Just for a Night by Miranda Lee

Author:Miranda Lee
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin Presents
Published: 1998-05-15T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

‘I’M GOING home! I’m going home!’

Rebecca was bouncing up and down on the back seat of the Bentley between James and Marina.

‘Do be still, Rebecca,’ James said sharply.

Rebecca pulled a face at Marina. ‘Uncle James only calls me Rebecca like that when he’s in a bad mood.’

James sighed. ‘I am not in a bad mood. I’m simply tired. Marina and I went out last night and I was late getting to sleep.’

‘I didn’t sleep much, either,’ Rebecca said, beginning to bounce again. ‘I was too excited.’

‘Yes, well, I understand exactly what you mean,’ was her uncle’s dry remark. ‘I was pretty excited myself.’ And he threw Marina a scorching look over the child’s bobbing head.

‘Were you, Uncle James? Oh, look. There’s some horses. Can I go look at our horses when I get home, Uncle James?’

‘Whatever you like, sweetie. Here, come and sit up on my lap for a minute so you can see better out of the window.’

She scrambled up onto James’s lap straight away, hands and nose instantly glued to the glass.

Marina resisted the impulse to feel jealous.

‘You have horses too?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘I inherited them from my brother, who was racing and gambling mad. They’re not riding horses. They’re thoroughbred brood mares. Laurence’s wife, Joy, was also mad about jumpers, and she had a whole stable of hacks. I eventually sold them, because there was no one left who wanted to ride and they cost too much to keep properly fed and stabled for nothing. But I kept the brood mares as an investment. We have plenty of good grazing land and my estate manager said it would be foolish to sell them up. He said some of the foals would bring in a small fortune. And he was right, thank God.’

‘Why do you say, “Thank God”? Was the estate in financial trouble when your brother died?’

‘That’s putting it mildly. Laurence had run up an overdraft a mile high, the house and land had a second mortgage and several of my father’s prized paintings had been exchanged for copies—the originals sold to South American millionaires. A good number of antiques had also already found their way to Sotheby’s—just to support two wastrels, flitting around the world.’

‘What’s a wastrel?’ Rebecca asked, reminding them both that there was a child listening.

‘A good-for-nothing person who spends money and doesn’t work,’ James answered bluntly.

‘Well, you’re not one, Uncle James. You’re always working at the bank. And Marina’s not one because she’s a teacher!’ The little girl frowned, then. ‘I’m not one, am I, Uncle James? I mean, I don’t work, and I know it costs a lot to keep me in hospital.’

James gave the serious-faced child a hug. ‘Children can’t be wastrels, sweetie. That’s only for grown-ups. And I wouldn’t care how much it cost me to make you well.’

‘You won’t have to pay much more, Uncle James, because I’m going to be perfectly well in no time.’

Marina’s heart turned over. She prayed that would be so with all her heart.

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