The Silver Falcon Read Free Page A

normal way. There was a hint of despotism in his relationship with her which she had resolutely ignored.
    Then immediately he would do something loving and generous, so that she felt ashamed, and anxious to make up for the fleeting criticism. And it was fleeting. Now, sadly for such a powerful man, his dependence in the last stages of the fatal illness had reversed the roles. It had made her deeply grateful for the chance to give him back the love he had so lavishly given to her.
    She heard the door open and sat up quickly. Tim Ryan came in. She touched the sofa seat beside her. ‘Get us both a drink, Tim, and sit down.’
    He sat holding the glass in his hand, making the ice float from side to side. ‘He was in great spirits,’ he said. ‘Full of plans for next season. He seemed to get tired, though. How is he, Isabel?’
    And then she told him. He looked down for a moment, not saying anything. He had a narrow, Celtic face, with deeply set blue eyes, and thick dark hair.
    â€˜I’m so sorry,’ he said slowly. ‘He’s a grand man. I’m going to miss him. Is there anything I can do for you – you know if there’s anything at all –’
    â€˜Just keep him happy,’ Isabel said. ‘Come and see him every night, just as usual and cheer him up. He’s very fond of you.’
    â€˜We’ve always got along,’ Tim said. ‘Right from the start. And he’s been very good to me. Does he know?’
    â€˜Yes,’ she said. ‘He may tell you himself when he’s ready. I can’t believe it, Tim. I can’t imagine life without him.’
    He reached over and took her hand. ‘Don’t think about it,’ he said. ‘Close your mind. And when the time comes I want you to know something. I’ll be right with you. We all will.’
    He had been in love with her since she first arrived to work for Charles as a temporary secretary. He had liked the quiet young English girl immediately and set out to gain her confidence. Tim knew as much about women as he did about horses, and this was not the type to be rushed. She had quality, and quality was worth waiting for. But he hadn’t calculated on his employer. Charles Schriber had adopted a very different technique. Not for him the patient pursuit of a shy quarry. She hadn’t been at Beaumont more than a fortnight before he set out to rush her off her feet. Tim had stood aside, reluctantly and in silence. One hint of competition and he would lose his job. Charles Schriber didn’t give away anything he wanted. And he wanted Isabel Cunningham.
    Tim had stood by at the wedding, toasted them along with the hundreds of guests, listened to the whispers among the neighbours about how much younger she was, and seen his employer, proud as an old stallion, standing beside his new wife, slim and dark, in a long cream dress. And now it was ending. Sooner, much sooner than he could ever have expected. Or hoped. He went on holding Isabel’s hand.
    â€˜We’ll see him through it,’ he said. ‘He was fretting because he couldn’t get down to the yard and see the Falcon. I told him I’d bring the box up here and unload him in front. If he can be moved to the window he’ll be able to see him from upstairs.’
    Isabel turned to him. ‘Thank you, Tim – that would really please him! I know how much he loves the colt. He was saying to me tonight that he minded missing the Derby more than anything. If only he could have lived till June!’
    â€˜As far as I’m concerned,’ Tim Ryan said, ‘I’m going to act as if he will.’
    â€˜Would you do me a favour?’ she asked him.
    He nodded. ‘Anything.’
    â€˜Stay and have dinner with me tonight. We can go up and sit with him afterwards. He sleeps very early. I don’t want to be alone. Do you mind –’
    He was careful not to look at her.
    â€˜I’d be happy to