‘If that’s truly what you prefer.’
‘It is,’ she said gratefully. Then, casting about to change the subject, she said hurriedly, ‘But what I do need, however, is some more clothes for Georgy—he’s growing rapidly.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m sure the baby clothes here will be very expensive—I can get them much cheaper elsewhere, so—’
‘Here is fine, Lyn,’ Anatole interrupted her firmly, and set off towards babywear, next to the toy department.
Lyn hurried after him, pushing the buggy. She felt weak at the narrow escape she’d had. It would have been unendurable to go down to the fashion department and have some snooty vendeuse look pityingly at her while she tried on designer fashions to try and conceal her nondescript looks. She would have writhed with embarrassment and self-consciousness!
Instead, all she had to do now was try not to blanch when she looked at the price tags on the baby clothes that Anatole was holding up for her inspection. If he was going to spend his money at least it would be on Georgy, not her, so she made little objection. Nor did she object when, purchases made, Anatole had them taken down to his chauffeured car. Then, turning to Lyn, he suggested they find the store’s tea lounge.
As she sat herself down on a soft banquette, tea ordered from the waitress and Anatole amusing Georgy with one of his smaller new toys, she found herself observing them.
Emotion moved within her. He was so good with Georgy—naturally attentive and responsive, clearly enjoying interacting with him—and Georgy, too, was clearly enjoying being with Anatole.
That’s why I’m doing this, she reminded herself fiercely. For Georgy’s sake!
Yet even as she said the words in her head she knew, somewhere deep inside her, a little ache had started up, as she gazed at the man holding her beloved Georgy. What if there were no Georgy and Anatole Telonidis, with his amazing looks, his dark, expressive eyes, his lean strength and honed physique, were going to marry her not because of an orphaned baby but for herself alone?
Even as the thought formed she squashed it flat.
Without Georgy Anatole Telonidis would never even have looked her way...
That was what she had to remember. Only that— however crushing the knowledge.
With a silent little sigh, she got on with drinking her tea.
CHAPTER SIX
OVER THE WEEKEND she slowly got used to Anatole being in such close quarters with her. She took Georgy out into the park a lot, now the weather was more clement, leaving Anatole to work, as he told her he must, for he had a lot to catch up with. The apartment had an office, and Anatole disappeared in there, focusing on his laptop and phone. The plan was, he told her, to go to Athens as soon as Georgy had his passport issued and was cleared to leave the country with his foster carer.
‘Hopefully,’ Anatole had said over dinner that first night, ‘my legal team will be able to put sufficient pressure on the authorities to expedite matters. As for Timon—he’s now starting treatment, and we must hope that it takes effect. He’ll stay in hospital for the time being, since these drugs have side effects he may find it difficult to tolerate and he is an old man in his eighties. But soon—within a few weeks, I very much hope—he will be discharged and able to come home again. And once he’s home...’ he smiled at Lyn ‘...we can get on with getting married.’
He paused, looking at her. Her expression was tense again.
‘Lyn,’ he said, with deliberate lightness, ‘this is your wedding we’re planning—’
‘It’s not a real one,’ she said, and then wished she hadn’t. She hadn’t wanted to imply that she wanted a real wedding to Anatole Telondis! It would be excruciatingly embarrassing if he thought that!
But all he said was, ‘Well, it’s going to be a happy occasion, anyway. It will secure Georgy’s future, and that is what we want.’ He took a breath, his expression changing somewhat. ‘That said, it can’t be a large wedding, as I’m sure you’ll understand. That would be...inappropriate, given how recently Marcos died.’
‘Of course,’ Lyn said immediately, and knew she was grateful not to have to face some huge society bash. That would be as embarrassing as Anatole thinking she wanted her marriage to him to be a real one.
This is all about Georgy—only about Georgy! That’s all I have to remember!
Even so, until they were able to divorce she would have to go through with being in such close quarters with Anatole as she was now. It was becoming easier, she’d discovered gratefully. He was obviously making a real effort to try and get her to feel more comfortable, to draw her out and get to know her. It felt awkward for her, but she did her best to co-operate.