Celeste's Story
Page 11
Monsieur du Parone leaned forward in his chair, placing his hands on his desk. “I can see why it would be profitable for me, but why would you want to continue to pay me even after I am no longer helping your husband?”
“That is my concern, not yours. Please see the paperwork concerning my husband’s treatment stays current.” She rose to her feet, and though barely over five feet tall, she suddenly felt like a giant. “If anyone comes looking for my husband, you’ll say he has been sent to another clinic to see a special doctor. Do you know of such a clinic? One very far from here?”
“My brother has a clinic in Munich.”
“Perfect. If necessary, my husband has gone to Munich.” Celeste turned and walked to the door. She paused and looked over her shoulder. “The payments will come as usual. The paperwork must be beyond reproach. Do this right, and you could be making money for my husband’s treatment for years.”
* * * *
London
When he watched Lady Celeste Fallon walk into the judge’s chambers, Gregg Fallon did not smile, though the urge to was almost overpowering. She had come to the meeting with Judge Ian Wharton with only her uncle Garrick in attendance. Could the woman be naive enough to think she didn’t need legal counsel? It was almost too good to be true. James Watkins, his barrister, would rip Celeste and her uncle to shreds!
“Thank you for coming on time,” Judge Wharton said, not bothering to rise from his enormous leather chair.
The judge adjusted his wig, then the folds of his robe. He did not look up, nor did he show even the slightest bit of respect to either Celeste or Garrick. A surge of confidence went through Gregg. The money he’d put into the judge’s coffers seemed to have been well spent.
When Celeste and Garrick were seated facing the judge’s desk, he looked at them sharply beneath shaggy, white eyebrows.
“You’ve come on time. Good,” the judge said, though the tone of his voice didn’t make it particularly clear he thought anything was good. “As you are aware, your father-in-law has presented to me papers of a very serious nature. It is my intention here today to find out if there’s any merit in going forward with proceedings.”
James Watkins said, “Your Honor—”
The judge’s upraised hand immediately silenced him. “I’ll do the talking here.”
The look he gave James was glacial, but Gregg didn’t mind. He saw through the theatrics. Judge Wharton was just making it look good, giving the impression the facts of the case mattered. Gregg decided another case of champagne sent to the judge’s residence was in order.
“Lady Fallon, your father-in-law has claimed that due to your heartlessness and negligence, your husband has been rendered incapable of overseeing his own affairs.”
“But, Your Honor—”
“Silence!” Judge Wharton’s eyes were flinty as he looked at Celeste. He didn’t look at Garrick at all. “When it is time for you to speak, you may. Until then, Lady Celeste, it is in your best interests to follow the instructions of this court and remain silent.” He cleared his throat, giving the impression that controlling his temper was a difficult task. “Gregg Fallon has requested he take, in effect, regent control of his son’s affairs until such time as his son regains full control of his mental faculties. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Lady Celeste?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And can you see any reason, given the seriousness of these charges, why they shouldn’t be brought forth before a full court for a complete airing of the facts as we know them?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And what are those reasons?”
Gregg pursed his lips tightly together to keep from smiling. The moment of truth was at hand. He didn’t have a flicker of doubt his plan to control Ralph’s money was about to come to fruition.
“As you are aware, my husband had a very serious riding accident,” Celeste began.
“After the accident, she took Ralph out of the country without telling a soul,” the barrister said quickly.
Judge Wharton cast a glance at the barrister but said nothing.
“Yes, I took my husband out of the country quickly, but only so he could get the best treatment—the treatment he needs—as soon as possible. You can hardly accuse me of wrongdoing when I’ve been doing everything I possibly could to see my Ralph recovers, even if it meant taking him to the Continent.”
Gregg smiled malevolently. “And now you’re going to tell me he’s getting better at this famous clinic?”
When Celeste refused to look at him, Gregg felt a rush of excitement. He saw the slight blush come to her cheeks, and that was a good sign, too. The fact her uncle visually threw daggers into him was another indication he would soon be in control of Celeste’s finances.
“He’s getting much better, Your Honor. He has his good days and his bad days, of course, but he is showing great improvement.” Celeste’s smile held the hint of embarrassment. “He’s very much improved.”
“How much improved?” Gregg asked, having read the London doctor’s report of Ralph’s injuries. The report had made the injuries and Ralph’s condition seem dire.
Celeste turned at last and looked straight into Gregg’s eyes. “So much improved that I’m going to make you a grandfather.” She smoothed a hand over the slight swelling of her stomach. “Ralph and I are going to have our first child. Aren’t you happy for us?”
Gregg felt the blood drain from his face. It was the worst of all possible news, the one variable he hadn’t counted on.
Judge Wharton cleared his throat and, when all eyes were upon him, said quietly, “Well, then, Lady Celeste, I guess that does put this matter into a whole new light. Umm…you’re obviously doing your matronly duty to your husband. This matter ends here. The full court will not be hearing Mr. Fallon’s charges.”
Celeste turned to her father-in-law and said, “If I have a son, then Ralph will have his heir, won’t he?”
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robin Gideon was born in the prairie of North Dakota and, today, lives in the Upper Midwest. Married with a daughter, she has published numerous novels and novellas with Siren. Robin also writes for Siren under the name Brandi Maxwell. She loves hearing from her readers and can be reached at robinthewriter@yahoo.com.
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