Stormspell

by Anne Mather

  Dominic shrugged. 'Then don't keep it. If— when—you eventually do inherit, you can always hand it over to some charitable trust as a gift, or keep that good-for-nothing son of hers in comfort for the rest of his life.'

  Ruth sighed. 'Martin means well.'

  'Martin is a troublemaker,' retorted Dominic dryly. 'Did you never have cause to wonder how your aunt found out about me?'

  'She—she spoke to your mother—'

  'Correction. Martin spoke to my mother's secretary. Ginny Harris. It may have been at his mother's instigation, but I believe it was the morning you got back from Switzerland. It was he and not your aunt who wormed the information out of her. Poor Ginny. as you know, is very gullible.'

  'Poor Ginny dotes on you.' retorted Ruth, with some heat, and Dominic grinned.

  'Yes. she does, doesn't she?' he averred comfortably. 'I'll have to remember that.'

  'Don't you dare!' Ruth looked up at him fiercely, then melted beneath the look in his eyes. 'Oh. Dominic, I do love you.'

  Dominic drew her towards him. 'Not here,' he murmured, 'not now. Tomorrow, when we're several thousand miles from here.'

  'A belated honeymoon,' sighed Ruth with some satisfaction. 'Do you think your son will be all right?'

  'What? With at least three women drooling over him?' remarked Dominic briefly. 'He'll be completely ruined by the time we get back.'

  'That always happens with only children,' Ruth countered saucily, giving him a mischievous smile, then darted away before he could retaliate.

  Dominic was right, she thought, slanting a loving glance in his direction, as she tried to pay attention to what her father-in-law was saying. There would be time enough to sort out Aunt Davina's problems. Her own life was much more important, and someone with so much could afford to be generous.