Gypsy

by Carole Mortimer

  But would it remain that way? Peter Dunbar had been brutally honest with him outside in the corridor—Shay could die, the baby could die, or they could both die. Much as he hated what the other man was telling him, Lyon appreciated his honesty, needed to know.

  Shay lifted those pale lids to look at him with eyes darkened with pain. ‘If anything should happen to me I want—’

  Pain ripped through his chest like a knife. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you!’

  She gave a wan smile, her eyes dull with the pain now. ‘I read all the books, Lyon, including the one on complications during childbirth.’

  ‘You heard Dunbar,’ he dismissed lightly. ‘Nothing is going to go wrong.’

  She gave him a sympathetic smile, as if pitying his confidence. ‘My grandfather is too old to take care of another child the way he had to me, even with the help of a nanny, so it will be up to you, Matthew, and Neil to take care of—’

  ‘Shay, stop talking as if you’re going to die!’ He couldn’t control the shudder of emotion that ran down his spine.

  ‘If it’s a boy it’s to be called Richard Patrick, after Ricky and my grandfather,’ she continued as if he hadn’t interrupted. ‘And if it’s a girl—’

  ‘Shay Elizabeth,’ he put in harshly. ‘After its mother and grandmother.’

  ‘I chose Elizabeth Anne, after both its grandmothers,’ she chided. ‘Beth for short.’

  ‘This conversation is unnecessary, Shay.’ He frowned as the young midwife hurried from the room. ‘You’ll be able to name your baby yourself very shortly.’ He stood up as Peter Dunbar entered the room, knowing that things were happening much faster than the other man had expected—or wanted—them to.

  After the other man’s entrance he lost all track of time as Shay became convulsed with the contractions, her grip on his hands excruciating at times. But that was all right, as long as it helped take away some of her own pain. And what she was going through sickened him. So much pain and suffering just to bring another baby into the world. He had wanted children when he first married Marilyn, he thanked God now that he had never put any woman through such agony because he wanted a child. And if Shay survived this—when she survived it—he intended seeing that nothing every hurt her again.

  He was told that Matthew had arrived at the hospital some time during the ordeal, but he couldn’t leave Shay to speak to him, in this with her to the end, no matter what the outcome might be.

  He mopped her brow, spoke to her soothingly when it seemed she couldn’t take the pain any more, and all the time he cursed the baby inside her for doing this to her.

  ‘Here is comes, Shay,’ Peter Dunbar finally shouted excitedly from behind his mask, both men bathed in sweat after hours of battling to bring the baby into the world. ‘Leg first,’ he said dryly. ‘But it is coming,’ he told her triumphantly.

  ‘Is it moving?’ Shay was exhausted, her hair clinging damply to her brow, her face pale from the hours of struggle. But she wasn’t about to give in to the exhaustion she felt until she knew her baby had been safely delivered.

  ‘I have a black eye to prove it!’ Peter teased.

  Lyon could see the leg that had emerged, sure there couldn’t be life in that purple-blotched body, no matter what Dunbar said. And then the body and head appeared, showing a shock of hair as black as its mother’s. The baby looked to be perfectly formed in every way.

  Shay seemed to know that the birth was over, pushing away from him.

  Lyon gazed in awe at the tiniest scrap of humanity he had ever seen, still covered in the blood and body fluid from the birth as its cry filled the air.

  ‘A son, Shay,’ he choked. ‘You have a son!’

  Life seemed to be revived in her body as Peter Dunbar lay the screaming baby on her chest, looking down at her son with rapt wonder. Lyon knew he had never seen anything as beautiful as Shay with her small indignant son.

  * * *

  IT WAS OVER. They had both survived! She hadn’t thought they would, had been prepared to die as long as her baby lived.

  But she was so glad she hadn’t died as she looked down at Richard, knew she would never tire of looking at his beautiful face. He had thick black hair, a small rounded face with unfocusing blue eyes that could either remain that colour like his father’s, or go the deeper purple of her own. His body was tiny but perfect. She knew, because she had immediately counted all of his fingers and toes!

  She looked up tearfully at the tawny-eyed man who had stayed at her side the whole time, who had shared the pain with her. ‘He’s beautiful, isn’t he,’ she said huskily.

  ‘As he looks exactly like you, he has to be,’ Lyon nodded, looking at her, not the baby.

  ‘You ought to go outside and tell Matthew.’ She watched the nurse as she took Richard away to wash him. ‘He’ll be worried.’

  ‘Go right ahead,’ Peter Dunbar said at his questioning look. ‘I just have to check on this young lady and her son and then they can go to their room.’

  Lyon left reluctantly while Shay learnt that Richard weighed five pounds twelve ounces and was twenty-one inches long. He also didn’t like water, letting out a yell as he was washed.

  ‘You did well, Shay.’ Peter Dunbar came to stand beside her, smiling tiredly.

  ‘Richard’s well?’ She couldn’t hide the anxiety she still felt.

  He glanced ruefully over at the baby as he continued to cry while he was dressed. ‘Probably wishing now that he had waited the other five weeks,’ he smiled, ‘but otherwise he’s healthy. A nice weight, a nice colour. You’re the one who’s going to feel the effects of his early birth the most.’

  ‘I don’t mind.’ She held her son in her arms. ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ she choked.

  ‘You owe as much to your brother-in-law as to me,’ he told her softly. ‘He willed you to get through it.’

  She had known how much she owed to Lyon for Richard’s safe delivery, but she was afraid to let that gratitude blind her to all that she hated about him. ‘Yes.’ She turned away abruptly, her expression softening as she saw Richard had fallen asleep now that he was clean and warm.

  Matthew was with Lyon when they came into her hospital room a short time later, Richard down in the nursery now so that she could get a good night’s rest.

  ‘You’re a very clever girl,’ Matthew told her proudly.

  ‘You’ve seen Richard?’ She couldn’t seem to look at Lyon now it was all over.

  Matthew nodded. ‘We’ve just come back from the nursery. Of course Lyon demanded to hold him.’ He derided his brother’s arrogance.

  Shay looked up sharply at the rigid-faced man. ‘You’ve held Richard?’

  His eyes hardened. ‘Shouldn’t I have done?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘I’m afraid Mrs Falconer must rest now,’ the young midwife came in to tell them sternly.

  ‘We’ll be back tomorrow.’ Matthew squeezed her hand. ‘Your grandfather will be here then, too.’ He glanced at Lyon. ‘I’ll wait for you outside,’ he muttered.

  She felt even more uncomfortable once she was alone with Lyon, aware of the midwife in the room as she filled in the chart at the bottom of Shay’s bed. Even though her resentment had returned for Lyon’s intrusion into a private moment she couldn’t let what he had done for her go unmentioned. ‘Thank you,’ she said stiltedly. ‘I don’t know how I would have managed without you.’

  His mouth was tight. ‘You would have done, I’m sure.’

  ‘No, I—’ She broke off as she looked up to meet his gaze, hastily looking away again from that molten gold. ‘I’m grateful for what you did,’ she told him abruptly.

  ‘Don’t worry, Shay,’ his mouth twisted, ‘I’m not about to try and collect on that gratitude by repeating my offer of marriage,’ he rasped. ‘Goodnight!’

  Shay sensed the young midwife looking at them curiously, and she deliberately kept her face averted until she was alone.

  She had a son, a beautiful baby boy, and she w
asn’t going to let anything spoil that—and especially not Lyon!

  * * *

  SHAY LOOKED DOWN in wonder at the dark head resting against her breast, the greedy mouth sucking determinedly on the nipple she had placed between his eager lips. The nurse had shown her how to do it, and while it had felt strange at first, it also filled her with overwhelming love for her son.

  He fell asleep halfway through feeding on the other breast, his tiny mouth still open as she placed him back in his crib beside her bed after holding him for several more minutes, having kept him beside her since the nurse had brought him in to her early this morning. He had been asleep most of the time, only waking up for the occasional feed, and Shay had spent most of her time just looking at him as he slept. She hadn’t believed the day would ever come when she would hold her own baby in her arms.

  Luckily he didn’t seem allergic to pollen because her room looked like a florists’, half a dozen assorted coloured roses from Lyon in as many vases, carnations from Matthew, violets from Neil, an assorted arrangement in a lace crib from her grandfather, a bouquet that had been divided into four vases from her publisher, and even an arrangement in a china-blue train from Marilyn and Derrick.

  Shay still felt very tired, had dozed a little during the morning, but she had showered and washed her hair in preparation of seeing her visitors this afternoon, feeling quite refreshed after she had, applying only a light make-up to her flushed cheeks.

  Her grandfather was so excited about the baby that he completely forgot he had an aversion to hospitals of any kind, shaking the rattle he had bought Richard in front of the baby’s face. Richard didn’t seem at all impressed by all the new people looking down to admire him, and promptly fell asleep again!

  ‘Neil is flying home at the weekend,’ Matthew told her.

  ‘He didn’t have to do that.’ Shay tried not to be aware of the brooding man standing at the back of the room, Lyon not having said a word since his arrival with the other two men.

  ‘Of course he did,’ Matthew chided. ‘We’re all very excited about the newest member of our family. Of course I’m a little upset that he doesn’t look like me, but he couldn’t have everything …’ he teased.

  ‘He’s perfect!’ Lyon suddenly rasped.

  Everyone in the room turned to look at him: Shay’s grandfather in puzzlement, Matthew with censure, and Shay with fear. She had known he would feel this way, as if Richard were partly his because he had been with her at the delivery. He was acting like the doting father she would never allow him to be, and which she knew he was going to demand to be!

  ‘Of course he’s perfect,’ she snapped. ‘He’s Ricky’s son!’

  Black anger darkened his face. ‘Damn you!’ he cried hoarsely before striding from the room.

  Shay had a rebellious flush to her cheeks as she looked challengingly at the two men left in the room. ‘He asked for that!’ she defended.

  ‘Right between the eyes, I would say,’ Matthew grimaced.

  ‘I was only stating a fact,’ she said resentfully.

  ‘Because you knew it would make Lyon as mad as hell,’ he taunted.

  ‘Because it was the truth!’ Her eyes flashed.

  ‘You didn’t have to throw it in his face,’ Matthew reproved. ‘By the way,’ he changed the subject as her expression set mutinously, ‘a mysterious package arrived at the house for you yesterday morning; I put it in your suite.’

  Lyon’s Christmas present, she had forgotten all about it in the excitement. ‘Thank you,’ she nodded stiffly.

  ‘Also the nursery looks like something out of a toy shop,’ he derided. ‘Didn’t you think anyone would buy him anything?’

  ‘The toys were Lyon’s idea,’ she snapped.

  ‘I’m sure you told him how unnecessary they were,’ Matthew sighed.

  ‘I don’t intend for Richard to be spoilt!’

  ‘The way we were?’ Matthew taunted, shaking his head. ‘Our father was a disciplinarian, hardest of all on Lyon because he was the oldest. You should have indulged him about the toys, Shay,’ he reproved.

  ‘Matthew—’

  ‘Okay, I accept that now isn’t the time for this discussion.’ He held up his hands defensively. ‘But just try and remember, Lyon only gives the impression of being a self-sufficient bastard. In his own way he’s as vulnerable as the rest of us.’

  Her mouth was tight. ‘I don’t want to start an argument either,’ she told him stiffly. ‘So we’ll talk about something else. I hope Mrs Devon made you comfortable, Grandy,’ she smiled at her grandfather.

  ‘I’m sure she would have done if I’d been at the house,’ he nodded. ‘But I’m—’

  ‘Staying at Falconer House,’ she finished with inevitability.

  ‘Darlin’, enjoy the baby and stop fussing so much about what everyone else is doing, hmm?’ he reproved.

  She flushed guiltily. ‘I’m sorry. I—I’ll stop fussing,’ she agreed ruefully. ‘Would you hand Richard to me?’ she requested as the baby began to wake up.

  ‘Your mother always said you should never pick up a baby as soon as it cries,’ her grandfather teased as he instantly picked Richard up, the surprised baby struggling to open his eyes.

  ‘And that’s the reason I was so spoilt as a child?’ Shay mocked as she took her son in her arms.

  ‘You weren’t spoilt,’ he defended, turning slightly as a stone-faced Lyon came back into the room. ‘I think I’ll just go outside for a breath of air,’ he excused.

  ‘I think I’ll join you,’ Matthew muttered, following the older man from the room.

  Shay was very much aware of Lyon standing across the room from her, and she pointedly ignored him as she spoke softly to Richard, entranced with her tiny son.

  ‘I didn’t ask them to leave,’ Lyon finally rasped.

  Her smile slowly faded as her gaze reluctantly left Richard to look at Lyon. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I didn’t ask your grandfather and Matthew to leave,’ he bit out, moving to stand next to the bed, looking down at her and the baby.

  ‘You didn’t need to,’ she shrugged, turning back to her son.

  ‘Shay, I—’ He thrust his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched over, a haggard look to his face. ‘I don’t mean to seem so damned moody, but I—God, you know how I feel!’ he glared.

  Yes, she knew how he felt, and her arms tightened protectively about Richard, who instantly let out a protesting wail.

  ‘I don’t want to take him from you, Shay’ Lyon told her softly. ‘I just want to share him.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Shay—’

  ‘Would you please leave, Lyon.’ Her eyes were coldly dismissive. ‘Richard wants feeding now.’ Her expression dared him to mock her request for privacy.

  He let out a ragged sigh. ‘Don’t resent me because I was there, Shay.’ He shook his head. ‘If I hadn’t been—’

  ‘It won’t work, Lyon,’ she snapped harshly. ‘I owe you nothing!’

  ‘I didn’t mean—’

  ‘You meant exactly that!’ she bit out forcefully. ‘I’m well aware of what you did for Richard and me yesterday, but it was no more than you owed me.’

  Lyon frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  She was breathing heavily in her agitation. ‘Six years ago you tried to destroy me, helping me give birth to Richard only gave back what you tried to take from me then; a reason for living.’

  ‘I thought marrying Ricky gave you that!’ Lyon said with bitterness.

  She looked at him coldly. ‘And now Ricky’s son will continue to do that.’

  She wasn’t in the least surprised when he turned on his heel and walked out of the room for the second time that day.

  * * *

  ‘WHERE IS LYON?’ she demanded of Matthew.

  He was her only visitor this morning, her grandfather and Neil coming this afternoon. Peter Dunbar had insisted she had to stay in hospital for at least a week, that it had been a difficult and tiring birth for her, a
nd although Richard was a good weight he wanted to keep an eye on him for several days longer. After only three days Shay was chafing to leave.

  Matthew raised mocking brows. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve missed him?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she shook her head, feeling more like her old self now, doing nothing but rest and caring for Richard. ‘I won’t ever do that,’ she added hardly.

  His mouth twisted. ‘Then why the curiosity about where he is?’

  ‘I need to see him,’ she announced stiffly.

  ‘Need?’ Matthew taunted.

  ‘Want, then,’ she amended sharply, glaring at him. ‘Don’t be so damned patronising, Matthew!’

  He shrugged. ‘Now what could you possibly want to see my big brother for?’ he drawled.

  ‘Where is he, Matthew?’

  ‘Away.’

  She grimaced her displeasure at the abrupt disclosure. ‘For how long?’

  ‘Who knows?’ he dismissed dryly. ‘Lyon has always been his own master.’

  ‘And everyone else’s if he gets the opportunity’ she muttered tautly.

  ‘Yes,’ Matthew grinned. ‘What’s he done wrong this time?’

  ‘It isn’t funny, Matthew,’ she snapped. ‘Even if I did feel like running, I don’t know where he thinks I would run to so that he couldn’t find me!’

  Matthew sobered, frowning his puzzlement. ‘What are you talking about?’

  She sighed. ‘Did you see the man sitting outside in the corridor? A short way down,’ she explained at the appearance of his frown. ‘A plump man with a receding hairline,’ she described with distaste.

  ‘I remember him now,’ Matthew nodded slowly. ‘An innocuous-looking chap. What about him?’

  ‘He’s what Lyon’s done wrong this time!’ she cried angrily.

  ‘Shay, I’ve never believed you to be lacking in eloquence,’ Matthew told her steadily. ‘In fact, the opposite at times,’ he added dryly. ‘But this certainly isn’t one of them!’

  ‘The man sitting outside,’ she snapped, ‘the “innocuous-looking chap”, is another of Lyon’s spies!’ She breathed heavily in her agitation, hadn’t been able to believe it this morning when the young midwife had told her about the man in the corridor being here to watch her.