Winds of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

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СКАЧАТЬ I always thought that by the time I grew up you’d be a sweet little white-haired lady who knitted constantly and made gingerbread cookies.”

      “I will never be anything but what I am: a tough old dame who enjoys a good belt every once in a while.”

      He helped her onto the side of her bed. “Your every once in a while is becoming a habit lately. You know that, of course.”

      “It’s my only comfort, Leon. Please don’t lecture me.”

      “It isn’t your only comfort. You’re letting Empress Cosmetics go down the drain and you don’t even seem to care.”

      “I don’t.” She scowled at him. “And if my cosmetics empire is going down the drain, as you say, then you are the one to blame, Leon. You are, after all, in control now. I’ve left it all for you to run.”

      “You know I can’t manage without your help, Mother. Oh, the company is doing all right, but not as well as it could. The people there need you at the top. They’re used to your ways, not mine; and the wholesalers and distributors want to deal with you, not me.”

      “When I’m dead they’ll have to deal with you, so they might as well get used to it now.”

      “You’re not dead yet, nor will you be for a long time unless you kill that liver of yours.”

      “I’m tired, Leon. Get out of here and let me go to sleep.”

      He kissed her cheek and bade her good night. “Sleep well, Mother. And tomorrow I want to tell you about a new Nightsong scent I’ve been developing in the lab.”

      “There will be no more Nightsong,” Lydia said adamantly.

      He only grinned. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow.” He blew her another kiss and quickly left the room before she could say anything more.

      Lydia lowered herself back against the pillows and put an arm across her eyes. She hoped, with all her heart, that this night would not be like all the others, filled with those unpleasant memories of her lost love, the nightmare in which Peter’s body turned into a skeleton in his coffin. More than anything else she wanted to be in that coffin beside him, holding him in her arms as their bodies decayed together. She pictured the sandy brown hair that spilled carelessly over his forehead, the dark brown eyes that turned a smoldering black when he scowled.

      She idly undid the pins that bound up her hair and let it fall in a luxuriant red-gold cascade about her face and shoulders. Gently she touched her fingertips to her cheeks, searching for the wrinkles she knew were there but everyone said she imagined.

      “Still a beautiful woman,” she remembered Leon saying. She supposed she was, but what did that matter? She had only wanted to be beautiful for Peter, no one else. All she wanted now, she admitted, was to sit here and feel sorry for herself, to wallow in self-pity. It was her right, and that was what she intended to do with the rest of her years.

      Sleep came quickly and with it the same old terrible dreams: Lorna MacNair’s thin, cruel lips sneered at her as she threw back her head and let out a demonic laugh that brought an agonizing cry from Lydia’s mouth.

      At last Lorna had what she’d always wanted...her husband safely entombed in a mausoleum where Lydia could never again take him away from her.

      Suddenly, Lydia felt the bed, the entire room shaking violently. Lydia imagined the ceiling cracking above her head and the plaster and walls caving in on her.

      “Earthquake,” she screamed as she opened her eyes wide with terror and stared around her. The room was still. There was no sound except the voice of Nellie, no motion but the housekeeper’s gentle shaking of her shoulder.

      “You were dreaming again,” Nellie said softly. “It’s the brandy, Lydia. It makes your mind conjure up dreadful old things.”

      Lydia became aware of the bright sunlight pouring through the windows, giving the room a new, sparkling look. “Wh-what time is it?”

      “Ten o’clock. And look at you. Still in the same clothes you wore last night. Here, let me brace you up. I’ve brought your coffee and toast. How do you feel?”

      Lydia ran her hand across her forehead as if to wipe away the dull ache. “How should I feel?” she snapped. Despite her show of irritation, she couldn’t help being thankful that her dreams were gone.

      “Evelyn Clary’s downstairs having breakfast. She said she will not leave the house until she’s talked to you. It’s important, she claims.”

      “Evelyn? Tell her I can’t see her.”

      “She won’t leave, Lydia. She made that perfectly plain. She has a briefcase with her, and whenever I see someone carrying a briefcase I know it means trouble.”

      “Tell Evelyn I will not see her.”

      “Yes, you will see her,” Evelyn said as she came into the room, a black leather case tucked neatly under her arm. Evelyn Clary was not a particularly handsome woman. She had a tailored look about her that clearly proclaimed she was all business. “You’ve avoided me long enough, Lydia. Now I’m going to have my say and you are going to listen.”

      “Please go away,” Lydia said with a wave of her hand.

      “I’m not going anywhere,” Evelyn answered as she pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down. “A long time ago when you first started Empress Cosmetics, you saved me from the streets by giving me a job. You made me a rich and respectable woman, Lydia. I’m not going to sit by and let all we have both worked so hard for be taken away from us.”

      “No one’s taking anything away, Evelyn. I’m sure you and Leon can handle whatever is happening at the office.”

      “Not this,” Evelyn said, unsnapping the briefcase and pulling out a legal document with a blue backing. “A little present for you from Lorna MacNair.” She handed the paper to Lydia.

      “What does that damned woman want from me now?”

      “Everything,” Evelyn said. She took a piece of Lydia’s toast and began munching it as Lydia scanned the document. “Read.”

      Lydia saw the worried look that Evelyn was trying to hide. Slowly she read the legal print. As she scanned the sentences she found her fingers tightening on the page. “What in hell?” she breathed.

      “As I said, that bitch has decided she wants everything you have.”

      “Impossible! Lorna is out of her mind.”

      Evelyn shook her head and leaned forward. “I’ve checked with our lawyers, of course. She has a case, Lydia.” Evelyn’s eyes darkened. “Remember when Peter died and left his cosmetics enterprises to you? MacNair Products wasn’t much competition for our company, but it’s always put out a less expensive line of perfumes and cosmetics and the market for the cheaper stuff is very good these days.”

      “And now Lorna wants it back.”

      “Not only MacNair Products, honey. Lorna wants everything. Unfortunately, when you consolidated MacNair Products into Empress Cosmetics you made it one total entity. Lorna obviously figured you would do that—consolidate the СКАЧАТЬ