Millionaire Dad: Wife Needed by Natasha Oakley

Millionaire Dad: Wife Needed by Natasha Oakley

Author:Natasha Oakley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-14T16:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER SIX

WENDY BENNINGTON sat ensconced in a high-backed chair positioned so she had a view of the sweeping lawn on the west side of Fenton Hall, her injured ankle elevated on a high footstool. ‘I like that girl,’ she said decidedly, watching Isabel Stanford’s battered car disappear down the drive. ‘Talks a lot of sense. Wouldn’t believe she’d ever taken an overdose, would you?’

Nick certainly wouldn’t have believed it.

‘She seems tougher than that,’ Wendy added, accepting the cup of tea her godson handed her.

Nick absent-mindedly picked up his own teacup. It would seem that his much vaunted ability to judge character had been at fault—once again. Isabel Stanford certainly didn’t blame her sister in any way. He’d misread the situation entirely.

‘Pass me a digestive biscuit,’ Wendy said, pointing at the plate.

Nick picked it up and held it out to her.

‘Thank you,’ she said, proceeding to dip the chocolate-coated biscuit in the hot liquid. ‘You know, this is one of the greatest pleasures of being my age. I no longer care whether anyone thinks this is good manners or not.’

‘Did you ever?’ Nick was rewarded with a sniff that he knew meant that his godmother agreed.

She fixed her eyes on him. ‘You’re very quiet. What did you make of what Isabel had to say?’

Nick stretched out his legs. ‘I think she’s right in thinking a deaf unit will suit Rosie.’

‘What about the girl she mentioned? Rachel? Very young, of course, but if she signs it might make Rosie feel more settled here.’

Nick didn’t answer.

‘You do need to do something, Nick. Rosie’s devastated by her grandma’s death. It might help to have someone to sign with. She certainly liked talking to Isabel.’ Wendy’s face grew hard. ‘Ana should be horse-whipped for not having dealt with it better.’

He didn’t disagree. When Rosie had finally believed what he’d told her about her grandma she’d sobbed as though her world had ended. It had ripped him in two to think that, as far as she was concerned, it probably had. She’d lost the one person she seemed to have loved, had been uprooted from the only home she’d ever known and dumped with a father she barely knew.

Nick picked up a biscuit. ‘It’s certainly worth meeting Rachel, particularly if she’d be prepared to act as Rosie’s communicator at school.’

Wendy watched him for a moment and then sipped her tea. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been told before that children who have cochlear implants have to learn how to interpret what they’re hearing. It’s fascinating.’

‘That’s never been an option for Rosie.’

‘No,’ Wendy agreed, adding, ‘but it made me wonder, if Rosie had been a suitable candidate for one, how Ana would have coped with the discovery that it wasn’t a cure-all.’

Nick frowned. His imagination hadn’t taken him that far, but Wendy was right. Ana thought hearing aids, in whatever colour, were simply ugly. In her mind a cochlear implant would have returned Rosie to normal.

‘Can’t see her liking a plastic disc stuck on her daughter’s head any more than she likes things attached to her ears.



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