dismay. You must realise this is going to be a very difficult time. I have to contact Delma, Owen’s wife.”
“I know.”
There was a secrecy to her, to Owen, he couldn’t fathom.
“Why haven’t you done it before?” she asked. “Why not before telling me?”
Why indeed. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he answered with more force than he intended. “We both know I have concerns about you. You’ll have to get out of this suite. I’ll attend to everything.”
“Of course.” She inclined her dark head. “I’m so grateful you’re here with your odd combination of condemnation and concern. Are you going to take me to the hospital?”
Her insistence left him reeling. “If I can trust you to keep perfectly quiet. I feel sure Owen’s accident is going to be reported. There could be news people about. Owen is quite a celebrity. Most certainly in the North.”
“And I’m someone second rate?” she asked with gentle irony, fixing him with her soulful eyes.
He couldn’t bear to think of her and Owen together. “You’re a young woman who’s happened to make a bad mistake. I can’t claim to understand Owen’s motives in not telling me about you long before this. We’ve shared so much over the years I’ve worked with him.”
“He thinks very highly of you,” she said. “My identity will come out soon enough. If not while Owen is ill then sometime in the future. Should anything happen to him, God forbid, I’ll quietly disappear.”
He found he didn’t want this to happen, yet he spoke curtly, cursing himself, but driven by shock and anxiety. “You may think that now.”
“What are you so afraid of? Do you think I’m after Owen’s money?”
“Forgive me if I believe Owen’s money is a factor.”
She shook her dark head. “You couldn’t be more wrong. My mother left me financially secure. There’s my grandfather, also. You know nothing about me, Mr. Forsyth.”
“Except you’ve got my friend, Owen, spellbound. Anyway, what good’s talk? If you’re coming with me, come. If you’ve got belongings here, get them. I assume if you’re so financially secure you have a good home?”
She flushed, the sheen of tears in her beautiful eyes. “You’re making far too many assumptions as it is, Mr. Forsyth. If you give me a moment I’ll pack what I have. We were to have had dinner with you tonight, instead Fate has stepped in yet again.”
They never spoke a word throughout the fifteen-minute journey to the hospital though Lang found himself watching her continually in case she started to crumble. He even had to stop himself reaching for her hand. Such a slim wrist, a network of delicate blue veins beating there. Two gold bracelets. He knew gold. Both were unmistakably heavy eighteen carat. Patek Philippe watch with diamonds and a mother-of-pearl face. All very expensive items. Had Owen given them to her? He rarely gave Delma presents though he allowed her to buy whatever she liked. For herself. There was a huge difference. He was beginning to feel more and more sorry for Delma. She would take it very badly when she found out about this girl. He was silent under the great surge of anxiety he felt. What if Owen died? God, hadn’t his own father slipped so easily out of life?
“Are you ready for this?” he asked as they made their way to the ward.
Her voice rang with hope and conviction. “I know he’s alive. I’m sure of it. He won’t leave me. Not now.”
“You look like you’re going to faint.” Indeed she was snow-white. Her took her arm as stabs of pity pierced him, his manner at that moment more protective than he realised. She was tall for a woman but beside him she seemed so small.
“I haven’t fainted so far, have I?” Her lips moved.
“You did briefly at the hotel,” he reminded her. “Anyway, we’re here now. Please let me do the talking.”
“Of course.” She didn’t look at him, but she didn’t pull away, either. That had some significance but he didn’t want to look into it now. This was Owen’s young love.
The surgeon was waiting for them, and they briefly shook hands. He needed to scrub up. “Mr. Carter will undergo immediate surgery,” he told them, looking from one to the other as though they were a pair. “For internal injuries. He’s bleeding and has broken ribs and a broken collarbone, but he’s in good shape for his age. He’s conscious at the moment, but he’s been sedated. You can speak to him for just a moment, if you like. Now you must excuse me.”
Even as the surgeon turned away they saw Owen being wheeled out into the corridor.
“Come on,” he heard himself saying to her, upset beyond words at the whole damn business.
Owen’s dazed eyes rested on him first. “Lang!” He put up a hand and Lang took it, feeling the strange chill off Owen’s skin. “We’re here for you, Owen,” he said, allowing his strong feelings to show. “Eden is here, too.” He used her name knowing that he liked it. It suited her.
“Eden?” Owen tried to turn his head, clearly excited, agitated and the medical attendant shook a warning head at them.
She came forward, taking Owen’s other hand, bending over him, her lovely face as sweet and innocent as a Madonna’s.
The expression that blazed out of Owen’s face caused him to look away. This was love. Real love. God! And it was going to last. He knew that now. No one, not wife, not child, not partner, was going to separate them.
Ward Sister came up briskly. “Thank you,” she said with what was clearly a dismissal. “Mr. Carter is due in surgery. You’re waiting?”
“Yes.” He spoke for both of them. “We want to be here.”
Sister nodded. “There’s no telling how long it might be.”
“We’ll wait.” Eden spoke for the first time. “We couldn’t possibly leave.”
But Owen wanted desperately to detain them. “Lang,” he called, his voice weak and slurred.
“Go now,” Sister said. “You’re disturbing the patient.”
“I think he wants to tell me something.” Lang started to move back towards Owen but Sister stepped with authority between them.
“If you don’t mind.” She lifted a hand to signal a medical attendant who wheeled Owen away.
He sat Eden in the waiting room, a cup of coffee in hand before he put through a call to Owen’s home from the privacy of the empty corridor. He had spoken to the Carter housekeeper initially, not filling her in before he had a chance to speak to Delma, but he had left the message for Delma to ring him on his mobile the moment she got in. The housekeeper sensing something was wrong had apologised profusely for not knowing exactly where Mrs. Carter had gone. Mrs. Carter was a busy lady, sometimes she forgot to say.
It seemed an age before Delma’s call came through. He saw the girl’s eyes as he left the waiting room again. She seemed to know intuitively this was Owen’s wife.
